Lucy Valcar and Sarah Gaynesford met me at my door at sunrise. I had a water bag and pack with some food, they had the same and Lucy also had a long bundle wrapped in leather which I assumed was her hunting bow. We didn’t say anything to each other, we just walked in single file to the trace path leading into the hills, pushing back some tall brush, started the path upwards.

Farm work may keep you from getting fat, but three hours later I was short of breath as we topped the third crest and started descending again. We could see the meadow with the Standing Stones not far off across a meadow with tall grass and moved off the path towards them. As a hunter, Lucy could probably have looked at the grass we walked through and told us how many people had been passed in the last week, but it wouldn’t have been important.

We had gotten our breath back by the time we came up to the Stones. I looked in askance at Lucy, but she just indicated we should sit down, rest and have some lunch. I swear the woman must say at least 10 words a day. She and her husband can’t have arguments - neither of them talk.

Sarah just shrugged and dropped her coat on the ground to sit on, laying her pack and water bag beside it. I followed suit. I guess we wait.

Ten minutes later, things started happening. A crow flew in and landed on one of the Stones, watching us, followed by two more. Other birds stopped singing. Even the insect buzz stopped. Lucy raised her right hand, then dropped it and nodded to us. I have no idea what kind of signal that was, but suddenly there was a feeling that we were being watched by more than the crows. The air felt like it had more color, which makes no sense to me at all. Air is air. You don’t see it.

“Welcome to the hillside.”

Yes, just as we had been warned, it spoke directly inside our minds. I replied for the group, “Thank you. I’ve been told your name is Anthracyda.”

“Yes. It’s as good a name as any.”

“My name is Rachel Dericote and this is Sarah Gaynesford. You already know Lucy.”

“Yes.”

“Much of the village now knows about you. There seems to be some services you can render to us with respect to, shall we say, affairs of the heart for younger people. In that regard, I’ve been told that you can read minds.”

I waited for a response. But there was none.

“I think we have a mutual interest in keeping your existence secret and only known to villagers. However, there is a potential problem in that two or three of the younger people leave each year and they might talk. Is there any way to ensure they remain silent with respect to your existence?”

I thought back to the last few who had left to become servants, or so they hoped, in some city farther south. If they stayed, it would have been too many mouths to feed. If the tithing avoidance worked, the village could feed more, but the excess crops could be better sold for hard coin. If they talked about the hillside spirit, it would bring attention to the village and our tithing avoidance might be found out.

“You want to know if I can magic their memory.”

“Yes.”

“I can make it seem like stories about me are fairy tales that you tell children that aren’t real. I can’t make it go away entirely.”

“I supposed that will have to do. What kind of payment do you demand for your services?”

A wave of what felt like amusement rippled through my mind.

“Do you really think there is anything you can pay me?”

“There must be something you want.”

Two of the crows spread their wings and glided down of their perch, and to my shock, landed, one on each knee. I steeled myself not to cry out or scramble away. They looked at me intently, then flapping their wings, returned to their perch. I found I had been holding my breath and let it out.

"A village is like a flock of crows. They don’t need a ruler. What they need are lookouts and scouts and cooperation when there is danger. They need members of the flock who can teach them to cooperate with the rest of the flock when there is danger and be free to play by themselves if there is none.

I don’t provide ’services’. If you would like my advice or guidance to help you or your young people with respect to ’Affairs of the heart’, I expect you to treat me with respect. I am a neighbor, not a servant. As a neighbor, I also expect you to properly introduce everyone in the village, including introducing your children to me before they get old enough for affairs of the heart.

Finally, again as a good neighbor, I will talk to those who leave the village to reduce the danger that you fear."

I looked at Sarah. “We could do a fête with the entire village up here. I know at least two girls and a boy who are leaving the village. We could get the introductions and the memory magic all done at the same time.”

She looked doubtful. “A fête? Those require too much planning. I think we just firmly suggest everyone come up here on a day we choose and bring their own food and drink. We can choose the day tomorrow night.”

I looked back at the Stones. I really didn’t want it to think that I was afraid of it. Ripping three pieces of bread off the loaf I had in my pack, I said, “As a token of our appreciation of having you as a neighbor, I offer this bread to your three friends.”

One flew down, landed on my knee again, and took the bread in its beak. It bobbed its head, then returned to the stone. The other two also did this in turn. All three then flew off.

“My friends and I thank you for your gift. May you have a safe return home.”

The air seemed more transparent again and I lost that feeling of being watched.

Lucy got up. I took that as the signal that we were going home. She looked at me and said “That went well. It could have gone much worse. You know what they call a flock of crows?”

“Yes. A murder.”

I think I had gotten what I wanted, and Marion could sell the idea of a village outing as a celebration, even if it wasn’t a fête and involved six hours of walking in the hills. Time to plan explaining this to the other women of the village tomorrow.

I went to see Marion at the Inn around midday. She was sitting with Lucy at a table, drinking an ale.

Marion spoke first, “So what did you think?”

“It seems to be willing to affect the memories of those leaving, but we would have to bring them up there.”

“It does have a name, ‘Anthracyda’. If we are going to treat it as a neighbor, we should use its name. How would it affect memories?”

“Anthracyda then. It can’t erase them, but can make them think everything is just a fairy tale told to children.”

“Everything? Or just what relates to Anthracyda?”

“Just what relates to it.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. It wants to be introduced to everyone in the village, including children, as if it is a real neighbor.”

“It is a real neighbor. We just hadn’t realized it.”

“It’s not a person.”

Lucy spoke up. “You don’t want to make it angry.”

I said, “Its bound to the hillsides, it can’t do anything to us so long as we stay away.”

Lucy replied, “You want to make a bet on how far a god, even a small god, can throw a boulder?”

“it doesn’t have arms. How can it throw a boulder?”

Marion said, “Remember the first time the Vicar said he tried to exorcise it a year ago?”

“Yes.”

“The Vicar said that it just knocked over two of the Standing Stones like they were dominoes. Did you see them lying down?”

“No.”

“So it can knock over boulders that are 9 feet tall and reset them again. Just because it’s invisible doesn’t mean it can’t do things.”

I temporized, “So long as it can help us stay unnoticed, I’ll treat it as if it were a neighbor.”

Marion then changed the subject. “How are you planning on introducing the village? I know you’ve thought of something.”

“We might as well get everything done at once. If everyone goes up one day, we get the introductions done and it… oh, alright ‘Anthracyda’, changes the memories of the two or three that are leaving.”

“How are we going to convince everyone to just drop everything and take a day to go up there.”

I smiled. “That’s your job.”

She grimaced.

Nightfall

Almost all the women in the village had made their way to the inn. I walked around and made sure there were no strangers.

I stepped to the front of the bar and held up my hands for quiet. After a minute, I got it.

“Sarah Gaynesford and I have now talked to the hillside spirit. We can confirm what Marion said three days ago. It has requested to be treated as a neighbor and, as you would expect from a neighbor, would like to be introduced to everyone - including children.”

Cicilia Cullane asked, “How do you talk to a spirit? Isn’t it invisible?”

“Yes, it is invisible, but it talks to you inside your head. You can talk to the air and it will hear you. Or you can just think what you want to tell it and it can hear you.”

Cicilia continued, “Does it know if you’re lying?”

I was a bit surprised when Elspet Malison responded from the crowd, “If you can talk to it by thinking about what you want to tell it, then if you are thinking about telling it a lie, it will know that you are telling it a lie.”

That I hadn’t thought of and would need to be very careful in any future conversations. I was talking out loud to it today, but to the extent I put my thoughts together first, maybe it could see that whole thought process. I’ll have to remember exactly what we said to each other yesterday.

Someone asked, “Do you think it is safe bringing the children to meet it?”

Marion answered, “If it could do something to children, it would have done something to us. When Cait and I were up there with Mathilda and Lucy, it took time out of the conversation to go comfort a doe that was having problems with a pregnancy. That is not the sort of thing that something that wants to harm children would do.”

Cait added, “And we can’t very well leave them in the village by themselves for most of the day.”

One woman called out, “It’s not a neighbor. It’s three hours away!”

Marion replied “It’s not next door to your house, no. But it’s close enough that our hunters and shepherds are around it. It’s close enough that the Vicar tried to attack it. Is it going to buy a drink from me in the inn, no. But it is there, we have dealings with it, and we need to stay on good terms. Otherwise our hunters and shepherds might find the hills closed to us.”

A second said “How can it be a ‘neighbor’? It’s not a person!”

Marion replied, almost scornfully, “And I’m not your sister. Yes, it’s not human. But it can carry on a conversation better than some of the men in the village.”

Another woman asked, “Why should we care? What difference should it make to us?”

Cait joined in. "Marion just said it could close the hills to our shepherds and hunters. But here’s a better benefit. How many of you ever wondered, when you were courting, whether this was the right person to spend the rest of your life with? Anthracyda - and let’s use its name because it has a name - Anthracyda can look into your heart and mind and your boyfriend’s heart and mind, and can show you or show both of you whether your hearts will support each other.

Wouldn’t you want that for your children? To know they are not making a mistake? To know that you aren’t making a mistake, allowing them to marry or handfast?"

That caused a hubbub.

Someone asked, “Is it Christian?”

Marion said dryly, “No, but it doesn’t care that we are.”

“I’m not walking the hills. If it wants to meet me, it can come here.”

Lucy answered this one. “It can’t come any closer to the village than the Stones. It goes much further east and north. In fact, it regularly confuses Border Reivers trying to cross the hills so be grateful for that. But it can’t come here.”

I raised my eyebrows at the claim about the Border Reivers, but didn’t say anything.

“Is it true they used to have sacrifices there?”

Marion rolled her eyes “No, the pagans never had sacrifices there. Anthracyda doesn’t want to be worshipped and, if it comforts animals having difficult pregnancies, can you possibly think it would allow sacrifices?”

“What does it want from us?”

I said, “Just what I told you at the beginning. It has requested to be treated as a neighbor and, as you would expect from a neighbor, would like to be introduced to everyone - including children. It doesn’t want to be worshipped, so you have no danger to your soul. You are not putting anything before God.”

“What is your angle Rachel? You always have something up your sleeve?”

I smiled, “It’s always good to have friends.”

“Did it kill the Vicar?”

Mathilda responded to this one. “No, both Lucy’s husband and I noticed the Vicar had a fever when he came back from Carlisle. He died of that same fever.”

“What do the men say?”

Marion took this one. “This involves the well-being of the village and our children. That is our concern. The men ..” She looked at me and I picked up the cue, “The hunters and shepherds are in favor of being friendly. The rest of the men are not opposed to being friendly, but are mainly concerned that no one talk about this to anyone outside the village. I agree with them both with being friendly and with not talking about this to outsiders.”

Another woman said, “It’s a demon and I won’t deal with it.”

Marion looked sharply at the speaker and pushed through the crowd until she was standing right in front of her. “You’ve already been told by my husband and Rachel’s husband that it isn’t a demon. If it was, the Vicar would have been able to exorcise it. You’re acting like a three-year-old child who doesn’t want to obey their parents.”

A final question was posed. “I don’t have the time and my children are grown and gone. Why should I care?”

Marion responded to this one as well. “Because it’s for the good of the village. If you don’t like it, and you don’t want to act for the good of the village, we’ll remember that and you’re not welcome in the inn.”

I decided to conclude the meeting. “Listen up. This is for the good of the village. Marion and I expect that you, your husbands and your children will, and I repeat will, join us in meeting Anthracyda in four days. It will take most of the day to go there and back, so pack dinner and water cups or water bags.”

There was much quiet conversation as everyone broke up into small groups and headed towards the door, but I knew the village. If Marion and I were on the same side, we could direct them like sheepdogs. And tonight we did.

Next - Village Lunch at the Stones (August 1, 1643)

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