Page 130 of The Knucker King

Matilda squinted past Avice, her gaze sweeping the garden. “You did all of this?”

“The King of the Underneath and I did,” she confirmed.

“You brought us Eden,” Emma murmured, shielding her eyes from the Sun. “And saved our children.”

Avice nodded. “Children!” She flicked her gaze to Matilda. “I have news of your son. Boarden is doing very well.”

The woman gave her a small smile, and a single tear travelled down her cheek. “It eases the ache to hear it. Are you sure you would not like to come in for tea?”

Avice was tempted, but she was on a mission to see her final patient that day. “No, thank you. If you are sure that you do not need my services, I will continue my rounds.”

48

Chapter 48

Avice

Central Lamorna was unrecognisable to Avice.

Whatever magic she and Trewoofe had spread from their dance had claimed the village. Daisies and dandelions had popped up in vast swathes in the gaps between the granite cobblestones, smothering the air with their bitter-sweet scent. Ivy claimed the stocks and gallows. The strong vines enveloped the frame, noose, and iron-barred cages, crowning it in emerald leaves larger than her head. Even the church had been taken. Massive creepers climbed the grey stone and wound their way around the belfry, choking the bell with blooms so huge it would never ring again.

Avice eventually landed her gaze on the rectory. She smirked. It had indeed been obliterated to rubble. With all the flora and greenery, she could not detect the acrid scent of the oil in the pollen heavy air.

Considering how small the village was, it was positively bustling. People were milling, gossiping, and generally enjoying the warm sunshine after such a long Winter. The tavern was open, and a small queue had formed at the open shutter. The wafting smell of Cornish pasties made her mouth water.

Bramble’s nose twitched, and his tongue lolled. Those smell delicious. Can we have some?

“I promise we will get some after we see Mister Benjamin. I have some pennies in here somewhere.” Avice patted her satchel.

They hurried across the square, dodging people, and kicking up pollen and petals. George Courier’s home was not far. It was easy to spot, made from the same grey stone as the church and smashed rectory. The ivy had also begun its claim of the walls. A log fence formed an enclosure – complete with a stable – that housed the Courier’s mare, Epona. She nickered as Avice marched past and trotted over to the fence.

“Not now,” the midwife said. “I am in a rush.”

Epona huffed and tossed her head.

She just wants a pat, Bramble observed. She has been worried about you since the blizzard.

Avice rolled her eyes but surrendered. “Hello, Epona.” She swept over to the horse and offered her an open palm. The mare lipped at her, sliming her fingers with saliva. “Yuck,” she chuckled, wiping her hand on her aproned dress front.

It seemed that was what Epona had been planning all along. While the midwife was distracted, she reached to snag Trewoofe’s flowers that had been sticking out of her satchel. The very same ones that Avice had forgotten to give to her patients in all the excitement of the day so far. Epona pranced away, tossing her head gleefully at the pilfered blossoms she held in her teeth, before chomping them down in a quick bite.

Avice shook her head at the mare. “Lucky for you, I had forgotten to give them to my ladies earlier today.”

Epona nickered and regarded her with such a startlingly intelligent look that Avice did a double take. Then, she was a normal horse again, dropping her head to crop at the pasture that was up to her knees.

Avice arched an eyebrow at her familiar. “Just a pat?”

That is what she said, Bramble huffed. Let us get on with your last visit, shall we? I want to get a pasty.

She giggled and strode after him as he went up the cobblestone path that led to George’s door. Avice rapped at it and waited while footsteps echoed through the house. Goodwife Margaret – Father Peter’s maid – answered, squinting around the half-open door.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, opening it wider. “Good afternoon, Midwife Avice.”

She smiled in response. “Hello, Goodwife Margaret.”

“How can I help you?” she asked.

“I came to see Mister Benjamin. I heard that he was here,” she replied, patting her medical satchel.