Alis (5 page)

Even as she spoke, Alis knew this was not true. She would have done almost anything to escape. And now that she had seen what a husband might do, she was even more determined.

Luke was watching her curiously. It made her feel uncomfortable, as if he might read her secret in her face if she did not divert his attention, so she asked, “What did you mean by saying you thought I was of your ‘persuasion’? Surely we are all People of the Book. Those who are not live without the protection of the Maker and at the mercy of the darkness, do they not?”

He nodded. “Yes, of course, except that my grandparents think—and I think, too—that Master Robert, our Senior Elder, and Thomas, and others like them, have come under the sway of darkness, though they think themselves purest followers of the Book.”

It was clear to him that Alis did not understand, so he said, “In your Community would a man have been punished in the way that you have seen?”

Alis shook her head. “We have no whipping post.”

Luke whistled in surprise at this.

“Well, we have always been stricter than that, but public whippings have been rare, and never so severe. It is a sign, my grandmother says, of what is to come. My grandfather is the Minister but his power is gone. And though the people love him, they are afraid. The Elders are determined to see that people keep to the rules of the Book more strictly. They come into the houses to inspect and investigate. They question the children. And those who are found to be at fault are punished with fines and the threat of worse if they do not mend their ways.”

Alis was puzzled. “But the Elders have always had such powers, have they not? In our Community, my mother, who is Senior Elder, goes into the houses and asks questions if there is trouble or sin to be sought out, and the Minister or another Elder goes with her.”

He nodded. “And what if the person questioned wishes for witnesses? What happens then?”

“Then they can ask to be questioned before all the Elders or even before the whole Community, so that all can see what is done and there can be no falsehoods.”

For the Book said:
There is no justice behind a closed door. Let sinner and judge come to the meeting place and justice shall be done.

Different Communities had different ways of interpreting this injunction, but they all had some such arrangement as Alis had described.

Luke said heavily, “Here we do things differently now. The word of one Elder is enough to get a man or woman punished even to whipping. And he does not have to visit or question, though he must give reason.”

“But”—Alis was shocked—“that is not what the Book says. How can they punish the people for breaking the rules when they are doing it themselves?”

“They say that judge and sinner meet at the prayer house when judgment is given, and punishment is public, so the rule is kept and justice is done.”

She was silent. Then a name came into her head. “What did Judith mean about Tobias?”

He came to sit opposite her and did not answer at once. The wood shifted in the stove and settled with a soft sound. At length he broke his silence.

“You know that if parents cannot govern their children’s conduct, or do not keep a fit household for them to grow up in, the Elders may take the children away and place them with those who will nurture them in virtue.” Alis nodded and he went on. “Well, our Elders—in their wisdom—have decreed something called ‘particular discipline.’ Any boy or girl who is thought especially bad or troublesome is placed in the house of a wardmaster or wardmistress chosen for their strictness. Your Thomas would be one but it is thought, so my grandmother says, that his wife is not fit. It makes him very angry, too.”

Alis shuddered. Was there nothing for which Thomas did not blame Sarah?

“And Tobias?”

For a long moment he sat staring down at his hands. At last he said, “Tobias was my friend.” He stopped and swallowed, then went on. “We never liked restraint, though I do not think we did anything wicked. We climbed out at night sometimes, and took horses to go riding in the dark. Or we missed the prayer meeting and went exploring out in the woods to the south, beyond the edge of the settlement. We laughed too much and prayed too little, I suppose. And we did not fear a beating.”

He stopped again. There was a brooding look on his face.

“Then Tobias was smitten with love for Miriam, the daughter of Master Robert, our Senior Elder. We talked often of whether he might consent to their marriage, but we feared that he was too proud to accept the son of a poor widow, so Tobias and Miriam met in secret for a while. And then—I do not know how—they were found out.”

Alis waited for him to go on but he seemed lost in his thoughts. Softly she asked, “What happened?”

“Miriam was sent away north to her grandmother. But they took Tobias from his mother and made him a ward. The man who has charge of him is an expert in particular discipline, they say. Tobias came one night and threw stones at my window. He would not stand for any more bullying and beating, he said. He was running away and wanted me to go with him, but I would not leave my grandparents, though I longed to go. The Elders sent after him and he was brought back.” There was a long silence. Then Luke said bitterly, “I do not know what they did to him. We see little of him these days. When he comes to the prayer meeting, he does not meet my eye, and he flinches if his ward master says his name. If he speaks at all, it is in a whisper; he looks at his master and cringes like a beaten dog.”

Alis was appalled. “Are you not afraid that the same will happen to you, as Judith fears?”

“I do not think they dare, not yet anyway. But she is right. It may come. But I am not afraid. Whatever they did to me, I would never let them defeat me.”

He spoke proudly and his fearlessness cheered her. She had found kindness and courage in the same household in spite of the cruelty that was all around. She thought of Tobias. Like her, he had run away.

“Luke, where did Tobias mean to go?”

He looked at her as if he were not sure whether to trust her, but something in her demeanor must have decided him for he said simply, “To the city. Until he thought to marry Miriam, he had always wanted to go there. We had talked of it often.”

“Oh!” Alis could not suppress a cry.

Luke said anxiously, “You will not tell anyone that I said so. Judith is right. I must not draw the attention of the Elders and bring trouble on us all.”

Alis shook her head vehemently. “I will tell no one, I swear by the Maker. Only, Luke, you must tell me how to get there, to the city.”

He stared at her. “You? Why would you want to go to the city? It is no place for a girl like you.”

There were sounds of movement and voices beyond the kitchen door. Desperately, for she feared missing her chance, she grabbed his hand.

“You
must
tell me, Luke. Promise me that you will. I have good reason, I assure you. I will explain. Now promise.”

He looked at her in amazement. She was gripping his hand so hard that it hurt.

She said again, urgently, “Promise!”

Her eyes were blazing and her cheeks were flushed. He could not refuse. Wonderingly, his hand still in hers, he said, “I promise.”

At that moment the kitchen door opened and Mistress Elizabeth appeared.

“Ah, Luke, good. You are still here. You must help me bring him in and then take your grandfather’s mare and ride out to Woodland Farm. Ask Mistress Ellen to come here. Say that I need her. Tell her to bring leaves of self-heal, as many as she can, freshly picked. And Judith”—for the old woman had come clucking into the kitchen—

“put on pans to heat water, large ones. We must boil cloths to cleanse his back.”

Luke said, “What is happening? Why . . . ?”

His grandmother was opening cupboards and taking out jars of ointment. “The Healers will not take the man. They say they have no authority from the Elders to treat him. I have had him brought here. He is likely to die if someone does not tend to him. And Luke, before you go, see that there is enough wood for the stove.”

Her eye fell on Alis. “Alis dear, you must go back to Mistress Sarah’s now. I have seen Master Thomas and explained; you have nothing to fear.” And having dismissed Alis, she turned to the business in hand.

“Judith, we must put the man in the back bedchamber. Ellen and I can tend him, and you will have to take your turn, too. We must manage the days and nights between us, for he must not be left. If the Healers will not help, I doubt we shall find anyone else with the courage.”

Alis took a deep breath.

“Mistress Elizabeth, may I not assist you? I have helped my mother with the sick, and I would repay your kindness if I can.”

The Minister’s wife hesitated. Then she shook her head.

“It is good of you, Alis, but the man is in a dreadful state. I doubt but you would turn giddy to see him and it is strong help that I must have.”

Alis said quietly, “I will not turn giddy, Mistress Elizabeth. I am strengthened now, and surely the Maker has put me in your way to serve this need.”

The older woman put down the jar she was holding and looked at Alis steadily.

“Now, Alis, if you can give your aid, we surely need you. But you must be certain. For if you faint and cry and I must tend to you, you will be a sore trouble and we have trouble enough. And remember this: the man may die when you alone are with him. Are you prepared for that?”

Alis nodded. Elizabeth’s forehead creased in a troubled frown. “Master Thomas will not like it. He has been a prime mover in this terrible matter, and you are a guest in his house, also. I wish I might consult with your parents but that is impossible.”

Alis said hurriedly, “My parents would feel as you do, Mistress Elizabeth. They would think it only right that I should help to care for the poor victim.”

There were more sounds—of wood scraping on stone, and a man’s voice saying “Hold steady, now.” Mistress Elizabeth made up her mind. “Very well. I will speak to Master Thomas myself, to ask his permission. I do not think he will refuse.”

Alis let out the breath she had been holding. The Maker be thanked! She could stay near Luke, who had promised to tell her what she needed to know. But it was more than that: she longed to serve this woman who had reached out to her in kindness in her terror, and there was the man, too. She was ashamed that she had borne witness in silence, and ashamed, too, that she had not endured to the end. This time she would not run away.

A
man appeared in the kitchen doorway, an old man in farm clothes, rough-shaven, with a weather-beaten face and bright blue eyes.

“He be set down in the upper passageway, Mistress Elizabeth. Hurdle won’t go through chamber door I reckon. Shall us lift him?”

The Minister’s wife shook her head. “Bide a moment, Matthew, and I will come. We must move him carefully, for he bleeds.” And turning to Alis: “I shall need you in a moment, my dear, and it is a grim sight. Be prepared now and do not fail me.”

Alis heard her go up the stairs and then her voice saying, “Now Matthew, you and James must lift him, one at each end. Keep him facedown. Luke and I will link hands underneath him so that his back does not bend. Gently now . . .” Her voice faded. They had passed into the bedchamber. Alis could hear their steps upon the floor of the room above her head. In a few moments there were feet upon the stairs and the man Matthew appeared again at the kitchen door.

“If you be Alis, you be wanted above.” He jerked his head toward the ceiling.

Her heart beating at the thought of what she would see, she mounted the narrow stairs. Even before she went into the room she could smell the injured man—a chamber-pot foulness that caught in the throat and made her want to retch. He had loosed his bowels in his agony. She held herself stiffly and entered. She caught only a glimpse of the man, his back a mass of red and black, before the Minister’s wife spoke.

“Alis, go down and bring back the large bucket—Judith will show you where it is. We must get these soiled breeches off him and you must give them to her to be taken tomorrow to the wash house, for they cannot be done at home. And then we will need clean cloths to bathe him and the green ointment—it is on the side table—though I do not think we will be able to use it. Ellen will judge. But wash your hands well before you touch the cloths. Hurry now.”

Alis did as she was bid, glad of what her mother had made her do in tending the sick. Judith threw up her hands in horror when she knew what the bucket was for, but she fetched it from the scullery and took it without a word when Alis returned.

Luke had disappeared, and now Alis must make good her offer: there was the foulness to wash away, and then they must bathe the flayed back in preparation for laying on the leaves that Mistress Ellen was to bring. Alis went up and down, taking basins of water—hot first for the simple washing, and then cool for the poor, raw flesh. In the kitchen and scullery, Judith could scarcely keep pace with their need. No sooner was one basin of clean water ready than it came back stained, and fresh was needed.

At first the man did not stir, but when they began on his back he groaned piteously, turning his head this way and that, whimpering like an injured animal. There was no skin at all on his back and shoulders where the whip had fallen so cruelly. In some places, thick blood had dried purple or black, but at the least movement, the crusts broke and the fresh red oozed up again. The flesh was gouged, too, as if the embedded points had fallen repeatedly in the same places, and these places bled worse than the rest. Ribbons of skin, ripped loose but not torn away, marked the edges of the great wound. Alis kept her thoughts still, concentrating on what must be done. She did not ask yet what kind of Maker it was in whose world such things were done, and in his name, too.

At length Mistress Ellen arrived. Seeing the man from the doorway, she stopped abruptly and her hand flew to her mouth. “The Maker preserve us! What have they done? I did not dream . . .”