Joanna (72 page)

The young men of Roselynde town who could fight must be warned to be ready to come up to the keep with the valuables of the town; the women and children and oldsters must have carts ready and be prepared to flee to the woods. Doubtless spring came to England sometime in late March or early April. Joanna did not see it. She rode and counted stores and added up figures until she could not see, and then she slept. Over all she did, however, was a black pall of doubt and fear. Where was Geoffrey? If he had held so great an anger against her all these monthssince early Novemberwas it possible she would ever redeem herself in his eyes? Worse yet, had his knowledge of his own weakness ended by killing his soul so that, even though the body walked and talked, Geoffrey was a dead man?

All was ready in Roselynde. Joanna waited only for Alinor’s coming, which she expected that day or the next. Then she would leave for Mersea on the excuse that Sir John was by no means convinced that Louis would be a worse king than John. Actually, she did not think she could endure to stay and see the love between her mother and Ian. For want of something better to do at the moment, Joanna was going over the clothing she would take to Mersea. She had found that she dared not sit down to sew or embroider. A task must have something to it that would fix the mind, like counting.

“Lady!”

She looked up at the manservant who had interrupted her and made her lose count. Harsh words rose to her lipsthey   did so too frequently these daysand then she saw the man was all excited.

“What is it?”

“Lord Geoffrey and Master Adam are here. They”

Joanna leapt to her feet and ran toward the stairs. Before she started down them, she froze. If Geoffrey was still angry, she did not want all the outdoor people to see. She drew back and drew back again until she was in the area by the great hearth reserved for the family. No servant would come near unless called. She stood there, trembling, looking at the entry from the stairwell, then tearing her eyes away and fastening them on her hands. She heard them. Her breath stopped. With her last bit of will, she kept her eyes down, fighting tears.

A heavy tread. That did not sound like Adam, who for all his bulk had a light, lively walk, and it could not be Geoffrey’s uneven gait. Who? Her eyes flew up. Breath rattled in her throat as she gasped. Adam? Long step, short stepJoanna’s eyes retreated from shock only to find horror. Her heart froze. Surely, although he was walking, Geoffrey’s face was that of a dead man.

“What has befallen us?” Joanna cried.

Geoffrey winced. “Nothing ill,” he said, with a heartiness that frightened Joanna still more. “The king has now retaken most of the rebel strongholds in the east. He prepares now to stop Louis’s coming. I must see to what ships are in harbor and have them fitted for war.”

“Yes,” Adam saidhis voice was high and unnatural”I must do the same.”

Joanna looked wildly from one to the other. She knew disaster when she saw it. She knew men pushed beyond endurance. She knew personally what it meant when it was necessary to cling to things like counting barrels of salt fish or, for men, fixing the mind on the details of the next physical task to be done. What Joanna did not know was what the disaster was.

“I only wondered” Adam was still speaking. “I only wondered,” he repeated, his voice suddenly shaking, “is   mama coming? Ian? I need to see them. I need’’

“Beloved,” Joanna, whispered, taking his hand. It was the most horrible thingalmost worse than Geoffrey’s walking deathto see that face, which had grown the lines and the eyes of an old man, and to hear the voice of a boy who needed his mother. “Sit here, beloved,” she urged, pushing Adam into a chair. “Mama will be here soon, any day now, very soon.” She turned to call across to a maid. “Bring wine, strong, sweet wine.”

Her eyes fell on Geoffrey who was looking around the hall. He saw the baskets used to carry clothes on pack animals half-full.

“Where are you going?” he asked conversationallyas if he had not heard Adam, not as if he cared, only a polite question.

“I thought since Sir John is so uncertain in his loyalty and my mother will be here, that I would go to Mersea,” Joanna replied mechanically, not really thinking of what she was saying, her mind still busy with what could have happened and what could be threatening them.

To her amazement, those innocent words made Geoffrey turn toward her with starting eyes. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking gagged, clapped his hand over his mouth, and staggered hastily toward the alcove where the waste shaft lay. A swift glance showed Adam sitting quietly, his head sunk into his hands. Joanna ran after her husband to brace his body against her own and hold his head while he vomited. After he straightened up and wiped his mouth, she drew him against her.

“Are you sick, dear heart?” she asked tenderly.

“No. It was what you saidabout going”

All Joanna’s inbred sense of possession leapt to life. “Mersea!” she exclaimed. “What has happened to Mersea?”

“Nothing, nothing. Mersea is safe and quiet. But I will not have you ride over the lands between here and Merseanot for any reason.”

“No danger threatens Mersea?”

“No, I swear it.”   “Then I will not go, if you do not wish it,” Joanna assured him soothingly. “Come and sit down. A little wine will settle your stomach. Tell me, Geoffrey, please tell me what is wrong.”

But Geoffrey told her nothing. He sat and drank his wine as she directed, but when she asked where he had been, he said, “With the king,” and looked so sick she thought he would bring up the wine he had just swallowed. That path was closed. She asked then if he or Adam had been hurt. Geoffrey closed his eyes and took a breath and then “made” a horrible travesty of a smile. A few bruises and scratches, he said, nothing that merited the effort of undressing to be tended.

It was Adam who finally answered her. The wine had put color back into his face and, when Joanna turned to him, unable to bear either Geoffrey’s numb despair or false good cheer, Adam saw her fear and confusion.

“I am sorry we frightened you, Jo,” he said, sounding more natural. “There is nothing to fear, really. It was” he passed a hand across his face. “The whole east,’’ and his voice shook again, “the whole east is a burned-out wasteland full of stinking corpses. First we took Rochester.” His eyes brightened momentarily. “That was good fun. They held out fiercely and the walls would not yield to the catapults and mangonels. We had to set the men to mining under a tower, and then we burnt out the timbers shoring up the tunnel and the tower fell, and so we breached the walls.”

The light died out of his eyes. “Then Salisbury settled to keep the rebels in London,” Adam continued slowly. “I was just thinking that I had better get back to Kemp because” He glanced toward Geoffrey, looked at Joanna, and mouthed “later,” ” because there were already rumors of invasion. But the king came and,” his voice faltered, “and commanded that Geoffrey and I come with him. He said we had well-trained troops and would be useful.”

There was a short silence. Joanna looked from one to the other. Geoffrey was staring down into his wine, the goblet clutched so tight in his hands that the knuckles showed   white. Adam had lost his color again and his eyes were black pools in his chalky face.

“Tell me!” Joanna insisted.

“It was like nothing I have ever seen.” The words spewed out as if Adam could no longer hold them in. “Where we stopped, the world burned. Nothing and no one was spared. I do not think a hundred women and babes came out of Berwick alive, not to speak of menI think not one. He let the French dogs loose upon his enemies. God knows, our men-at-arms are not gentle, butbut they do not spit the babes on their pikes and roast them while the mother is held down where she can see and hear it and be raped. The woman’s convulsions lend a spice one of them told me. I killed him.” Adam blinked and swallowed.

“But surely,” Joanna quavered, “you could control your own menyou did not need to permit”

“Oh, no.” Adam sighed, sipping the wine again, “that was not our part. We were used to prevent the mad dogs from running completely amok. John is not crazed.” He swallowed again. “I almost wish he were, but he is not. Those who were faithful to him and who offered large enough bribes were spared. It was our partGeoffrey’s and mine and a few other men with their own troopsto keep the
routiers
off those who yielded.”

“Then there is no shame to you,” Joanna urged. “Why are you so heavy of heart?”

Adam looked at her with a touch of bewilderment. “Iyou know, it is a strange thing. At first I was sick, but then, except for a special thing now and again, I grew accustomed. It was not until we rode away from all that, when I saw the land green and the new lambs leaping and the colts and calves all legs, that I” His eyes widened. “When did you say mama would come?”

“Soon,” Joanna soothed, “soon. Come with me now and let Edwina take off your armor and bathe you.”

“Edwina?” Adam’s voice dropped back to its normal depth and he grinned. “How many little bastards does that one have now?”   In spite of her awareness of Geoffrey sitting and staring in just the position she had left him, Joanna could not help smiling. All would be well with Adam, she thought, if he could evince so great an interest in Edwina. She signaled the maid behind her brother’s back to let him tumble her if he showed a desire for it. Ordinarily, Edwina regarded Adam as a “child” and would have refused him, but she looked at Joanna as if to say she was no fool and knew as well as her mistress when a man needed such warmth and soothing. Tears rose and stung in Joanna’s eyes. Geoffrey was beyond such ministrations, she feared.

Alinor and Ian arrived with the dusk that very day, and one could see Adam’s spirit healing as they spoke, explaining and comforting. Geoffrey, however, did not change. He was perfectly sensible and, owing to wider experience, not nearly so distressed by the excesses of the foreign mercenaries, but his eyes were the color of mud and there was no life in his voice. He had given no response to Joanna’s overtures when she bathed him, and she desisted, her own passion chilled. When they went to bed she tried again.

Although Joanna succeeded in rousing her husband, it was a dreadful mistake. He said all the right words; his hands and lips did all the right things. He was patient and considerate, waiting and waiting for her because she was very slow to reach orgasm. She came at last because the stimulation of her body blanked out the sorrow of her mind. Geoffrey was not therenot Geoffrey. This was someone remote and indifferent, cold even in the moment of climax.

The next day, Adam dragged Joanna out into the garden to tell her that she need not worry about Geoffrey. “He is as able as ever. The hurts he had do not hinder him in any way. God knows, he needs no guarding from me. I may be a little stronger, but he is quicker and much more subtle. I had enough to do to keep up with him.”

That was not, of course, what Joanna feared, but it was impossible to explain, so she thanked Adam and kissed him and said she was sorry that he had come to harm through her. If she had not begged his help, he would not have been   dragged on John’s murderous campaign through the east. Adam’s mouth hardened, but he replied that
he
was not sorry. He had learned a few things.

What he had learned came out that evening as they sat before the fire. “If Louis comes, will you hold by your oath to John, Ian?” Adam asked.

Ian looked startled. “You know I willand it is not through fear of what you saw the king do. That is an ugly and a terrible thingbut it was not wholly undeserved by those who suffered it. Whatever John is, he is the rightful king and he will stray abroad no more. When Louis is cast out, will the pope, nill the pope, we will bind John to Magna Carta and have peace in this land and a right rule.”

“You will never have it with John,” Adam replied steadily, “charter or no charter. Even those who follow him and are loyal to him hate him. It was not for what he did. You have said, and I have seen, that these things are necessary. It was because he took pleasure in it.
I
hate him, Ian, and I have never hated any person in my whole life.”

Ian opened his mouth as if to give a sharp order, and then swallowed. Adam was beyond being commanded. He was not knighted, but there could be no doubt that he was adult and master of his own.

“So?” he said bitterly. “And you, Geoffrey, what do you say to this?”

“I? There is nothing I can say. Adam is quite right. There will be no peace as long as John reigns. If he continues to be king much longer you will see father pitted against son and brother against brother. But it will not help if Louis wins. There will be no peace anyway. First, he will kill John’s heirs so that we will have no rallying point. Then he will set foreign masters over us who do not know our customs. He will find excuses to disseise us and give the land to his own men. And those of us who remain, by his grace and our humbling of ourselves, he will drain to the last drop to pay for his wars in France and Flanders, and Savoy… . There will be rebellion again.”

“But what will you do?” Adam asked, not completely convinced, but certainly shaken.   “I will do nothing if I can. If I am summoned by the king, I will go and fight for him. My oath is givenand Ian is right in thatJohn is the rightful king. What can I do beyond wishing and praying I were dead?”

“Oath or no oathI cannot fight for him,” Adam cried passionately.

But Joanna hardly heard him. She was aware suddenly that, although Geoffrey did not seem to be looking at her, his attention was fixed upon her. Very briefly his eyes flashed to her and away. Joanna sat still, very still. He hated her! Why? Why? Because she had fought for his life when he could have died?

The single glance was all Geoffrey could bear. She was so beautiful, so warm, so loving, so alive. Every question he had ever had about Joanna’s feelings had been answered when Adam appeared before Rochester. Because she feared for him she had been willing to thrust her adored “baby” brother into danger. There could be no doubt who came first in Joanna’s heart and mind. Geoffrey wished passionately that he were not such a coward, that he could stiffen his spirit enough to plunge a knife into that exquisite white throat or through the sweet white breast into Joanna’s heart.