The Familiars

by Halls, Stacey

  But Alice looked unsure, and twisted her cap in her hands. Her hair was a mass of sprung gold, coiled and twisted like a lion’s mane.

  ‘Does he ask for forgiveness?’ was all she said.

  ‘He betrayed me, Alice, come back with me and I will see to it. I’ll see that your name is cleared – that will be my price. Richard will meet it. We will go back to Gawthorpe and have you a bed made, and in a day or two Richard will arrive home and I will lay out my terms: that for me to stay, you must stay too. I cannot deliver this child without you.’

  Doubt was written all over her face, but, despite everything, I knew my husband.

  We packed our things – or I packed mine, because all Alice had was what she stood up in. She had no trunk, no wedding ring, no husband calling her home and no sisters-in-law who paid visits. No child in her stomach, no heir to produce. She could go anywhere, any time, and if she had wanted to I would have let her, even when I knew I needed her. But she climbed in the carriage beside me, just as she had on the way here. I decided I would give her a horse again when we got home – never mind the business with the other one, for I knew now that I trusted her – and she could ride to visit her father when Richard agreed my terms, and tell him she’d found a permanent position. But what would we find at home? For the first time since Alice told me her story, I thought of the Pendle witches and what would become of them. Perhaps Roger had not been able to build a case against all the people at Malkin Tower; perhaps he was satisfied with the Devices and their neighbours, and tossed Nick Bannister’s list in the fire.

  I held my stomach, and as the wheels rocked on the uneven road and my child bucked and rolled with them, I wondered how anyone could consider coaches safer than riding. Puck whimpered at my feet, tired of the constant motion. I told him we would be home soon, and I would have milk and bread brought for him, and he licked my hand with a comforting tongue.

  I lost interest in my surroundings after a few hours; the sky grew more grey, and the rain fell very lightly, making everything dull again. Alice’s eyes were closed, her head tipped back against the seat. I wondered if she was really asleep, or worrying like I was about what would happen when we were back. Even my child, who often made sleeping uncomfortable, was still.

  The last part of the journey became a race against the creeping dark, and it was after nightfall when I felt the carriage slow and turn into the approach to Gawthorpe. The darkness had a blacker quality here, with the woods dense on both sides. The horses’ hooves clattered on cobbles; we had reached the barn and outbuildings. We slowed to a stop and I heard the carter tell someone in the yard he was instructed to take me directly to the door. By that point, thick with sleep, I’d forgotten Alice was there. We’d spent so much time together I no longer knew what it was to be on my own. The carriage was so dark I could not tell if she was awake, and I longed for my bed. I would put Alice in the next-door room where Richard had slept, so that she was close by. Perhaps he and Alice might even become friends, with the necklace mystery resolved.

  We came to a halt. The horses exhaled and shook themselves. The coachman moved around above us, then I heard his feet hit the ground. I moved first, but the carriage door sprung open before me and I almost tumbled out.

  Richard was standing there. His face was hidden in shadow, and before I could speak or even exclaim in surprise, he took my wrist and guided me down. My feet hit solid ground, and I heard Puck jump out behind me, and then two things happened at once: Alice stepped out of the carriage behind me, and I saw Roger Nowell standing at the top of the steps.

  Neither he nor Richard had spoken, and I could not see their faces properly in the darkness. The torches flamed either side of the doorway, twisting this way and that. I felt as though someone had poured cold water down my back.

  ‘Richard, what are you doing here?’ I said.

  He still had hold of my arm.

  Roger’s voice came from the steps.

  ‘Alice Gray, you are under arrest for the murder by witchcraft of Ann Foulds, daughter of John Foulds of Colne, and will be a prisoner of His Majesty until your time of reckoning.’

  In a moment he was upon her, moving quick as a shadow.

  ‘Roger!’ I cried. ‘What are you doing?’

  But Richard began to pull me up the steps into the house. I twisted wildly, trying to shake him off.

  ‘Alice! What is this? Roger, Richard, tell me at once. Get off me!’

  I pushed him with all my strength and managed to loosen his grip, but before I could run down the steps he took hold of me once again, locking my arms behind me.

  ‘Fleetwood!’ Alice cried, her cap and face the only visible things in the glow from the torches.

  Roger’s dark bulk was forcing her back into the carriage. She was sobbing and frightened, and disappearing before my eyes, but I could still hear her, muttering, ‘no, no, no’.

  One of the horses whinnied in fright, straining against its harness. Then I was in the house, and Richard was closing the door, and I was within, and she was without.

  PART THREE

  A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them.

  Leviticus 20:27

  CHAPTER 15

  Richard dropped me like a hot coal and disappeared down the passage into the great hall. I threw myself at the door and felt for the handle, wrenching it open to see the dark bulk of the carriage moving away, out of the pool of torchlight. I ran down the steps, almost falling over my trunk that was lying at the bottom, and raced to catch up with it, shouting her name at the window, but the drape remained closed.

  ‘Stop!’ I called. ‘Stop!’

  The carter remained facing forwards, hunched over the reins. I fell back as it picked up speed and watched as the night swallowed it whole, the sound of the wheels and horses’ hooves growing fainter, the trees shivering around the clearing.

  I stood for a long time in the blackness until the chill soaked right through to the deepest parts of me. My body felt as though it was submerged in water, anchored to the ground, my gown impossibly heavy. I heard two boys come from the house to lift my trunk and carry it inside.

  I had led her right to the centre of the web, to where the spider was waiting.

  I found Richard in the great hall, waiting for me at the empty fireplace. All I could do was stare at him, and he returned my gaze with the same expression.

  ‘You tricked me. You lied to me!’

  ‘And you tricked and lied to me.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘You told me the girl was not with you.’

  ‘You laid a trap – you had us ride into it. How could you …?’

  ‘Alice Gray is wanted for a crime. Whether she was arrested here or at your mother’s, it matters not.’

  ‘It does matter. Who told you she was there – your sisters?’

  ‘No, your mother. Inadvertently, of course; I’m not sure even she would betray her own daughter. She wrote to me and spoke of a lively young midwife named Jill, who you had brought with you. She wanted to know if Mistress Starkie had recommended her. You might do better to cover your scent next time; I thought you were a skilled huntress.’

  I breathed in deeply, and out, trying to control my anger.

  ‘Why has Alice been arrested?’

  ‘I do not know all the details.’

  ‘Roger said she murdered a child? What nonsense.’

  ‘You know that, do you?’

  ‘Of course I do. She would not harm a fly.’

  ‘Then she will have nothing to fear.’

  ‘Roger is on a quest for power,’ I said. ‘He is only doing this to appease the king and display himself at court like some painted peacock. He does not care about the consequences, that people’s lives are at stake. How many more witches has he found since I’ve been away?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘How many?’

 
; ‘About ten. It has not been difficult for him: they are giving him the names, thinking it will buy them their freedom. They are doing the accusing, not him.’

  ‘We must do something.’

  ‘We must do nothing!’ Richard bellowed. ‘You have done enough!’

  His temper had boiled over. He had been pacing in front of the fireplace, and now he fixed me with the full force of his wrath. I thought back to that rainy day in April when Roger and I stood in the long gallery. Shame on him who thinks evil of it.

  I reached for a chair and held the back of it, reluctant to do something so domestic as sit down.

  ‘You have left me without a midwife,’ I said eventually.

  ‘There are plenty of others, Fleetwood. I do not know why you insisted on using some local slattern, who may or may not have killed a child. Is that who you want delivering our heir?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We will send for another midwife.’

  ‘I will not have another.’

  ‘Then you may die. Is that what you want?’

  ‘Perhaps. It’s what you want.’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’

  I gripped the chair harder.

  ‘Alice is irreplaceable. Tell me, Richard: why are you allowed to keep a woman and I am not?’

  Blood pounded in my ears, and I squeezed, willing the oak to splinter under my fingers. When he didn’t say anything, his face tight and furious, I went on.

  ‘Alice Gray saved my life, not just once but many times. When I itched, she brought me plants to rub on my skin. When I was sick, she made me tinctures. She kept me company when I was at my lowest. She planted a garden for my health.’

  ‘Sounds like a witch to me,’ Richard said bitterly. ‘How else would she know those things?’

  ‘She is a midwife, like her mother before her. Are you like the king now, thinking all wise women and poor women and midwives are carrying out the Devil’s work? Why, he must be the largest employer in Lancashire.’

  I suddenly felt very tired, and was forced to sit. My gown was dusty from travelling, and part of my mind was still in the carriage with Alice and Roger, journeying into the darkness. My head ached with it all.

  ‘Where will he take her?’

  ‘Perhaps Read Hall. Perhaps straight to Lancaster.’

  ‘But the assizes aren’t until August.’

  I heard his boots on the flags and the next thing, he was kneeling beside me, his gold earring glinting in the candlelight.

  ‘Forget Alice,’ he said. ‘You have done enough for her.’

  ‘Forget her? I have done nothing for her! What can you mean? The only thing I have done is lead her directly to the rope!’

  ‘My only concern was your safety. Once I heard who Alice was, I acted straight away, of course I did. What has happened to you, Fleetwood? You are a different person since she came along.’

  He sounded so hateful. I wiped my nose with my sleeve. I wanted desperately to lie down.

  ‘I want to go to Read Hall,’ I said.

  ‘You will do no such thing. It’s late.’

  Again, I was thwarted, bound by my invisible leash. It was strange: I was sitting in my house with my husband and dog, but had never felt more wretched. For a long time they had been enough, but now I felt like a visitor in my own life. I looked around at the dark windows, the shiny panels and the gallery where players and minstrels had performed in happier times. There were the coats of arms above the fireplace – mine included; there were the pair of doors, so two people of the same rank could enter at the same time. Was this really my house?

  Richard helped me to my feet and I kept one hand on Puck’s head to go upstairs. The staircase was dark, and I was already half asleep.

  So much had happened since the last time I was in my chamber that it felt like a new room. I stared at the bed I’d designed as a fanciful young bride, with its headboard decorated with knights’ helmets, crowns and serpents. In the centre, two crests were carved in one: the three shuttles and the mullet for Shuttleworth, six martlets for Fleetwood. I had refused to use the Barton crest here.

  Richard slept next to me that night, whether in solidarity or guilt, it did not matter to me. Puck slept on the floor at the foot of the bed, snoring loudly, and for once Richard did not complain. I stared for a long time at the canopy, and my thoughts raced from one side of my head to the other.

  Alice was accused of killing the daughter of a man named John. Had the child died in birth while she was delivering it? Or could it be a tale, born of revenge from the tongue of Elizabeth Device? Perhaps John Foulds was a friend of Roger’s, with a long dead daughter in the churchyard, made richer for agreeing to peddle his lies.

  I waited for sleep, and knowing there was no figure curled at the foot of my bed, it did not come easily.

  The next morning I took my time getting ready, washing properly after so long on the road. I soaped my hair and combed it, letting it dry down my back before I dressed. Prudence and Justice watched vacantly as I got into my things; I had little need for a maid now I did not wear a corse. I took a clean collar from my wardrobe and a pearl headdress and fixed them in place. I tied my silk stockings above and below my knees, even though my swollen legs kept them up easily, and put on my slippers. A dab of rose oil went behind my ears and at my wrists, and I rubbed my teeth with linen and spat into the used bathwater that was scudded with sweat and grease and dust. Then I opened the door for Puck to go with me to breakfast. I was still tired and sick from the jolting journey from my mother’s and all that had happened last night, and all I could think of was Alice.

  As usual, Barbara’s food was bland and I picked at it, thinking of the cherries and gingerbread and butter pies we’d eaten at my mother’s. Everything was duller here. On the other side of the table, Richard ate with his Turkish falcon sat on his shoulder, like some mythical knight of the realm. If he was trying to provoke me after I’d compared myself to his bird, it had the desired effect. I watched him, not touching my plate. He seemed cheerful and occupied, oblivious to my presence. Perhaps he had grown used to my absence, like I’d had to with his.

  I swirled my spoon around in my oats and pretended to sip my beer.

  ‘I wish you would not bring that creature in the house,’ I said eventually.

  Though I’d attempted to sound concerned, it came out spiteful. The bird regarded me with one serpent-like eye.

  ‘I am getting her used to me. She likes to see where her master lives, don’t you?’

  ‘What if it breaks free of its leash and flies up into the rafters?’

  ‘“Be ever well in blood, for otherwise she will not long be at your commandment but make you follow her.”’ I stared at him, and he grinned. ‘The first rule of falconry and hawking. All it takes is a bit of meat to coax her down.’

  ‘What if that bit of meat is a servant’s finger?’

  Richard winked; he was in a careless mood. The fact that he was capable of that, with everything that had happened, made me loathe him. Never would he brush up against the law; never would he be bundled into a carriage by a magistrate drunk on power. I watched him with a clear, steady hatred.

  ‘I will go to Read Hall this morning,’ I announced a few minutes later.

  ‘To see Katherine?’

  I licked my dry lips.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I won’t join you. I have leases to draw with James.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I am buying up some land left by a farmer. Do you know, his son said he buried a cat in the wall of his house when he built it?’

  ‘Why would he do that?’

  He shrugged. ‘To ward off evil? These local folk can be very queer. Glass windows would do it just as well.’

  I realised he’d made a joke and forced my face into a smile. He had given me an idea.

  I rode slowly on horseback to Read, glad of the fresh air that gave me space to think and plan. Passing the same old dwellings and farmhouses on the same o
ld roads, I saw face after face, all of them wearing their hard lives in every crease and wrinkle. People trudged along, their heads wrapped, their shoulders hunched against pain and illness and grief. Their houses were made of mud; their backs stooped from hard work. I hoped they had moments of brightness in their lives; I hoped they bit into cherries and felt the surprise of the stone. If they would only build a playhouse here, there would be no need for witch hunts. Perhaps I would build one.

  The sky was cloudy and the land green, and once you grew tired of looking at one or the other, there was not much else to see on the road to Read. I drew up to the house, and apart from a boy carrying hay to the stable, there was no one about. I gave him my horse and went to the door, knocking and waiting for what felt like a long time before knocking again. When the door opened, I expected to see Katherine, but no one was there – then I realised the person who opened it reached only to my chest, and I looked down into wide, watery eyes.

  ‘Jennet,’ I said, trying to hide my surprise. ‘I am here for the master.’

  The little girl stared.

  ‘E i’nt home. E’s gone,’ she whispered.

  Her skin was so pale it was almost silver.

  My stomach twisted.

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘Jennet?’ came a voice within the house.

  Katherine appeared behind her. Her face was tighter and thinner than when I’d last seen her.

  I swallowed. ‘Hello, Katherine.’

  ‘Fleetwood.’ She wrung her hands together and stopped a few feet short of the door. ‘Jennet, get away from there. I told you not to answer the door. Get upstairs now.’

  Although her words were scolding, her voice sounded anxious. The child leapt away and disappeared into the house.

  ‘Katherine, is Roger home?’

  ‘No, he’s gone to Lancaster.’

  ‘With Alice?’

  ‘Alice?’

  ‘Alice, my midwife. Alice.’

  Katherine blinked, her white hands clutching at each other.