The Gallows Curse (11 page)

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Authors: Karen Maitland

BOOK: The Gallows Curse
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    'Why
not land at Yarmouth? Now that it is a free port, King John no longer has a
garrison there.'

    'But
he does have spies in the town. More so now that it's no longer under his rule.
He wouldn't trust the Virgin Mary herself if she came from Yarmouth.' He gave a
snort of mirthless laughter. 'The ship will moor in the town eventually, pay
its tolls and let the Yarmouth men examine its trade cargo, but it will have
discharged its real cargo long before it sails into harbour.'

    'We
can trust this informant, you're sure?' the first voice asked anxiously.

    'He
fought in the Holy Land with us. He's more than a brother to me and we believe
in the same cause, with good reason, as you well know. He hates the whole
Devil's brood of the Angevins even more than you do and won't rest till he sees
that bastard John's murderous head on a pike. Besides, you cannot know a man
for so many years without becoming privy to a few secrets that he would not
want spread abroad. It never hurts to remind one's friends of that from time to
time, don't you find?'

    'Are
you threatening me? Because if you are I swear I'll cut your treacherous tongue
from your mouth!' There was a loud crash as if a chair had been violently
kicked over on to the wooden floor. The noise startled Elena and she jerked
back, hitting her elbow against the iron ring on the door, and she cried out in
pain before she could stop herself.

    At
once she heard the sound of footsteps hurrying towards the door. She turned and
fled across the candlelit solar.

    She
had just reached the tapestry that concealed the entrance when she heard the
door of the bedchamber flung open.

    A
voice behind her bellowed, "Wait! You there, what's your name? Come here!'

    But
Elena did not stop or even turn her head to see who was calling her. She
slipped behind the tapestry and stumbled as fast as she could down the spiral
staircase as if the Devil himself was flying after her.

    She
fled across the darkened courtyard towards the kitchens, narrowly avoiding
knocking a laden dish out of a scullion's arms, though she did not escape his
curses. The kitchens resembled a wasps' nest that had been kicked open. Men and
women were screaming and bellowing at one another as they ran back and forth,
basting, stirring, pouring and slicing. Sweat poured down the faces of the boys
turning the spits on the great fires on which whole carcasses of fowls and
beasts roasted, their skins bubbling and spitting as the juices ran from them.

    Elena
wriggled her way to the back and pretended to busy herself arranging lampreys
in a pie dish, while darting anxious glances towards the open door, but whoever
it was who had called out to her from the chamber had either given up the chase
or lost her before she reached the kitchens, for no one but the servants
hurried in or out.

    Though
she was still fearful of encountering the man in the courtyard, Elena dared
hide no longer. If Athan couldn't find her, he might leave believing that she
couldn't get away after all, and she had to meet him tonight. Something . . .
something in her head with the persistence of a wailing infant was demanding it
must be tonight.

    She
scurried across towards the barn, pulling back hastily into the shadows as she
glimpsed a man caught momentarily in the light from one of the blazing torches
on the wall of the courtyard. But he was hurrying out towards the manor gate
and did not so much as glance in her direction. He looked like a friar from his
robes, the sort that wandered from village to village begging. Elena wondered
fleetingly how much alms a friar could have hoped to have begged from Osborn's
drunken men. He'd probably been thrown out with a kick instead of a coin. As
soon as he was occupied with old Walter, the gatekeeper, she made for the barn
and slipped inside.

    'Elena?'

    Athan
lifted the lantern high, throwing an oily yellow light about the barn as Elena
hurried towards him.

    'Hold
it low, Athan, do you want the whole manor to see? You shouldn't have brought a
light.'

    'Don't
care if they do, we're doing nowt wrong,' Athan muttered, but he lowered the
lantern all the same.

    Elena
slipped her hand into his and led him towards some wool bales in the furthest
corner. The field hands had deliberately stacked the bales proud of the wall to
create a space behind it, large enough for a man to bed a maid in secret, two
at once if he could find any lasses willing, and there were always a few who
enjoyed such games. But there were no sounds of giggling coming from behind the
wool bales now, all the servants were occupied with dinner in the Great Hall,
either eating, cooking or serving it, so Elena prayed that she and Athan would
be left undisturbed for an hour at least.

    Safe
behind the bales, Elena slipped her arms around Athan's waist and held her
mouth up to be kissed. He bent and kissed her with such a hungry passion, it
was as if they had not laid eyes on each other for years. Elena felt the same
shiver of pleasure race through her body as the very first time they had kissed
over a year ago at the Michaelmas Fair.

    Athan
gently fingered one of the flame-red curls of I Plena's hair. 'Mam knows about
the bairn.'

    Elena
stiffened.

    Athan
added hastily, 'But you needn't fret, she knows to say nowt in case the rumour
gets back to the manor.'

    'Is
she . . . pleased?'

    He
gave her a wan smile. 'Course she is, course. Why wouldn't she be? Proud as a
May Queen. It's her grandson in there.' He cupped his broad hand gently over
Elena's belly. 'Or granddaughter,' he added quickly.

    Elena
wanted to believe him, but Athan was a hopeless liar. It was one of the many
things she loved about him.

    Outside
in the yard there was a crash and clattering followed by a stream of oaths. One
of the scullions had likely dropped one of the great platters down the stone
steps. She hoped for the sake of his skin it was empty. But it reminded Elena
they didn't have much rime.

    She
snuggled closer into Athan's chest, revelling in the earthy tang of his skin.
If she could get back up to the chamber straight away after they'd made love,
she could feed the mandrake there. In many ways that might turn out better than
if she succeeded in bringing it to the barn. Athan might have seen the bundle
and become curious. She didn't want to tell him about the dream, not yet, not
until she knew what it meant.

    Athan
held her face and kissed her tenderly again for such a long time it seemed as
if his lips refused to be parted from hers, but his hands did not slide down to
her buttocks to pull her closer, nor did he try to stroke her breasts as he had
done when they were first stepping out together. It was as if he was suddenly
afraid to touch her body.

    Elena
faltered. This wasn't going at all as she had planned. She'd thought this would
be easy. When they were courting, she was the one who'd pushed him away when
his hands wandered too freely. And even when they finally made love, she had
only to respond to his caresses. She'd never had to arouse him before and she
realized she had little idea how go about it. Athan had been her first and her
only lover.

    She
pressed her body tighter against him, conscious of the swelling bump of her
belly pushing between them. As if he felt it too, he drew away from her. A
shiver of doubt made her tremble.

    'What's
wrong, Athan? I thought you'd be pleased to be alone with me. It's been so long
since we got the chance.'

    'I've
been trying to see you, you know I have.'

    'Then
why won't you hold me like you used to?'

    He
looked down at her stomach, pressing his fingers to her belly reverently like a
pilgrim touching a precious reliquary. 'Mam warned me not to go messing with
you while you're in this condition. She says if a woman's blood gets hot it can
addle the bairn inside her.'

    'That's
nonsense,' Elena said. 'If that were true there'd not be a babe born alive in
this land. You think all the other men do without for nine months? Course they
don't, and it doesn't do their bairns any harm.'

    'Mam's
only trying to do what's best,' Athan protested. 'It's her grandson after all
and she'd be heartbroken if he should come to harm.'

    'Your
mam's only told you that to keep you away from me,' Elena snapped. 'Everyone in
Gastmere knows she hated your father. I bet she told him sleeping with a
pregnant woman would harm the baby just to make him take his hands off her.'

    Athan
shuffled uncomfortably. There was no denying that although his mother raged at
him, at the neighbours and at any passing stranger that her husband was a
'whoring, feckless son of a strumpet', she could barely conceal her relief when
he did stay out all night instead of lurching drunkenly home to her door.

    Elena
was shaking, but she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. They mustn't
quarrel. She mustn't drive him away. She wanted Athan desperately, wanted to
feel his arms holding her, and his hot, bare flesh against her own. She hadn't
realized how much she needed the physical intimacy of his body until he had
kissed her.

    But
being kissed wasn't enough. If Athan didn't make love to her, where was she to
get the white seed? Gytha had said I he mandrake must be fed before it would
speak — her blood and a man's white milk - or it wouldn't reveal anything.
Tears
of
frustration began pricking her eyes, which only increased her
misery.

    Athan
looked panic-struck, as young men do when faced with a weeping woman. He
grabbed Elena's shoulders and held them tightly at arm's length as if he feared
she was going to hurt herself or him.

    'Please
don't cry, Elena. I can't bear to see you miserable.

    God
in heaven, if you only knew how much I want you! You think this is easy for me?
You've no idea how hard it is to resist you. You're all I think about when I'm
working in the fields or lying in my bed at night. Half the time, I don't even
know what the other lads are saying to me, because my head's that mithered with
you. If you knew how many times I've made up my mind to march straight into the
manor and carry you off right under their noses. And I would have done it too
if I wasn't scared of hurting our bairn. Mam says ...' He broke off, evidently
realizing just in time that this was no time for another of his mother's famous
sayings.

    Elena
scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve, took a deep breath and tried to smile. She
lifted Athan's work-callused hand, cupping it to her mouth and kissing the warm
palm. She drew his fingertips gently into her mouth, caressing the rough skin
with her hot tongue, until she felt the powerful muscles of his arm soften a
little in her grasp.

    'But
I need you, Athan. It's been so long. I lie in bed every night just wishing you
were holding me. If you're gentle and I lie still, then it can't do any harm. I
know it can't. And ...' she couldn't stop herself from adding, 'I don't want
you running off to my cousin Isabel because you can't get what you want from
me.'

    He
opened his mouth to protest against this outrageous slur, but she hastily put
her small hand over his lips.

    'If
you don't make love to me, I'll only fret myself sick that you're doing it with
someone else, and that will be worse for the bairn, won't it?'

    She
put her head on one side and tried to look up at him coquettishly as she'd seen
the other girls do when they were trying to wheedle a man round, but she wasn't
practised at it and only succeeded in looking even more like a child. But the
look was enough to make Athan laugh. Scooping her up in his arms, he laid her
gently down on the hay and began to unknot the drawstring of his breeches.

 

        

    'Where
have you been?' The old widow Hilda stepped out of the darkness of the
courtyard and grabbed Elena's arm, digging her sharp nails into the flesh.

    No,
no! Elena wailed to herself. Not now. What was the old witch doing lurking
about out here? Why wasn't she waiting on Lady Anne? Her heart thumped in panic
as she felt the slippery wetness on her thighs drying even as she stood there.
She had to get back up to the bedchamber now, before it was too late. But Hilda
was gripping her too tightly, and though Elena desperately wanted to push her
out of the way, she dared not lay hands on a free-born woman.

    'Answer
me, girl!' Hilda shook Elena, trying to wrest out an answer to her question.

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