A Love For All Seasons (11 page)

No matter how many years he stayed with Master Colin he would never use that scale. Labor in any tradesman's shop was divided into two types: the things done by masters and those apprentices learning from them, and things done by the servants. As a servant, Rob might tally and sort the supplies entering either the apothecary's shop or the spice merchant's warehouses. Most certainly, he would clean and prepare the flowers, leaves, twigs, and roots for processing into medicines or flavorings. But, because he was no apprentice and would never have the money necessary to make himself one, he would never use that scale, or take lessons as Arthur did or know the pride of being called
master
.

"Little mistress?" Helewise's worried call floated out of Master Walter's bedchamber window.

An answering flash of worry woke in Johanna's bright blue gaze. Rob could nigh on see her thoughts spinning as she sought some reason for not being abed as she should. Without so much as a fare-thee-well, she turned and squeezed through the gap between distillery's hearth and kitchen wall, then disappeared around the kitchen's corner. In the next moment her voice rose from the center of Master Walter's tiny courtyard. "I come. I was but in the privy!" Johanna's soul was less troubled by lies than was Rob's.

When the fires were properly set, Rob reentered the apothecary's shop. The stairs to the upper story, more ladder than stairway, were just inside the doorway. Using both hands and feet, he clambered up the narrow steps. When his head breached the hole cut in the ceiling, he set his elbows on the floor and hoisted himself into the shop's upper chamber.

This house had once belonged to Master Griggo, father to Master Walter and teacher of Master Colin. When Master Walter had inherited both the apothecary trade and this house, Master Colin had stayed on, lacking the funds to set himself up into trade. The spice merchant needed someone to work his father's apothecary shop, which both used and sold locally many of the spices he purchased as it allowed Master Walter to concentrate on nurturing his own growing trade. When Master Walter moved to his new house, Master Colin had remained here, giving him his own household for the first time.

Judged against Master Walter's new home, this dwelling was hopelessly old and impoverished. Unlike Johanna's mother, whose dowry had included household goods, Master Colin wed a woman who brought with her apothecary jars, simmering pots, and what she'd learned of herbs at her own father's knee. Thus, their tiny hall held but a wee trestle table, a single chest, a bench, and two stools. But then their household dined with Master Walter, so they had no need for hearth, cooking equipment, or service goods.

Rob turned to the woolen sheet that made two rooms of this one wee chamber. "Master, I have your shoe," he called.

"Enter," Master Colin replied, and Rob ducked around the blanket's edge.

His master's bed was the only one Rob had ever seen. Poles like smooth tree trunks stood at all four corners of the piece. Spanning them near their tops were smaller branches, polished and straight, which held aloft the woolen bedcurtains. Thick boards made a frame within which the mattress nestled. Even after more than two months of familiarity, Rob loved to look upon it. Each time he did, the certainty that he'd one day own one just like it firmed in his heart.

Master Colin sat upright on the mattress, his nightcap yet on his head and a long, round bolster between his back and the headboard. Warm blankets were gathered around his waist so only his chest and arms were bare. Dark hollows clung beneath his eyes, but his gaze was alert and filled with quiet pleasure. "My thanks, lad," he said, his voice warm as always. "Once again you do me a boon when I do not deserve it."

His master's words set a glow in a place deep within Rob. "It was a pleasure to be able to aid you, Master," he replied, leaning down to place the shoe he’d saved next to its mate.

As he straightened he glanced at plump Mistress Katherine, who sat between her husband and the wall. Only a little more than half her husband's six and thirty years, she clutched the bed linens to her chest. Her bare shoulders were cloaked in her free-flowing honey-colored hair. Although her eyes were brown, they sparked green, as Mama's had. But, unlike Mama or Helewise there was always too much laughter in her gaze, and this made Rob uncomfortable.

To escape her silent amusement, he turned his attention back on Master Colin. Why had his employer spoken to Johanna's father over him last even? It wasn't until Master Colin crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side that Rob realized he was staring.

"My, but you've got questions in your eyes this morn, lad," his employer said. "What is it that has you pondering so?"

Rob instantly swallowed his need to know. Johanna had spied to learn what she had. To speak of it was to betray her. Afraid to open his mouth against a wayward tongue, he but shook his head in a tiny, negative motion.

Master Colin's expression tautened in consideration, and he raised a hand to scratch at his bearded chin. "Rob, a man who lacks the courage to ask after what is his heart's desire is a man doomed to a lifetime of disappointment and missed opportunities." Here, he paused as if waiting for Rob to ask for the thing his heart most desired.

Rob's breath came faster. The plea to be apprenticed to Master Walter as Arthur was pounded at his teeth in its need to be uttered. Common sense warned him against daring to release it. Master Colin was speaking of attainable dreams, when what Rob wanted was beyond impossible. Everyone knew it took coins to be apprenticed, even in the humblest of trades. Besides, it was better to silently cherish the hope of someday in his heart than to ask, be refused, and live the rest of his life knowing that the day he longed for would never arrive. Rob buried his hopeless wish, just as he knew he must.

"I shall take your words to heart, master," he replied, his voice sounding forlorn to his own ears.

"See that you do so this very day," his master chided, strange emphasis in his voice. "Moreover, know you that second chances are rare things in this world. Should one appear, never, never refuse it."

As Rob nodded to show he'd heard and understood, the bells of Stanrudde began to ring. Master Colin glanced toward the open window. When he again looked at Rob, his face had relaxed back into its normal, amiable expression.

"I'll not be attending mass this morn," he said. "You and Arthur hie yourselves next door to go with Helewise. See to it you do not make her late for the service."

"Aye, Master," Rob said, turning to push past the curtain once again. The woolen sheet fell back into place, and he started for the stairs.

"And, Rob," Master Colin called after him, his voice rumbling down into tones of pained irritation, "stop sleeping in your clothing. Heed me in this, or I may be forced to reconsider keeping you as my servant."

Rob grimaced. "Aye, master," he replied in defeat, knowing he could no longer ignore the edict. Indeed, it was a morning for disappointment. As he turned to clamber down the stairs, Mistress Katherine took up where her husband left off.

"Wash before you leave," she called, "scrubbing not just your face, but your teeth, as well. And, I do mean scrub, not simply spewing a few droplets at your skin. Arthur, too. I swear you two are the filthiest lads in all of Stanrudde. Do you hear me, Arthur?"

"Aye, Mistress," Arthur called morosely from the lower level workshop.

Disappointment grew and grew as Rob climbed backward down into the workshop until he had to stop and lean his head against a riser. Mayhap, he should have risked all and asked. Miracles happened. Hadn't it been a miracle that Master Walter found him in Blacklea? What if, just what if, he'd dared to ask and the answer had been yes? What if the opportunity would now be withdrawn, never to be offered again? As Master Colin said, second chances were few and far between. But, how was he to know which choice was the right one? Rob sighed, his worries weighing like lead on his shoulders. In the workshop, Arthur was pouring water into their basin. Rob leapt from the stairs and went to join him in his ablutions, finding no pleasure at all in this day's start.

Rob's questions and worries hadn't lightened any by the time mass ended. Nonetheless, he and Arthur departed the church at a trot, just as they'd done every morn for the past months. Although Arthur was nigh on two years Rob's senior they were of a height and matched each other, stride for stride. The apprentice looked at him, his golden hair gleaming in the early morning sun, his clear-cut features and green eyes alive in excitement. Arthur loved to run. Despite his weight he could keep a steady pace, one of the few things at which he was consistent.

Cutting around blue-gowned, white-veiled housewives and scarlet-robed, bearded tradesmen, they dashed onto Market Lane toward Master Walter's house, which sat on the corner of that lane and the ropemakers' street. A line of pack animals now stood along one side of the woven willow wall that enclosed Master Walter's home. The sturdy beasts were yet burdened with baskets and sacks as they snorted in impatience, wanting either their pasture or their stable.

"They're back!" Arthur crowed, then grabbed Rob and stopped so suddenly that Master Herebert nigh on stumbled over them.

Touching a finger to his lips, the apprentice leapt to the gate and pressed his back to the flimsy wall. He leaned into the gateway, taking care to expose no more of his face than the distance from the crown of his head to his eyes. Wondering what he was about Rob joined him, rising on his toes to peer over Arthur's shoulder into the compound.

More pack animals filled the courtyard's tiny space. Men Rob did not know laughed and talked as they emptied the beasts' baskets and backs. Some of these goods made their way toward the house, while others were set aside to be later carted to the river warehouse. Rob let his gaze linger for a moment on Master Walter's dwelling. The house towered over the courtyard, taller than any of the buildings around it. Caught between the outlining blocks of white, the black hearts of the split grayish stones gleamed like polished metal in the morning sun. The slate roof shone like pewter, the silvery glow reflecting naught but importance back to Rob.

Pride glowed in his heart. To be attached to Master Walter's household was a grand thing, indeed. Theirs was the richest establishment in all of Stanrudde.

"Look at him." There was an impatient sneer in Arthur's voice as he pointed to the slender young man standing before the house's small square forebuilding.

Rob studied the object of Arthur's scorn. Dressed in the green tunic and brown chausses of Master Walter's house, the youth was short of stature and almost girlishly fair, his hair as pale as Papa's. The young man was toying with a short dagger, the jewels in the slim knife's hilt catching the light. Rob stared in appreciation. To own such a piece meant this was a person of consequence.

"Who is he?" he whispered.

"That's Master Walter's other apprentice." Dislike lay heavily in Arthur's tone. "Last year, the master made Katel his heir by betrothing Johanna to him. Even though all the town knows Master Walter did this only because Katel's sire is one of the richest merchants in London, Katel now thinks he can lord over everyone when he's yet just an apprentice, like me."

A flash of memory came to Rob with the name, waking a nubbin of dislike in him. This was the one who'd urged Master Walter not to take him from Blacklea. Katel had called him offal.

"What are you doing?" Johanna asked, her soprano voice slicing through the air behind them.

Arthur gasped and Rob yelped, both boys leaping back from the gate and their spying. "Nothing," they replied as one.

Helewise strolled past them and into the compound. "Enough dallying, my lads," she said. "There's work to be done. Rob, hie yourself back to the shop. You'll not be eating for another hour."

"But, why?" he cried in hurt and hungry surprise as he entered the courtyard on her heels. For all of the summer he'd eaten with Arthur, the two of them using the same bench, trencher, and cup.

She glanced back at him, offering him that special smile she saved just for him. "This is not punishment, manikin. Now that the household is full once more, we cannot all eat at once. The masters, along with their apprentices and the higher servants dine first, the rest eating after."

Arthur dodged around Rob to plod alongside Helewise. "Please, might Rob still eat with me? He's but one small lad," he offered, although it wasn't exactly true.

"How now, Arthur," Katel cried out with all the flare of a mummer. As he sheathed his dagger, he shot Rob a frigid glance. "I'm struck to the core that you no longer wish to share your meal with me."

"Katel!" Johanna shouted in happy greeting as she threw herself against the young man. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she looked up at him. "Puss and I missed you. Come with me and I'll show you the bed I made for him " As always, Johanna did not ask, she demanded.

Master Walter's elder apprentice smiled as he leaned down to give his betrothed a brief embrace. "In a moment, my little wife. Why do you not go within and find Puss so you may show him to me? I'd see how much he's grown in my absence."

"Aye, Katel." As Johanna whirled away from him, eager to do as he bid, Katel straightened and stared at Arthur.

"Now, as for you, lad," he said, his voice cold, "I can only pray my eyes deceive me. Tut, but if you've been keeping company with him"—a jerk of his head indicated Rob—"you'll need to bathe every day for the next month just to rinse a bastard's stench from your skin."

Even though Arthur sidled closer to Rob at Katel's insult, Rob's fists clenched. Anger roiled in his belly. How could he have forgotten Master Walter's promise to Papa? It wasn't fair that folk would call him bastard when he was not. "I am no bastard," he retorted. "My father and mother were well and truly wed."

"Stop Katel," Johanna shouted at the youth then leapt to the housekeeper's side. "Make him stop, Helewise. Rob is my friend, and I don't want Katel to call him a bastard."

"Enough, little mistress," the housekeeper said, her voice tight.

"What is this?" Katel's voice cracked in outrage as he whirled on the housekeeper and his betrothed. "By God, but you know she's mine. Tell me you haven't allowed her to form affections with that bit of garbage!"

Rob drew a startled breath at this and stared at Helewise. So did Arthur and Johanna. By tradition it was the housekeeper's right to punish apprentices for wayward or rude behavior, even those as old as Katel. Instead of rebuke, Helewise bowed her head until she disappeared into the meek folds of her headdress.

"I've done only what the master commanded," she said in humble reply.

Rob frowned at Helewise's strange reaction, for it made it seem as though she'd done wrong when she hadn't. The only time he and Johanna saw each other was at meals and church. Of course, there were the times they met behind the warehouse, when Johanna wished to speak with him, or he with her, but no one knew about these. Or, this morning.

Katel fixed the housekeeper with a raging glare. "I will deal with you later. Take her within this moment," he shouted. At his command Helewise grabbed Johanna's arm and dragged the twisting, fighting girl toward the forebuilding's door. Johanna's determination to remain in the courtyard was strong enough to slow their progress to a snail's pace.

Master Walter's elder apprentice turned his fiery gaze on Rob. "If you've told folk you are a legitimate son, then you lie. Ralph of Blacklea disclaimed you before the whole of your village, saying his wife cuckolded him into accepting you when you're nothing but some nobleman's unacknowledged by-blow."

Once again the pain of Papa's hurting words tore through Rob. Tears filled his eyes. "That's not true! You'll not call my mother a Norman's whore!"

Katel's dark eyes narrowed, and he leaned toward Rob as if to keep his words private between them. "As backward as this place is, what you see here will someday be mine. If you think because Master Walter showed you a moment's kindness you now have some hope of making this place your home, think again. I'll allow no rude farmwife's bastard to worm his way into any part of what is mine."

With that, the youth straightened and threw back his head. "Hear ye, hear ye," he shouted at the top of his lungs, spreading his arms in dramatic display. His words rang against the stones of Master Walter's house. Every man within the courtyard stilled at his chores to look at the young man as the words went on rebounding until they filled the lane. Those in the street stopped and gathered at the gate to see what went forward within the spice merchant's courtyard.

Certain he had their full attention, Katel shouted, "At the behest of the man his mother cuckolded, this lad is to be known as Robert the Bastard from this day forward."

Fed by shame and the hurt Katel's wows did his mother, blind fury exploded in Rob. Its heat devoured all sense. No matter that Katel was older, taller, and two, mayhap three, stones heavier than he. All that existed in Rob was the need to hurt as he was being hurt. He launched himself at the youth.

Katel yelped, stumbling against the unexpected attack. Just as Papa had taught him, Rob set a blow deep into the youth's midsection. Gagging, the youth toppled back to sit on the courtyard's hard-packed earth. Rob fell on him. With his startled and yet unresisting victim beneath him, he used every ounce of his childish strength to pummel him.

Someone grabbed him by the back of his tunic. Rob was lifted to dangle in midair. Still sobbing in rage and frustration, he swung wildly into the empty space in front of him. "I am not a bastard!" he screeched.

"Enough, Rob," Master Colin said quietly. The apothecary gave him a gentle shake then lowered him to his feet.

Rob rubbed his streaming eyes to clear his vision. Katel sprawled on the hard-packed earth of the courtyard's floor. Yet gasping in his struggle to regain the breath Rob had knocked from him, the youth's face was white. This lack of color made the blood flowing from his nose and the marks Rob had laid on him seem all the redder.

Arthur touched Rob on the back in quiet congratulation for so surprising a success. From the spice merchant's gateway, folk laughed. Here within the courtyard, Master Walter's household guard offered Rob quiet cheers and words of praise for his victory in so mismatched a battle. A second scuffle was going on at the door to Master Walter's house as Johanna continued in her struggle to escape Helewise's insistence that she enter the forebuilding.

Wiping the blood from his face, Katel sat up. His skin darkened in humiliation. Rage followed shame, and he leapt to his feet. "I'll see you flayed for daring to attack your better," he shouted, yanking his garments back into order. Anger disappeared beneath a rush of triumph. "Nay, I'll do better than that. I'll bring my charges before the sheriff and see you driven not only from this house, but from Stanrudde's walls!"

Already trembling in fury's aftermath, this threat set Rob's knees to knocking. There was no hope for mercy from the sheriff. A servant dared not attack his employer. He'd be left homeless for certain now.

"Cease, Katel. It is not your place to demand punishment for Rob," Master Colin chided, his voice filled with irritated confusion. "What did you do to make him attack you?"

The elder apprentice's pale skin flushed ruddy at this. "It matters naught what I said to him. He is but a servant who will be dismissed for his actions."

Master Colin's chin jutted out at this pronouncement. "While that might be how your father runs his house, you know full well it is not Master Walter's way."

Katel turned on his mentor's employee, rage dimming into arrogance as his face twisted. "I'll not be chastised by one too poor to buy himself his own trade," he snapped, his tone condescending. "Stand between me and my right to justice, and I'll see you gone, as well." In the apprentice's face lived the certainty that what he commanded would not be usurped.

Rob leaned against Master Colin as the enormity of what he'd done sank into his soul. Katel was Master Walter's heir through Johanna, making him like unto a son. No doubt Master Walter would heed anything Katel said. In a single moment of blind rage he'd not only brought shame down upon Colin the Apothecary and cost himself everything he cherished, he'd placed his beloved master in jeopardy. Tears started to his eyes, and he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Master, I beg pardon," he managed. Master Colin smiled at him, his hand moving across Rob's back as if to both reassure and comfort.

"What is all this ruckus?" Master Walter called as he exited the forebuilding's door. The spice merchant struggled to pull a too small blue brocade bedrobe over his hastily donned shirt. Bright red hair spiked this way and that from beneath his nightcap. His legs were bare while on his feet were a pair of sabots, also too small for him.

"Papa!" Johanna shrieked in joy, breaking free of Helewise to throw herself at him.

With a laugh of equal pleasure, Master Walter grabbed up his daughter. "Poppet! I missed you."

"You were still sleeping when we left this morn," Johanna told him, nestling her head into his shoulder, "and Helewise wouldn't let me wake you. Papa, Rob is my friend. Do not let Katel hurt him and send him away," she pleaded into the collar of his robe, her arms tight around his neck.

"Hurt him? Send him away?" Master Walter glanced at her, then to the bruised and bloody Katel. With a growing frown, he clip-clopped across the courtyard to join his daughter's betrothed, juggling Johanna as he tried to draw the bedrobe closed against the morn's crisp air. "What goes forward here, Katel?"

What remained of anger departed from the youth's face, leaving only the distressed confusion of an innocent victim. "Master Walter, this lad attacked me. As he is but a servant here I told him he is discharged, as would happen to any other had he raised his hand against his better."

"Do not let him," Johanna begged again.

Her papa gently set her down, then motioned Helewise to his side. "Take her within," he told his housekeeper. When Johanna opened her mouth to argue, Master Walter shook his head. "Do as I say, or I'll not give you what I've brought for you."