A Love For All Seasons

by Denise Domning

Rob frowned at Helewise's strange reaction, for it made it seem as though she'd done wrong when she hadn't. The only time he and Johanna saw each other was at meals and church. Of course, there were the times they met behind the warehouse, when Johanna wished to speak with him, or he with her, but no one knew about these. Or, this morning.

  Katel fixed the housekeeper with a raging glare. "I will deal with you later. Take her within this moment," he shouted. At his command Helewise grabbed Johanna's arm and dragged the twisting, fighting girl toward the forebuilding's door. Johanna's determination to remain in the courtyard was strong enough to slow their progress to a snail's pace.

  Master Walter's elder apprentice turned his fiery gaze on Rob. "If you've told folk you are a legitimate son, then you lie. Ralph of Blacklea disclaimed you before the whole of your village, saying his wife cuckolded him into accepting you when you're nothing but some nobleman's unacknowledged by-blow."

  Once again the pain of Papa's hurting words tore through Rob. Tears filled his eyes. "That's not true! You'll not call my mother a Norman's whore!"

  Katel's dark eyes narrowed, and he leaned toward Rob as if to keep his words private between them. "As backward as this place is, what you see here will someday be mine. If you think because Master Walter showed you a moment's kindness you now have some hope of making this place your home, think again. I'll allow no rude farmwife's bastard to worm his way into any part of what is mine."

  With that, the youth straightened and threw back his head. "Hear ye, hear ye," he shouted at the top of his lungs, spreading his arms in dramatic display. His words rang against the stones of Master Walter's house. Every man within the courtyard stilled at his chores to look at the young man as the words went on rebounding until they filled the lane. Those in the street stopped and gathered at the gate to see what went forward within the spice merchant's courtyard.

  Certain he had their full attention, Katel shouted, "At the behest of the man his mother cuckolded, this lad is to be known as Robert the Bastard from this day forward."

  Fed by shame and the hurt Katel's wows did his mother, blind fury exploded in Rob. Its heat devoured all sense. No matter that Katel was older, taller, and two, mayhap three, stones heavier than he. All that existed in Rob was the need to hurt as he was being hurt. He launched himself at the youth.

  Katel yelped, stumbling against the unexpected attack. Just as Papa had taught him, Rob set a blow deep into the youth's midsection. Gagging, the youth toppled back to sit on the courtyard's hard-packed earth. Rob fell on him. With his startled and yet unresisting victim beneath him, he used every ounce of his childish strength to pummel him.

  Someone grabbed him by the back of his tunic. Rob was lifted to dangle in midair. Still sobbing in rage and frustration, he swung wildly into the empty space in front of him. "I am not a bastard!" he screeched.

  "Enough, Rob," Master Colin said quietly. The apothecary gave him a gentle shake then lowered him to his feet.

  Rob rubbed his streaming eyes to clear his vision. Katel sprawled on the hard-packed earth of the courtyard's floor. Yet gasping in his struggle to regain the breath Rob had knocked from him, the youth's face was white. This lack of color made the blood flowing from his nose and the marks Rob had laid on him seem all the redder.

  Arthur touched Rob on the back in quiet congratulation for so surprising a success. From the spice merchant's gateway, folk laughed. Here within the courtyard, Master Walter's household guard offered Rob quiet cheers and words of praise for his victory in so mismatched a battle. A second scuffle was going on at the door to Master Walter's house as Johanna continued in her struggle to escape Helewise's insistence that she enter the forebuilding.

  Wiping the blood from his face, Katel sat up. His skin darkened in humiliation. Rage followed shame, and he leapt to his feet. "I'll see you flayed for daring to attack your better," he shouted, yanking his garments back into order. Anger disappeared beneath a rush of triumph. "Nay, I'll do better than that. I'll bring my charges before the sheriff and see you driven not only from this house, but from Stanrudde's walls!"

  Already trembling in fury's aftermath, this threat set Rob's knees to knocking. There was no hope for mercy from the sheriff. A servant dared not attack his employer. He'd be left homeless for certain now.

  "Cease, Katel. It is not your place to demand punishment for Rob," Master Colin chided, his voice filled with irritated confusion. "What did you do to make him attack you?"

  The elder apprentice's pale skin flushed ruddy at this. "It matters naught what I said to him. He is but a servant who will be dismissed for his actions."

  Master Colin's chin jutted out at this pronouncement. "While that might be how your father runs his house, you know full well it is not Master Walter's way."

  Katel turned on his mentor's employee, rage dimming into arrogance as his face twisted. "I'll not be chastised by one too poor to buy himself his own trade," he snapped, his tone condescending. "Stand between me and my right to justice, and I'll see you gone, as well." In the apprentice's face lived the certainty that what he commanded would not be usurped.

  Rob leaned against Master Colin as the enormity of what he'd done sank into his soul. Katel was Master Walter's heir through Johanna, making him like unto a son. No doubt Master Walter would heed anything Katel said. In a single moment of blind rage he'd not only brought shame down upon Colin the Apothecary and cost himself everything he cherished, he'd placed his beloved master in jeopardy. Tears started to his eyes, and he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  "Master, I beg pardon," he managed. Master Colin smiled at him, his hand moving across Rob's back as if to both reassure and comfort.

  "What is all this ruckus?" Master Walter called as he exited the forebuilding's door. The spice merchant struggled to pull a too small blue brocade bedrobe over his hastily donned shirt. Bright red hair spiked this way and that from beneath his nightcap. His legs were bare while on his feet were a pair of sabots, also too small for him.

  "Papa!" Johanna shrieked in joy, breaking free of Helewise to throw herself at him.

  With a laugh of equal pleasure, Master Walter grabbed up his daughter. "Poppet! I missed you."

  "You were still sleeping when we left this morn," Johanna told him, nestling her head into his shoulder, "and Helewise wouldn't let me wake you. Papa, Rob is my friend. Do not let Katel hurt him and send him away," she pleaded into the collar of his robe, her arms tight around his neck.

  "Hurt him? Send him away?" Master Walter glanced at her, then to the bruised and bloody Katel. With a growing frown, he clip-clopped across the courtyard to join his daughter's betrothed, juggling Johanna as he tried to draw the bedrobe closed against the morn's crisp air. "What goes forward here, Katel?"

  What remained of anger departed from the youth's face, leaving only the distressed confusion of an innocent victim. "Master Walter, this lad attacked me. As he is but a servant here I told him he is discharged, as would happen to any other had he raised his hand against his better."

  "Do not let him," Johanna begged again.

  Her papa gently set her down, then motioned Helewise to his side. "Take her within," he told his housekeeper. When Johanna opened her mouth to argue, Master Walter shook his head. "Do as I say, or I'll not give you what I've brought for you."

  Excitement over a gift tangled with disappointment in Johanna's gaze. Avarice won. His daughter let Helewise lead her into the forebuilding.

  "Go with them, Arthur," Master Walter told his younger apprentice. As Arthur complied with foot-dragging slowness the spice merchant scanned the watching men. He raised a brow. "Have you nothing to occupy you this morn?"

  There was a sudden flurry of activity as the servants turned back to their chores. Once he was assured a modicum of privacy Master Walter looked at the one he'd chosen to be his daughter's mate. "Katel, what reason had the lad for his attack?" It was an oddly pointed question.

  His apprentice sighed as if in deep regret. "Mayhap the fault lays on me, master.
I found he'd been passing himself off as legitimately born when he is a bastard. No doubt it was thoughtless of me, but I insisted he speak the truth about his birth." This said, he bowed his head, as if taking to heart the sin to which he had just confessed and absolved himself.

  Rob's mouth opened in astonishment. Katel was twisting his attack into something it was not. He drew himself up in honest outrage, ready to launch a defense, but Master Colin squeezed his shoulder. When Rob glanced up at him, the apothecary shook his head, warning him to silence. Despite his need to protect himself from slander Rob did as he was bid and held his tongue.

  "But thoughtless, was it?" Master Walter laid a big hand on Katel's shoulder. His tone said he knew his apprentice was not the innocent he pretended. "You said nothing to provoke him?"

  "I did nothing wrong." Katel threw back his head in righteous protest of his master's subtle accusation. "It was he who attacked me."

  "So he did." The spice merchant eyed the crusting blood and the now purpling spots on the youth's face. "From the looks of it he gave you good return for the slur he felt you did him. Fit punishment for the one who was taunting him over his parentage." Master Walter's brows rose in condemnation. "The bedchamber window is open, Katel. I heard you."

  With a raging glance toward Rob, Katel bowed his head. "He is but a servant, Master. No matter what I did, he should not have attacked me," he said sullenly, yet trying to shield himself from his attempt to bend the truth. "If he had cause to mislike what I said then he should have taken his grievance to you, as is meet."

  "In that you are right, Katel, but I'll be asking you to have patience with him, forgiving him for my sake. He's not been in the house long enough to know what is what," his master replied, then turned his attention on the lad he'd rescued. "Well now, Robert of Blacklea, I think me you look a sight better than when I last saw you."

  Rob cleared his throat and launched into the pretty words he'd spent weeks practicing for the master's return. "My thanks Master Walter for taking me into your household—" It was all he managed to spew before the words dried up and blew away. He stared at the big man, tongue-tied and shy.

  "You are most well come, Robert," the master replied, politely accepting these few words as full thanks. "Do you find the apothecary's shop to your liking?"

  Katel's head bobbed up from his pose. "He was to be in the scullery! What is he doing in the apothecary's shop?"

  Master Walter waved the youth to silence as he awaited Rob's reply. Joy flowed through Rob as he thought of his time spent under Master Colin's tutelage. "I do, master. There is so much to learn. Although I must wait for your say-so to begin counting in the books, already I keep inventory here." He touched his forefinger to his head to indicate his mental tally of the bags and barrels they had in store. "So too, have I memorized the names and places of each cure in our shop, so I might put all where they belong. Arthur has helped me to recognize that each name is made of letters and that the letters are all arranged differently. This is so I cannot mistake the jars that resemble each other."

  Across the courtyard Arthur darted out the forebuilding where he'd been hiding to spy on his master, and waved his hands in frantic warning at Rob. There was a horrified look on his face. Rob dropped into instant silence; how could he have forgotten that such sharing of knowledge between an apprentice and a servant was strictly forbidden?

  "Is that so?" Master Walter asked, seeming not at all disconcerted by this break with tradition. "More and more, you interest me, Robert. What think you of life among the clergy?" Even as he asked his question, he frowned, as if the thought of making a churchman out of Rob did not sit well with him.

  Katel straightened to stare at his mentor, new outrage coloring his expression. "Master Walter, what sort of lesson do you give this lad when you reward his violent behavior with the promise of yet more boons? Is it not enough that he already owes you his life, itself?"

  Master Colin squeezed Rob's shoulder once again. Rob glanced up at him. The shadow of this morn's speech lived in the apothecary's eyes. Rob caught his breath in terrified understanding. Master Colin wanted him to ask Master Walter about apprenticeship. He shook his head in refusal. In this much, Katel was right. Rob already owed Master Walter his life. How could he possibly ask for more?

  Master Colin's brows rose, both to chastise and to encourage. His master's expression warned that this was his second chance. There would be no other.

  Fear filled Rob's chest, nigh on squeezing his heart into stopping, but his longing for apprenticeship was the stronger. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the reaction his words might wring from Master Walter, opened his mouth and let his heart's desire spill from him.

  "Master, I do not wish to be a churchman. I wish to be apprenticed to you."

  "Why, you ungrateful piece of ox dung!" Katel shouted with such violence Rob ducked, expecting a blow. "How dare you ask this of the master when he has already dug deep into his heart and purse on your behalf!"

  "Katel, you overstep yourself," Master Walter snapped.

  Katel froze, but his was the stillness of deep rage, not compliance.

  "So you wish to be apprenticed, do you?" the spice merchant asked of Rob as if he truly meant to consider the request. Rob's spirits dared to soar in hope. "I do, Master, more than anything. I would be a good apprentice. In time when I have become a master, then will I repay you every pence I have cost you."

  "Walter, I am willing to pay his fee as well as bear the cost of his upkeep," Master Colin offered. "You can take it out of my portion of the shop's profits, the part I've been putting toward its purchase."

  "Nay, you will not!" Katel howled. His shoulders squared, his fists closed as if he but restrained himself from attacking either Rob or Master Colin by the barest margin.

  He whirled on Master Walter. "If you consider this farce you not only mock me and my honor, you besmirch the name of your house. Mark my words. Should you agree to this ludicrous proposal, every righteous apprentice within Stanrudde's walls will rise to tear both the bastard and Master Colin limb from limb!"

  The spice merchant stared down on his protegé from his superior height, his gaze taking in his apprentice's menacing stance. The moment stretched, the courtyard's quiet broken only by the steadily growing calls from the regraters pacing the streets. So far this morn, there were onions, garlic, fresh apples, pears, and cheese available from the passing carts. When Katel did not relax the merchant's expression grew as icy as the cool color of his eyes.

  "This is the second time you harangue me over this lad when what I do with him is mine to me. Disapprove if you wish, Katel. Such is your right as a man. But it is not within your rights to attempt to bend me to your will. Continue, and, despite my contract with your father, I will know I erred in entrusting my daughter to you."

  Katel gasped, his face ashen against the insult he perceived done him. His shoulders slumped, and his hands opened. "How can you favor him over me?" It was an aching plea.

  Master Walter's expression softened in new understanding. "Ah, here is the crux of the matter. Katel, open your eyes. Whether or not I apprentice Rob, know you this lad is no more to me than Arthur. Look at me. I am not your sire, nor is Robert your half-brother. Remember, it is you I have named as my daughter's husband, no other."

  "Nay, I will not speak of this," Katel cried, his voice choked and hoarse as if he were close to sobbing. He turned his back on his master. "I would go now and seek counsel from my confessor."

  "That would be proper," Master Walter replied, nodding at so appropriate a course of action.

  As Katel nigh on raced from the courtyard, Johanna's sire turned his attention back to Rob. "You will have to pardon him, lad. He is the youngest son of his sire, who placed his older bastard ahead of Katel in his heart, his shop, and his will. I fear Katel sees his half brother's face atop your features."

  Then, shaking off the upset of the past moments, the spice merchant dropped a huge paw onto Master Colin's more delicate
shoulder. "I think me you are right, Colin," he said, "this lad is not only bright, but bold and brave as well. Look on how he attacks a man three and ten years his senior and carries the day! If he owns the fire in his belly for trade as you contend, I'd say we've a lion on our hands and I, a third apprentice."

  "Master!" Rob breathed in joy, looking from one master to the other. He gasped, clutching at his chest as his heart expanded until it pressed against his ribs. His mouth moved in words of thanks, but no sound exited; his throat had closed in ecstasy. For an instant, he feared he'd swoon.

  "Once again, Robert, you are well come to this, having earned it by your own efforts." Master Walter grinned, revealing the gaps where he had lost his teeth. He turned Master Colin toward the house. "Colin, think you no more on the cost of his upkeep. After this year's profit I can bear them well enough without asking your aid, old friend. If you wish to repay me, walk before me to shield me from those rude enough to stare. I feel like a damn dancing bear in this." He laughed as he plucked at the robe.

  As the two merchants started toward the house, joy washed in a new wave over Rob. This time, it demanded he share his happiness. He looked for Arthur—not Arthur, his better, but Arthur, his friend and fellow apprentice.

  Master Walter's second apprentice yet peered around the forebuilding's far end. The lad's face was dour, his mouth downcast. This set Rob's feet firmly back upon the earth. Mayhap Arthur also believed Rob shouldn't have been made apprentice. It hurt to think Arthur would no longer be his friend.

  Rob worked his way to the forebuilding's end through the throng of adults who were either entering the house or returning to their labors. "Are you angry that I am 'prenticed to the master?" It was a hesitant question.

  "Angry?" Arthur looked at him as if such a thing never occurred to him then surprise died into deep gloom. "Nay, I am only sad. You're going to die, and I will miss you so."

  "I am not going to die," Rob cried, shocked and more than a little concerned at this sort of talk.

  "Aye, but you are," Arthur sniffed. "I pray you Rob, watch yourself," he continued, his voice solemn as he turned his mournful gaze on his dearest friend. "No matter how long it takes, Katel will see you dead for what happened this day. This I vow."