Whited Sepulchres (5 page)

The door burst open and Thomas hurled himself into the room. He skidded to a halt in front of Isabelle, but before he could say anything, the old Isabelle returned for a moment. ‘Stop!’ She held up her hand and he stood with his mouth open. ‘I have told you before that you must seek permission before you enter my chambers. Go back outside, knock, and wait for me to reply.’

‘But my lady …’

She slapped him on the back of his head. ‘Don’t you dare talk back to me! Go and do as I say at once, or there will be trouble.’

He turned, shoulders hunched, and sulked his way back to the door. He hovered near a stool and for a moment Joanna thought that he might kick it, but fortunately for him – and his health – he decided against it. He left the room and pulled the door closed behind him, and then Joanna heard an impatient knock. She looked at Isabelle, who was examining her fingernails with some care. There was silence for a moment before the pounding sounded again, just as insistently. Isabelle still said nothing.

‘My lady, should I – ’

‘No, Joanna. He’ll get the idea in a moment.’

Joanna waited, and then after a pause the knocking came a third time, controlled and polite. Now Isabelle looked up. ‘You may enter.’

Thomas came in, walked steadily up to Isabelle, shot her a look of venom, and bowed. ‘My lady.’ Joanna hadn’t thought it was possible to bow sarcastically, but evidently it was.

‘Yes, what is it?’

‘My lord sends me to tell you that a messenger has arrived, and that his sisters will be arriving this afternoon instead of tomorrow. They will be here within the hour.’ He bowed again, smirking now.

Joanna nearly jumped from her seat. But the rooms weren’t ready! They still needed the mattresses airing and the bedclothes setting out. There would need to be water for washing, and the kists for the guests’ clothes would need to be checked to ensure that they were clean and sweet-smelling. And then … but Isabelle looked equally rattled and needed her attention. She waved Thomas on his way and stood.

‘Oh Lord, will you look at me! I need to change my gown and put on a better headdress before they get here. Quickly now!’

Edwin wiped his sleeve across his forehead as he returned from the fields. In the wide open spaces the heat had been even greater than he’d expected, bouncing back off the ground and turning the fields into a shimmering furnace, and he could feel the sweat pooling under his arms and trickling down his back as he trudged towards the village. Some of that, he admitted to himself, may have been from fear; every rustle in the undergrowth, every movement of a branch, had startled him and made his hand fly towards the dagger. He was walking slowly, but his heart felt as though he’d been running non-stop for miles. He tried to remain calm – after all, he’d seen two separate groups of men from the castle riding out in search of outlaws, so surely they would have run away by now – as he longed for some ale to wet his dusty throat, a cool cloth to put on his pounding head, and some shade to stop his pale skin from burning. Still, the walk had been worth it: his barley and oats in the south field were fine and he seemed set for a good harvest, which would provide for him and his mother through the winter as well as something of a surplus if they were lucky. Of course, no man counted his harvest until it was successfully gathered, so he would have to watch the weather carefully over the next few weeks; he muttered a brief prayer to ask the Lord’s blessing on their efforts and for the avoidance of the hard winter which would follow if the crops failed. It had happened only once in his lifetime, but he remembered the gaunt faces and the endless succession of funerals.

He shuddered as he entered the village, either from the thought of winter or at the relief of being safe from attack on the open road, and his head began to clear. Yes, say a harvest of two dozen quarters of grain in total, minus the tithe, save, say, six quarters for next year’s seed, allow ten to feed the family and animals over the winter and spring, and that would still leave … oh, wait. They wouldn’t need so much now. They were no longer a family of three, but only two. A dark shadow hovered at the corner of his eye; he turned quickly to try and catch it, but it was gone.

He had arrived home. He stood across the street and contemplated it. In the weeks since he’d been back he’d been able to attend to some of the repairs which had been needed, and now the cottage – one of only three in the village with more than one room – looked more like the residence he remembered and less like it was starting to become derelict. Of course, all the things which were women’s work – the garden, the livestock, the cleaning inside – had been perfect all along, but the male tasks had been neglected during his father’s last illness. He sighed as he started to cross the road, only then realising that the sound of hoofbeats was close behind him. He turned to find himself almost under the horses of several men in livery, the advance riders of a large party which was raising a huge cloud of dust as it ploughed through the village’s dry street. He skipped across quickly and flattened himself against the fence to let them pass.

Behind the advance riders came two men in rich clothing. One was very thin and looked as though he might also be tall once he got down from what was a very fine horse; the other was much burlier and had a huge beard. He was laughing at something the other had said, throwing his head back with mirth, his face lighting up. He then turned to the small boy riding behind him on a pony, to include him in the joke. The boy smiled back but he looked tired, concentrating on sitting up straight and staying on his mount. Edwin could sympathise with that – he still winced when he thought of the long ride to Lincoln and back. If the boy had been a villager, Edwin would have said he was about seven or eight years of age, but given that he was a noble and therefore bigger and more well built, he was probably only about six: he really would be glad to get to his destination. Still, they weren’t far from it now, for surely these were the earl’s relatives who were arriving for the wedding.

His guess was confirmed when he saw the sumptuous covered wagon which followed the men on horseback. It creaked along, pulled by four heavy-looking horses who seemed to be struggling even though the ground was dry and hard, and as it passed him Edwin saw another boy peering out the back of it. He was slightly older than the one on the pony, and he bore a striking resemblance to Thomas. As the boy saw Edwin he made a rude gesture and pulled his head back inside. As the coloured hanging fell back into place Edwin caught a glimpse of the bright clothing of some ladies inside the wagon, no doubt being jolted by every tiny movement.

Behind the nobles came a large number of packhorses, servants and guards, some looking curiously around them at the village, others staring doggedly ahead towards the castle gate. Coughing at the dust which had been raised by such a large party, Edwin waited until they had all passed – which took some time – before he stepped out into the street again. A number of other villagers had emerged from their houses to watch the spectacle, and he waved to Agnes, the old woman who was the priest’s housekeeper, as he turned to go into his garden. Before he could get there, however, he was accosted by Godleva, the daughter of one of the village labourers. She bounced in front of him, barring his path, and spoke.

She sounded out of breath. ‘Oh, Edwin, did you ever see anything so fine? How lovely it must be to travel about the country in such a cart, with so many servants and men around you!’

Actually Edwin thought that the wagon had looked pretty uncomfortable, but out of politeness he agreed that it had been fine, and made to move on.

She put a hand on his arm. ‘And how fortunate the ladies are, to have such rich husbands to provide them with such finery!’ She smoothed down a fold of her rather ragged gown and her eyelashes fluttered. He wondered if she had something in her eye.

‘Edwin! Are you coming in?’

It was his mother, coming out of the garden and across the street to him. Godleva scowled but then assumed a sweet smile as she turned. ‘Good day, Mistress Anne. How well you are looking today.’ Her voice was so honeyed you could have put it on bread.

Edwin’s mother bobbed her head briefly. ‘Good day. I’m sorry I have no time to stand and talk, for there’s always so much to do in the home. Can I not hear your mother calling for you?’ Godleva turned and Edwin took the opportunity to disengage his arm and move towards his mother.

‘Well, it was nice to speak with you, but I must be going.’

She took a step towards him. He took a step back.

‘It was lovely to speak to you too, Edwin. We must do it again
very
soon.’ Her eyelashes quivered again as she swirled her skirts to walk away, revealing one dirty ankle as she did so.

Edwin’s mother grumbled to herself as they went into the house, but Edwin didn’t catch any of it. Once they were inside he sat as she fetched a cup of ale; as she brought it over he opened his mouth to speak but was surprised when she banged it down on the table with unnecessary force.

‘Mother!’

She looked at him.

He was confused. ‘What?’

She sighed. ‘You really must make more of an effort not to keep getting caught by these girls.’

‘What?’

She made a tutting noise. ‘Ever since you came back from Lincoln, or more specifically, since you were employed by our lord earl, every girl in the village has tried to throw herself at you. Obviously you’ll have to marry one day, but I’ll be in my grave before I let the likes of Godleva get hold of you!’

Edwin choked on the ale he’d just sipped. He coughed and then spluttered as some of it went up his nose. ‘Married? But …’ He tried to set the cup down again without spilling anything, and took a deep breath. ‘Me?’

His mother rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, you. You’ve always been a good steady lad, and now you’re earning a fine wage and you have the attention of the lord earl himself, you’re the best prospect in the village.’ She softened and smiled for the first time. ‘Hadn’t you noticed?’

‘Well, no. But I mean … that is to say, what I mean is … married? Me?’

‘It comes to us all, Edwin, and you must put your mind to it. There are one or two suitable girls in the village, so you’ll have to choose from among them.’

Strangely, the room seemed to look different from usual. Was it spinning slightly? He stood and drained the rest of his ale. ‘I have to go to … well, I’m in a hurry. I’ll talk to you later.’ He left the house.

Joanna had no idea how an hour could have gone by so fast – even though it was midsummer so the hours were longer than at any other time of year – but it seemed like no more than a few moments before she was standing behind Isabelle as the heavy covered wagon creaked to a halt and the accompanying riders pulled up in the inner ward. The earl stepped forward to greet his guests as they alighted: first the Lady Ela, shaking out her skirts and pushing away the spindly arm of her husband William Fitzwilliam as she took her brother’s hand instead; next her younger son Roger, who jumped nimbly down – Joanna saw the earl frown slightly and wondered that a boy of eight should still be carried in the wagon like a child instead of riding a horse – and then the Lady Maud, short and plump, smiling as ever as she disembarked. The ladies’ companions followed, looking pleased to be out of the wagon, as well they might. Little Pierre had already dismounted from his pony and now he skipped forward to hold his father’s stirrup; Henry de Stuteville smiled at his son through his beard as he stood to await his turn to shake hands with the earl. Then they were introduced to Sir Gilbert and the group ascended the steps to enter the great chamber.

Once inside there was a flurry of activity as the various squires and companions sought to make their masters and mistresses comfortable. Joanna was able to steal several glances at Martin as he directed them all to the wine and helped them to move chairs around. Once he looked back at her and her heart leapt so much that she thought she would drop the cup she was holding. But she managed to complete her duties and then retreated to the corner of the room along with Matilda, who was the Lady Ela’s companion, and the vivacious girl who had accompanied the Lady Maud, whom she hadn’t met before.