Liberty

by McWatters, Nikki;

  ‘You? You’re doing Law? Like an actual Bachelor of Laws?’ the tall young man said and did nothing to disguise his surprise.

  The looks of disbelief the boys gave me were the same sorts of looks I got back home when I told people I wanted to be a lawyer. I didn’t have any interest in doing a degree that just ended up as sentimental decoration for the wall of my sewing room. And much to my father’s consternation, I didn’t want to marry a lawyer. I wanted to be one.

  ‘That’s so cool.’ Agnes smiled dreamily at me. ‘I’m an Arts student. Theatre major.’

  ‘Yes, I’m doing Law,’ I announced, trying to sound confident and controlled.

  ‘Well, we’re fourth-year Law students,’ the shorter handsome man said. ‘Except Agnes, of course. The actress. Second year.’

  He grinned at her. I cringed.

  ‘I’m hoping to become a barrister someday,’ I told the trio.

  The tall one whistled and arched an eyebrow, high and mischievous, looking me up and down, taking in my matronly outfit. ‘Really, honey? I just can’t see you as a barrister or even any kind of lawyer. No offence but …’

  I couldn’t help myself. ‘That’s funny,’ I said caustically. ‘Because I can’t see you as one either.’

  I glared at him as Agnes took my elbow and led me away, frowning back at the men.

  ‘Ha ha. That was perfect.’ Agnes whistled and laughed as we crossed a grassy lawn, bordered by low shrubs. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Fiona,’ I told her. ‘I’ve just moved here from the Darling Downs.’

  ‘Well, Fiona from the Darling Downs.’ She laughed again. ‘You just served it up to the leader of the Student Alliance. The top final-year Law student who has done the degree in record time and is already being head-hunted by big firms in Sydney. He’s like the king of the campus.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ I felt embarrassed and remorseful in equal measure.

  ‘No, no!’ she whispered, holding my arm tighter. ‘Barton McLeod needs to be knocked down a peg or two and coming from you … golly, it’s priceless.’

  It was a back-handed compliment but I took it anyway. As we crossed the quadrangle toward the austere sandstone building another hairy man thrust a pamphlet into my hand. ‘Make love not war.’ He grinned. He was part of the gaggle of people with placards and leaflets.

  ‘Come on,’ Agnes said, dragging me along.

  ‘Who are they?’ I asked.

  ‘Just our friendly resident activists. Anti-Vietnam. Pro-feminism. Socialists. Communists. Stuff like that. You’ll find out more about all that later.’

  I stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Socialists? Communists? My father had warned me about them. ‘Keep away from that mob, Fi,’ he had said as I kissed him goodbye outside the boarding house. ‘Those red devils are out to destroy the very fabric of Australian society. Bloody commies. Hippies.’

  Communists. Hippies. Beatniks. University had it all and I was beginning to tingle with the thrill of being among it. Agnes pointed me to a wide staircase inside the large sandstone building.

  ‘Upstairs, in there and right. There will be a sign outside the lecture hall. I’m on the other side of the quad. Good luck. I’ll meet you afterwards, under that tree over there, if you like. Say twelve o’clock. For lunch? Two redheads, hey? We’ll make a formidable duo.’

  ‘That would be great.’ I nodded. I liked the sound of ‘formidable duo’.

  She waved goodbye and disappeared into the crush. As I trudged up the stairs with a sea of strangers, I made a mental note that I would pack away the plaid skirt and the patent shoes first thing that afternoon. The stockings would go in the bin. I decided right there that I would leave the red dust of Bandaroo Flats behind and become Fi, the uni girl. I was going to reinvent myself. It seemed, in some funny weird little way, like I’d joined the human race for the very first time after living in a dirt-blustered wilderness. I was a part of something big and exciting and it sent a shiver of thrill through my blood. The smell of promise filled the huge halls and the excitement and enthusiasm was palpable. Part of me felt like I was dreaming because I’d wanted this for so long and it had always felt so impossible and so far away.

  I didn’t have much money. Dad had fumbled a wad of cash into my hand as he’d hugged me tight, saying goodbye in a voice that told me he was trying hard not to cry. I would buy myself some new clothes. Maybe some blue jeans. And sandals.

  The streets and alleys leading to the market were a cobble-pot of shops. I passed smiths, weavers, butchers, bakers, a cloth merchant and someone selling cosmetics. The Beauvais marketplace was a festival of colour, scents and noise. A riot of wares were displayed from many stalls. Salted meats, lampreys and herrings. Woad, wine and sacks of wool. Almost anything you could imagine was there for the buying. I smiled at a furrier and let my hand float over his selection of furs. I could only dream of trimming my garments with such finery. It was only the very well-to-do who were allowed such extravagance.

  The marketplace was also a place of great swindles and buyers had to be wary of unscrupulous sellers. Some bakers added stones to their loaves to make them up to the legal weight and more than once I’d been tricked into purchasing damp peppers or a sack of oats that had fresh ones at the top but was filled to the bottom with rotten ones.

  I looked at all these people pushing and haggling and felt sad because not one of them knew that it was very possible that a hostile army was marching our way. I was seeking Colin and it did not take me long to find him. He was standing behind a tower of chicken cages.

  ‘Colin,’ I called as I approached, although he didn’t hear me over the cackle and squawk of chicken gossip.

  When he saw me, his face brightened. Colin Pilon was not wearing his coat and the wide sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up above his suntanned forearms. His fair hair was damp with sweat.

  ‘Jeanne.’ He grinned and shouted over the din, ‘The hens are selling well today.’

  My face must have displayed my inner fear, for his smile fell flat.

  ‘What is it, Jeanne?’ he said. ‘What’s the matter? You look as pale as a sheet.’

  I looked around furtively. I would risk a flogging if my bad news got out into the streets. Pushing up close enough to Colin so that I could smell the scent of his perspiration, which reminded me of overripe apples, I took his hands in mine.

  ‘Charles the Bold has sacked Roye, leaving many casualties,’ I said quietly. ‘There is talk that he and his men may be marching for Beauvais.’

  Colin raised his eyebrows and let out a whistle.

  ‘That is not good to hear,’ he said grimly. ‘All our men are away fighting with the King. How on earth did you come by this news, Jeanne?’

  ‘I was in the forest this morning and …’ I tried to ignore his look of concern, ‘and I came across an injured soldier from Roye …’

  ‘I don’t like you walking alone in the woods, Jeanne,’ he scolded. ‘You tempt fate. What with your mother—’

  My frown and pursed lips told him that I wanted no more talk of my mother.

  ‘Well, it’s just as well I did go into the forest because had this man died in the woods, we might not have news that Charles the Bold is headed our way with his army.’

  ‘Yes. That is some troubling news, Jeanne,’ he whispered, his eyes widening. ‘So Roye is sacked.’

  ‘Not only sacked,’ I told him. ‘But sacked after surrender.’

  ‘There’s the slight chance they might just bypass us on their way to Paris,’ Colin said, before he was interrupted by a person asking for a cage-full of the big reds.

  ‘Hush,’ I cautioned, but there was little danger that the swarthy man holding his coins out could have heard our talk over the squabbling hens.

  We stood together without speaking, letting the sounds of the marketplace wash over us, both lost in thought. Colin liv
ed with his sickly mother in one of the outer suburbs of Beauvais, nestled down by the river, well outside the city walls. There was no protection if the soldiers were marching our way; the outer districts would need to evacuate their homes and shelter within the city gates.

  ‘Captain Balagny is thinking of leaving the town,’ I said.

  ‘It might save some bloodshed but this is a proud city with strong allegiance to the King. If we send for reinforcements, perhaps …’

  ‘But they could be here within the week, Colin.’ The idea of violent Burgundians raiding my beloved city made me feel ill.

  ‘And Colin, I was ordered to speak of this to no one so you cannot tell a soul, not even your mother,’ I added. ‘I do not want to end up in the pillory again.’

  My thoughts cast back to my recent public scolding, punished for wearing my mother’s red velvet cloak. It was the cloak she’d worn when she’d run away to marry my father, her bridal dress hidden beneath it. Some weeks ago, I’d worn it into the woods and had forgotten to take it off upon my return to the city. I’d spent half a day with my head and hands locked in place while townsfolk jeered and told me that I was lucky the Captain hadn’t flogged me. Someone threw vegetable peelings at me and the general consensus was that I was a wanton girl for daring to wear a cloak above my station. Me! Pauper Jeanne, the daughter of Matthew the Coward!

  ‘Well, leaking this information about the Burgundians might get you more than the pillory, my darling girl. And it was foolish of you to wear that coat. I hope you’ve put it away, along with all thoughts of wearing it in public again.’

  ‘I wear it at home sometimes,’ I said, trying not to cry. ‘I imagine it still smells like my mother.’

  Colin held my hand and moved a strand of my dark hair, tucking it back into my bonnet.

  I wanted to hold him and sob into his broad, warm chest.

  ‘Your mother surely watches over you, Jeanne, and is pleased at the young woman you have turned out to be. I hope she thinks of me kindly as well.’

  ‘I’m sure she would love you, Colin, as much as …’ I stifled the rest of my thought and coughed into my hand as Colin turned away.

  ‘Take a chicken,’ he said, picking up a sack. ‘For your supper tonight.’

  I blushed. I did not want Colin’s charity but I had nothing on me to offer to him in exchange. Only two small hatchets. Neither of which I could spare.

  ‘Cook up a feast for your father,’ he smiled and after looking around to make sure no one was looking at us, he leaned forward and planted a small kiss on my forehead at the edge of my bonnet. ‘Tell him it’s from me.’

  ‘Thank you, Colin.’

  I watched as he put a large hen in a sack and tied it with string, frowning as he did so. He looked at me, his pale grey eyes flecked with concern.

  ‘I am worried about this news of Charles the Bold,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you should take my horse and cart and ride south, away from danger. Your safety is my first priority.’

  ‘I’m not leaving my father or Beauvais,’ I argued. ‘Or you.’

  Colin sighed, looking skyward. ‘We need to be prepared. Balagny will not tell us anything more. Not us and not the town. By the time he announces anything it will be too late for us to make plans.’ He fell silent. I could almost see the jumble of thoughts in his thoughtful eyes.

  ‘With all the fighting men gone we stand no chance against such a huge army,’ I whispered. ‘But perhaps the wounded soldier may have been delusional. Maybe we are not on Charles the Bold’s path to Paris.’

  ‘I won’t have you stay here in danger,’ Colin stated firmly.

  I looked into his face and saw the desperation. He loved me, I was sure of that. But I would not leave my father. He was frail and had no one else in the world to care for him.

  ‘I’m not leaving Beauvais,’ I said. ‘If Beauvais falls I will fall with her. I refuse to step outside the walls of my home city to—’

  ‘That’s amusing coming from a girl who wanders by herself in the forest and I don’t think …’ He began to speak, to argue against me but then he thought better of it and let the words fall away. I had a strong will and would not be dissuaded. Colin often told me it was a good thing, as opposed to most others who thought a strong-willed woman was worse than a stubborn donkey. But there was no way I would let him send me alone to safety down south. I did not want to leave my father but most of all I could not bear the thought of Colin being in danger, because his safety was my first priority.

  ‘If we surrender then perhaps Charles the Bold will be happy to leave his Burgundian flags on the city walls and accept our allegiance and move on without harming us.’

  I shook my head at him and scuffed my boots on the stones. The chicken burbled from the sack at my side.

  ‘We have all heard told how cruel the Bold is,’ I said softly, feeling a rise of bitter apprehension in my belly. ‘If he comes here he will leave a mess. Our loyalty to Louis will be punished and he will fill our streets with terror.’

  ‘Don’t speak such things,’ Colin said breathlessly. ‘I want you in my life forever, Jeanne. You mean everything to me. The thought of something happening to you …’

  He leaned forward and kissed me deeply, gripping my wrist. I pulled away and looked nervously about, feeling myself blush. No one was looking, all too busy haggling for the best bargain. He said the word ‘forever’ and my face warmed and my stomach rolled over. I meant to marry Colin and that day could not come soon enough. Although he’d not said the words yet, I knew he was of a similar mind. I wondered if he would ask me or even make the suggestion right in those tense moments. I loved him and wanted us to raise chickens and children and grow to become stooped old people together. But his face glowered with the fear of what might be marching toward us. I let my romantic notions flutter away.

  ‘If we are to be raided I will bring my mother up to stay with my sister in the merchant quarter, if her toff of a husband will allow it.’

  Colin was a simple farmer, with a small leasehold of land and a crowded clutch of chickens. He was a peasant through and through but his sister had married up and rarely spoke to her family anymore. I had seen her at church some weeks prior but she had looked the other way when I waved at her. It saddened me as we had once been on very good terms. Colin and I had been inseparable friends since we could walk. I knew that his sister’s disdain of her past hurt Colin deeply.

  ‘Our city is well fortified,’ he went on, almost as if he was talking to himself. ‘If we draw up the bridge and close and strengthen all the gates then they would have a hard time getting in.’

  Colin pointed toward the distant high city walls and parapets.

  ‘Yes, but we have no weaponry, Colin,’ I said, shaking my head as I put the sack of chicken over my shoulder.

  ‘All the townsfolk will join arms and use what we can. I will fight beside them.’

  ‘But so many menfolk are away,’ I worried out loud. ‘We are a town of women, children and lame old men.’

  ‘Thanks so much!’ Colin laughed. ‘And well-muscled, handsome poultry farmers. Don’t forget them!’

  I gave him a brazen wink. ‘Never.’

  ‘It will be all right, Jeanne,’ he said sombrely. ‘Thank you for trusting me with this information.’

  ‘I trust no one more than you, Colin.’ I smiled.

  ‘I love you, Jeanne. We must be careful. If we discover that the Burgundian army is coming this way, perhaps we will find a way to stay safe. I will protect you to my last breath because you are my everything.’

  ‘And you mine,’ I smiled shyly.

  Colin pulled me by the elbows between two towers of chicken cages and kissed me again. All the blood rushed to my head and I felt giddy.

  I kept chanting the word ‘love’ under my breath, grinning like a sun-dazed lizard as I walked home. We were warming up, Colin a
nd I, and the furnace in my chest was stoked and ablaze.

  Our narrow house sat wedged next door to the tanner, whose carcasses and hides sent their gruesome stenches all the way down the street. I stepped over a muddy puddle and wiped my boots on the doormat before going inside. I had decided to keep the chicken alive. She was worth more to us in eggs than a meal of meat, although the thought of a roasted chicken made my mouth water.

  ‘Papa,’ I announced, still stomping my threadbare boots.

  I took in a sharp breath of surprise. Lieutenant Jean Lagoy was sitting in the chair across from my father.

  ‘What the devil?’ I stammered, putting the sack containing the struggling chicken on the floor.

  The man stood up and nodded to me, dragging a hand through his dark hair.

  ‘Ah, Jeanne, there you are,’ he said, crossing the room and taking my hands in his mauling paws for the second time that day. ‘I’ve just been telling your father how very brave you were today, bringing the soldier and his message to us.’

  I looked at my father, sure that he would be very angry to learn that I had been wandering alone in the woods, but he did not look up to meet my gaze.

  ‘Tell your daughter the good news, Matthew.’

  ‘News?’ I asked. ‘Have the Burgundians passed us by? Are we safe?’

  Lagoy laughed and the sound grated on my nerves. Deep, loud and haughty. ‘No Jeanne,’ he said. ‘I have received permission from Captain Balagny and it is all arranged. Isn’t it, Matthew?’

  ‘Arranged? What’s arranged?’ I asked.

  My father looked up at me, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. ‘Jeanne, ma chérie,’ he said, unable to stand on his weakened legs. ‘Lieutenant Lagoy has received official permission. It’s all settled. You are to be married.’ My father looked away from my gaze.

  ‘To you?’ I said in horror, looking at the Lieutenant as he grinned broadly.

  ‘Yes, Jeanne,’ he smiled. ‘You are to be my wife.’

  In that instant, the threat of the approaching bloodthirsty army of Charles the Bold lost its terror. I was facing a much greater threat. I wrenched my hands away from his and planted them on my hips.