‘By tomorrow eventide, sure. Only a little more riding that would have been,“ the man Jack agreed.
Mistress Avys made to pat Lady Blaunche’s arm. “See? There’s naught—”
Lady Blaunche flung her hand aside, exclaiming at her, “That isn’t the point! That…”
‘What is the point, my lady?“ Katherine asked in an oddly careful voice.
Lady Blaunche spun around to face her but stopped short of answering and after the barest pause said instead of whatever she had been going to, “The point is where are we going to stay tonight? I don’t know anywhere on the way you’re all wanting me to go. What will we do if there’s nowhere?”
‘There’ll be somewhere,“ Jack assured her. ”There’s always somewhere.“
Between one moment and the next Lady Blaunche had turned to piteous, her voice rising with desperation. “But what if there isn’t? I can’t just sleep in a ditch! I can’t…”
Jack started to protest that and Mistress Avys to flutter toward her with soothing sounds but Dame Claire came in her way, going to take Lady Blaunche by the arm and turning her back toward the bench, saying firmly, “You know no one is going to let you sleep in a ditch, my lady.”
‘My baby—“
‘Will do well so long as you do well. Upsetting yourself over what can’t be helped is not the way to do well. Now sit.
‘We have to be going—“
‘We will. Sit you down, I pray.“
Perforce, guided by Dame Claire’s strong hand, Lady Blaunche sat as Dame Claire raised her voice to order, “Host, warmed cider well spiced with cinnamon for my lady, please. Dame Frevisse, would you bring my box, please?”
Frevisse went willingly, one of the men with her, knowing which hamper it was in, and in the innyard while he undid the bag’s straps, she asked him, “Does Lady Blaunche often fret herself this way?”
Sounding long resigned to it, the man said, “Aye, she does and not just when she’s bearing, either.”
Frevisse had been afraid of that. If all it was with her was the unbalance of humours that so often came on a childing woman as her body resorted itself to the growing child, making her feelings as changeful as her body, then mayhap Dame Claire could balance them again, but if Lady Blaunche commonly flung about this way…
The man pulled out Dame Claire’s box of medicines and made to carry it himself but Frevisse held out her hands to take it from him, aware as he gave it to her that Katherine was coming from the inn, Mistress Dionisia following her in rather flustered haste, as if Katherine’s going out was sudden, and in truth the girl moved sharply aside from the doorway and Frevisse coming back toward it, only stopped from going farther by Mistress Dionisia catching her by the sleeve and turning her around to bring them face-to-face.
What Katherine said then, Frevisse did not catch except that she seemed angry. Or maybe frightened. Of what? Of rain-swollen rivers and washed-away bridges? That was all there had been to distress her unless Lady Blaunche being upset had upset her, too. But she must be used to Lady Blaunche’s ways by now. Everyone else around the lady seemed to be.
Dame Claire took the box from her with thanks as the host brought a cup of the same spiced cider Katherine and Mistress Avys had had with their dinner and set it beside her.
‘Baby’s drink,“ Lady Blaunche said with distaste.
‘And you’re drinking it for your baby,“ Dame Claire said crisply, choosing two little packets from among the other packets and small stoppered jars packed in the box.
‘What are those?“ Mistress Avys demanded.
‘Don’t be so suspicious, Avys,“ Lady Blaunche said impatiently. She handed the innkeeper a coin for the cider and asked as if maybe he could be persuaded to change things if only he’d change his mind, ”Master host, you’re certain there’s nowhere near that’s a sure crossing northward?“
‘I’m sure as can be, my lady.“
On that, he bowed and withdrew again and Lady Blaunche said grimly to the wall across the room, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
‘Here, my lady.“ Having crumbled and stirred some dark, dried leaves into it, Dame Claire held out the cider to her. ”Drink while it’s still warm.“
Lady Blaunche took it, sipped carefully, made an appreciative sound, and drank deeply, Dame Claire, Frevisse and Mistress Avys watching in silence. All the men were gone out now and Katherine and Mistress Dionisia not come back in, and when Lady Blaunche had finished and set the emptied cup aside, she stood up and said, calm and determined, though it was too soon for the herbs to have begun to work on her, “Well, if change roads we must, then change roads we will and we’d best be about it. Let’s be on our way, shall we?”
Chapter 5
That afternoon’s riding had an unease the morning’s had not, even though before they were far out of Banbury Lady Blaunche had given over being outwardly upset and was keeping up an almost constant talk to Dame Claire riding next to her again. It made Frevisse grateful for Katherine far more silent beside herself; but somehow Katherine’s silence was not a comfortable silence, no more than Lady Blaunche’s talk was easy talk, mostly about her ailments and her children with occasionally other things thrown in as they came randomly to mind and none of it of any interest to Frevisse. But just as Katherine’s quiet and few brief, stiff words came, after the first while of riding, to seem like a guard wrapped around thoughts she was keeping to herself, so Lady Blaunche’s almost ceaseless rattling began to have the feel of things said to hide thoughts.
What things? Frevisse wondered.
Or maybe it was simply her own and everyone’s unease at the weather that instead of settling was shifting from rain to not to rain again but never one or the other for very long; and the riding was less easy than it had been, the roads more muddied from more rain here, forcing them too often to ride aside, when hedges or walls allowed, onto the grassy verges or else to cut through pastures or fields not yet spring-plowed. All of that slowed their going so that it was nigh to mid-afternoon before they came around and down a steep curve of the road toward a village and into sight, at its near end, of a bridge with the water running high under it and a clutter of village men and a few women at both ends, some of the men knee-deep in water among the bridge timbers along the bank, everyone else standing above, calling suggestions down at them.
In immediate distress, Lady Blaunche exclaimed, “Jack!” and he answered as quickly, “I’ll find out, my lady,” and rode forward while the rest of them drew rein. Dame Claire leaned to say something quietly—and probably quieting— to Lady Blaunche who gave her only a curt nod in reply without looking away from Jack while he talked briefly with some of the men on the bank below; calling down impatiently at him when he reined his horse around to come back, “Well?”
‘They say we can cross, no fear, my lady,“ Jack called back.
From the rear Mistress Avys cried out, “Are they sure or are they just saying it?”
‘If they weren’t sure, they wouldn’t say it,“ Lady Blaunche said, heeling her horse forward.
‘But how can they be sure?“ Mistress Avys insisted.
‘Because they are,“ Lady Blaunche returned impatiently.
Still holding her horse where it was, Mistress Avys protested, “They’re not the ones crossing it!”
‘Nor will we be if you go on sniveling,“ Lady Blaunche snapped. ”It’s safe enough if they say it is. Come on.“
Directly ordered, Mistress Avys came, making small, unhappy sounds until, just short of the bridge, Lady Blaunche drew rein, looked back at her and said, “If you’re all that afraid, come ride with me but be quick about it.”
Frevisse did not see why riding with Lady Blaunche would make the crossing any safer but she kept the thought to herself while they resorted themselves, Mistress Avys riding forward to join Lady Blaunche, Katherine swinging her horse around to Mistress Dionisia’s side, Dame Claire drawing back to ride beside Frevisse. The men waited with the patience of men who have n
o choice in a matter, Jack saying when it was done, “We’ll cross two at a time, please you, my lady?”
Lady Blaunche agreed with a nod and Jack and the other forerider set their horses forward, rode onto the bridge followed by Mistress Avys’ prayers aloud to St. Christopher, and in only moments were across without mishap, Jack calling back, “All’s well. No trouble.”
Mistress Avys’ prayers redoubled in might as she and Lady Blaunche rode forward in their turn, and Frevisse took this first chance to say anything alone to Dame Claire to ask, low-voiced and quickly, “How is it truly with Lady Blaunche? Is she endangering herself or the baby with this riding?”
‘She’s not that far along with child that riding is any way likely to do her harm,“ Dame Claire returned, as low and as quickly and neither of them looking away from the women now almost over the bridge. ”By all I’ve been able to tell, she’s a well woman.“ Dame Claire lowered her voice even further. ”The only ills she has are the ones she frets herself into, and because she’s one of those people who thinks the world will fall to pieces if they don’t manage everything and everyone within their reach, she frets herself into a great many ills.“
From the far side of the bridge Lady Blaunche said, “Open your eyes, Avys. It’s done.” And raised her voice to add peremptory order, “The rest of you, come on.”
They did, Frevisse and Dame Claire next, with Frevisse knowing as soon as she felt the bridge under her horse, the wood ringing hollow to its hoofs, that there was no danger. The bridge’s small trembling to the force of water rushing under it was no more than it should have been. She had crossed worse in her time and left all the prayers to Mistress Avys who went on at St. Christopher without pause until everyone was over, then finished fervently with, “Praise be to St. Christopher and all the saints,” as she made the sign of the cross on herself.
Lady Blaunche clicked her tongue at her impatiently and said, “Jack,” with a nod at him and the other forerider to lead off.
As they did, the rain began to spatter down again. There had been none heavy enough yet to soak their cloaks through nor was this, and with the road soon climbing to higher ground they had better going than they had had since Banbury, and Frevisse, settled into the riding now, was surprised when Lady Blaunche said of a sudden, with still several hours of riding light left and no sign the weather would worsen, “I’m minded to stop the night at one of my cousin Sir Walter’s manors not far ahead from here.”
Her foreriders seemed as surprised, both of them looking back at her, Jack saying uncertainly, “My lady?”
‘The bailiff knows me,“ Lady Blaunche said. ”There’ll be no trouble over our spending the night.“
‘But…“
Lady Blaunche snapped him short. “I’m tired.”
With a shrug the man faced forward again, while on her own part Frevisse found she did not mind the thought of stopping sooner than they might have. The pace had been easy, suited to a childing woman and nuns far along in Lenten fasting but she had been too long away from any riding at all and knew that in a day or two she would be feeling today’s miles, with tomorrow’s still to be added to them. But her next thought, rising unbidden and unsought, was that Lady Blaunche had protested at having to come this way out of fear there might be nowhere to stay the night and now she had a cousin’s manor she was sure of. How was that?
Frevisse shoved the wondering firmly away because whether the protest had been a slip of Lady Blaunche’s memory or not, it hardly mattered and there was nothing to be done about it, anymore than there was anything to be done about the heavy-hanging wilt of her veil beside her face, the day’s damp having long since defeated its every pretense of starch. That that was beginning to annoy her told Frevisse she was more tired than she had been realizing and she did not try to deceive herself over how grateful she was when they turned through a gateway into a small manor yard where the bailiff was already coming out of the hall door to meet them, probably warned that strangers were nigh by the skein of small boys who had left off playing in a flooded wayside ditch a ways down the road to run for the manor with cheerful yells. They had probably also told him that most of the newcomers were women, meaning they were likely simply travellers coming, not trouble, and the man greeted them smiling even before Lady Blaunche rode forward past Jack and the other forerider to announce herself and add, “Do you remember me, Master Humphrey, and can we have lodging for the night?”
The man’s smile widened. “Bless me and yours, of course I remember you and you know you’re welcome to anything we have, from a roof”—he glanced up at the gray-hanging sky, the threat of rain still there—“to beds to a good, hot supper.”
‘All of those will be welcome,“ Lady Blaunche said. ”Thank you.“
It was altogether a small place, a grange more than a manor, with no particular accommodation kept for the lord if ever he came to visit. Instead there was merely the hall with the kitchen off one end and a bedchamber off the other and nothing else except the byres and barns around the yard. Even the village was a good quarter-mile farther along the road and Frevisse briefly wondered where the bailiff’s family would sleep that night as his wife cheerfully cleared children and their things and her own and her husband’s out of the bedchamber that was apparently also parlor during the day while giving servants orders for stripping the beds and bringing fresh sheets to make them up again, while directing one of her women to be off to the kitchen to see what could be added to the evening’s pottage and ordering someone else to be off to the village to see who might have baked bread today.
‘Three loaves. That would be good. Four would be better,“ she called after the woman hurrying away.
Blankets, too, Frevisse thought but did not say, because the family’s blankets would go back onto the beds readied for Lady Blaunche and the rest of them, leaving the bailiff’s family—she had so far failed to sort out how many children there actually were among the bustle of skirts—to take the servants’ bedding probably and the servants to make do as best they could. But there were always the byres and dry straw for the night, she supposed, and assuredly the woman seemed only cheerful about the whole business, shepherding children and stray servants ahead of her out of the bedchamber and into the hall where Lady Blaunche was sitting on a bench and the rest of them were standing, with Jack to hand in case he was needed and the other men gone off with Master Humphrey to see to the horses.
Shooing servants and children on their way, Mistress Humphrey, with a basket of sewing on one arm and a year-old child on the other, paused to give Lady Blaunche a quick curtsy and assurance that all would be ready shortly. Lady Blaunche thanked her with a smile and a few coins. “Toward our supper,” she said, and with a pleased blush Mistress Humphrey thanked her and hurried on, saying over her shoulder that she would have ale brought for them, there was a new brewing.
Before it came, the two servants readying the chamber finished and came out, one of the women coming to tell Lady Blaunche she could go in, if it pleased her. Lady Blaunche thanked her, gave each of the women a penny for their trouble and received their thanks and pleased assurances that if there was anything she wanted she need only ask for it.
‘I’m sure, and you have my thanks, but all I’m longing for just now is lying down,“ Lady Blaunche said kindly and sent them on their way.
The bedchamber was larger than Frevisse had feared it would be, with a sufficiency of stools for sitting if one were unparticular about comfort but no fireplace for warmth or to take off the chill; for that someone would have to go back to the hearth in the center of the hall when the fire was built up for the evening, she supposed, and unfortunately there was only one standing bed with a truckle bed under it, and unless mattresses were to be brought from elsewhere, it seemed they would sleep three to a bed tonight. While wondering if anyone snored, she took off her cloak along with the other women and was looking for somewhere to hang it to dry when Lady Blaunche settled the problem by saying as she gave her own over to
Mistress Avys, “We’ll have them taken to the kitchen. They’ll still be damp come the morning otherwise. Jack, everything seems well enough here. Go fetch our bags. The men should have them off the horses by now.”
Jack bowed to the dismissal and went but scarcely two breaths later Lady Blaunche exclaimed, “Oh! I forgot to tell him…” and was out the door after him before she had finished.
Frevisse, occupied with shaking out her skirts and wondering if anyone would mind if she shut the single window’s shutter against the chill draught, did not see Katherine go a few moments later, only heard Mistress Dionisia say, “Katherine, dear, where…” and looked up to find Katherine gone and her woman staring worriedly at the empty doorway.
Katherine was of an age to see to herself—not fall into the fire or run out the back door to play—but one clear look at Mistress Dionisia’s face told Frevisse that tiredness was overtaking the woman rapidly now that they were done with the day’s riding and that nonetheless she was about to go after Katherine, her worry more than her weariness, and without thinking Frevisse said, “Let me go for her, Mistress,” and was out the chamber door before Mistress Dionisia could more than protest, “But…” But neither did the woman come after her, and after all Katherine had not gone far. The place was too small for the bother of a screen’s passage between the hall and its outer door and Frevisse saw her there at the hall’s far end, just inside the door to the yard but going nowhere, simply standing still, her head to one side as if she were listening. And she was, Frevisse realized as she neared her and heard Jack close outside, saying, as if not for the first time, “No, my lady. I can’t. Master Fenner was clear on it.”
The Squire’s Tale Page 7