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.The family purse was now fat with coins Frankish pennies, worn silver obolsfrom which the faces of forgotten emperors were almost effaced."Someday Iwill exchange them all for a shiny silver denarius, and later my denarii for a gold solidus from Byzantium."Marie's enthusiasm grew with her imaginary fortune, and after years ofsilence, neither Gilles nor Pierrette thought to quiet her.Bertrand, the smith's son, brought her wildflowers.Neither parent nor sistersaw fit to reflect aloud thatBertrand was fat (though strong) or that he was not very smart (though a hardworker).Marie's happiness was a fragile bubble that could be punctured by asharp word or a returning memory.For Pierrette, Marie's rosy projections of Bertrand, domestic and carnalbliss, and children at her breast, were like thorns pricking her own tinybubbles.No boys noticed her.How long could Gilles's deception continue? Withthe grove so happy, was it necessary? Yet Gilles refused to discuss it, andshe remainedPiers in the eyes of all.Others knew of the charade, but few villagersassociated with our Burgundian overlord, so the secret was safe from the onlyperson who mattered.Pierrette's loneliness, her motherless state, and her self-enforced isolationdrove her to long walks eastward up the valley past the ruins of the Romanfountain.Otho, Bishop of Nemausus, The Sorceress's Tale* * *Again, Pierrette lay amid the folds of her mother's leafy skirt for what was"ma" but "mother," her mother Elen? She drifted into sleep."Anselm!" murmured the soft, motherly voice, the rustle of beech and mapleleaves."Anselm! Within his magical walls, where the sun always stands at highnoon, you will find what you seek.""Guihen warned me away." Pierrette's voice was like the dry passage of apreening magpie's beak along its feathers."Guihen!" Beech twigs rattled their annoyance."What does Guihen know? Youcannot remain a child.You must grow, and feel pain.Did Guihen explain that?"Guihen had not.Guihen had given her a choice between two futures so alike asto make no difference at all between being childless, husbandless, and alonein the village, or equally childless and alone somewhere else.The spangle ofsunlight descending through high branches became Marie's smile as shecontemplated Bertrand, as she planned the fine two-room stone house he wouldbuild for her.Pierrette's hands formed tight, jealous fists."Iwill go to the cape," she murmured."Iwill learn magic from the mage.I'll wear a long skirt, and a ribbon in myhair."Page 28ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlPierrette arose from slumber, brushing dry leaves from her sleeves."I'll doas you say, Mother." The gray trunk seemed thicker than before; the silverybranches reached outward in silent benediction.* * *Gilles was angry."In a month, the bishop will arrive to bless the harvest.Must an old man do everything, while you frolic afield?" Gilles treatedPierrette as if she were indeed Piers, a strong boy, and berated her when shefailed to measure up.There was another facet to Gilles's anger.Pierrette was free to visit thepool Ma, yet Gilles was not or so he told himself, citing work alwaysuncompleted.There was an element of self-inflicted punishment toGilles's denial: when he slept in the moss and leaves, in the shade of thegreat, sheltering trees, the pains of age, labor, and guilt were wiped away.Yet Gilles had used his wife's fairy-magic for his own ends, to herdestruction, and now used his daughter similarly, for the rich harvest of hisgrove.He didn't deserve solace, so he denied himself.For a week, Pierrette also denied herself, carrying baskets of fat olives fromthe grove to the great press, shared by several growers.The press bed was abasalt slab with a groove around its edge for oil.Atop it rested aloose-staved cask with a lid that fit loosely inside, forced downward by aweighted beam that magnified the force of the rock's weight.The oil that dribbled into the waiting pots was thick and rich.Before theharvest was pressed, they would run out of vessels to contain it.Gilles would never allow Pierrette to wander off until the last of the cropwas pressed, and they would be lucky to be done before the festival, herfather's imposed deadline.There was no time to hike to the cape duringdaylight hours.She sighed, and made up her mind to leave as soon as herfather and sister were asleep.If the mage would take her in, her father'sthreat would be moot.If not, she would lose only a night's sleep.The moon was half full.Pierrette's steps were light.She imagined herselfdressed in white Egyptian cotton, a red leather belt, and shoes to match.Shepictured a room with ten lamps, a long shelf of scrolls and books.Stumbling over a fallen branch, her fantasy shattered.She had come almost allthe way up the crevice between the northernmost scarps.Ahead, somethingmoved.She became as still as a startled hare.No concealing brush or treesgrew on the rough rock.Nothing could hide there.No moving shadow occluded the stars, yet the prickly sensation didn't abate.Two stars seemed to swell as she focused on them, to blur and become fat andgreen-hued, like staring, unblinking eyes.Across the starry cleft, high onher left, were two others.Those star-specks, exaggerated by her narrow perspective into great, glowingeyes, turned her to stone.Ahead was a dark presence unseen.Behind, she heard her mother's voice, softas rustling leaves."Anselm will give you what you need.""Go back!" said the hollow wind blowing over the cleft."Go back, or wanderforever."".Only where the sun always stands at high noon." promised thevoice from behind.Unable to push forward or to flee, Pierrette's helpless terror changed to theanger of a corneredbeast and with rage came clarity of thought.Behind, her mother's voice urgedher forward.Ahead.Guihen! The wood-sprite played tricks to frighten her away.With forcedbravado she stood with hands on skinny hips."You can't make me go, Mother."The sound echoed hollowly from the rocks."And you!" she spat, facing about, "you can't scare me away, either.Both ofPage 29ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlyou stop it.I'll do exactly as I please."The sense of presence behind evaporated, as if her mother's spirit hadwithdrawn.She thrust herself upward.Another step, then another.Herhead and shoulders were above the enclosing cleft
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