Alys nodded sympathetically. “It is a heavy responsibility for you, Father Stephen,” she said. Her face was turned up to him, her dark eyes guileless. “It would be so wonderful if you could get the young lord released,” she said. “The castle would be a happier place! And Lady Catherine would be spared the pain she suffers now.”
Father Stephen nodded. “Marriage is a sacrament,” he said. “It lasts until God ends it—unless it was invalid from the first. There can be no argument about suiting a man’s or a woman’s whim.”
Alys nodded. “But no one knows what my lady endures,” she said. “Dreadful acts against her. And she so deep in sin that she glories in them like a beast.”
Father Stephen looked appalled. “That should stop,” he said. “Whatever the means, I should stop that. That is mortal sin.
“Here!” he said, breaking off. “You are shivering. Get to your chamber and some dry clothes.”
Alys turned to go.
“Alys,” he said hesitantly. She turned. “Swear that you will never think to kill yourself again,” he said. “It is an awful sin, the most dreadful sin. And it would lead you to a terrible judgment and an eternity in hell. An eternity, Alys. Think of it.”
Alys bowed her head, the sodden purse with the magic dolls safe in her blue hands. “I do think of it, Father,” she said dully. Then she turned and went.
Chapter
12
In the warm chamber the women were still asleep. Alys cast off the cloak and crept naked into bed. She stuffed the sodden purse with the candle dolls beneath her pillow, and pushed her damp hair away from her face. Then she slept and dreamed of the castle as her own, her own ladies calling her Lady Alys, and Hugo’s warm body sleeping beside her. She turned in her sleep and said his name very softly, and smiled. Even when Eliza roughly shook her awake Alys stayed within the joyful confidence of her dream. She smiled at Eliza. He loves me, Alys thought. He loves me and he has promised to find a way for us to be together.
“My lady wants you,” Eliza said dourly. “She’s shouting for you, complaining you’re late. Best make haste.”
Alys shook off her lazy contentment, jumped out of bed, threw on her dark blue gown and stuffed her hair in a dark blue cap, and fled across the gallery to Lady Catherine’s bedroom.
“My lady?” she asked as she opened the door.
Catherine was sitting up in bed, her fine linen shift torn beyond mending at the front, her bedding rumpled.
“Alys,” she said and bared her yellow teeth in a smile. “Alys, I have need of your skills.”
“Of course, Lady Catherine,” Alys said evenly. “What may I do for you?”
“I think I am with child,” Catherine said. She gleamed at Alys. “Hardly surprising, I suppose!”
Alys nodded, saying nothing.
“My lord has been insatiable these last weeks,” Catherine said. She licked her lips like a gourmet savoring a dish. “It seems he cannot leave me alone. And now he has put me with child.”
“I am very happy,” Alys said thinly.
“Are you?” Catherine taunted. “Are you really? I find that surprising, Alys, I thought you hoped for a little of Lord Hugo’s attentions yourself! But he has had eyes for no one but me. Isn’t that true?”
“I know he has been much with you, my lady,” Alys said. She could feel anger rising up in her and the blood drumming softly in her head. “All your ladies have been aware that my lord has visited you often. We are all glad for your happiness.”
Lady Catherine’s laugh rippled out into the chamber. “I’ll warrant,” she said nastily. “And you, Alys? Have you given up all hope of him looking your way?”
“Yes,” Alys lied easily. “I am here to serve the Lord Hugh as his clerk and his herbalist when he needs me. When he has finished with my services I will return to my home. I am a servant to his son, and to you, my lady. Nothing more.”
Catherine nodded. “Yes,” she said, underlining the point. “You are Hugo’s servant. He might use you or throw you aside. It does not matter.”
Alys curtsied in silence.
“He can have you if he wishes,” Catherine said simply. “It does not matter now. I have been jealous of you and I was afraid you would take him from me. But now I am with child no one can take him from me. He can lie with you if he pleases, he can take his pleasure on you or desert you. But I have won him, Alys. Do you understand? He is mine now. I am the mother of his child. And neither the old lord nor Hugo will think of you as anything but a diversion.”
Alys kept her gaze down on the floor. When Catherine fell silent she looked briefly up.
“Do you understand?” Catherine asked.
Alys nodded. She could not speak, she was willing the news to be untrue. She was willing Catherine to be barren, to stay barren. She did not need Catherine to tell her that if Hugo had a legitimate heir, then Catherine had won and Hugo’s soft-voiced promises of last night would be set to one side. And in her head she could hear Morach’s cracked ironic voice warning her against wishes which come true, against magic which works when you have stopped desiring it, against dolls which misunderstand their orders and weave their little spells too well.
“I have need of you,” Lady Catherine said in a different tone. “My own mother is dead as you know, and I have no women friends to advise me. My old wet-nurse died last year and there is no one in the castle who can tell me how to care for myself and the health of the child. Lord Hugh swears you are skilled with herbs, the best healer he has ever known. I expect you to care for my health and advise me. And I will expect you to deliver my child. I want a son, Alys. You will be responsible.”
Alys moved a little closer to the high bed. “My lady, you need a physician and a midwife,” she said. “I have had some experience in childbirth but for your health and the health of an heir you should have a physician.”
Catherine shrugged. “Nearer the time I shall have one attend me,” she said arrogantly. “But in the meantime I shall have your advice and your constant attendance. You have attended births, I suppose? You are skilled?”
Alys shook her head stubbornly. “I am only sixteen,” she said. “My Lord Hugh has been kind enough to trust to my herbs but he had thrown out his medical advisers and would see them no more. It pleased him to use me instead of them. But you have no quarrel with the wise women and midwives around the castle, my lady. You should speak with them.” She did not say that she would rather die than care for Catherine but the dislike between the two women was as tangible as Catherine’s sprawling, half-naked body.
“What about the old woman at Bowes?” Catherine asked, prolonging the discussion for the pleasure of watching Alys’s pale tense face and hearing Alys searching for excuses. “Would she care for me well?”
Alys fell into the trap. “My cousin Morach?” she asked. “Oh yes, indeed. She is skilled. She has attended many births. She could come and see you at once and care for you. She is an excellent midwife.”
Catherine nodded. “I’ll have you both then,” she said in careless triumph. “I’ll send the soldiers to take Morach up. She can live with us here. She can guard my health and you can both serve me. I shall have you wait on me night and day, Alys. And now I want you to look at me and tell me. Am I with child? Is it a boy?”
Alys dipped a curtsy, hiding her anger and her fear, and went to fetch her little bundle from the women’s room.
“What did she want you for?” Eliza demanded as soon as she stepped in the door. “Is she foul today? Hugo stayed with her all night, did he not?”
“I don’t know,” Alys said. “He’s not with her now. She’s full of joy. She thinks she’s with child. I am to confirm it.”
The other women exclaimed, Eliza’s eyes grew round. “At last,” she said. “Hugo’s done his duty at last.”
“Yes,” Alys said dryly. “Praise be. And what an act of love it was!”
“Is it true?” Eliza asked. “She’s had false alarms before. And if ever spite could sto
p a baby settling then she would be the one to do it.”
“I doubt it’s true,” Alys said. “She has every reason to lie. But I’ll tell her ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ And I’ll tell the old lord too. If she is lying, I will tell him at once.”
“Hush!” Ruth said instantly. “Go along, Alys, she’ll be waiting for you. Shall I come too?”
“Yes,” Alys said. “She’s been scratching at me until I am heartsore. Come with me, Ruth, and she’ll mind her tongue.”
“What are you going to do?” Ruth asked curiously as Alys took the prayer-book and the crystal from her bundle.
“I shall see if I can dowse for a baby,” Alys said easily. “Don’t look so amazed, Ruth, it’s a common enough skill.”
She led the way back into Lady Catherine’s room. Catherine was looking at herself in a beaten silver hand-mirror.
“What is this mark on my neck?” she asked Alys.
Alys looked a little closer. “It’s a bruise, my lady,” she said evenly. She could see the marks of teeth. He had bitten her and sucked her. Hugo had done this.
Catherine sighed luxuriously. “How could it have come there?” she asked innocently. “What sort of bruise, Alys?”
“A bite,” Alys said briefly.
“Ohh,” Catherine sighed. “I had forgotten. That was Hugo. He snatches at me and he bites me and sucks me as if he would eat me up. We will have a lion, not a son, Alys! For he mounts me like a lion!”
Alys nodded coolly, but her cheeks were scarlet. Catherine did not miss the signs of jealousy. She rarely missed anything.
“Are you a virgin still, Alys?” she asked. “I could forward the match we spoke of. The young soldier is still willing. I should hate to think of you becoming old and dried-up and unloved. To have a man mad for you is a wonderful thing, Alys. When Hugo comes to my bed I feel as if I am a queen. And when he takes me in his arms and covers my whole body with his kisses! I can’t tell you, Alys, how it feels! It is a pleasure so deep that it feels wicked—like a mortal sin.”
Alys felt her anger rising like vomit in her throat. “You are blessed in your love, my lady,” she said. “Now can you tell me when you last had your times?”
Catherine frowned at the interruption. “Five, no, six weeks ago,” she said.
“Are you at all sick?” Alys asked.
Catherine shook her head.
“Are your breasts tender or enlarged?” Alys asked. She felt her cheeks stinging with heat as she forced herself to speak coolly about Hugo’s lovemaking with his wife—the fat sow, Alys said inwardly.
Catherine laughed. “Of course they are tender!” she said rejoicingly. She opened her shift so Alys could see her. Her large, brown-tipped breasts were marked on both sides with thin red strips, like little lines of blood blisters.
Ruth gasped. “Are you hurt, my lady?” she asked.
Catherine closed her eyes, reveling in the memory. “Oh, he hurt me,” she said, her voice very low. “He bound me, and tied me, and mounted me from behind.”
She opened her eyes; they were dark with remembered desire. “Don’t you wish he would do that to you, Alys?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you love him to cover you? To mount you like a wild stallion on a willing mare?”
Alys cleared her throat. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. “No, my lady,” she said simply. “The ordeal you forced on me has cleared my head as well as my character. I no longer look for the young lord. In any case,” she said icily, “my tastes do not run that way. I should never revel in pain.
“Now, I shall lay my hand on your belly and see if I can dowse for a baby, my lady,” she said. “It is the same as water-divining, many people do it. There is nothing to fear.”
Catherine nodded, irritated at the coolness of Alys’s voice. “I fear nothing,” she said. “No one can hurt me but him.”
Alys took out the prayer-book and muttered a few words of nonsense in Latin. She did not dare to bless the work as she used to do. The memory of the fragile communion wafer which had to be torn into pieces like skin before it could burn was still very bright. She dared not invoke the name of the Lord or His Mother. But she waved the prayer-book around and whispered low so that no one could say later that she had done the work unblessed.
She touched Lady Catherine’s round belly with her icy small hands and noticed with malicious satisfaction how the slack flesh quivered to her touch.
“This woman is with child,” she said aloud. The crystal revolved in a lazy right-hand arc. Alys bit her lip and tasted her own blood, as warm and salty as a tear. Catherine was pregnant.
“What does it say? What does it say?” Catherine asked.
“You may be with child,” Alys said slowly. She longed with all her heart to deny the child. But nothing would stop it growing in Catherine’s fat belly. It could not be wished away.
“Ask if it’s a son!” Catherine demanded.
“The child is male,” Alys said.
The crystal swung again.
Catherine gave a little delighted crow. “Is that yes? Is that yes?” she demanded.
Alys nodded.
“Send for the young lord!” she said to Ruth. “You stay here,” she said to Alys. “He may want you.”
Alys gathered up her crystal and prayer-book and went over to the window. Outside a brisk wind was blowing, bringing snow down from the moor. The little herb and flower garden of the inner manse below was drifting with whiteness, snow swirling between Alys in the second story and the frozen ground below. Out on the moors Morach’s cottage would be white, with great drifts banked up against the door. If it snowed hard and long the soldiers from the castle would not be able to get through. Alys had a great longing to be out there, in the cold and loneliness of the moor. Anything rather than be here, in this little hot room with this spiteful, corrupt woman, and with the man she loved obeying his wife’s bidding.
Hugo walked in without knocking. Catherine did not cover herself. Her shift was open, her breasts splayed wide, her belly showing. The fine linen sheet of the bed only half covered the bush of hair. She looked at Hugo as if she expected him to start lovemaking again, before Alys, before Ruth.
“You sent for me, lady?” he said tersely. He did not look at Alys.
“I have some news for you,” she said. She patted her bed. “Come and sit a little closer.”
Hugo made no move. “Your pardon, madam, but I cannot wait,” he said. “I am riding out hunting today and they are waiting for me. If I delay, the horses will be chilled. There’s a bitter wind.”
“Stay home then,” Catherine said invitingly. She shrugged down a little deeper in the bed. The nipples on her breasts had hardened at the sight of him. Alys found herself staring. “I can find sport to amuse you here,” Catherine suggested.
Hugo nodded. “Tonight, madam,” he said. “I have promised my father venison for his dinner next week. I must hunt it today.”
“I’ll be quick then and tell you our news. I have good news for you. I am with child and Alys here thinks it is a boy.”
There was a stunned silence. Hugo still did not look at Alys.
“That is the best news I could hear,” he said levelly, his voice under tight control. “I congratulate you, madam. I hope we have a healthy son. And now I must go.”
“Where are you riding?” Catherine asked.
“Bowes Moor,” he said from the doorway.
“Oh, stop then!” she said, as if she had just thought of it. “Stop, my lord. Go to Alys’s kinswoman’s cottage and bid her come to the castle. Send one of your men back with her. I need her skill, Alys needs her advice. Isn’t that true, Alys?”
“Morach has greater skill than I,” Alys said. She did not look up from the floor. She knew Hugo was not looking at her. “But you will have no need of her until the birth, my lady, in October. You should summon her then.”
“My lord would want me to take no chances with my health,” Catherine said positively.
Hugo shook his head. “Whatever you w
ish, madam. I can fetch her today. But perhaps she will not be ready to come.”
Catherine opened her pale eyes very wide in surprise. “Then take her, my lord,” she said simply. “If we agree that we need her, what else should we do?”
Hugo bowed. “Very well, my lady,” he said and turned for the door again.
“You have not said good day to Alys,” Catherine said silkily. “She will be indispensable to me now. You must treat her with courtesy, Hugo! Whatever jade’s tricks she may have played in the past, she is my favorite lady-in-waiting now!”
With an effort he turned. He met Alys’s inscrutable blue gaze.
“Of course,” he said coldly. “Forgive me.” The lines at the roots of his brows and the corners of his mouth were deep. “Good day, Alys.”
“Good day, Lord Hugo,” Alys replied. She felt a deep coldness as if the waters of the moat had seeped from her belly through all her limbs. There would be no displacing Catherine now. There would be no annulment of the marriage, there would be no love-making in the big, well-lit chamber. Hugo would never sleep the night in comfort at her side. Catherine had won. And it was Alys’s own magic that had helped her to it.
Hugo met Alys’s eyes in one hard angry look, and then he turned and was out of the door before Lady Catherine could detain him any longer.
“Fetch my rose and cream gown, Alys,” Lady Catherine said contentedly. “He loves me in that color. And call a servant to bring hot water and hot sheets. I will have a bath. He loves me sweet-scented.”
Alys curtsied like a servant and did as she was bid.
Alys was surprised to find that she was eager to see Morach. She waited around the outer gateway for the soldiers who would bring Morach back from Bowes Moor. It was a bitterly cold afternoon, with a sulky half-light of dense grayness. The snow-bearing gray clouds lay belly-down over the gray forbidding walls of the castle. The mist in the moat was white-gray, the slivers of snow whirling constantly in the wind were the only source of light in the world. Alys wrapped her cloak closely around her and held her cold hands up inside her sleeves.
Novels 03 The Wise Woman Page 22