The Lazy Dragon and Bumblespells Wizard Read Online Free PDF Page B

calloused hand out and stroked Moire Ain’s tangled hair before she could dart away. “If any of us were truly brave, we would have freed you years ago. Don’t think for a moment that any in the village credit Hedge-Witch when she blames you for the evil she attempts. She’s a vile old troll. I wish we were all free of her.”
    Moire Ain wanted to tell Goodwife Greenfield about the murder conspiracy and the old book she’d found buried by the river, the book she still hugged close to her skinny chest beneath her ragged robe.
    But Goodwife Greenfield walked over to a thick wooden shelf upon which a stone pot sat. Lifting the cloth covering, she took out a hunk of bread and a chunk of cheese. She wrapped them in the scrap of cloth that had been the pot’s lid. “Do you have a pouch to carry food in?”
    Moire Ain shook her head. Goodwife Greenfield untied the leather strap around her tunic and slipped off an old leather pouch. She laid the contents, a few herbs, on the small table under the shelf. Waving her handover the plants, she said, “I do not call Hedge-Witch to cure my family or animals. I know a little about potions, but I’d prefer no one was aware of my skills.” She looked into Moire Ain’s eyes.
    Moire Ain nodded. Keeping secrets from Hedge-Witch was always a good idea.
    Tucking the bread and cheese into the pouch, Goodwife Greenfield said, “If you have anything else to hide in your pouch, I think you can have privacy in the corner. I suggest you hurry. I hear my children outside shaking river water on each other. Do you like to swim?” The goodwife bit her lips.
    Moire Ain knew Goodwife Greenfield was afraid she’d insulted Moire Ain. Witches did not swim or go near water. Which was one way Moire Ain was definitely not like Hedge-Witch. “I love to swim,” Moire Ain said.
    Moire Ain took the pouch from Goodwife Greenfield’s outstretched hand. “I give you thanks.” She gulped, her throat swollen on the words. For the second time, tears she’d sworn many beatings ago never to shed tried to slide out. All this kindness overwhelmed her. Moire Ain ducked her head to hide her eyes at the same time she tucked the book into the pouch, behind the cheese.
    Goodwife Greenfield squatted down until she was even with Moire Ain’s swampy eyes. “I trust the lessonswere sufficient, and that you can read the book you are willing to steal and run away with.”
    â€œI didn’t steal the book.” Moire Ain looked up, tying her rope belt and securing the pouch to her ragged robe. “You knew?”
    Goodwife Greenfield smiled. “Of course. It wasn’t just to entertain my children that I taught them out under the trees. And I would not normally speak so loudly as to enable a child hiding in a tree to hear me. Or flail my arms in the air to demonstrate how a letter or word is made before scratching it in the dirt.”
    Moire Ain wiped her running nose on her tattered robe’s arm. “I give you my thanks,” was all she could squeak.
    â€œI wish I could have done more. The whole village wishes we could have done more. But we are a cowardly bunch.”
    Moire Ain patted Goodwife Greenfield’s arm. She didn’t blame the village for their fear. They didn’t even know how truly wicked or powerful the hedge-witch living in their tiny village was. Moire Ain had no idea why the old crone lived here, but she was certain that secret was connected to the trips Hedge-Witch took every few months. She’d usually return grumpy and muttering about “waiting, and better be worth it.” To cheer herself, Hedge-Witch would give Moire Ain some horrendous cure to deliver, up a cow’s butt or down apig’s gullet.
    Goodwife Greenfield gathered Moire Ain in a hug. “Start your journey, Moire Ain. And the gods be with you.”
    Moire Ain hugged back, awkwardly, since she’d never had a hug