Chapter 76

Merrick stared at the blistered and bubbling flesh of his hand and a fresh whimper sputtered out of him.

Ryna gaped at the wound in disbelief then turned with characteristic outrage in Marcie's direction,

"You bi-" she stared but stopped with a gasp then clutched Merrick's uninjured hand.

He blinked away tears and tore his gaze away from the ruin of his flesh to look in Marcie's direction and saw at once what had halted Ryna's expletive.

Marcie, on her knees, next to her fathers body.

The Cripple Junca had once been a strong and large man, while the drink had consumed his body until he was but a third his original size, had bleeched the colour from his hair to a thin and patchy white, had pulled at his skin until he was both skeletal and also bloated, it was still, unmistakably him.

Merrick bit back the pain and stepped closer to his childhood friend, pulling Ryna, reluctantly, behind him.

"Marcie" he said softly. No response.

"Marcie" he said a little louder.

She twitched.

"Marcie come away from him come on" he found himself saying, unsure as to the correct response to a parents death,

Marcie remained where she was, unmoving.

Suddenly, she reached forward, ever so gently and touched the backs of her fingers to her fathers cheek.

A tiny whisper fell from her lips that, had Merrick been listening closely, could have been "Father".

Ryna, forgetting her previous hostility, stepped forward and crouched down next to Marcie, keeping her gaze away from the corpse, she slipped her arm through Marcie's,

"Marcie" she said gently, "Come along now dear, there's nothing to see here, come along, let go to the tavern hmm? Get us some mead hmm? Come on, there you go"

She levered Marcie off the ground by her arm with a grunt then led her obediently in the direction of the tavern, whispering to her constantly while Marcie gazed at nothing, a terrifying lack of anything in her eyes.

Merrick took one last glance at his uncle's remains before he turned and followed the women.

Ryna led Marcie up the tavern steps,

"Come on dear, only three steps, come on, one, two..." she continued talking quietly under her breath to her unresponsive rival, leaning round her to pull open the door and lead her inside.

It was very similar to what she had been witness to Marcie doing with her father when he was still in the relatively early days of his drunkenness, directing him much like a simpleton or a very young child. Although, Ryna grimaced, Marcie had usually been escorting her father out  of the tavern not into it and she had been much younger when she had ventured out to bring him home each and every night.

Marcie slipped quietly onto the first chair Ryna found and leaned her head on the wall, eyes staring at nothing.

Satisfied she was not going anywhere, Ryna turned to Merrick and inspected his hand, he flinched when she grabbed his wrist and examined the blisters, prodding one of them, much to Merricks displeasure.

Marcie showed no reaction, Ryna watched her closely.

"Go get it seen too by Justyna" Ryna instructed quietly, She disliked the witch and Justyna had just enough knowledge of healing beyond child birthing to see to such wounds,

"And tell your father about...about Junca. keep it quiet, he'll know what to do"

Merrick nodded, he was good at doing what he was told. He cradled his hand and avoided the other curious patrons to reach his father behind the bar. Ryna watched The Barman's face slowly crease up until his eyes were almost hidden behind his bushy eyebrows, then he finished pouring the drink he was in the process of heading and march out of the back door, his son on his heels.

Ryna grabbed the tankard of mead from the bar and brought it over to Marcie, a few of the patrons tried to engage her in conversation, curious as to what was going on but she ignored them and set the tankard down in front of Marcie, taking the seat opposite her, seeing many eyes upon them both she narrowed her eyes at everyone and made a shooing gesture. All the patrons gradually found something else to be doing.

Marcie wrapped her hands around the tankard then, haltingly, as though she was not sure what to do with it, lifted it to her mouth and downed the thing in one go.

She set the now empty mug down and hung her head.

"Another?" Ryna asked lightly, but then sighed sadly when tears began to drip onto the hardwood tabletop. She reached forward and patted the other womans hand.

Marcie wept quietly for a long time. In that time The Barman came back and had a quiet word with a few of the patrons and they left and returned a little while later looking a little green. Merrick returned with his hand wrapped in linen and smelling strongly of salve, he looked pale and tired and took himself off to bed after sitting with Marcie for a while looking helpless. A few of his siblings took his place but when they saw how sad and despondent Marcie was they hurried off to find their mother. Luce came at the bidding of her children and immediately wrapped an arm around Marcie's shoulders, her own eyes full of unshed tears.

After her cheeks had dried, Marcie rubbed her eyes and tried to smile but it died on her face before it was fully formed.

"The man have moved the body into the hall to...prepare for burial" Ryna told her gently, Marcie swallowed and nodded and Luce sent a quick prayer to The Goddess.

"It seems he choked on his own vomit after falling" she said, holding nothing back. Marcie squeezed her eyes shut and put her face in her hands, Ryna feared she was crying again but when she looked up her face was dry.

They sat in silence for a while, Marcie picking at the table edge where a sliver of wood had come free.

"How long have you been waiting to find your father dead?" Ryna asked. She regretted it instantly but usually spoke her mind and struggled to think of something to ease the blow. Luce inhaled sharply and clutched her chest but Marcie merely shrugged,

"Ever since mother died" she said with such a bone weary sigh that Ryna struggled, for the first time, to hold back her own tears and Luce began crying properly.

"I am so sorry Marcie" Luce said thickly, dabbing at her cheeks with her sleeve "So sorry you had to go through this for so long"

Marcie managed a small weak smile,

"Nothing could have saved him" she said, laying her head on her arm, "Not even me"

She turned her head into the table and said, very quietly,

"I wasn't enough."

Ryna grabbed her hand again and squeezed, as if she could ease the pain at all, and Luce stroked her hair and murmured reassurances which fell on deaf ears.

Villagers began to trickle into the tavern once news spread, many tried to engage Marcie, either in sympathy or curiosity but Luce and Ryna tried to fend them off. More came in, wishing to know if it was true, if The Cripple was dead. The Barman passed out drinks but grew watchful, his eyes passing suspiciously over all the patrons.

Tables were drawn together and chairs scraped around the room. Voices became raised and one patron, Marcie did not see which, barked loudly, "Bout time tha no good waste o space kicked it! We better off without im!"

Marcie hid her face in her hands again.

The sounds of the tavern crashed upon her ears and caused her head to pound, she felt more tears rise unbidden and covered her head with her arms to try and soften the blows. Luce shook her shoulder alarmed but Marcie ignored her.

She heard the commotion grow and another louder and angrier voice raised above the others, and another and another. She peeked out from under her arms and saw The Blacksmith, his family and, she blinked in surprise, Kena. Both spoke loudly to the patrons, glaring in her direction and pointing. She couldn't hear them over the din and just pressed her hands to her ears.

More voices were raised, chests were puffed, someone was pushed, which caused someone else to spill their drink, collars were grabbed and before anyone knew what was happening, The Tavern experienced its very first bar brawl.

The Barman leapt into the fray, using his considerable bulk to rip wrestling foes apart while Luce hurried upstairs, ushering all the children back into their rooms with wide eyes. Ryna, never one to let something slide, leapt up onto the table and, hiking her skirt up, aimed kicks at anyone foolish enough to get close.

Marcie watched The Taverns first ever brawl break out and as soon as she was sure no one would notice, slipped out the back door and into blessed silence of twilight. She was surprised at how much time had passed since she discovered her fathers...body. Now that it was quiet she felt Dara as clear as day and she took in her first full breath since everything had changed. Wrapping herself in Dara's comfort she shuffled towards her house, bypassing Miss Maiden's shop with regret but feeling utterly spent she thought she could bare no more sympathy or human contact for that matter.

She eventually arrived back at the house. It looked exactly like an abandoned house should look. She had to wrench open the door as it had almost set in its frame.

Inside was hot and smelt stale, so she left the door open and sat on her fathers old worn cot by the door. She lay down, expecting it to smell like him, then remembering that as far as she could remember, he had always smelt like mead, or the harsh drink drank by the villages less reputed members and, usually, stale urine. So she was relieved when the cot smelt of nothing but mould, even it, already forgetting the man who had once slept there.

Marcie closed her eyes and fell asleep with Dara watching over her dreams to ensure nothing scared her.

She knew not when she woke, but felt a strong hand shaking her shoulder. She leapt out of the cot in surprise and Leader Roor backed away from her holding his hands up to show her he meant no harm.

"Roor" she said, bewildered, rubbing her eyes, "What...whatsgoinon?"

Roor lowered his hands then rubbed his hands anxiously, not meeting her eyes. Her heart sank.

"What is it?" she asked, more directly,

Roor sighed wearily and muttered something about 'not wanting it to go this far' then he straightened and stood in front of her.

"Marcie No Ones Bride" he said formally, his voice ringing out through the small empty house and beyond, she saw more men waiting outside and felt light headed with apprehension,

"You are summoned to appear before the village proper to be tried on the charge of..." he sighed heavily again as if it pained him to speak,

"Witchcraft. You will be escorted to the hall and detained until all villagers are assembled and there arguments for and against  you will be levelled. The people will then decide your guilt and a suitable punishment will follow"

Marcie stared at him in disbelief. Witchcraft! Of all the... Roor was still talking,

"You may come voluntarily or you will be escorted by an escort and if you resist it will be taken as a sign of your guilt and deadly force may be used"

He watched her, clearly waiting for something, staring at her with eyes that gave nothing away.

When she did not move, still in shock, he looked sad, bowed his head and took two steps back. The men, none of whom she knew well, bustled in and grabbed her roughly by the arms and marched her out of the house and down the lane, she complied but in her mind she thought this all a dream, except for the iron grip digging into her bicep.

She looked forward and allowed the men to drag her towards the village hall, and her fate.