Page 40 of The Knucker King

So that is the man she is marrying in early Spring?

The volume in her ears increased.

Avice stepped back from the doorway and shook her head from side to side.

What is that?

She growled and pushed her hands under her coif, scratching her fingers along her scalp. Avice had had enough. She stomped down the centre aisle of the church, headed boldly towards the pulpit. As she approached, the buzzing grew louder and louder. Something wet trickled from Avice’s ear. When she reached up and drew her fingers back, the tips of her gloves were stained red.

It is coming from the cross. I am sure.

She swallowed as she stood at the bottom of the steps that lead into the pulpit. She could only reach the cross, and closely inspect it, if she climbed. Avice willed herself upwards and placed her boot on the first step.

“What do you think you are doing?” a voice growled from behind her.

Avice startled as a hand landed on her shoulder and gripped.

Hard.

“I—”

“Midwife Avice!” Peter spun her around and dug one hand into each shoulder. “You have no right! The pulpit is for men of the church only. A woman, particularly one like you, should never touch it.”

One like me! Avice growled internally. “I am sorry, Father. But can you not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The noise!” She pointed up to the cross.

“There is no noise!” Peter’s gaze dropped to his hands that still gripped Avice’s shoulders. He quickly removed them and carefully smoothed his fur trimmed robes. His expression switched from one of anger to one of passivity. “Thank you for waiting, Midwife Avice.”

She took a step back, wrinkling her nose at his perfumes. “Yes, Father, of course.”

Peter cleared his throat, looming over her. “It has come to my attention that the last two children born in Lamorna were born wrong.”

Avice rubbed her ears through her coif. “Yes, Father, that is correct.”

“And what happened to these children?” the priest pressed.

It was not difficult for her to put together. If Lucille was the priest’s betrothed, she would have told him what happened with Boarden. Gossip also spread like wildfire through the villagers, so he could have heard it through a parishioner as well.

Avice flicked her gaze up to Peter’s face. He was young, perhaps seeing twenty full turns of seasons. She bristled under his glare. Here she was, being interrogated like a child who had stolen honey cakes, at thirty-five full turns of seasons. A muscle feathered in the priest’s jaw as he waited for her answer, and the veins in his neck bulged.

“I offered them to the Well King. He gave them to the Good Neighbours. To save their lives,” she replied smoothly. She knew there was no point in lying, as the father already knew. “And saved they were.”

“You offered Christian children to that serpent?” Peter hissed.

Avice stuck her chin out. Normally, she would be demure, lower her head, and do as she was told. Perhaps it was the relentless noise in her ears, or the insult to someone she cared deeply for, but she seethed at Trewoofe being called a serpent.

“Knucker. He is a Knucker. A type of Dragon. Not a serpent,” she said through gritted teeth. “King Trewoofe has been here far longer than the village, or the church, and he will be here far afterwards.”

“I am concerned of this serpent’s effect on you and the women of the village. To think, they have willingly offered their children to it.” Peter narrowed his eyes at her. “Steps needed to be taken to ensure it is no longer influencing you.”

Avice jerked. “What do you mean no longer influencing me?” Her stomach twisted at the idea of something bad happening to Trewoofe. “Tell me, what have you—”

“Avice! Avice, I need you!”

Her hand shot up to the crystal pendant around her neck, gloved fingers slipping under her cloak to feel the deep resonance that came from it.