As far as Talisman knew, she had never seen this woman before in her life – but the old woman who came out of the hut certainly seemed to know her.“Talisman Malherbe. And what brings you here? What would you with me? Tis ill enough you and your family have been to me.”
She was unkempt, dirty, and her breath stank. Talisman stepped back, alarmed, and the old woman seemed to grow more menacing.
“Dost know what thy grandsire did to me? I’ll tell thee. As kinswoman came I to him – distant kin, aye, but kin naytheless. And I came to ask his aid, my family all dead and no place to call my home. And aid he gave me – til he spied my treasure. My treasure!” Her voice rose to an unearthly shriek.“And then he wanted it for his own. So he stole it. Aye, but I had my revenge.”
Through a gap in the trees, Talisman could see the sun setting. The thought of being here, alone with this woman, after dark, was terrifying. But I, from my twenty-first century viewpoint, saw someone old, unloved, uncared for and poor. No social services here, to help the elderly. Only family and friends. And it looked like her family had failed her.
“I never had knowledge of my grandsire. But if he hath wronged you, then must I seek to make some amends. Tell me what was stolen from you, and if we have it yet, then will I restore it to you.”
“You’ll not find it – nay, though you search for ever. He hid it, in some cunning place. Aye, and let me seek it throughout the house, and when I found it not, he drove me from his door, crying me liar, and saying I’d be whipped an if I returned. But I cursed him! Oh, how I cursed him. And no good will ever rest on your house again!”
The hideous cackle that accompanied these words was too much for Talisman. She turned and fled the lonely clearing and the stinking hut, running as fast as she could to get away from the old woman and her malice.
Next morning Talisman went up on to the roof of the house. According to that crazed old lady (old witch, Talisman thought) something was hidden here. And like it or not, Talisman was about to make a very thorough search for it.There weren’t really many hiding places on the roof, apart from inside the cannon barrels – and it didn’t take long to look and feel in those.
I knew this staircase and corridor from my own time – Aunt Violet’s bedroom door had been at the end of it. But it was empty of anything that might have been a guerdon. I knew there was nothing in Talisman’s room save her bed (and nothing under that either, save dust and a chamber pot).
The other room that opened off that corridor should have been a pleasant one, with windows looking out on to the garden. This was part of the new bit Talisman’s grandfather had added. But it too was bare of anything. Which, I suppose, made looking for the guerdon really easy.
What made hunting for the guerdon difficult was the amount of work to be done. This place really needed servants – not just the three of them. Talisman and her parents had more to do than they could manage. I had to get Talisman to make her father collect the overdue rents and then hire some help! But it was so hard to get him to agree to do anything. He was just so - well, spineless. As if he had no real will of his own. And Damaris wasn’t much better; but neither of them showed the full-on nastiness that Miss Aislaby, Hugo de Malherbe and the old witch in the woods had displayed.
Matthew and Damaris’ bedroom was the same room Pierre and Anna had slept in. And the same bed as well, from the look of it! There was nothing there either, when Talisman had a few minutes to spare and I sent her to search the room.
Another day, she searched the dining room, even looking inside the rusty suit of armour that stood there, but nothing. Nothing at all. The cellars were empty – too empty – and the old dungeons were bare too, the bars that had once formed the doors to them so eaten away by rust that they crumbled and bent as Talisman took hold of them to open the doors.
The kitchen, in all its poverty, was equally bare. Maybe the guerdon was hidden somewhere outside, and clearing away some more of the undergrowth might reveal it. I didn’t know what it would look like, but I knew I’d recognise it when I saw it – and so far I hadn’t seen it. This kitchen was unbelievably depressing – maybe we ought to make an effort to brighten (and clean) it up a bit.
Outside, more trees were felled, and more firewood stacked against the winter. Talisman, in the end, went and collected the rents herself and hired some of the villagers to come and clear some more ground round Ship House. It was actually really interesting, looking at the rent rolls, and seeing what the Malherbes owned and what was due to them. And if it hadn’t been for the villagers taking things into their own hands, the farms would have been in a much worse state than they were. Even so, I could see that things had been neglected and the land was not as prosperous as it should have been.The other thing I made Talisman do was hire some help to get the kitchen thoroughly scrubbed out and re-whitewashed. I was fed up with that gloomy dreary room.
Things were beginning to look slightly better for the Malherbe family, as autumn approached. Some surplus food was appearing, ready to be stored for the winter months. But I had to work so hard to keep Talisman doing the things that needed doing – and to keep her parents up to the mark as well.
Sir Matthew was fishing the moat (which was remarkably well-stocked: obviously no-one had fishd it for ages) and Talisman and her mother spent far too long gutting fish (yuck!) and salting it ready for the winter. But it was such uphill work! I was getting tired.
It was strange though – the longer Talisman spent indoors, the more apathetic she became. I had to work harder and harder to get here to do the most simple of tasks. The kitchen looked nice now, and yet it was still a depressing room. What was wrong here? And Talisman, despite all that needed doing, had ground to a halt again in the middle of the room. But there was still so much to do! They had about enough food to last them until February so far – so what were they planning to eat in March? And April? And May? It would be June before any crops were coming in.
My frustration erupted and boiled over. I completely took over Talisman’s body and beat my fists and head against the wall in rage and fury. Come on, Talisman! Keep going!
And to my amazement, there was a grating, grinding sound and part of the wall slid back to reveal a tiny room, big enough to hide a man, but now containing what could only be the guerdon! I reached out, took it, and the blackness folded in around me again
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