'She was a witch,' Alys said with revulsion. 'She was a dirty old witch. Anyone could tell you apart.'
Mother Hildebrande smiled. 'She was an old woman with more learning than was safe for her,' she said. 'And so am I. She was a woman wise beyond her station, and so am I. She must have been a woman who by chance or choice was an outlaw, and so am I. I shall live here, in hiding, at peace with my soul, until the times change and I can again worship God in the Church of His choosing.'
She smiled at Alys as if it were a life that anyone would prefer, that a wise woman would envy. 'And what of you?' she asked gently. 'I have mourned you and prayed for your immortal soul every night of my life since I last saw you. And now I have you back again! Surely God is good. What of you, Sister Ann? How did you escape the fire?'
'I woke when the fire started,' Alys lied rapidly. 'And I was running to the chapel to ring the bell when they caught me. They took me into the woods to rape me, but I managed to get away. I went far away, all the way to Newcastle searching for another nunnery, so that I could keep my vows; but it was unsafe everywhere. When I came back to look for you or any of the sisters, Lord Hugh at the castle heard of me and employed me as his clerk.'
Mother Hildebrande's face was stern. 'Has he ordered you to take the oath to deny your Church and your faith?' she asked. Her hands were still palsied and her face was that of a frail old woman. But her voice was strong and certain.
'Oh no!' Alys exclaimed. 'No! Lord Hugh believes in the old ways. He has sheltered me from that.' 'And have you kept your vows?' the old woman asked. She glanced at Alys' rich gown, the red gown of Meg the whore who died of the pox.
'Oh yes,' Alys said quickly. She turned her pale heart-shaped face upwards to Mother Hildebrande. 'I keep the hours of prayer in silence, in my own mind. I may not pray aloud of course, nor can I choose what I wear. But I fast when I should and I own nothing of my own. I have been touched by no man. I am ready to show you my obedience. All my major vows are unbroken.'
Mother Hildebrande cupped her hand around Alys' cheek. 'Well done,' she said softly. 'We have had a hard and weary trial, you and I, daughter. I have thought often that it was easier for the others, those who died that night and are in paradise today, than for me trying to hold to my vows and struggling with a world which grows more wicked every day. And it must have been so hard for you,' Mother Hildebrande said gently. 'Thank God we are together now. And we need never be apart again.'
Alys hid her face in Mother Hildebrande's lap. The old woman rested her hand on Alys' bright head.
'Such lovely hair,' she said gently. 'I had forgotten, Sister Ann, that you were so fair.' Alys smiled up at her.
‘I have not seen your hair since your girlhood,' Mother Hildebrande remembered. 'When you first came to me, out of the world of sin, with your bright curly hair and your pale, beautiful face.' She paused. 'You must beware of the sin of vanity,' she said gently. 'Now you are thrust out into the world in your womanhood. Now that you wear a red gown, Sister Ann, and with your hair worn loose.'
'They make me dress like this,' Alys said swiftly. 'I have no other clothes. And I thought it right not to endanger Lord Hugh, who protects me, by insisting on a dark gown.'
Mother Hildebrande shook her head, unconvinced. 'Very well,' she said. 'You have had to make compromises. But now we can make our own lives again. Here, in this little cottage, we will start. We will make a new nunnery here. Just the two of us for now, but perhaps there will be more later on. You and I will keep our vows and lead the life that is appointed to us. We shall be a little light in the darkness of the moorland. We will be a little light for the world.'
'Here?' Alys said, bemused. 'Here?' Mother Hildebrande laughed her old laugh, full of joy. 'Why not?' she said. 'Did you think that serving Our Lady was all rich vestments and silver and candles, Sister Ann? You know better than that! Our Lady was a simple woman, She probably lived in a home no better than this! Her son was a carpenter. Why should we want more than Her?'
Alys felt she was gaping. She tried to gather her thoughts together. 'But, Mother Hildebrande,' she said, 'we cannot live here. In summer it is well enough but in winter it is dreadfully hard. We have no money, we have no food. And people will talk about us and then the soldiers will come…'
Mother Hildebrande was smiling. 'God will provide, Sister Ann,' she said gently. 'I have prayed and prayed for you, and I have prayed and prayed to live once more under the rules of our Order, and now, see, my prayers are answered.'
Alys shook her head. 'They are not answered,' she said desperately. 'This is not the answer to your prayers. I know what it is like here! It is dirty and cold. The garden grows nothing fit to eat, in winter the snow banks up to the door. God does not want us to be here!' Mother Hildebrande laughed, her old, confident laugh. 'You seem to be deep in His counsels that you speak so certainly!' she said gently. 'Do not fret so, Sister Ann. Let us take what He gives us. He has given us each other and this roof over our heads. Surely He is good!'
'No! It's not possible…' Alys urged. 'We must go away. We must go to France or Spain. There is no place for us in England any more. We court disaster if we stay here and try to practise our faith.'
The old abbess smiled and shook her head. ‘I have sworn to practise my faith here,' she said gently. 'I was commanded to lead an order here, in England. No one ever said that if it became hard I should run away.'
'We would not be running!' Alys urged. 'We would find another nunnery, they would accept us. We would be obeying our vows, living the life we should lead.'
The abbess smiled at Alys and shook her head. 'No,' she said softly. 'God gave me thirty years of wealth and comfort, serving Him in luxury. Now He has called me to hardship. How should I refuse Him?'
'Mother Hildebrande, you cannot live here!' Alys raised her voice in exasperation. 'You know nothing about the life here. You do not understand. You will die here in wintertime. This is folly!'
There was a moment's shocked silence at Alys' rudeness. Then Mother Hildebrande spoke with gentle finality.
‘I believe that this is the will of the Lord,' she said. 'And I am bound by my vows of obedience to do His will.' She paused for a moment. 'As are you,' she said. 'But it's not possible…' Alys muttered mutinously.
'As are you,' Mother Hildebrande said again more slowly, her voice warning.
Alys sighed and said nothing.
There was a silence between the two women. Alys, glancing up from where she knelt at her mother's feet, saw that the abbess' eyes were filled with tears.
'I…' she started.
'When can you join me here?' Mother Hildebrande demanded. 'We should start our new life at once. And there are many things we need which you can provide.'
Alys' moment of penitence was brief. 'I don't know when I can come,' she said distractedly. 'My life at the castle is so uncertain…' She broke off, thinking of Hugo and Catherine, and her own baby growing in her belly. 'I could come next week perhaps,' she said. 'I could come for a few days next week.'
Mother Hildebrande shook her head. 'That is not enough, Sister Ann,' she said gently. 'You have been away from our holy Order for many months, but before then you lived with us for many years. You cannot have forgotten our discipline so soon. You may go now, but you must come back tomorrow, wearing a plain dark gown and bringing with you whatever Lord Hugh is prepared to give gladly. For the rest, we will grow our own food and weave our own cloth. We will make our own rushlights and write our own books from memory. We will make bread and sell it in the market, we will fish, and sell what we catch. And we will make simple medicines and remedies and sell or give them to people who are in need.' Alys kept her eyes down so Mother Hildebrande could not see her panic and her immediate utter refusal. 'It looks very dark for our Church,' Mother Hildebrande said. 'But this is how it was for Saint Paul himself, or for Saint Cuthbert when the English Church was nearly destroyed before, by the pagans. Then, as now, the Lord called His people to serve Him in darkness and secr
ecy and want. Then, as now, their faith triumphed. God has called us for a special mission, Sister Ann, only He knows how great our work will be.' Alys said nothing. Mother Hildebrande no longer looked like a weary old lady. Her face was radiant with her joy, her voice strong with certainty. She broke off and smiled at Alys, her familiar, loving smile.
'Go now,' the abbess said gently. 'It must be near the time for sext. Pray as you ride back to the castle and I will pray here. You have not forgotten the offices of the day, Sister Ann?'
Alys shook her head. She could not remember one word of them. 'I remember them all,' she said.
The abbess smiled. 'Say them at the appointed hours,' she said. 'The Lord will forgive us that we are not on our knees in His chapel. He will understand. And tomorrow, when you come, you will confess to me your sins and we will start afresh.' Alys nodded dumbly.
The abbess rose from the stool. Alys saw she walked very stiffly, as if her back and her hip bones and legs all ached.
‘I am a little weary,' she said, as she caught Alys' look. 'But once I start working in the garden I shall grow fit and strong again.'
Alys nodded and went out of the door. The abbess stood on the threshold. Alys untied the pony's bridle and then remembered her bag of food.
'Here,' she said. ‘I brought this for my dinner, but you can have it.'
The abbess' wise old face lit up with a smile. 'There, my child!' she said delightedly. 'The Lord has provided for us, and He will provide for us over and over again. Don't be faint-hearted, Sister Ann! Trust in Him, and He will bring us to great joy.'
Alys nodded dumbly and climbed up the step of the sheep gate and stepped into the saddle.
That's a very fine horse,' the abbess observed. 'Too good for a cleric, I would have thought.'
'It's Lady Catherine's horse,' Alys said quickly. 'She is carrying the young lord's child and cannot ride. They like me to ride her mare to keep it in exercise.'
The abbess nodded slowly, looking from the horse to Alys. For one moment Alys was gripped with a chilling certainty that the old woman understood everything, could see everything. The lies, the witchcraft, the walking wax dolls, the murder of Morach, and the bed with three writhing, greedy bodies. Hugo's laugh when he called her his wanton whore echoed in the sunny afternoon air around them.
Mother Hildebrande looked into Alys' face, unsmiling. 'Come tomorrow,' she said gently. ‘I think you have been very near to very grave sin, my daughter. Come tomorrow and you can confess to me and with the guidance of God I will absolve you.'
'I have not been near sin,' Alys said breathlessly. She managed a clear honest smile. 'Nowhere near, praise God!' she said lightly.
Mother Hildebrande did not smile in return. She looked from the expensive, elegant pony in the rich, well-made harness to Alys in her red gown with the silver embroidered stomacher and her cherry-red cape; and her old face was drained of its earlier joy. She looked as if she had been cut to the heart.
'Tomorrow at noon,' she said firmly and turned and went back inside the cottage.
Alys watched the door shut on the frail figure and stayed for a moment longer. There was no sound of a tinderbox, no smoke drifted out of the barred window. There would be no dry kindling in the hut, perhaps only one or two rushlights. Morach might have hidden her tinderbox. But even if there had been one – Mother Hildebrande would not have known how to light a fire.
Alys wrenched the mare's head around towards home. 'Come on!' she said sullenly. She kicked it hard and the animal flinched and lunged forward, nearly unseating her. 'Come on!' she said.
Twenty-five
When Alys rode up to the inner castle gate Eliza came dashing down the stairs, pushing past the soldiers and dragging her from the saddle.
'Come at once! Come at once!' she said in an urgent undertone. 'It's Catherine! She's in pain. None of us know what to do! Thank God you're back now! They were about to send the soldiers out to look for you!'
Alys let Eliza grab her and rush her across the drawbridge, through the great hall and up the stairs to the ladies' gallery.
The place was filled with people. Servants were dodging in and out carrying trays. Sheets were airing before the fire. Someone had let Hugo's deerhound into the room and it growled when it saw Alys. Two serving-men were labouring up the stairs with the bath-tub, another two coming behind with churns of hot water.
'She said she wanted a bath,' Eliza said. 'She wanted you to bath her again, like you did yesterday. Then she said she felt pains in her belly. She was walking around to ease them. We made her get into bed. Hugo has only just come in himself, we were afraid you were off together and would be gone all day. David has just gone to tell Lord Hugh. Catherine's in her bedroom -go to her, Alys! Go to her!'
Alys clapped her hands. 'Out of here!' she shouted. All of her anger and fear and frustration boiled over in one releasing burst of rage. 'Out of here, you useless toss-pots!' she yelled. She took one of the servants by the shoulder and spun him around and thrust him out of the room. He staggered on the stairs and collided with another, hurrying up the stairs with extra sheets. Alys grabbed a page-boy by the ear and pushed him out of the room. One of the serving-wenches was giggling helplessly at the chaos. Alys smacked her hard across the face and watched with vicious pleasure as the red marks of her fingertips showed on the girl's cheek.
'Now get out,' Alys said to them all. 'I will call you if I need any of you.'
She left them scrambling for the gallery door and stalked towards Catherine's bedroom.
Hugo was at the head of the bed, holding Catherine's hands. Her women, Ruth, Mistress Allingham and Margery, were on the other side of the bed. Ruth was swinging a censer of silver which Alys recognized as part of Hugo's haul from the nunnery. The air was thick with the throat-rasping smell of incense. Margery was sponging Catherine's head. She was tossing on the pillow, with her eyes shut. Every now and then she gave a gasp of pain and strained her body upwards as if some giant hand had gripped her in the middle and hauled her to the roof.
'Stop that,' Alys said irritably to Ruth. 'And open a window. The place stinks.'
Hugo looked up, his scowl disappearing. 'Thank God you're back, Alys,' he said. 'No one knew what to do, and the physician in Castleton is away all week. I was on the edge of sending for the wise woman from Richmond.' 'When did the pains start?' Alys asked. Catherine opened her eyes at Alys' voice. 'This morning,' she said. 'When I woke.'
Alys nodded knowledgeably, though she knew nothing more. 'I'll have to look at her,' she said. 'You'd better wait outside.'
Hugo leaned over Catherine's bed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. As he passed Alys he laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Save my son,' he said in an undertone. 'Nothing in the world is more important than that.'
Alys did not even look at him. 'Of course,' she said curtly.
Hugo's pat on her shoulder was that of a man to a trusted comrade. Alys, remembering his hands cupped on her breasts as he thrust her towards Catherine's smothering embrace, shot him an angry glare, but he was looking at Catherine. He did not even see her.
'Give her something to ease her pain,' he said softly. 'She's being very brave. I'll be outside all the time. I'll come in if she wants me.' 'Certainly,' Alys said frigidly.
Hugo led the way out of the room, the women scuttling after him. 'Shall I stay?' Eliza asked.
'What could you do?' Alys asked cruelly. 'You know nothing. What use could you be? Tell them to bring the chest of my things from my room.'
Catherine moaned again and Alys went swiftly to her side.
'What sort of pain is it?' she asked. 'Like opening,' Catherine gasped. 'Like opening up and splitting. Alys, help me!'
There was a tap at the door. Two serving-men came into the room carrying Alys' chest of herbs and oils, put it gently on the floor and went out. Alys opened the chest and took out a twist of powder in a piece of paper. 'On the right side or on the left?' she asked. Catherine groaned again. 'All over,' she said. 'I feel strange, A
lys. As if this were not me. I feel in the grip of something else.'
'Open your mouth,' Alys said. Deftly she tipped the powder down Catherine's throat and then held a glass of water for her to sip. At once Catherine's colour came back into her cheeks and she breathed a little more easily.
'What can it be, Alys?' she asked. 'It's something wrong with the baby, isn't it?'
'It's coming before its time,' Alys said. 'Could you have been mistaken with the dates, Catherine? You are only nearing your seventh month. It should not come yet.'
Catherine gasped as another pain seized her. 'I could be, I could be,' she said. 'But not two or three months wrong. There's something wrong. I can feel it!'
'What can you feel?' Alys asked urgently. Hidden away at the back of her mind was the thought that perhaps Catherine's pregnancy was going wrong. That the child would not be born, or would not be a son. Or would be born dead. Or if Catherine were to die…
‘I feel strange,' Catherine said. Her voice sounded unreal, as if she were calling from a long way away. 'Help me, Alys! You love me dearly I know! Help me, Alys! I feel as if the child is slipping out of me, melting and slipping away!'
Alys stripped back the covers. Catherine's plump, puffy legs were stained with veins of blue, flushed pink with heat. Alys pulled up Catherine's shift with reluctance and peered at her. The lower sheet was stained with a pale, creamy juice.
'Is this your waters? Have your waters broken?' Alys asked.
Catherine shook her head, her body twisted as a spasm of pain took her. ‘I don't know, I don't think so,' she said. ‘I have had nothing but this oozing.'
'No blood?' Alys asked.
'No,' Catherine said. 'Alys, keep the baby inside me. I can feel it melting.'
The Wise Woman Page 40
