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This early in the morning, few of the good (or bad) inhabitants of Swallowcliffe were yet awake. The sun had just only touched the top of the grey hills in the east, painting the horizon in orange, pink and purple. Those few of the villagers that were about cast long shadows, like giants. The air was till cold, the milky dew covered everything. It somehwat displeased goodwife Ada to see that goodwife Tilly was also heading towards the well, trusted old pail in her horny old hands. Goody Tilly knew everyone and everything. Nothing that went about in these parts escaped her keen ears; she even had an inkling of what was going on in Sarum, and once in a while let imply that she knew people in Londinium. This was a source of great jealousy in Ada, but neither she nor anyone else in the village hade ever been able to prove goody Tilly a liar. But perhaps today? That would be a famous victory for goody Ada! "Gods's Peace!" Ada's greeting was met with a curt nod, while Tilly slowly started to crank the handle to the well. The creaking of the reel broke the silence that lay over the village street while the two gossipmongers searched their minds for the best and most shocking news they had procured since they met last Tuesday. Goody Ada had had a disappointing week, and her harvest was poor. She had only four meagre facts to trade. The Lord [[Padern]] had been in Sarum for a few days to find building materials for the new hall that was slowly rising where the one the [[Saxons]] had burnt once stood. The [[Lady]] Eleanor was preparing her annual Midsummer's dance with the maidens in the village. The Priest had been drunk on Wednesday, and shown his member to a little boy. One man had fallen from the manor roof and broken his hip. She cursed the villagers in her part of the village, for beeing hard working, good christians with children who behaved themselves. "The Lord [[Padern]] didn't find a knight to take care of the oldest boy", said goody Tilly abruptly while she started to fill her pail with the bucket from the well. "Again".That got Ada's reluctant attention, and she now remebered that Lord [[Padern]] had taken his oldest foster son with him to Sarum that day. He should've been a squire by now. Goodwife Tilly made a strange titter. "The boy is so strange, no one will take him. No decency. Has the Devil in him". This was a familiar tune to Ada; she was not impressed. She had heard [[hundreds]] of stories about the late Lord [[Morcant]]'s firstborn son. Did Tilly not have anything better than that? She only made a non-committal hawk in reply and got a sharp eye in return. Tilly knew this game; time to bring out the heavy trebuchets. "I've heard 'tis, heard it from my cousin Rohesia, you know, in the castle kitchen". This was a well known socurce of information, which time and again had proved as truthful as God's angels. Ada had to nod a bit more vigoroulsy, while trying to hide her curiosity. "When the Lord [[Padern]] was set to return home, he could not find his son, oh no. Searched for him everywhere, from the cellars to the roof tops, Rohesia says. Over the whole town. Spent ten pennies to hire hands to help him. But the boy was as incivible." Roheisa had not said that last part, that was of her own invention. It played on some of the rumors that were circulationg the about the boy Ronevall. Ada surrendered, she could not help herself. "Is he then ... lost?" It was a common wish in the village, that the boy would disappear. Tilly made her giggle again. "Oh no. It's much worse than that". There was a short silene. Ada said nothing, so Tilly had to fill it. "As our Lord [[Padern]] left for home, he passed through [[Fool's Gate]]. And there he heard a strange song, like it came from deep below. It was his son singing, and his son" β she made a pause β "was in the Fool's Room". Ada crossed herself. "What, what was he doing in there?" She was eager now, drawn in. "Singing", said Tilly. The word alone was filled with dark meaning. That devil spawn, singing in the Fool's Room. A hundred theories formed in Ada's brain, and that Ronevall was casting a spell was the least sinister of them. "But, then, is he still there? What did [[Padern]] do?" In her haste, Ada forgot to say "Lord". "Oh, what would he do? Only Countess [[Ellen]] has a key ..." Whack! An apple cart hit Goody Tilly in the back of the head. She broke of, mid sentence. The two crones stared suspiciosuly along the murky, silent streets. Whack! Another one hit Goody Ada, this time. It came from a tree in the village square. From the foilage. There was someone up there. It could be only one. No one else would have the insolence. Tilly took her pail and made clear to make her escape, and Ada started gathering her skirts. The boy made an elegant somersault and landed gracefully by the tree. Then, slowly, the two women steadily in his sights, he bent down and picked up a nice, smooth stone. Ada and Tilly squealed and fled, waddling like geese. Ronevall laughed merrily. Then he threw the stone. Hard.
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