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Authors: Karen Brooks

BOOK: Brewer's Tale, The
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‘Aye,' called a voice, ‘a darn sight more than you paid, you tight-arsed bastard.'

There were hoots and cackles.

After that, the verdict was swift and final.

‘Bishop Roland le Bold —' Archbishop Arundel asked everyone to stand. Waiting until the room fell quiet, he continued. ‘On the morrow, you will be put to death according to the laws of both church and king. Our laws decree that such a sentence cannot be carried out on church property, therefore, you will be transported to the Tower, whereupon, as the sun rises, you will hang by the neck until you are dead.'

Roland turned white. His eyes widened and a harsh, terrible scream issued from his throat. Guards descended upon him, hauling him out of the room, trying to prevent him from injuring himself as he pulled at his chains, swung his body side to side. ‘Nay! It's she who must die! The viper; the poison rose of Satan!'

I didn't hear what was said after that, I no longer cared.

Justice was served. Because of my beloved, Leander, I was a free woman.

As Roland le Bold, formerly Westel Calkin, was led into the bowels of the Palace and The Clink, I was taken out another door, into light and liberty.

The liberty to finally be who I was, love whom I chose, leave Southwark and, with my family and friends, establish my brewery in London.

SIXTY

THE SWANNE

July

The year of Our Lord 1408 in the ninth year of the reign of Henry IV

E
xhaustion battled with exhilaration as celebrations at The Swanne continued long into the night. Though I'd had the bath and rest I'd delayed in order to bear witness to Roland's trial, and eaten fit to burst, part of me was still trapped in the barrel. Trying to repress the flashes of memory that insisted on conjuring the full horror of it, I determined to focus on the good as I sat in Alyson's solar drinking ale and beer with my family and friends. Huddled next to me was Betje, Harry by her side, their faces glowing with quiet disbelief, words tripping over each other in an effort to leave nothing unsaid, as only those who have escaped tragedy are sometimes wont to do. Others prefer quietude — not without, but within. It was the latter I sought, even amid the gaiety and abandon.

Allowing the twins to remain in the solar, I held them to my breast and, possibly sensing the peace their mother radiated (a great deal due to their presence), they snuggled into my bosom contentedly, gently tugging my hair, giggling and clapping, so that Constance and Emma (who could not cease apologising) could enjoy a dance and some drinks.

Adam played his pipe and Master atte Place a drum. Captain Geise, the man who surprised us all with his unexpected aid and generosity in caring for the twins and Constance (since I had become a Crown trader, the Hanse's reputation was no longer under threat if members associated with me), plucked a gittern. They played a bawdy song about a knight and his mistress.

To be in the company of Blanche, Iris, Father Clement, Master Perkyn and Master Makejoy brought me much happiness. When Tobias and Adam had ridden into Elmham Lenn and sought them out, they were first surprised and delighted to see them. Shocked to discover I was in such dire trouble, upon learning they could help, they made swift arrangements and left for Southwark immediately. Leander organised horses, an escort and accommodation.

‘Grand it were, too,' said Blanche.

‘Oh aye,' agreed Iris, watching the dancers with such longing I bade her join them.

Father Clement gave me messages from Mother Joanna, and Master Perkyn from Olive and many more besides. When Master Makejoy joined us, a mazer of ale in his hand, I asked after my cousin's health only to see a look of sadness cross his face.

‘You wouldn't have heard, would you, mistress? We'd no way to find you. Hiske died of the plague not these few months past.' He lowered his head and I expressed my sympathy discovering, much to my surprise, that I meant it. I'd always known, deep down, that the discordant relations I'd shared with my cousin had little to do with me, despite appearances.

‘I know you and she didn't always see eye to eye,' said Master Makejoy, pulling a kerchief from his surcoat and blowing his nose loudly, ‘but she gave me some very joyful times and I'll be hard-pressed to replace her. Nonetheless, she believed in family and I know she would have wanted me to come here to your aid, mistress. She bore a terrible guilt over what happened betwixt you. I hope, may God assoil her, that she can rest easy now.'

I wasn't quite sure how to respond, so I patted his hand.

It was Leander who, upon returning to The Swanne with Captain Stoyan, took me from the festivities and up to my room, offering neither apologies nor explanation. Some ribald comments accompanied our departure, but I simply laughed. All I wanted was to be alone with my beloved.

Shutting the door, he leaned against it. I sank onto the bed with a groan. The unguents Alyson had rubbed into my burns may have alleviated much of the pain, but they also made my tunic and kirtle stick to my flesh and I longed to divest myself of them. I began to tug at my laces.

‘Are you going to stand there all night, my lord, or join me?'

Leander chuckled and pried himself from the door. Watching him approach, his rolling gait and what it signified, I almost pitied those who failed to recognise the strength, the dexterity that emanated from him, despite the affliction. There were those, as I'd learned, who never looked beneath the surface, preferring to remain in the shallows.

He propped his cane against the chair and sat beside me. Placing a hand over mine, he stilled my fingers. ‘I want nothing more than to stay, if you're sure.'

‘Quite sure.'

‘Isn't there something you want to ask me first?'

I shrugged. ‘Is there?'

Leander lifted my hand and kissed my fingers one by one. ‘Alyson told me —'

‘That never bodes well.'

He didn't smile. ‘Alyson said that during your trial, le Bold mentioned consanguinity. That he said Tobias was
my
son.'

‘He did …'

Leander nodded. ‘Well then. Do you want the truth?'

I pulled my hand away and walked to the window, treasuring the places upon my hand where his kisses had fallen. The shutters were open and the warm, grey day had turned into a balmy night. The clouds that had slunk over the city remained, swallowing the moon and stars.

‘I'm afraid of the truth.' I spun around. ‘I would rather love in ignorance than feel guilty every time you touched me, every time I had lustful thoughts or desired you as, even though I wilt from tiredness and injury, I do now.'

A flicker of a smile crossed his face.

‘Anneke. It's not true. Le Bold presented a falsehood, mayhap to enhance your wickedness.'

My hands reached behind to grab the ledge as my body slumped and my head bowed. ‘Thank God.' Steadying my thoughts, I raised my face. ‘So Lord Rainford is Tobias's father?'

‘Nay. It's Symond. Symond is his father. Tobias is my nephew.'

‘Your
brother
?' Repelled by the thought of my sweet, gentle mother with that brute, I was at first lost for words. ‘Sir Symond? I never knew, would never have thought …' I shook my head. ‘Why then did your father make Tobias
your
squire? Why did he place
my
father in so much debt? Punish him for the sins of my mother and your brother? Why did he let me believe it was him?'

Leander sighed and patted the bed beside him. When I sat, he took my hand in his again. ‘Do you remember the day, when you were a little girl, that you and your mother came to Scales Hall?'

‘I do. You were most discourteous to me and, if I recall, when we met again at Holcroft House, you claimed not to remember our first meeting.'

‘Well, that wasn't true. I was simply being contrary.' He stroked my palm. ‘When I was young, I was boorish to all outsiders, most of whom, because of my leg,' he looked at it, turning it slightly, ‘would treat me as if I was in need of a mind as well.' He sighed. ‘You may recall that what I lacked in courtesy that day, Symond more than made up for.'

‘Indeed. He was very kind. Kept me amused the entire time my mother was with your stepmother.'

‘He did. But, like anything Symond does, it was with a purpose. Keeping you entertained was a way to ingratiate himself with your mother. She was very beautiful, you know.'

‘Oh, I know.'

‘Your mother felt indebted to Symond for what he did and, the next time she came to Scales Hall, she brought him a small gift. Finding him in the stables, she tried to give it to him. Symond refused, said there was only one gift he wanted from her and if she wouldn't give it freely, he would take it.'

‘You're not saying …'

‘I am. Symond raped your mother.'

I exhaled, a long, sad note of despair. Mother never intimated, never said. I'd assumed so much, misjudged so badly.
Moeder, forgive me
. That I too had suffered such a fate, what did that mean? Was there a purpose? To teach me a lesson for being judgemental when compassion was needed?
Dear God
.

Extracting my hands from Leander's, I lowered my head into them. ‘All along, I thought, I believed — mother encouraged me to … I thought she'd given herself freely.'

‘Not freely. Though it was what I understood for years as well. That she'd seduced Symond. I only learned the truth from my father recently. She was forced, and most violently by all accounts.'

It was some time before I could raise my head. I inhaled and let the breath out slowly. ‘Tell me, why was my father punished for your brother's sin?'

Leander straightened his leg with a grimace. ‘Once your mother admitted to your father she was with child, he knew it couldn't be his. He'd been away for months and the timing was wrong. Only then did your mother confess what happened. In a rage, your father rode to Scales Hall. He confronted Symond, who didn't deny what had happened, but the great, arrogant fool, instead of offering apologies, compensation, contrition, anything, chose to cast aspersions upon your mother's character, called her whore and other such names.' Leander had the grace to look abashed. ‘Your father, forgetting he was dealing with such a young man and someone — forgive me, Anneke — above his station,' I waved a hand; it was but the truth, ‘demanded a reckoning. Already angry, he lost his temper. He gave Symond such a beating. When Symond drew his sword, your father unsheathed his dagger. He was swift, too fast for Symond. He slashed his face from here to there.' Leander drew a line that mimicked the scar upon his brother's face. The one I had thought earned in battle. ‘I think he would have finished him if one of the stableboys hadn't fetched Master Evan, who told father. Had they not pulled
your
father from Symond, well …

‘Finding his eldest son in a bloody heap, unconscious, father would have demanded justice then and there, and been in the right to take it, had he not known instinctively that Symond was responsible for what had befallen him. Even at fifteen, Symond was crafty, underhanded, spoiled. Learning the truth, my father struck a deal with yours. While Symond was carried to his room and doctors sent for, father promised to provide for the child in your mother's womb and, once he came of age, to take him into his own household. For his silence and cooperation, he promised your father recompense in the form of material comfort. But he also intended your father to be punished. The doctors didn't think Symond would make a full recovery; they though he would suffer permanent injury.' Gesturing to his leg, he scowled. ‘I don't think father could cope with the notion of having two sons maimed. My father concluded that it was only just that
your
father suffer as well, and decided to hurt him where it would matter.'

‘Money.'

Leander nodded. ‘He ordered Master Makejoy to draw up a contract. I'm not convinced your father read it properly before he signed. Realisation of what he had agreed only came later. I believe he simply wanted to put the entire episode behind him. Hence, your father settled upon an arrangement that saw your family economically secure, but only while he remained alive. Upon his death, as you know, everything reverted back to the Rainford estates.'

I held Leander's hand tightly. ‘Father never did put what happened to mother behind him. He wasn't able …'

‘Tobias.'

‘He always treated him … differently. When I learned from mother a version of what happened, I believed it was because father was a cuckold and Tobias was a reminder of it that he divorced himself from the family and appeared indifferent to our fates. But it was so much more … Tobias was also a reminder of a poor business deal, of revenge failed. Of temper lost.' I examined our entwined hands. How strange that from such hate, such bitterness, blossomed our love. ‘Didn't your father think of the innocent in all this? After all, mother did not ask for such violence. Neither did Tobias. The twins … me.' My voice grew smaller.

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