The Wise Woman Read online

  'Don't listen for me,' she said, her voice a low whisper. 'Don't hear my voice. Don't have pet names for me. Don't recognize my voice among all others. Don't listen for my singing. Don't waken when you cannot hear my breathing in the bed beside you. Don't harken for me when I am away. Don't listen for my step when I am close.'

  Delicately she stroked at one ear until it was smoothed quite away, and then she turned the doll around and stroked and rubbed the second ear until it too was gone.

  Then she put the doll on its back on her lap again and pressed her index finger to its lips. 'Don't speak to me,' she said. 'Don't whisper to me, don't sing for me, don't joke with me, don't pray for me.' With jerky little motions she scratched at Hugo's mouth. 'Don't call me,' she said. 'Don't call me. Don't dream of me and speak my name, don't wake and say my name. Don't let my name come to your lips.'

  His mouth was a smooth smear, but still Alys rubbed and rubbed at it.

  'Don't kiss me,' she said. 'Don't put your mouth on mine. Don't put your tongue to my lips. Don't lick me, or kiss me, or bite me. Don't take my body into your mouth. Don't suckle at my nipples until my breasts ache for you. Don't bite my neck or my shoulders or my belly. Don't take me in your mouth and tease me with your tongue and suck me till I cry out in pleasure and beg you to do more.'

  Hugo's mouth was a shapeless hollow. Alys had rubbed his lips until there was nothing there. The wax had melted and the mouth was eroded. An ugly little monster was all that was left of what had been a miniature copy of Hugo. An ugly little monster, blinded like some cave-dwelling fish, fingerless like an aborted baby, earless, toothless, gumless, lipless, with just a gaping hollow where his mouth had been.

  Alys laughed again and her laughter was harsh with a wild panic.

  'And now you, my Lady Catherine,' she said softly. Very gently, with infinite care, she took up the doll which was Catherine and set it on her lap beside the doll of Hugo. She turned them to face one another and jiggled the grotesque penis against the female doll. She rubbed it against the doll's mouth, rubbed it against her neck, her belly. Then she rocked them together in an obscene dance. She pressed the dolls together, and then took them apart again. She slipped the gross wax penis into the female doll, and took it out again. Then she laid the female doll on her back and pressed the male doll down on top of her so the penis slipped into the monstrous maw, and they stayed together.

  Alys took a scrap of ribbon from the purse at her girdle and fastened the two dolls together. In the firelight, the little female doll seemed to gleam with contentment, the flickering light made her cheeks pink and warm. On top of her, tied fast, was the eyeless, earless, fingerless, mouthless monster which was Hugo. Alys let them rest together on the floor at her feet and stared at the fire.

  After long, long minutes she shook herself from her reverie and bent down and took the two of them up.

  'So,' she said. 'Hugo is hot for Catherine. He cannot let her alone. He is like a man obsessed. He is a man half mad with desire. He itches constantly for the feel of his cock inside her.

  'And she…' Alys said slowly. 'She is contented. She is his beast. She is his brood mare, his whore, his dog for the whipping. He can do what he likes with her, she feels he can do no wrong. She forgets everything else -everything else,' Alys said with emphasis. 'She forgets fears and rivals and enmities because she is exhausted and drained and then filled with joy again as her husband runs back to her like a thirsty dog runs to his trough of water.'

  The bitterness of Alys' vomit was still on her tongue. She hawked and spat into the flames.

  'He looks at no other woman,' she said. She jiggled the two dolls together. 'He desires no one else. He thrusts into her as if he would fuck his way to paradise.' 'And she loves it,' she said with distaste. She held the little dolls together for a moment longer and then untied the ribbon which bound them. They fell apart at once, as if the male doll were glad to be rid of the binding. Alys frowned a little, wondering what it meant. Then she set the doll Hugo down beside his sire on the hearthstone and started to stroke the female doll's belly.

  'His seed is in you,' she said softly. 'And you conceive a boy. You get fatter, the baby grows.' Alys' clever fingers moulded the wax into a new shape. Catherine became monstrously large. 'You grow and grow,' Alys said. It sounded more like a curse than a spell for fertility. 'Nothing will stop you. No fear, no shock, no accident. You grow larger and larger and your appetites are gross. And then…' Alys paused. 'You take to your bed in labour. And from your pain and travail you bring forth a son who is the image of his father.'

  Alys paused. Her lovely face was twisted with anger and with jealousy.

  'And then you reward me,' she said sternly to the grossly swelling doll. 'You pay me a purse of gold and your blessing. You give me enough money for me to go far away, wherever I will. And you and I part and I never have to see you or your husband again.' Alys gathered the three dolls on her lap. 'The spell is done,' she told them. 'And you brought it all on yourselves. These are the destinies you desired, or the destinies you forced me into making for you. The spell is done and it starts to work this very day.'

  She slid the three into her purse again and slipped down from her stool to the hearthstone before the fire. She pulled the cloak around her and closed her eyes. Within seconds she was asleep.

  As dawn broke, and the cocks crowed and the animals called and then the people awoke, Alys slept on. She slept without dreams to remember. But all night and all the early morning, the tears welled up from under her closed eyelids in a constant unstoppable flood. And her hands remained clenched in fists, the thumb between the second and third fingers, in the old, old ineffectual sign against witchcraft.

  When the bakers' lad came in just after dawn to stoke the fire he found her there, her tangle of golden hair dirty in the ashes, and when he shook her awake and she sat up, the ashes still clung to her, so that she looked like Morach, an old woman with a wild shock of grey and white hair. Her face was dirty and in the shadowy dawn the smears looked like hard lines from years of longing and no satisfaction. The bakers' lad had never seen Alys before and he recoiled from her.

  'I beg your pardon, dame!' he said swiftly, and when she struggled to her feet he took to his heels and was off into the courtyard where the grey light of dawn made the castle appear icy and white.

  Alys followed him out of the open door as far as the well in the centre of the yard. She crooked a finger at him. 'Pull me water,' she said, her voice a hoarse croak.

  The boy came nervously towards her but stayed out of reach. 'Promise you won't hex me?' he said.

  Alys laughed, a bitter sound, and hawked and spat. 'I promise,' she said. Then she looked at him and her blue eyes gleamed with malice. 'Not this time, at any rate.'

  The boy trembled but came closer and wound down the bucket. Three times he had to drop it before it smashed through the ice in the well. Then he wound it up, filled to the brim. Alys cupped her hands and scooped up the icy water and drank greedily.

  'Now go to your work,' she said. 'But tell no one you saw me.' 'I won't, lady! I won't,' the boy promised eagerly. Alys looked at him until he nearly shrivelled with fear. 'I shall know if you do,' she said with emphasis. Then she turned away from him and went wearily to the women's quarters to wash and change her gown and comb her hair. The purse with the three candlewax dolls knocked at her thigh with every step she took.

  Eliza fell on her the moment she was through the door, with the others not far behind. 'Where have you been? You've been out all night!' Eliza exclaimed. Then, when Alys started to reply, 'Never mind that!' she said impatiently. 'Never mind! You'll never guess what's been happening here. All night! All night!'

  The other women, bright-eyed and half hysterical, collapsed into laughter. Alys felt herself smiling, catching their amusement despite her weariness. 'What?' she asked.

  'Lord Hugo!' Eliza said. 'You'll never guess. He's been here, with my lady, all night long. And we saw, we saw…'

  'Tell