Fire and Ice

by Christer, J. E.

  “Indeed, sir, thank you.”

  After the service Giselle made her way to the cloister and walked around the arched porticos enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Finding a shaded area she sat down and admired the gardens which she too had planted with sweet smelling herbs and flowers. From her vantage point she could see the doorway into the chapel and was surprised when Luke came out and looked around. He had removed his cowl and Giselle caught her breath as she looked at the handsomest face she had ever seen. His head was unshaven as yet and his hair hung in thick waves of chestnut brown to his shoulders. She could see that he was younger than her, but her heart fluttered in a way it had never done before. She watched him walk along the cloister, a plan hatching in her mind as he approached.

  “Oh, my lady, forgive me, I thought you had returned to your cell,” Luke began as he nearly fell over her feet. “The shade has made you almost invisible.”

  “No forgiveness is necessary, Father. Please join me for a while, won’t you?”

  Luke hesitated and looked around before seating himself next to Giselle who wasted no time in putting her plan into practice.

  “Tell me, Father. Are you not a little young yet to be living such a sheltered life? Don’t you long for adventure, a family maybe, or something else ...”

  Luke looked taken aback by the personal content of her questions but his quick thinking turned the tables on her.

  “You aren’t much older than me, my lady, and if I may say so, very beautiful, so perhaps I can ask you why you wear the habit of a nun?”

  Giselle had not expected this and looked deeply into his dark brown eyes, seeing a flicker of interest which excited her. “You must know, sir, that I am a prisoner here and wear these clothes only because my own have been taken from me.”

  Luke studied her face and saw the truth in her words. “I had heard that you had troubles, my lady, but I know not what those troubles are or were.”

  Giselle was about to enlighten him but movement at the door of the chapel caught her eye, and Father Matthew appeared looking around for his protégé. “You must go, Father. I see you are needed, but ... perhaps we can talk again. Will you accompany Father Matthew each time he visits?”

  Luke stood up quickly when he saw Father Matthew striding towards them and bowed to Giselle as he departed with a whispered ‘yes’ to her question. Giselle waited until the men had left and allowed herself a sly smile. A plan was beginning to form in her scheming head.

  Chapter 20

  Spring was pleasantly warm but Juliana, now known as Meg within the small family group, felt the heat as her pregnancy dragged on. She still had no recollection of the events which had led her to York and no one had come forward to claim her as their own. Ma suggested she had suffered the same fate as her daughter but had luckily survived, but somehow Juliana could not quite believe that. A feeling deep down in her heart convinced her that her child had been conceived in love but there was certainly no proof of the matter. Her days were spent cleaning and cooking while Ma tried to earn a living as best as she could. The sale of the hay had been profitable as there was little to be had after the Normans had set fire to most of the fields but they could not rely upon it lasting much longer. Tom also looked for work around the city, doing odd jobs for the master craftsmen as they worked metal or made pots and even barrels. They paid him little but it was just enough to add a few coppers to the ever dwindling reserve. Sometimes they fed him, which meant that a meal was saved for the next day but Ma was insistent he should look for more permanent work within a household.

  One warm evening in May Juliana felt uncomfortable. Her back began to ache and she moved around lethargically trying to find somewhere comfortable to rest. Ma kept her eyes on her as she stood up for the fourth time and wandered to the doorway.

  “The stars are brilliant tonight, Ma. Come and have a look,” she beckoned to the older woman.

  “I’ve seen stars afore,” Ma answered good-naturedly.

  “I know, but these are so beautiful, come and look.”

  Ma wandered to the door, looking over Juliana’s shoulder. At that moment a star fell as if to earth leaving a trail of sparks and both of them witnessed it with awe.

  “That’s a good omen, Meg,” Ma told her, “mebbe your babby will be born on a night such as this. It’s allus good to be born under a lucky star.”

  Ma looked at Juliana who smiled down at her and put her arm around her. “Look, ‘ere comes Tom. ‘ee looks pleased with ‘isself,” Ma commented.

  Tom looked into the sky with them. “Did yer see that star fall, Ma?”

  “Aye, we did, why?”

  “It’s been my lucky day. I’m to be tekken on by Hjartar, the smith ower by Stonegate. I’m to look after ‘osses when they come in.”

  “That’s good news, Tom,” Juliana smiled but at that moment a pain seized her lower abdomen and the smile turned into a grimace. “I think I’d better go in and sit down Ma,” she said quietly.

  “Is babby comin’?” Tom asked bluntly.

  “No, it’s not due yet. She’s not nearly big enough,” Ma answered.

  Juliana seated herself near the fire and watched as Tom ladled spoonfuls of broth out of the cooking pot and tore off chunks of bread which Ma had laboriously made that morning. The smell of the broth almost made Juliana retch so she made her excuses and went to lie on her pallet.

  “D’yer think she’ll be alright?” Tom asked Ma in hushed tones.

  “A fust child is allus late, but she’s not due yet, not by my reckonin’.”

  “’Ow can yer tell?”

  “It’s not lowered enough yet. She’s got another couple o’ months I should say.”

  “Let’s ‘ope it comes without much trouble, that’s what I say.”

  “Aye, let’s ‘ope it does,” Ma agreed, nodding her head sagely.

  After a quiet meal they all settled on their pallets and sleep came immediately. The next morning Tom was up with the lark and rushing off to his first day at the smithy. He returned the same evening almost dropping with fatigue but happy to be earning a wage at last.

  Another month slipped by and Tom noticed Juliana’s baby lowering in her belly and remarked as much to Ma, who nodded her agreement but said nothing. Tom left for work and was at his happiest looking after the horses which came through for shoeing. He watched his master at work and hoped one day he would be as skilled. The clip-clopping of hooves made Tom look round.

  Hjarter straightened his back, “’Hey, lad. I want yer to meet a friend of mine who gives us good custom. His name is Ragn and ‘ee lives in Coppergate.”

  Tom wiped his hands on his trousers and looked up at the mountainous man in front of him. Ragn smiled when he saw the youth’s confusion, not knowing whether to speak or bow to him. Instead, Ragn slapped Tom on the back and handed over the reins of a black stallion.

  “This is my finest horse, lad. Make sure you take care of him. When he’s had his new shoes bring him to my house. Hjarter knows where it is.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tom muttered, trying not to stumble under the weight of Ragn’s hand before taking the horse and tying him up outside the workshop.

  “He’s not usually that quiet. You must have scared him, Ragn.”

  “I’ll give him something when he brings the horse back. I don’t suppose a coin or two would go amiss knowing how little you pay!”

  Hjarter laughed with his friend and they traded insults for a while before Ragn made his way home. He checked every alley and lane in the area looking for Juliana but once again admitted defeat when his search ended back at his own door. On entering he saw that de Gant was still seated in his corner with Kyle watching his every move. Ulfric and Thorvald told him they had just returned from scouring the city but there was still no sign of Juliana. Both men looked utterly defeated but Ulfric especially so. Since finding out about the baby he had had no peace and hardly any sleep. His temper was at melting point and his eyes slid towards de Gant who had been given a b
owl of porridge which he was eating as if it might be his last.

  “I don’t think we should feed that cur anymore,” Ulfric uttered out loud.

  “He might be useful to us,” Thorvald said, but with a tone that suggested he could not really care less.

  De Gant had finished his porridge in less than a minute and scraped around the wooden bowl with his finger to get every last vestige of milk from the sides. He looked a broken man but no one was fooled by his attitude; they knew that he would kill each one of them if he could - and enjoy doing it. He put his bowl down and ventured to speak but every time he opened his mouth, Kyle snarled and bared his teeth. Ulfric took the dog outside and let him run around the enclosure at the back of the house, wondering all the time where Juliana could be.

  A few hours later, Tom brought the stallion back having followed his master’s instructions. Everyone admired the new shoes and the horse neighed his appreciation of the attention he was getting. Tom handed over the reins to Ragn who took out some silver coins and dropped two into Tom’s hands.

  “These are for you, lad. Don’t let your master see them or he might challenge you to a wrestle for them.”

  The lad’s eyes opened wide with fear and then when the others started laughing, he saw the joke and laughed with them. “Thank you, sir. I might buy our Meg a ribbon for her hair. It’s that long and thick, she could do with tying it back a bit.”

  “Is that your sister?” Ulfric asked.

  “No, sir, not my sister, God rest ‘er soul, Meg sort of turned up and ‘as been living with us ever since. She’s got the loveliest ‘air, red it is - and curly. She’s gonna ‘ave a baby soon. Ma says it could be any time in the next month and mebbe a ribbon would cheer ‘er up.”

  Ulfric looked at Thorvald and both looked at Ragn. They all started asking questions at once and Tom became confused and wished he’d never said anything. He backed away and would have made a run for it but Thorvald had positioned himself between Tom and the enclosure gate.

  “Quiet, everybody!” Ulfric shouted. His heart was in his mouth and he tried to form a coherent question without frightening the lad.

  “Tom, please can you tell us when Meg arrived and if she’s told you anything about herself?”

  “Well, sir – it was when snow was still on ground that I found ‘er. She was sleepin’ in barn but she couldn’t remember ‘ow she got there. Somebody had beaten ‘er up really bad and she still can’t remember owt.”

  Ulfric’s heart thumped and his stomach turned over. Could this be his beloved, Juliana? He looked at the others who were watching him closely, “What do you think? Could it be her?”

  “Only one way to find out and that’s to take the lad home and meet this woman,” Thorvald answered.

  “Will you take us to your home, Tom? We have been searching for months for a woman of the same description,” Ragn asked breathlessly. “She could be my niece.”

  “I suppose it’d be alright, but you’ll ‘ave to speak to Ma first.”

  “Let’s get going then. Where do you live?”

  “Haymongergate,” Tom replied slowly, not at all sure that Ma would appreciate three burly men turning up on her doorstep.

  Kyle seemed to know that something had happened and was jumping around Ulfric begging to be taken along. “We’ll take Kyle. He’ll know his mistress and maybe she might remember him,” Ulfric said.

  They slammed the back door of the house, forgetting that de Gant was now unguarded, so focussed were they on their mission.

  Tom realised the urgency of their quest and loped along with long, youthful strides. All but Ragn kept up with him and he had to stop for frequent rests, waving them on and telling them that he would catch up. By the time he reached them they were standing outside the door of the dwelling and Ma was on the doorstep with her back to the closed door looking none too pleased.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” she asked, arms folded, unafraid as usual and ready to stand her ground.

  “They want to tek a look at Meg, Ma. This ‘un thinks ‘ee might be ‘er uncle.” Tom pointed his finger towards Ragn as he tried to get his breath back.

  Ulfric tried a persuasive tack, “Mrs, er – Ma. If you could please ask the young lady to come to the door we can soon clear this matter up. You see, my lady was taken by a Norman scoundrel and we have been searching for her these long winter months. It is only by chance that Tom mentioned a lady with red hair within your household was carrying a child. It might be my child,” his voice ended in an anguished plea.

  Ma considered his request before answering, “Stay there, I’ll check with ‘er and see if she wants to see you.” She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and bustled back into the cottage.

  Murmurings were heard from inside and it seemed an age before the door opened and Ma stood back to allow Ulfric in. She held her hand up once he was over the threshold to prevent anyone else to enter, but Kyle would not be stopped. He wriggled through various pairs of legs and dashed into the room wagging his tail with glee that they had at last found his mistress.

  Juliana was a little shocked when the dog ran towards her and turned sideways as if to ward off an attack, putting her arms in front of her swollen stomach; but then felt the dog’s tongue on her hand and arm and a deep memory began to rise from the fog of the past months. A tall, lean man came towards her. His hair was like a shaggy mane and his beard was long and unkempt. The room was gloomy as the fire had died down and there had been no money for wicks, oil or candles lately but as he approached her heart quickened and she felt as if she would faint. Her mind swam in a sea of disjointed memories and he caught her as she fell. The last thing she heard was a long-forgotten voice saying, “Juliana, my love. Oh. Juliana. Thank goodness I’ve found you.”

  Chapter 21

  Sir Richard could not believe his luck when he heard the commotion outside and realised that the men were leaving en masse, taking the dog with them. He had not quite grasped what was happening but waited to see if they came back. Time went on and the servants were busy with their household tasks. Gingerly, he tried standing and stretching his legs. He was surprised when he felt weak and then remembered that they had hardly fed him since his incarceration so he would need food if he was to make an escape. He paced the room for a short while, peering occasionally around the partition wall to see how many servants were around. He saw the remnants of the mens’ last meal still adorning the table and moved over to see what he could scavenge, smiling when he saw there was quite a bit left, including half a loaf and some cheese. A cloth bag thrown down carelessly at the side of Ragn’s chair proved to be just right to take what food was left and would keep him from hunger for a few days. He took a swig of wine from one of the wooden goblets but dared not take anything as heavy as liquid with him.

  The house quietened and he took the opportunity to look out of the back door in the enclosure. The stallion had been stabled since the men left and de Gant thought he would make a faster getaway on horseback, putting as much space between him and them as he could before they found he was missing. Sliding around the stable door de Gant fitted the bit into the horse’s mouth and fastened the reins. He was looking around for a saddle when he heard a noise and decided that it was now or never so he leapt onto the horse’s back and kicked him into action. Rider and horse burst through the stable door and almost trampled the stable lad, before disappearing into the distance. He had ridden bare-back before and had the reins to hold onto and took the fence at the bottom of the enclosure with a huge leap, congratulating himself when he stayed seated.

  He laughed when he thought of the uproar he was leaving behind in the stable yard and wondered what Ragn would say when he found his prize horse missing.

  ***

  Giselle stood in line waiting to make her confession to Father Matthew. She was still restricted to wander only within the convent’s walls and grounds but had steadily gained some trust from the other sisters. She completed her tasks satisfactorily and mad
e no argument at whatever she was told to do. Mother Superior was impressed by the turnaround in her behaviour and watched her now as Giselle held her rosary and seemed to be waiting patiently with her head bowed in pious prayer.

  In reality, Giselle was hoping to speak with Luke once this confession business was over. What on earth could she confess while she was stuck in here day after day, month after month with no hope of escape? She relied on her quick wits to make something up as she posed for the sake of the other nuns whilst standing in line. She could see Luke out of the corner of her eye and he seemed to be mesmerised by her, she just hoped no one would notice that gleam in his eye and they could meet in the cloister after confession. Eventually, it was her turn in the confessional and she duly received her penance for unholy thoughts when she was cleaning the kitchen. It had not been a lie as she hated domestic work but had to do it in order to eat. When she left the confessional she noticed Luke had gone and she made her way to the cloister where she strolled for a while so as not to attract any attention and then slipped into the shadows where they had first met.

  “How are you, Father Luke?” she enquired, her lips deliberately curled at the corners to make her face more winsome.

  “I’m very well, but don’t call me Father yet. I’m still a novice.”

  “Do you really want to join the priesthood and give up everything you could have with me?”

  “I don’t know what I could have with you, my lady. I grew up in a strict household and my mother insisted I went into the priesthood, so here I am.”

  Giselle knew he was as innocent as he declared himself to be because she had tried to entice him to her cell but there was always an excuse.

  “Why don’t you let me show you?” she said and reached for his hand. He let her warm hand take his and she put it to her face. She knew the effect this was having on him as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. What on earth would he be like when her plan came together? She moved his hand and kissed the tip of each finger letting her tongue touch each and every one.