The Sorceror's Revenge

by Linda Sole

  ‘I am too old for toys and trinkets,’ the old woman replied sourly. ‘Food and warmth is all I need, mistress.’

  Anne nodded at her and followed Nicholas from the room, looking down at the child skipping happily at her side. Iolanthe had never seen a peddler before, because she had been too young when the last one called, and would no doubt enjoy choosing something from his wares.

  As they entered the courtyard, Anne saw that there were two men displaying wares for the servants. They had opened their packs, spreading an array of goods on sheets of coarse brown cloth laid on the ground. Both were dressed in the short tunics of grey cloth worn by the lower orders, but there was something unusual about them, though at first she could not have said what was different.

  ‘Look, Iolanthe,’ she said, glancing down at the child she loved. ‘I believe you might like to see these…they are exquisite.’

  Lying on the cloth of one peddler were an array of carved figures. Some were formed of polished wood, others appeared to be carved from some soft stone of a greenish colour; still others were made from stitched leather. One of these last was fashioned in the shape of a war-horse with a bridle covered with gold leaf and studded with semi-precious stones.

  ‘This is lovely,’ Anne said and glanced at the peddler. ‘May I show it to my daughter, sir?’

  ‘Surely, mistress,’ the peddler said, giving Anne a strange look that sent a little chill running down her spine. Why did he look at her as if he were trying to tell her something? She did not know him…or did she? The tingling was all over her now and she felt a spasm of something like fear in her stomach. Those eyes were so blue and so compelling. What was he trying to tell her? ‘You may show the child anything you wish.’

  Anne picked up the leather horse and offered it to Iolanthe. The child took it and turned it round in her hand, showing little interest before returning it to her mother. She bent down on her knees and began to pick up the various trinkets one by one until she found something she liked; clasping a tiny bird fashioned of a translucent pink stone, she showed it to Nicholas.

  ‘Iolanthe want this, Papa.’

  ‘Show me, my dearest,’ Nicholas said and bent down to pick her up in his arms. Iolanthe held out the tiny carving, which was a thing of exquisite beauty. He glanced at the peddler. ‘How much do you want for the trinket?’

  ‘It is made of rose quartz and came from the house of a prince from the far east,’ the peddler replied, an angry glint in his eyes. ‘You may buy it for one gold mark today.’

  ‘It is hardly worth so much.’ Nicholas frowned, then glanced at Iolanthe’s face. ‘But my daughter wants it so I shall buy it for her.’ He took a coin from the purse that hung at his waist and handed it to the peddler. Anne had wandered away to look at the other peddler’s wares. She purchased ribbon and thread from his selection with money from her own purse, then returned to Nicholas and her daughter.

  ‘I have all I want,’ she said and smiled as Iolanthe showed her, her treasure. ‘It is beautiful, my love. Papa has spoiled you as always. Come, we shall return to the kitchen and let others choose what they want.’

  ‘There is something the beautiful lady of the manor has not yet seen…’ Anne turned in surprise, looking at the peddler who had spoken. It was unusual for a man of his lowly class to speak unless addressed by his betters, and yet as she gazed into his face something told her he was not what he seemed. From his build and the air of command that seemed to emanate from him she felt he had been a soldier of some standing. She felt the chill spread over her. Something about this man made her very afraid. There was anger in his eyes and haughty pride in his face. Why was he pretending to be a humble peddler? ‘I have a jewel worthy of such a woman if you would care to see it, sir?’

  ‘Show me.’ Nicholas commanded and held out his hand.

  Anne saw the frown on her husband’s face and knew that he did not like this peddler, who seemed arrogant and disrespectful.

  ‘I have all I need, husband. You have spent enough on trinkets for today.’

  ‘I will see this jewel, Anne. If it is truly worthy of you, I may buy it.’

  The peddler took a pouch from inside his jerkin and shook the contents into the palm of his hand. The ruby was mounted in gold and had a deep rich colour, sparkling with fire as the sun’s rays touched it.

  Nicholas picked up the jewel, holding it to the light so that Anne could see how magnificent it was. ‘This is a wonderful thing, my love. Should you not like to own it?’

  ‘I have no use for such things,’ Anne said. The fear was growing inside her, though she did not know why the jewel should have this effect on her. She felt the peddler’s intense gaze on her face and something about him made her want to run away and hide. ‘I shall go in, Nicholas. The meal is almost ready and I would not have it spoil.’

  Nicholas returned the jewel to the peddler. ‘My wife does not wish for your trinket, though it is truly of rare worth.’

  The peddler returned the stone to the pouch, tucking it back inside his jerkin. He turned aside without answering Nicholas and motioned to the other peddler, who immediately bent and gathered up his goods. The two men left, carrying their packs over their backs even though servants had not yet finished making their purchases and protested with disappointment.

  After they had gone, Nicholas ordered the gates locked. Something about the peddler had disturbed him. The man’s wares were of good quality but that jewel was almost beyond price. How could a peddler come by such a precious thing?

  He went into the kitchen. Iolanthe had placed her new trinket on the table and was once again playing with her puppy. He smiled as he watched her, his unease lifting in the comfort and warmth of the familiar surroundings. It seemed that like her mother, his daughter was more interested in living things than precious stones.

  ‘You did not wish for the jewel?’

  Anne turned her head to look at him. She touched the little garnet cross, which hung on the chain Nicholas had bought for her. ‘I have this, which I treasure, as you know – why should I need more?’

  ‘You are so lovely, inwardly as well as your face. It is no wonder that I love you so much, Anne. I think I should not want to live if I lost you.’

  Anne turned to look at him, a question in her eyes.

  ‘Why do you fear it, Nicholas? Surely you know I love you?’

  ‘Yes…’ Nicholas felt the stabbing sensation in his chest. He should tell her now but the fear was so strong it almost choked him. She loved him now but if he told her the truth the love would turn to disgust and hatred.

  4

  Robert felt the rage build inside him as he prepared to return to the Abbey. His ruse had worked even better than he had hoped. Malvern had fetched out both the woman and the child to see the trinkets he had brought for their pleasure. The ruby was Melloria’s own, a gift on their wedding day, which she had sent with other jewels to the Abbey when her women fled the castle, and the other trinkets he had acquired on his travels in Spain and France as gifts for his wife and child. He had given none of them to Rhoda, buying other trinkets to please her and keeping these to one side. Melloria had shown no sign of recognition when he showed her the jewel.

  It was true that she had changed for the white streak in her hair, wisps of which just showed from beneath the wimple she wore on her head, had not been there when he took his last farewell of her. Also, there were changes in her manner. She seemed less fiercely proud than when he knew her, more content and quieter, and he thought she had suffered for her face was thinner, older than he remembered.

  She was still so beautiful that she made him burn with love and desire. It had taken all his restraint not to make a passionate declaration and snatch both her and the child. Had she shown any sign of knowing him, he would have told her who he was but she seemed not to recognise him or the jewel, of which she had been very proud.

  What had happened to change her? Robert pondered the difference in her nature. The Melloria he knew had love
d pretty jewels and rich materials. To see her dressed in a sober fashion unlike her usual habit was something of a shock. Why did she dress in dark blue when she had loved crimson, yellow and gold?

  Had she been afraid to speak out? He thought he had seen a hint of fear in her eyes when she looked at him. The wife he adored would not have looked at him in such a way. That Devil Malvern must have bewitched her. Robert had not thought it possible but now he realised it must be the only explanation.

  ‘Stay here and watch,’ he told the man who had played the part of the other peddler. ‘I need to know when the gates are unlocked – on what days produce is taken into the house and what kind of folk visit there.’

  ‘Yes, my lord. I looked about me and I think we could easily take the manor for it is hardly guarded at all, just a handful of men and none of them wore swords. Malvern is a fool not to take more care for anyone could breach those walls in hours.’

  ‘I shall not make a full attack unless I am forced,’ Robert replied. ‘If we bombard the walls people may be killed – perhaps the child or my wife. We must take them by surprise. I want to snatch Melloria and the child, though we shall kill Malvern. I know not what he spell he hath used to bind her mind but it must be broken.’

  ‘You are certain she is your wife, my lord?’

  ‘I have never been more certain in my life.’ Robert’s eyes suddenly gleamed with triumph. Melloria was alive. She had not known him but she lived and so did his daughter, for the child was clearly hers and of the right age. ‘She has been ill and that is the reason she seems subdued – and perhaps her mind has been deliberately robbed of its memory.’

  Robert felt the grief fester inside him. What had happened to her in the months and years since they had parted. The woman he had seen was Melloria and yet she was not his wife, the woman who had tortured his thoughts for so long. How could she be so changed?

  ‘He hath bewitched her,’ he said, speaking his thoughts aloud. ‘He is an evil sorcerer and he has cast a spell on her.’

  The soldier muttered an oath and crossed himself, looking back at the house with a mixture of superstition and fear.

  ‘I will watch and report to you once I know the pattern of their days,’ the man said. ‘You can rely on me, my lord.’

  ‘I know that Sebastien.’ Robert’s mouth thinned into a grim line. ‘Next time we come, we come in force.’

  5

  Anne sat with her needlework in her lap. Three days had passed since the visit from the peddlers and she was still troubled in her mind. She had been embroidering a cloth for her bedchamber. It was complicated work and the thread was bright, a rich tapestry of red gold and blue not unlike one she had made once before.

  Frowning, she tried to picture the room where the tapestry had covered a board and trestle. She could see articles of gold and silver set out on the cloth, things of value similar to those the peddler had brought with him that day. Trinkets had pleased her once she recalled for she had been pleased with a scent bottle fashioned of gold and set with rubies…not that ruby but others…

  Her mind was surely playing tricks on her, because she could see herself wearing a gown and tunic of cloth of gold and around her neck there was a chain from which was suspended a fine ruby…the ruby the peddler had shown her that day. She was almost certain that she had once owned it – but how could she have done so?

  Anne shivered, feeling ice trickle down her spine. Something was terribly wrong. Why had the peddler looked at her that way? Why did she seem to remember living somewhere else? The rooms were much larger than those here in her present home; they were cold and at times the walls seemed damp. She had covered them with tapestry to make them warmer and brighter, but the castle was old…

  The castle was old!

  Had she lived in a castle before she came here? Anne’s thoughts were swirling in confusion. The feeling that she knew the jewel and the peddler was growing in her mind and the fear was mounting. She had a premonition that something bad was about to happen.

  Looking up as Nicholas entered her chamber, she narrowed her gaze. ‘You must tell me,’ she said. ‘When did we marry – and how did we meet? Did you come to the castle?’

  ‘You have remembered a castle?’

  ‘Yes, I think so, though it is very vague.’ Anne stood up. ‘Please, Nicholas. I am afraid that something is happening – something that may destroy us. You must tell me the truth. I love you and I shall not hate you even though you have not told me all…there is something you are hiding from me, isn’t there?’

  Nicholas looked at her for a long moment, then, ‘I have wronged you by not telling you before, Anne. I was afraid to lose you but now I think I must risk all and tell you. Please do not hate me.’

  ‘I love you, Nicholas. You must know that?’

  ‘I know that I adore both you and the child…’ He looked at her and his eyes were dark with anguish. ‘You came to me one night when the snow was thick on the ground. I found you at my gates and carried you inside. Your time was very near. You gave birth to the first child soon after we put you to bed. Marta took the child to the wet-nurse in the village, because we thought you were dead…but you did not die. There was another child and I had to cut you to get the babe out. I loved Iolanthe from the moment I saw her…’

  ‘Oh, Nicholas…’ Anne stared at him, tears running down her cheeks as the words echoed in her mind. She was not his wife. She was not Nicholas’s wife. The earth seemed to shift beneath her feet and her temples pounded. It was all a lie. All she had trusted and loved seemed to shatter into tiny fragments and become mist. The mist was in her head and she could not think clearly 'I am not your wife. Iolanthe is not your child…but you love her so and she loves you. I am not your wife…’

  ‘You are my wife in all but name. Do not look at me so. It breaks my heart.’

  ‘Why did you never tell me?’

  ‘You were close to death,’ Nicholas went on as if he had not heard her. ‘I fought to save your life, sitting with you day and night until you began to recover. Even then I would not leave you to others. You became the world to me…you and Iolanthe. Without you both I should be nothing.’ His face worked with anguish. ‘Yet I have wronged you for you had the right to know.’

  ‘I could not remember who I was. Even now that you have told me I do not know my name – or the name of Iolanthe’s father…’

  ‘You may be the wife of a man called Robert, Earl Devereaux. He married again within eighteen months of the night you came to me.’

  ‘So he did not love me.’ Anne’s eyes were dark with distress. ‘You have loved me more than any woman deserves to be loved, Nicholas. You are my husband. I feel that I am your wife…I should be your wife.’

  Nicholas moved towards her, gazing down at her face. ‘Can you forgive me for what I have done? Will you stay with me?’

  ‘I…am not sure,’ Anne said. ‘I forgive you, Nicholas, for there is nothing to forgive. Had you not saved my life I should have died out there in the snow. Where was my husband that I was in such a dire position?’

  ‘If I am right he was with Prince Edward, attending a wedding in Spain.’

  ‘He left me at such a time?’ Anne’s expression became angry. ‘If he had cared for me he would have stayed with me. A man who cares more for ambition than his wife is not worthy of a woman’s devotion.’

  ‘Then stay with me…I beg you not to leave me, Anne. I will do anything you ask of me.'

  Anne was silent for a moment, and then she smiled. ‘I do love you, Nicholas, but I am not your wife. We are living in sin. I must discover the truth for perhaps my husband would agree to let me go…there must be some way a marriage can be broken?’

  ‘I do not think it possible. The church could grant an annulment but only if the marriage had not been consecrated. Your husband might agree to a separation but we still could not marry while he lives. I do not think your marriage could be broken unless your husband – were dead.’ He stressed the words, his meaning c
lear. ‘If he were in his grave you would be free to live as you please.’

  Anne shuddered. ‘No, Nicholas. You must not think such things. I love you but I feel that what we have is wrong…I believed you were my husband when I asked you to come to my bed.’

  ‘I should have refused for I knew the truth but I loved you…wanted you.’ Nicholas’s voice broke in anguish. ‘I knew that you would despise me once you knew what I had done.’

  ‘I could never despise you. I do honour, respect and love you. If I were free I would wed you tomorrow – but if we continued as man and wife without at least some kind of blessing from the church…’ Anne shook her head as she saw his face. ‘I do not want to leave you, Nicholas. I shall make no decision now. Let me think about this for a while.’

  ‘Yes, you must think and pray. I have always known you were a good woman, Anne. Yet because of my selfish desires I shamed you.’

  ‘I am not shamed by what we did.’ Anne moved towards him, reaching up to kiss his mouth lightly. ‘But I must think before I decide what to do next.’

  A flame leapt in Nicholas’s eyes. Anne knew he wanted her to promise that she would stay with him, but in all conscience she could not. If she had a husband who still loved her it was only right that he should know he had a child.

  ‘My first child…’ she said belatedly for the revelation that she had two gone from her mind at the shock of learning she was not his wife. ‘Did she die?’

  ‘I do not know.’ Nicholas looked at her sadly. ‘I allowed the woman Marta to take her to the village and she ran away. I have tried to find her and will continue to look for her, Anne – but as yet I have no knowledge of her whereabouts.’

  ‘My poor child.’ Anne made the sign of the cross over her breast. ‘It is a sign that God means to punish me for my sins.’

  It was the child she heard sobbing in the darkness. Her lost babe was weeping and she could do naught to comfort her.

  ‘No, Anne, no,’ Nicholas cried. ‘God does not punish the innocent. You have committed no crime. If you must blame someone blame me. I sent the babe to the wet-nurse because I thought you already dead. Marta stole the child. I do not know why.’