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Smiggens came over to them. He had obviously heard their conversation. “You can say a prayer for the tree, my lady, if you like, to thank it for its service and apologize for hurting it. It’s an old Celtic ritual. You’ll need a white ribbon and a libation of honey and water to pour at its base.”
Emily turned to Deo. “Could we? It seems awful to remove it with no mark of respect.”
Deo nodded. “It’s an ancient tree. It seems fitting to observe ancient ritual.”
Drawn into the conversation, the other ladies agreed. “I have a length of white ribbon,” said Lady Ashford.
“I shall go to the kitchens and fetch a libation of honey and water,” said the duchess. “And I know just the receptacle to put it in,” she said with a conspiratorial smile.
So everything stopped until the items were fetched. Then Lady Ashford tied the white ribbon around a large, low branch of the tree with a murmured prayer for its forgiveness of what they proposed to do, and Emily and the duchess held the carved, stone urn covered in a Celtic knot design and poured the libation at the foot of the tree.
“Thank you, great oak, for your service in protecting the dead,” said Emily. “We honor you in turn for your silent vigil through the centuries, and we are sorry to disturb your rest.”
“Amen,” murmured everyone, gathered in a circle around the mound to witness the ritual. Emily wiped a tear from her cheek and exchanged a look with Deo, who squeezed her hand surreptitiously.
With the ritual complete, the men began discussing logistics with Smiggens about how to bring the tree down safely.
“We need to remove the lower branches first,” said Smiggens, “to be sure they don’t do any harm to the barrow in the felling. Once they are removed, we can move on to the tree itself and then the removal of the stump.”
Each man was assigned a task, whether it was chopping or sawing off branches or catching them to lay them carefully aside. They worked methodically over the great twisted tree, slowly revealing its structure as the branches with their foliage were removed with chop, crack, and the rustle of leaves.
Em knew she should be sieving, but she was mesmerized by the sight of the men systematically destroying this magnificent old tree. All of them were working in shirtsleeves and breeches. Even Lord Bidenden. Absentmindedly, Em noticed he had stopped to drink some water. She had never seen him look so disheveled. His dark hair curled slightly with the sweat from his brow and gave him a vaguely Byronic air. He caught Emily’s gaze on him and smiled. She looked away hastily, lest he misinterpret her looking at him as some kind of interest in his person.
Deo’s voice broke into her introspection. “You had best step back, Em. I don’t like you being so close to the tree. We’re being careful to catch any falling branches, but these are large, heavy limbs, and I don’t want you hit by any inadvertent slips.”
She grimaced. “I shall not be at ease until you have finished this exercise. It is fraught with danger. I do not want any part of the tree to fall on you, either.”
“I don’t want it to fall on anyone,” said Deo frankly. “Have you found anything of interest in the sifting?”
“A few unmarked pottery sherds and some coral beads, a couple more coins—these ones seem to be King George and one that is perhaps Elizabethan. Nothing Celtic, Roman, or post-Roman yet.”
He nodded and picked up his axe. Taking this as a signal to retreat, Emily went back to her sieving. The women had set up at the base of the mound on the north side, several feet clear of the estimated reach of the tree’s canopy should anything break off and plummet to earth. Deo’s comments had not reassured Emily at all, and as she worked, she was constantly looking over at them and checking the stability of the tree.
The men worked steadily all morning and by lunch time the lower canopy of the tree had been removed and the large branches lopped off.
Staring at the twisted remains of the bared trunk, Smiggens said, “The main problem is going to be avoiding it falling forward onto the mound, my lord.”
Deo nodded, frowning. “We don’t want that. How do you propose we avoid it?”
“We’ll notch the trunk on the far side, of course. But we should also use ropes, my lord, on the topmost portion of the trunk. A tug at the right time should nudge it in the right direction, but it will be dangerous. Timing will be crucial.”
“Well, that will be this afternoon’s problem. We should all break for lunch and reconvene at one o’clock.”
Over luncheon, Deo addressed the company. “The next step will be the actual felling of the tree itself. Because of the angle, it will be difficult to persuade it to fall in the direction we want. Smiggens has suggested we use ropes to guide it, but that timing will be crucial.”
“Well, you’re certainly giving us some good exercise, Deo,” said Emrys with a grin.
“I think it might be advisable for the ladies to remain at the house this afternoon, don’t you, Deo?” said the duke.
“Oh, no!” protested Emily, echoed by the viscountess and the duchess.
“You are not leaving us out of the fun, Robert,” said the duchess firmly. “We won’t get in the way, will we, ladies?”
Emily and Annis agreed that they would not.
“Indeed, Deo, you cannot make me stay behind,” said Emily boldly. “I won’t be left out of this—it’s my excavation, too. You said so!”
“It is your excavation. The duke has a point about safety, though. I cannot stress enough how dangerous this is. Ladies, you must promise to remain well clear of the possible trajectory of the tree.”
