Prologue

Hilde's Story

Hilde of Farstone looked out of the door of her thatched cottage, onto the patch of ground that she had cultivated into the healthy herb garden she saw now. Around the village, she was now known as the wisewoman of the garden.

Hilde's mother had taught her the art of healing when she was a young girl, living in a settlement in the woods. It had stood her in good stead, as she made her living by the potions and infusions she made from the herbs – and from the healing that was borne out of years of that experience. She could recognize an illness and more often than not, knew what to do to make the person well again. Or the cow. Or the sheep. She wasn't fussy. She just, like her mother and grandmother before her, wanted to help any creature and remove their pain and suffering.

Her mother wouldn't recognize the place now, thought Hilde, turning to look inside her home. The wood they had lived in when she had been alive was mostly cut down and replaced by the few cottages in the small village. Ralph the farmer had wanted his workers to be comfortable and warm, mostly because every winter they were dying off. It was a charitable act, Hilde supposed, even though it was for his own benefit in the end. He had independent wealth on his mother's side so he could afford it.

She missed the trees. There was only a small wood now which she could see from her back door - and she needed to walk in them every day to enjoy the feeling of well-being she gained from them. In the other wood, you could walk for longer and lose yourself.

Her cottage was nearest to the wood and was tucked away at the edge of the village. She was pleased with it, she had to admit. The wood structure was covered in wattle and daub and she was warmer in winter than she had ever been. As she was a widow, she held tenement for life as long as she didn't marry again, which she wouldn't. Then she could pass it on to her daughter as this house was much better than the travelling life Agnes was living at the moment – she would be glad of it eventually.

She crossed the floor of beaten earth covered in rushes and went over to the small cauldron heating over the fire. She stirred the contents and put the spoon to her lips. Removing it from the just-glowing fire, she waited for it to cool before decanting some into the small vial. She would take it up to Farmer Ralph's to give to his young daughter, along with one of her special earthenware pots containing goose fat mixed with powdered mustard seeds, to rub on her chest. The girl tended towards coughs and colds and this would help to stave off any further congestion. Along with honey from her father's bees at the farm, in hot water before bedtime.

Hilde wanted to keep on his good side as she had a favour to ask him. She walked past the herbs drying from the wooden beams, past the trestle table where she mixed and ground the potions and poultices, until she stood on the threshold.

She looked past her herbs and out to the small wood. Between the two was an area of grassland that had never been used for grazing, although her chickens wandered onto it all the time. She wanted to ask Ralph if she could use it to plant more herbs and flowers to use for her healing. In exchange, she could promise to let him have his remedies for free. He was a good man, so Hilde thought he might give her the land as it was of no use to him. Ralph was very interested in the art of healing and often asked her questions about her remedies.

Hilde collected her vial and the pot containing her salve, then set off to call for Meg, her neighbour, who was taking some chicken broth for the girl. Between them, they would cure her. She hoped that Ralph would be grateful enough to look kindly on her entreaty, regarding the meadow behind her cottage.