by Max Gilbert
'No sign of him, nor the men that fled with him.'
'How long can you stay with us, Brother?'
'Until Friday. I've arranged to join a company of merchants and pilgrims as far as Durham. I'm to frighten away any robbers!' 'They'll run a mile soon as look at you,' said Straccan.
'How did you get on with the king?' Miles pulled on the tunic and hose and put on the house-robe.
'Very well.' Straccan laughed. 'He gave me a horse and helped himself to the icon.'
'Ah.'
Straccan handed him a towel to rub his hair. There was a soft knock at the door and Gilla put her head round. 'Father? May I speak to Sir Miles?'
'Come, pigeon.'
She smiled happily. 'Sir Miles, you'll be going to the place where Hob is, won't you?'
'To Coldinghame. Yes.'
'Will you take a message from me?'
'Gladly.'
'Just say that I send my love to him always.'
When she left, Miles said, 'How is it with her?'
Straccan frowned. 'Mercifully, she seems to remember little. But she said a strange thing. She said she saw her mother; that Marian was there, and took care of her.'
Between Wednesday and Friday Straccan was never able to find Janiva alone. Sometimes she was with Gilla—he was overjoyed by the love that had sprung up between them—or they were both with Miles, or she was in the kitchen exchanging recipes with Adeliza, or they were riding or playing Hoodman Blind, or Janiva was teaching Gilla a new dance, or Miles was entertaining everyone with an astonishing repertoire of ballads. Still, there would be time later to talk. And before long, they would be married.
When Miles left, all the household turned out to see him off. Gilla hugged and kissed him and cried.
'I'm not going away for ever, sweet,' he said. Til come back and see you again.'
'Promise?'
'Of course I promise. Nothing can stop me. Besides, Adeliza makes the best ale in all England. But where's Mistress Janiva this morning? I hoped she'd wish me God speed.'
'I don't know,' Gilla said. 'She was up before me. Yesterday she said something about the herbs in the water-meadow. Perhaps she's gone there.'
'See if you can find her, poppet,' said Straccan. 'She'll be sorry to miss Miles leaving.'
But Janiva was nowhere about, and at last they waved Miles off. Gilla ran up the tower steps, to watch him until he disappeared in the distance. She leaned her head against Straccan's hip. 'I hate goodbyes.'
'Well, honey, if there were no goodbyes there would be no happy returns, now would there?' He swung her up and carried her, laughing, down the steps.
Somehow the place didn't feel quite the same, as if it missed the young knight with his singing and laughter. If places could miss people, Straccan thought, Stirrup was missing someone. He began to feel uneasy. She'd not have forgotten Miles's departure. Perhaps she had hurt herself in the water-meadow. It was a long way from the house. The certainty of something wrong grew fast.
'Adeliza, did Mistress Janiva say where she was going?'
'I haven't seen her this morning, Sir.'
'She said something about picking herbs in the water-meadow.'
'Oh no, I don't think so. She hasn't taken the basket or the shears. She always takes them when she's--'
He went up the stairs to the bedchamber three at a time. The bed she'd shared with Gilla was tidy and smooth. The pegs where her mantle and travelling cloak had hung were bare. The leather satchel she'd brought with her, which had been at the foot of the bed, was not there now.
He made for the stable at a run. Her palfrey was gone.
He flung a saddle on Zingiber and spurred out of the gate. North, she'd have to go north; she could only be going home, but why? Why run away? He wanted to marry her, wanted her here, safe with himself and Gilla. Here to say goodbye to when he went away, to be waiting when he came back. At his table. In his bed. His wife.
She had only gone half a league when he came up with her. Hearing hoofs, she looked back and saw him, and stopped. When he reached her he saw tears on her face and lashes. He dismounted and lifted her down. He could feel her trembling.
'Why?' he said. 'Why run away from me?'
'Richard--'
'I want you to stay. We'll be married.'
'No!' she cried. 'That's why I left. You're right, I ran away, and I'm sorry, but I knew you would ask me. We can't marry, Richard!'
'Why not?'
'It wouldn't work.' She turned her face away, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.
'Why not? What's wrong? I know you love me.'
'That's got nothing to do with it.'
'Then explain it to me!'
She sighed. 'You are a knight,' she said. 'My mother was villein. Knights don't marry freedwomen.'
'More fool them,' said Straccan. 'Knights can bloody well please themselves! I don't believe that's all that's worrying you.'
'No. Richard, it would do you no good—it could do you much harm—to have people say your wife is a witch.'
'A witch?'
She stared at his stunned face and laughed. 'Oh, Richard, didn't you realise? That's what they call women like me.'
'No, he protested. 'A witch? Julitta is a witch, not you!'
'Yes, me! She chose a dark path, because it promised to lead her to power. But to begin with we would have been much alike. She hurts, I heal. I love, she hates. Two faces of one coin, Richard, but both are called witch.'
He said nothing but stared at the trees and the sky, unseeing, trying to find the right words to shake her argument. After a while she walked away from him and sat on the grass under an oak tree. She had not mentioned the strange experience by the stream and the unease that had troubled her ever since. She would not involve him, or Gilla, in that. It was for her to deal with. Her palfrey whickered softly. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the warm rough trunk. The sun shone on her face, and then his shadow darkened her closed eyelids.
'It doesn't make any difference,' he said.
'Richard--'
'No, listen. Freedwoman, witch, whatever you are, I want to marry you. Because I love you, Janiva. Understand? If you want to go home now I'll take you, but I'll keep coming back until you see sense.'
'See it your way, you mean,' she said, but he had turned to catch Zingiber's reins and didn't hear her.
He'd take her home. She needed time to think about it. When she'd thought about it, she'd see she was wrong. She loved him. He knew she did. He'd bring her round.