The Everlasting Covenant (54 page)

“
Of course, my lord,
”
she finally answered.

“
Well,
”
he said, spreading the word out loudly and with a breath.
“
If I strike you, these men will come to doubt me, for they are smitten with you.
”
He chuckled.
“
They do not know
you, of course. They do not see you as you are. You are selfish, hoarding your fortune and your children by Forbes. You delight in keeping me without title here. But they cannot deprive me of fair punishment of my wife.
”

“
For what am
I
being punished, my lord?
”

“
For causing me to worry. For spending days in the same hall with your previous lover. And, of course, you were never pun
ished for what you did to Forbes. You are only a whore, but few of us know it.
”

She dared not look around, but then neither did Clifton. Clifton hung on to the old lie that Gage was sired by him. She wondered why, he was surely drunk enough to tell all.

“
You wish I would leave, don
’
t you, madam? I will not. Food and drink are plentiful here. These men will deliver me a wench from the village to warm my bed now that you are locked in yon chamber. And I am still your husband.
”
He looked at her long and hard.
“
Take off your dress.
”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“
My lord?
”

“
The punishment did well enough for Shore
’
s wife, it will do for you. You may take your walk through the streets of Ayliffe at dusk, your feet bare and your body likewise. These hearty knights will spread the word among the
townspeople. The sun will set ..
.
“
He broke off in the middle of his well-planned sentence as it briefly eluded him. Unless the wine took the better of his head soon, she would have no recourse.

“
You will carry a candle, as Shore
’
s wife did. To your shame, madam. Mayhap you rule your castle well, but you serve your husband ill.
”
He laughed suddenly, and just as suddenly he recovered his former surly disposition.
“
Take off your dress.
”

“
Do you punish me for my sins against my former husband?
”
she asked softly.

“
Yea, that and other discomforts.
”

“
Tis not your right
--
”

“
I make it my right. Do as I say.
”

She briefly considered defying Clifton, but feared goading him into disclaiming her sons. Better to take his punishment,
unjustly levied against her.
“
Do you plan to have me walk through the villages in my thin kirtle, as Mistress Shore was made to walk through London?
”

“
Nay,
”
he replied, leaning back and smiling.
“
I think you do not need a kirtle.
”

“
My lord, you cannot
--
”

“
You spelled out the confines of our marriage, madam, as I have been oft reminded. Over your body, I have dominion. Over these estates, the dominion is yours, for now at least. You need to be taught a lesson. Your people will learn of my might from this, I reckon. The dress
.”

At his command, Anne braved a look around the room. She took quick note of a variety of expressions and postures. She was not allowed much time to survey her people, but she caught a few eyes cast to their boots, a few castlewomen hanging back in the doorways with pain in their eyes. She saw Jane, horrified anger shining in her eyes,
a few scowling mouths, some dis
turbed frowns, questioning or frightened twists to lips, she did not see anyone enjoying the scene.

Faith,
she told herself. Strength and faith were her only tools. She had been at Ayliffe for twenty-three years, since she was barely sixteen. She had made mistakes, but she had been true to her oath to keep the place well. If her people doubted her or did not respect her, it was their careful secret. They had always treated her well, few had ever defied her. Clifton was clumsy and drunk. He did not know what he was doing. In his effort to gain power and control, he could be yielding the last of it.

“
Mistress Jane,
”
she called. The servant came forward of the knights with a furious grimace on her lips.
“
My fastenings,
”
Anne instructed, pulling her unbound hair over one shoulder.

“
My lady, you cannot allow ...
”

“
The fastenings, Jane. My husband has
commanded me in this –
and in this I fear to defy him.
”

She could feel the fingers of her old friend and servant tremble as she unfastened the dress. The dress was finally dropped around her ankles. Anne kept her eyes focused on Clifton, but his
eyelids dropped now and then. She hoped he would fall into a drunken slumber soon. She wondered at the feelings of the men who surrounded her now. Were they too curious to avert their eyes? Would someone slay Clifton in the dark of night for this cruelty?

“
Are my sins so serious that I am not allowed a kirtle?
”
she asked softly.

“
You are insolent,
”
he barked.
“
Nay, no kirtle. To the flesh, for you are not a good wife.
”

Anne could no longer look around the room. She prayed. She felt Jane retreat to safety.

“
Do not forget, my lord,
”
she said.
“
Alert the villeins that the Countess of Ayliffe does penance.
”

“
Aye,
”
he shouted, throwing an arm wide to the room in general.
“
Announce my lady to the streets of Ayliffe!
”

“
And a candle? As with Mistress Shore?
”

“
Mistress Jane,
”
he bellowed.
“
Bring the lady a candle.
”

He waited while people hesitated. Looking directly at Clifton and not daring to look around, she quietly said,
“
My lord ad
dresses his wife –
do as he orders.
”

Slowly, but finally, a long taper arrived before her, but Jane could not meet her eyes. Anne felt sympathy for her friend. This was the first woman to attend her, to notice the young breeding in her. Her body was different now, heavier, sagging in places where once she was firm. She had given birth to large babies and there were sweet, memorable months of nursing them. Hers was not a girl
’
s body, but a woman
’
s. She wondered if this punishment was likely to hurt some of the onlookers more than her. She heard the door to the hall open and she bravely turned to see who went. It was Sir Gravis, a seasoned knight who had been at Ayliffe since Brainard was a baby.

“
Sir Gravis,
”
she hailed.
“
Do be certain that all the village is informed.
”

He did not turn to look at her, but she saw his lips quiver in what might have been a tempted smile. Clifton, swollen on his mission, did not notice.
“
Rest assured, my lady,
”
Sir Gravis replied.

He is one,
Anne thought
. There were ten thousand here –
it was difficult to know, precisely, who would side with her over Clifton. She counted on Gravis.

“
The kirtle?
”
she asked.

“
Keep it, then,
”
he grumbled.
“
You are no worse than the strumpet Shore.
”

Slowly she let out a sigh of relief, but the kirtle was sheer. He had not allowed her much.

“
The shoes, madam. Your feet will be bare.
”

She kicked off her shoes. Her hair was thinner than it had been in her youth, though it was still long. It did not cover her well. Two panels of dark hair hung over her shoulders to cover her small breasts, the back covering her posterior, but she was shamefully exposed and her cheeks were on fire, despite her determination.

“
Walk,
”
he instructed, gloating in his dominance.

She turned from all those gathered in the hall, leaving them all at Clifton
’
s mercy, and left the hall. She sensed that the courtyard was nearly abandoned, but pride would not yet allow her to lift her gaze to be sure. She heard distant shuffling and whispering as she moved down the road from the central hall, through the inner bailey, under the portcullis, toward the church, into the village. The sun was making its downward path. It would take two hours to traverse this one road. She took a deep breath and tried to stop her shaking. She watched her feet, but even so the jagged pebbles cut them. It never even occurred to her to try to cheat the punishment, although Clifton did not follow her and she might safely stop walking, wait out the time, and return to the hall. But she opted to let the people see that she could be commanded, even mistreated, by her hus
band.

Ah, Sir Cliff,
she thought.
Once you would have let my shoe be wet by your blood to keep me safe and honored, and now you have cast off the last piece of dignity either of us could have claimed. For what? For Ayliffe? You divide our people, perhaps not in your favor. For Richard? Perhaps he will be king long past our deaths, but to what end do you do this?

And a boy who calls you father, who once would have ridden into hell to free you, will now abandon you as you torture his mother. In your last days of life, do you mean to prove your strength? There is more strength, my lord, in yielding twine than in brittle metal. Beware.

After she passed through the portcullis, she dared to look around. A smile of vain pride graced her lips. The doors to th
e village huts were shut tight –
light did not protrude from their windows. She scanned the mighty Ayliffe wall. Gravis had done his chore well. She saw only backs of the men by the dusk light of the cressets. No one looked on her shameful walk. And if anyone looked, she wished to know who. Of ten thousand men, ten thousand more women and children, she did not meet more than a dozen mocking stares, and she knew each of those by name. So she walked. And walked. She was paying her penance to Clifton, collecting her reward from her people.

There was a face in the donjon she could not see. It would have ripped her heart from her if she had. Gage wept bitterly at the single candlelight moving slowly through the village below him. He knew her feet w
ould be bloodied from the walk –
her spirit possibly broken. He could not fathom the perversity that would cause a man to do such a thing to his own wife. He swore to himself that he would never let Clifton abuse his mother again.

The sun had long since set when Anne returned to the main hall. As she entered she was
surrounded by quiet –
the room was vacant of spectators and her husband was left sprawled in drun
ken slumber in his mighty chair. Her feet were cut and bleeding and her candle had burned to a nub.

She slowly climbed the stairs, tears from the pain coursin
g
her cheeks.
Cliff, oh Cliff, you have lost them, all of them,
she thought. The men who guarded her door did not raise their eyes to behold her in her shame, but one leaned aside to open her chamber door. Jane ran to her, embracing her and crying.

“
Be brave, my Jane,
”
she consoled her.
“
Tend my feet and
bring me food. Do not cry. It is too late for all that.
”

* * *

The sun was high up when he roused. At first he did not know the hour, but by squinting through the window into the inner bailey and judging the progress of the village, the con
dition of the common room, he suspected he had been left in his chair until almost noon. His skin prickled, his eyes burned, and he dashed from the hall, through the long, dim gallery, to the rear of the keep. There he threw open the door and vomited.

Clifton
’
s insides were wrenched with pain. He had killed a goodly cask, he reminded himself. He cursed his age, when he was young he
’
d never shown nor felt the effects of too much win
e. It had never made him drunk –
it had never delayed him from early rising, nor from a full, vigorous day. It was a curse to become old. He was seven and forty. He believed he would die soon. He hoped he would die on his horse with a bloody weapon in his hand, but he was sore afraid he would simply fail to wake up from one of those bad nights.