Child of the May

by Theresa Tomlinson

  “Yes,” said Robert thoughtfully. “We’ve bought the girl a bit of time, but we shall have to think long and hard about it. Even if we can manage to raise the money he demands, the man never keeps to his word. Once John has dealt with my Lady de Braose, he’ll remember this other Matilda and he’s in such a rage, God knows what he’ll do.”

  The fat face of Brother James lit up with excitement.

  “Matilda . . . de . . . Braose.” He said the words slowly and with pleasure. “I have a wild idea that might teach the King what true rage is!”

  10

  The Bravest Woman in the Land

  Robert was instantly excited and smiling hugely. “Why, damn it, James!” he cried. “Is this one of your crazy plans? I need something mad and risky to cheer me.”

  “What’s this?” Tom frowned down at a muddle of scratched lines and marks upon the rock.

  “It’s a map,” James told them. “Though only clever learned folk like me can read it.”

  Robert threw a mock punch at his face. “All right, all right! Explain it to us poor fools.”

  James pointed with a dirty finger. “Now see this line here, the Great North Road, and this patch here, Barnsdale Waste, and here that dip in the land where the River Went runs.”

  “Our favourite spot for bishop-baiting,” cried Tom.

  John and Magda came slowly to join them, calmed a little and intrigued by Brother James’s excitement.

  “What’s this you’re plotting now?” John asked.

  “A rescue.” Brother James spoke so fast that tiny beads of spit flew from his lips. “A rescue that will stagger the King.”

  “Steady on,” said Tom, wiping his eye. “You’ll have drowned us all before we’re done.”

  Brother James ignored him, waving his hands wildly. “Don’t you see? We have a bit of time to make a plan, for it will take those foul wolfhounds a se’nnight to reach the Scottish borders and then start back again.”

  “What?” Robert cried. “He’d have us set about the Wolfpack?”

  “Wherever they are taking my Lady de Braose, they shall have to travel the Great North Road and pass through Barnsdale.” Brother James wagged a finger in Robert’s face. “That is where they are weak and we are strong.”

  “I’m for it,” cried John at once. “It’ll give me a chance to get my hands on FitzRanulf.”

  “It’s the woman I’m after,” said Brother James.

  “What do you want with her?” Robert asked, amazed. “When have we bothered with mighty lords and their wives!”

  James’s face was red with concern. “She’s the bravest woman in the land.”

  It was dusk when they began crossing the wilder scrub land at the edge of the Waste, and Magda was exhausted. Robert and Brother James marched steadily ahead of them, discussing their plans with wild enthusiasm. The truth was that Magda longed for the comfort of her sweet-smelling straw pallet, and Marian’s glowing fire. A faint clop, clop of horses hooves made Tom whistle a quick warning and without further fuss, they all melted into the ditch.

  John gently pushed Magda’s head down beneath the cover of a holly bush, but then she felt her father relax. “Just one horse,” he whispered, “and nowt but a stringy bairn.”

  Magda got up and recognised at once the pathetic rider. “Oh no,” she sighed, somehow irritated. “Not him again. We gave him the horse! Isn’t that enough?”

  Robert, Tom and James climbed out of the ditch and joined them. Tom went forward to meet the boy, but though he stood there staring up into Alan’s face, the lad made no attempt to halt. Tom dived to the side, to avoid the horse’s trampling hooves, then quickly recovered and ran after it, snatching at its bridle. “Whoa!” he shouted.

  The old nag stopped willingly enough when bidden, but Magda warned the others off. “Leper!” she cried. “Beware!”

  Quietly they gathered about the rider, keeping a good arm’s distance. The boy’s face was white and blank, his eyes focused far beyond them on the road ahead. “Alan,” Tom spoke gently. “Where have you been? You set off far ahead of us.”

  No answer came. No response of any kind.

  “He set off north,” Tom told them. “How has he taken so long? What is wrong?”

  They all looked up again at the small figure. Magda thought him as lifeless as a statue she’d seen in the great hall of Nottingham Castle. If it was not that he sat so straight and still clutched the reins, he might be dead.

  Brother James patted the steaming rump of the potter’s mare. “I think this old lass has been in charge,” he said. “I dare say she’s been taking her chance to feed on marsh-watered grass, but now she wants warm stabling so she heads for her home in Mansfield.”

  “Aye,” Robert smiled. “The lad has sat like a moppet, and never taken charge.”

  Brother James shook his head sadly. “I fear that this poor lad can take charge of naught.”

  11

  None Shall Be Turned Away

  “We should take him to Marian,” said Tom.

  “What?” Magda cried. “And risk ourselves?”

  Robert and John were both silent, worried by Tom’s suggestion.

  Brother James shook his head. “I know naught of leprosy,” he said. “But Mother Veronica does.”

  They all turned to stare at him, surprised. Mother Veronica and the Sisters of the Magdalen lived close to Langden, quietly caring for the sick and needy around them.

  “The nuns have never had lepers in their care,” said Magda.

  “No, not here in the wastes.” Brother James smiled with amusement. “But Veronica was not always a nun. She’s travelled widely! Why, when she was just a young lass she was maid to King John’s mother. Eleanor of Aquitaine went off over sea and land to Outremer with her first husband, the young French king. Veronica went with them.”

  “You mean Mother Veronica went to Jerusalem? Following the crusaders?” Robert was amazed.

  “You sound a touch envious!” said John.

  “I thought they’d always been there in the woods,” said Magda. It was very hard to see fat, bossy Veronica as an adventurous young woman travelling with foreign kings and the famous Queen Eleanor.

  “There’s much you do not know about Veronica.” Brother James chuckled. “She was once betrothed to a brave knight, but she never married him. Veronica refused to follow her mistress back home to France, so they parted company. Veronica stayed out there in those strange heathen lands for many years, helping to set up a hospital for lepers.”

  There was a moment of silence while they struggled to fix this new picture of the nun in their minds.

  “So, what of this lad?” Tom was determined to make them think of the present. “We’re not far from Langden now.”

  “There are leper hospitals here,” said James. “I believe there’s one at York.”

  “He looks half dead, anyway,” Magda muttered.

  James turned to her and spoke rather sternly for him. “I think it only Christian and decent that at least we take him with us to the Forestwife.”

  Magda frowned and felt mean. Truth was, she was desperate to get home now.

  “Aye,” Robert agreed. “We can all keep our distance from him. Let the poor fellow follow behind us. We’d best not call in at Langden – they’ve trouble enough.”

  “You go on ahead,” Tom insisted. “I’ll lead Alan’s horse. I swear he knows nowt of what’s going on.”

  They set off again as fast as they could, hoping to reach the Forestwife’s clearing before the light went. As they trudged through the gloom Madga longed to be home. Her feet were sore, but she knew that each step brought her closer to her familiar woodland. She had had enough of adventuring for the moment. Even the muddy, sappy smell comforted her.

  “Not far now,” her father soothed. “Shall I carry thee?”

  Magda shook her head. It would be shameful to arrive back from her first outing into the world beyond Barnsdale, carried; especially in front of Tom. She turned to look
for him as they reached the secret maze of paths that protected the Forestwife’s clearing. She stared, puzzled, though it was hard to see in the failing light. The horse ploughed on with the silhouette of the lad above. Magda could see no sign of Tom.

  “Tom! Where is he?” she cried.

  John turned round, screwing up his eyes to see better. Then as the horse plodded towards them, they saw the dark shape of Tom riding behind the leper boy. He was supporting him; arms around the lad’s waist, the reins in his hands. Magda was so shocked she could not speak. Blood drained from her face. She and John stared, horrified.

  As the horse came close Magda could only whisper, “Why, Tom? Why? You have put us all at risk!”

  “He has given up all hope,” Tom told her. “I came to the Forestwife like him, my life in tatters. Though I was only a child, and it was long ago, I can’t forget it!”

  “Thank goodness, you’re back.” Marian’s voice rang out clear and a flickering light showed through the dark trees. She strode towards them from the shadows, carrying a lantern high.

  “Aye,” Robert answered her. “We’re all back safe, but I fear we’ve brought more worries with us. See what this mad fellow has done.” Robert pointed to Tom.

  Marian shielded her eyes to see better. “Is that Tom?”

  “Aye,” said Robert. “And we believe the lad to be leprous.”

  “He’s gone mad,” cried Magda. “It’s bad enough that Tom insists we bring the boy here, but then he goes and climbs up on the horse with him. He’ll make lepers of us all!”

  Marian frowned and moved closer as the horse snickered and stopped. “I know Tom,” she said. “He does naught without good reason.”

  Tom’s face was pale in the lantern’s light. He shrugged his shoulders. Brother James went to put his arm round Marian. “Veronica knows much of the disease,” he said. “I thought perhaps she could help.”

  “It seemed hard to leave the lad,” John agreed. “He’s nowt but a bairn. It seems his father carried him out to the woods and left him outcast. I know the man’s right by law, but it’s a bitter decree that makes a father throw out his child.”

  Marian lifted the lantern until it lit Alan’s blank, still face.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  There was no reply.

  “He is called Alan,” said Tom. “He’s too fearful even to speak.”

  Marian gave a great sigh, but then she spoke solemnly. “Of those who seek the Forestwife, none shall be turned away.”

  “I hope you know what you do,” said Robert thoughtfully. “Does not the law say lepers must be cast out?”

  “And does that trouble thee?” Marian feigned astonishment.

  Robert suddenly laughed and kissed her. “You are right, sweetheart. He’s one of us! We might as well add another small crime to our great list!”

  “Aye,” Marian sighed. “Tom, will you take Alan and the horse round to the shelter at the back. There’s straw to make a bed and I shall bring round rugs and food. And Tom, I fear . . .”

  “Aye,” said Tom. “I know. I’ll stay there with him.”

  Marian nodded. “We’ll send for Veronica at dawn.”

  There was a great to-do getting everyone fed and warm inside the small hut, but the old one had the fire built up and a great pot of mutton stew bubbling above it.

  It was only when they had eaten their fill and wiped their bowls with fresh-baked bread that they began to tell what had happened in Nottingham.

  “So, do you think Matilda and Isabel are safe?” Marian asked.

  “Safe for a time,” Robert told her. “The King has a greater Matilda to worry about now, and James has a wild idea of rescue in his head. So crazy a plan that I warm to the thought of it.”

  Marian smiled. “I thought I knew that gleam in your eye.”

  “If we could succeed it would delight all of England,” said James. “It would make the King a laughing stock.”

  Marian listened well as they told her how the King had sent the wolfpack off to the Scottish borders to take captive the Lady de Braose.

  “Aye,” Marian agreed. “Though she was once rich and powerful, I do honour her actions. She’s lost all she had by defying the King, and she’s done it in defence of her children. She is a good mother – I’ll give her that.”

  Magda went to her straw pallet and snuggled beneath her goatskin rug. Even Marian seemed keen for this new scheme of theirs. Magda could not share their interest; she was still angry with Tom, though she could not quite work out why.

  As the fire died down, one by one the company fell asleep until, besides Magda, only Robert and Marian remained awake. At last they went to Marian’s straw pallet and settled down together for the night. Magda could hear Marian laughing softly. She turned over so that she could not see them any more. Marian had not laughed like that for a long time. I suppose she’ll be singing in the morning, Magda thought.

  12

  An Awkward Man

  Magda did not sleep well and crept out of the hut at the first touch of dawn. She stumbled round to the spring behind the cottage as darkness slowly lifted from the sheltering yew trees, but someone was there at the spring before her.

  “Tom?” she called.

  “Aye.” He dipped a wooden bowl into the the clean warm spring water that bubbled up from the rocks at the heart of the Forestwife’s clearing.

  Magda crouched beside him and splashed water into her face, then as Tom stepped back towards the shelter with a full bowl she remembered Alan.

  Her stomach tightened with fear. “Don’t you let him touch this water!” she cried. “He might foul it all up with his disease.”

  Tom nodded. “That’s why I carry water to him.”

  Magda watched as he carefully carried water into the lean-to and listened as he woke the boy, speaking gently to him. Then she heard a faint and husky reply.

  Magda sighed and returned to the hut. Marian was awake and looking for her.

  “Will tha run to Mother Veronica and fetch her to look at that poor lad?”

  Magda pulled a face. “Can’t Tom go?”

  “I think it best Tom stay by Alan’s side until we hear what Veronica has to say. Besides,” said Marian, touching Magda’s cheek, “there’s none that can run as fast through the secret tracks as you, and the sooner we know how to care for the boy the better, don’t you think?”

  Magda had to agree. The sooner they were rid of him the happier she would be, so she pulled on Tom’s breeches again and laced on her strong leather boots. “I think I like men’s clothes,” she said more cheerfully. “Better for running in.”

  The sun gave sharp light and good warmth as Magda went through the woods. Her spirits soared as she ran like a hare through dew-laden grass, past branches of trembling hazel catkins. As she neared the forest convent of the Magdalen, she found that a fine carpet of bluebells covered the ground. She drew in deep lungfuls of scented air. The rich sights and smells of Nottingham Town had nothing to equal this.

  Magda arrived at the convent breathless and hungry. Sister Rosamund took one look at her and quickly served up warm fresh bread and goat’s milk cheese with a mug of the nuns’ thin ale.

  Mother Veronica sat at the table and listened as Magda gasped out the story of Alan.

  The old nun shook her head. “Poor boy, poor boy!” she said.

  “But he’ll make us all sick like him!” Magda cried. “Even the law says it . . . lepers must live apart from healthy folk.”

  Mother Veronica shook her head. “Aye, but there’s much within the law that is unjust. Believe me, child,” she said, taking Magda’s hand, “there is no need for all this fear. I spent seven years living with lepers and caring for them. I did not catch the disease, nor any who worked alongside of me. We must be careful not to touch leprous sores or share food and eat from their bowls, but that is all.”

  “I hit him with my fist,” Magda cried, clenching her fist again.

  “Poor boy,” repeated Ve
ronica.

  “But will I get leprosy?”

  The nun smiled and shook her head.

  Magda had a sudden picture of Tom carrying the bowl of water to Alan. “Eat from their bowls? Drink from their bowls? But what if Tom –?”

  “Stop it,” said Veronica firmly. “We will go straight to see this fellow, then I can tell you more.”

  Alan meekly allowed Veronica to examine his face and limbs. All the company waited anxiously outside the lean-to shelter.

  “Fetch me a needle!” Veronica demanded.

  Marian brought a rusty iron needle from the hut. Veronica cleaned the point and lightly pricked the red patches of skin. The boy did not flinch.

  “Ah,” said Veronica. “Yes. I fear it is leprosy, but the disease is young. There is no contagion as yet from these patches of skin. Tom, you are quite safe.”

  “Thank goodness,” said Marian.

  But Magda was not so easily satisfied. “Did you eat or drink from his bowl?” she cried.

  Tom shook his head.

  Magda’s eyes suddenly filled with tears of relief; she dashed them hurriedly away.

  Veronica took off her cloak and wrapped it around Alan’s shoulders. “With good feeding and care we may hold the sickness back and keep him strong. There is an oil – a precious oil that we used in the lands of Outremer. It came from far away to the east, beyond Jerusalem, but we cannot get it here.”

  “Does it cure?” asked Marian, interested as ever in healing skills.

  Veronica shook her head. “No, but it seemed to help. If he’ll come, I shall take the child back with me to the sisters. We will do all we can for him.”

  Alan looked worried. “Will you come too?” he begged Tom.

  “Of course,” Tom nodded.