Culling a Miracle

Chapter 1

You’re covered in blood! Bethany jerked her son out of the path and glowered.

Father Abel made the sign of the cross. What evil have you been about?

Mum look, Esmeralda killed someone. She’s all bloody. Little Selah hid her face in her mother’s skirts.

Oh, goose feathers to the highest heavens. Esmeralda waved her arms; the dried blood now caked up to her elbows. ’Tis naught more than goat’s blood.

’Tis a heresy to worship the dark one. Father Abel sputtered as he stumbled back a step.

Esmeralda continued walking through the center of town without slowing. I am a follower of the Lord Most High, Father, as well you know. A grin pulled at her lips as she spun to look at them while continuing to walk backwards. Peter’s doe just delivered her first kid and he had to be cut from his mother. Esmeralda spun with a skip and shouted over her shoulder. And they are both hale.

More of the good folk of Flatwell dodged from her path as Esmeralda bounced down the lane. The only thing to dampen her mood was the dog dung she’d been unable to avoid squishing between her toes as she dodged an angry fist waving from Travers, the blacksmith.

Long after the last homes on the west side of village, Esmeralda entered the woods that lay within the walls of their town. She kept to the well-worn path she could follow in the deepest hours of a moonless night. The forest animals didn’t scurry to their dens, or scamper off in fear. It was just Esz, another one of the wild creatures who lived in their forest home.

MeeMa? Esmeralda sang out as the tiny hut came into view. MeeMa, you are never going to guess my adventures of this day. She drew back the leather flap from over the opening and savored the cool earthen floor. But the dark hovel lay empty.

What is all the caterwaulin’ about? MeeMa padded around her hut from her herb garden. Her slender fame, covered in a soft brown kirtle, blended in with the surrounding foliage. Oh, Eszy, child. Ya’re a fright. Come, come let us get ya cleaned up. What mischief have ya gotten into now?

No mischief. I promise. She let herself be herded toward the stream where a tub of water sat. MeeMa worked to scrub her arms clean. Peter’s goat delivered.

And what about a kid coming into the world causes ya lookin’ like a warrior returned from battle?

Esmeralda could hardly stand still. The kid was all turned about inside. Wouldn’t come out like God intended. The doe was a wailin’ and Peter yelled for me come to help. I held the mum still and he carefully sliced open her belly. He pulled out the little lad and placed him on my lap then sewed up the mum with some of the finest stitches I ever have seen. You would’ve been proud of him.

Her arms cleaned, MeeMa waved for Esmeralda to raise them as she continued to recount her tale without a breath. Her stained overdress whisked over her head leaving her in her tattered and stained chemise.

Never seen anything like it. The doe stood and suckled her kid as though it was any other birthing.

Mothers are resilient, Eszy. Ya’ve helped me deliver enough babes in Flatwell to know such.

But you haven’t ever cut a babe free from the womb.

MeeMa stood staring at her for a moment. The wet overdress created a puddle at her feet. No, no I haven’t done that, though may have saved the miller’s wife and babe had I thought of it. She pushed a strand of wispy gray hair from her leathery face with her forearm. I pray ya never have call ta use such knowledge, but the good Lord has provided it to ya, so mind it well.

Esmeralda spun and danced about in the clearing beside the stream as MeeMa fussed over her garment. The new stains would only be added to the old. On one of her spins, she caught MeeMa staring at her.

Ya remind me of yar mum, dancing around like a fairy sprite.

Tell me about her, please.

Oh, child, ya have done heard all me tales a hundred score now.

Please. Esmeralda clutched her hands to her chest and did one tight spin.

MeeMa’s blue eyes almost disappeared in her wrinkles. Her gaze shifted off toward the town. A fine woman, yar mum. Always treated me with kindness. Brought me any food she could spare and didn’t take to no one calling me a witch. A smile pulled at the corner of her lips. She danced and twirled about like ya did just now when she came to tell me the most fetching lad in all the realm had asked for her hand.

MeeMa’s gaze shifted back to her, And ya came along about a winter later. Same russet hair and emerald eyes as yar mum’s. That’s why they named ya Esmeralda. Oh, how Sariad loved ya, child. Her gaze slid off to the distance again. Sore I am, my herbs were no match for the fever that stole her from ya too young.

Esmeralda laid her hand on MeeMa’s arm. I know you did everything for her. Father told me. You loved her.

MeeMa patted her hand. That I did, child. That I did.

But then the good Lord saw it fitting to call yar fine father home too. MeeMa tossed her head sending her gray waves to fluttering. Doesn’t seem right to leave such a sweet child all on her own in the world.

I’m not alone. I have you.

MeeMa clucked her tongue. Without Sariad speaking on me behalf, ya know the town has labeled me a witch. She waved Esmeralda back toward the hut. Ya have done yarself no favors by spending yar hours with me, child.

As MeeMa tottered, Esmeralda twirled around her. She may have been too old to do so, but Esz never cared much for what others thought of her. If she did, she wouldn’t be here with MeeMa. But you have taught me herbs, teas, ointments, treatments for mending bone, and wounds.

And ya pester any traveler who comes to town to learn of any other treatments they may know. She chuckled as she led the way into her home and draped the soggy overdress across a log near the hearth. Yar desire to gain knowledge of the healing arts is like a gnawing hunger, akin to that of a bear after wakin’ from his winter’s rest.

MeeMa stirred the stewpot hanging over the flames releasing wafts of rich meat that drove out the lingering traces of dirt and moldy thatch. The small hut held little. A lopsided tiny table with two mismatched, rickety stools, a longer worktable where they prepared their herbs, and MeeMa’s straw palate in the corner made the room feel cramped. Esz had to be mindful of the low ceiling beam that MeeMa passed under with ease.

Esmeralda slid an errant strand that had come loose from the plait behind her ear and scrutinized the collection of herbs waiting on the worktable. You found chamomile.

Yes, yes, the last for this season. Hope ’tis enough to see Margaret through the winter with her headaches.

Do you wish me to boil the flax seeds?

MeeMa patted her on the arm. I think ya have done enough for one day, child. Come sit. Eat. She waved at the stool Esmeralda always used. With their cups full on the tiny table and MeeMa perched on the other stool, they bowed their head for grace.

Our precious Heavenly Father, MeeMa’s voice was strong and full of awe. We give Thee thanks for all the bounty of Thy hand. For the food to sustain us and the herbs and knowledge to mend us. May we always bring Thee praise by the work of our hands. Amen.

Amen.

With their cups half emptied, MeeMa paused to stare at her. MeeMa tapped her wooden spoon staring at it as she spoke to Esz. I tell ya again, Eszy, ’tis high time we find a man to take yar hand.

Esmeralda whisked her own spoon through the air waving her off. I am two score and one. Far beyond the desirable age to be wed. And we both know well; no man of worth would consider me. They think me odd, MeeMa. Possessed of the devil at worst and addled at best.

Yar the brightest of all in this town, Eszy. Nay let any speak against ya.

Laughter danced from Esmeralda. Mayhaps the long missing king will order every town to have a proper healer to maintain his people’s good health.

Ya dream for the impossible.

Esmeralda let a smirk pull at her lips. Well, we could always pray for selection in the Culling.

MeeMa spit on the floor and shot a string of Hail Father’s at the thatch. Never do I want to hear ya wish such ill on yarself or any other maid, Esmeralda. The spoon wagged at her nose again. Thou shall not court evil.

Chapter 2

Esz? Oh, you useless girl, where are you?

I’m here. Esmeralda stepped from the shadow of the stable, arms crossed. If I am so very useless then I can only conclude you no longer require my tea. She turned and started to walk away. As I have much to do this day, I thank you for not making me wait any longer…

Dinah grabbed her arm and jerked Esmeralda back toward the shadows. Releasing her almost as quickly, Dinah wiped her hand on her skirt. Stop it, Esz. You know well Mum requires the calming. She rested her arms on the top rail of the corral and looked at the horses milling about inside. You just don’t know what it’s like to be under threat of the Culling.

I am only three summers older than you and still a maiden. Esmeralda leaned her back against the rails and huffed. They could take me as easily as you.

How many times have you been offered?

Twice, but the first I was far too young. They never take the very young.

Dinah nodded. True, but now… She rubbed her arms as if chilled though the sun was bright and it was warm even in the shadows.

"Surely you do not lack prospective matches. It isn’t as if you have the orphan’s taint on your name."

No one cares that your parents are dead, Esz. Her voice dropped to a whisper. It is that you conduct yourself with the witch.

Esz growled low and deep. If I didn’t conduct myself with Old Widow Mia, and if she and I didn’t scour the woods and glens for the herbs, dry them, grind and mix them, where would you and your dear pious mother get your tea? MeeMa has done naught but tend the sick and injured, and you scorn her for the knowledge that aids.

I only say what is well known about the town.

Other towns have healers—apothecaries even. They are respected members of a healthy community. Dinah, just because Flatwell is full of superstitious ninnies doesn’t mean you have to be one of them. You have known me all your life. Have I ever done anything to harm anyone?

Nay, you haven’t, but you could, and we would never suspect it.

You have as much opportunity to fall to sin as I, but you don’t see me going about blaming you before you have acted. Esmeralda pulled a pouch cinched with string from the satchel slung across her body. Your mum’s tea. May she drink it in good health.

Thank you. Lord willing, Mum and Da will see me wed before the next Culling.

It has been almost three years. Mayhaps the Culling with its unwashed men won’t return again.

Or they could come tomorrow. Dinah scurried off.

Esmeralda rounded the stable and ambled into town. She noted the men and women who moved to the other side of the lane rather than risk bumping shoulders with her. Her garments may be tattered and stained, but these same good folks, who wouldn’t share the street with her, also never thought to offer payment for the remedies she and MeeMa provided. She bathed regularly, but there was not the coin for cloth or new clothes. She squared her shoulders, head held high, and dared each person to look her in the eye and acknowledge her. Few did. And she stifled the shriek crawling at the back of her throat.

A wagon in front of the tavern caught her eye. She skipped ahead, heedless of the people scrambling from her path. The reeds covering the tavern’s floor tickled her toes, and the heady odor of men and ale made her nose wrinkle.

No women—oh, Esz ’tis you. Rizard, the tavern owner, returned to his tasks. He’d long ago given up trying keeping her out.

Esz passed the rows of long tables on either side of the central aisle. The dark wood tables and walls gave the room a heaviness that always made her breath catch. Flickering lamp light cast the few patrons in a sickly yellow light and made specter-like shadows dance about the room. Esz tossed off the foreboding sensations as she moved deeper into the room. She knelt on a bench and leaned on her forearms as they rested on the tabletop. Neal, the traveling merchant, put down his tankard and smiled at her.

Didn’t take ya long to discover me, lass.

Did you bring it?

He tilted his head and considered her. Good-day to ya too, lass.

’Tis a very good day ’cause you have returned and you probably brought me ginger. Esmeralda gave him her biggest smile.

And what are you willing to pay for me ginger? I’m a businessman. Can’t go giving away me merchandise. ’Tis bad business. He winked at her.

Esmeralda laughed. They had played this game since she was a child when she would place her feet on top of his and they’d dance down the center aisle of the tavern. She stood and curtsied low. May I have the honor of this dance, sir?

Neal rose and bowed deep. M’lady. He set his dance frame like any nobleman she had ever imagined and Esmeralda stepped into it. He placed his left hand low on her back, and she put her right palm on his shoulder. Their other hands clasped gently as Neal kept a respectable distance between their bodies. They nodded at the same time and started the steps of the simple dance, spinning and sliding down the length of the tavern and back. Without any music, they followed the rhythm they had set and repeated over countless years.

Neal was not a tall man. Over the years Esz had grown to over take his meager height by a few finger widths. With her gaze above his forehead, Esz noted that Neal’s hair was continuing to thin. When he leaned forward to assure he didn’t step on her bare toes, she saw the crown of his head looked blistered and angry red. I can give you an ointment for the burn of the sun, Esmeralda said as they finished and returned to the table.

You are ever kind, lass. He produced a pouch much like she had given Dinah, only three times larger as he bowed again. Your goods, m’lady.

She squealed and stooped to peck his check with a kiss. Thank you, Neal. She exchanged the pouch of ginger with a palm-sized jar of ointment. Each morning put a thin layer over your scalp where ’tis burned. And you should procure a hat. She skipped from the tavern.

A glance to the east showed a dark horizon over the town’s high crenelated wall, and an ill wind blew. Esmeralda stifled a shiver.

Chapter 3

How is your mum, Dinah? Esz asked two days later.

The blonde-headed girl glanced about her to see who watched her talking to the witch’s apprentice. Moving a little forward she spoke but didn’t look at Esmeralda. The tea has served her, but she will not need it any longer if the negotiations with the miller and his son go well.

They seek to match you with Vin? The lanky lad was a season younger than Dinah, and not at all attractive. All long spindly limbs and a long face. Still, Esmeralda had to admit she would have found a way to love him if Vin had asked for her hand.

Yes, but Abigail’s father seeks a match as well. Dinah nibbled on the tip of her index finger. I don’t know what Mum and I will do if Vin doesn’t choose me.

Esmeralda shrugged and turned. The Lord will provide.

"Well, He better do so soon. They could return at any moment."

Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Esz?

Esmeralda stopped and looked back.

You have straw in your hair.

She ran her hand over her head and down her plait, pulling out a couple of wayward stalks. Dinah had disappeared when she looked up to thank her.

Esmeralda continued down the lane on the outer edges of the south part of