The Wise Woman Read online

  Alys laughed unwillingly, her heart lightening despite her fear. 'Go then!' she said.

  The door banged and he was gone. Alys pulled up the covers and slid down into the warmth where his body had lain. She shrugged her shoulders against her night fears. 'I won't think about it,' she said to herself as her eyes closed. 'I won't think about it.'

  Catherine's door was open when the women came into the gallery in the morning. She was sprawled across the bed, door flung wide, waiting for them.

  'I'll have my breakfast here!' she yelled. 'You, Ruth, bring me bread and ale. I'll have some roast beef or venison, and some goat's cheese. I fasted last night and I am hungry today. Fetch it for me at once.'

  Eliza shot a quick irreverent grin at Alys. 'She's drunk!' she whispered. 'Good God, what now!'

  Alys stepped up to the door. By Catherine's bed was the jug they kept in the cupboard of the gallery; it was rolling on its side, leaving a trail of red lees over the floorboards. 'Where did you get wine, Catherine?' Alys asked. Catherine's face was flushed, her hair tousled, her eyes bright. 'Went down to the hall at dawn!' she said triumphantly. 'I can serve myself when I need, you know. I'm not some whey-faced child that they can torment. I've been Lady Catherine here for years. I kicked a page awake and he brought me dinner and wine. I've been drinking ever since.' The women fluttered behind Alys in consternation. 'Downstairs in her shift,' Ruth said softly. 'Oh dear!' Alys bit back a smile. 'You're drunk,' she said concisely to Catherine. 'You had better eat some bread and then sleep. You'll be sick enough later.'

  Catherine shook her head and pointed imperiously to her window. 'I give the orders here, Alys. I am not yet commanding a pig and a cow on the edge of the moor. I am not yet set aside and shamed for the benefit of you and whatever you carry in your belly! Go and fetch me some more wine. I'll have clary wine – that's a good wine to drink in daylight. And I'll have ale with my breakfast! And then tell them to bring me a bath. I shall bathe and wear my rose and cream gown. And I shall dine in the hall today.'

  Alys heard Eliza's giggle smothered from behind her hand. She turned around. 'She's impossible,' she said to the women. 'One of you sit with her. We'll have to do as she wishes. She'll pass out with the drink soon enough.'

  'She can't go down to dinner like this,' Ruth said, scandalized.

  Alys shook her head. 'She'll be sick long before dinnertime if she's been drinking all night.'

  'My breakfast!' Catherine shouted imperiously, with the authority of the enormously drunk. 'At once, girl!'

  No one had called Alys 'girl' for many months. Alys smiled wryly and nodded towards Catherine. 'At once,' she said with mock obedience. She closed the heavy carved door and pointed to Ruth and then Mary.

  'You fetch her breakfast, what she wanted. It makes no difference, she'll be vomiting it up in moments. And you, Mary, go to the kitchen and tell them to set water to heat, and order her a bath.'

  The two nodded. Alys led the rest of them downstairs for their breakfast, and waited in the lobby for the old lord and David to come down the stairs from the round tower. 'Good morrow, Alys,' the old lord said. Alys stepped forward and kissed his hand. David opened the door for the two of them and they entered the hall together.

  Breakfast was a meal taken without ceremony at the castle. There was too much to do in the early hours of the day for much delay. The kitchen sent out a continuous stream of messes – four-person platters of bread and cheese and cold bacon. Serving-women and men went around the hall serving ale and hot water. People came and went, with a quick bow to the high table when one of the lords was seated and dining.

  Hugo was long gone – out hunting with Stephen. Most of the soldiers were fed and at their posts by the early light. Alys sat at the lord's side and ate the best bread with him and drank a small cup of hot water with a sprinkling of chamomile on the top.

  'What's the brew?' the old lord asked. 'Chamomile,' Alys said. 'For calmness.' The lord gave a snort of amusement. 'Calmness is for the grave,' he said. 'I'd rather have panic any day. Tells me I am still alive.'

  'Then you should have been born a woman,' Alys said.

  He gave a quick guffaw of laughter. 'God forbid!' he said. 'What panics are you suffering, little Alys?'

  'Catherine,' Alys said. 'She got hold of some wine in the night and she's still carousing this morning. She thinks of coming to dinner, primped up in her best, and winning back your affection.'

  The old lord slapped the table with his hand and roared with laughter. Men taking breakfast on the nearby tables looked up, smiling, and one shouted, 'Share the jest, my lord!'

  Lord Hugh shook his head, his eyes streaming. 'Women's troubles! Women's troubles!' he called back. All the men smiled and nodded.

  'So!' he said, when he could catch his breath. 'When may I expect this seduction?'

  Alys nipped the inside of her lips to contain her irritation and sipped her tea. 'She will come down to dinner unless someone prevents it, and she will make a scene and shame herself and shame you,' she said. 'If she spews all over you and over the young lord it will not be so merry, I suppose. We cannot stop her in the gallery. We cannot order the servants not to give her wine. She will have her own way unless you order it.'

  Lord Hugh was still chuckling. 'Oh lord, Alys, don't bring me these hen-coop troubles,' he said genially. 'Give her wine and a drop of one of your sleeping herbs in the cup. Send her to sleep for a few hours and when she wakes sober and sick she'll have learned her lesson. I'll have the papers through in a few days and she can sign them and leave the castle forever.'

  'In a few days?' Alys confirmed.

  Lord Hugh nodded. 'Aye. So you can drink ale for breakfast and not handfuls of grass, my dear.' He chuckled again. 'Calmness. Oh Lord!'

  Alys smiled thinly and broke some bread on her silver plate. 'Hugo tells me you have settled on the young girl for his bride,' she said. 'The little girl of only nine?'

  Lord Hugh nodded. 'The best choice,' he said. ‘I was torn. I'd have liked to see a quick wedding, bedding and birthing, but the girl's family are the very people we need as kin. And she herself is from fertile stock. Her mother had fourteen children, ten of them sons, before she died. All before she was twenty-five!'

  'A fortunate woman indeed,' Alys said sarcastically.

  Lord Hugh did not hear. 'The wench will come and live here and we can school her as we wish,' he said. 'If you'll be kindly to her, Alys, you can stay by her and serve her. She's no fool. She's been serving as a maid in the Howard household and at court since she was seven. She'll be fit to bed at twelve I should think. I may yet see her son.'

  'And my son?' Alys pressed.

  'He'll be mine as soon as he is born,' the old lord said. 'Don't fret, Alys. If he is a strong and bonny child he'll be my heir and you can stay as long as she permits and as long as we desire. This is a good outcome for you, as it happens. Your luck follows you like your shadow, does it not?'

  'Like my shadow,' Alys assented. Her voice was low and quiet. Lord Hugh could hardly hear her. 'My luck follows like a shadow,' she said.

  He pushed his plate away from him and a page came up with a silver bowl and ewer and poured water for him to wash his hands. Another came up with embroidered linen and he dried his hands.

  'We dine early,' he reminded Alys. 'There are the rest of the trials this afternoon. I shall rest this morning. They weary me, all these stolen pigs and missing beehives. And besides, the law changes with every messenger that comes. It was better in the old days when I did just as I wished.'

  'What of the old woman?' Alys asked.

  Lord Hugh turned as he was going out of the door. 'I don't know,' he said. 'Father Stephen was talking with her again, after his supper last night. And this morning he went out riding with Hugo. She may not come to trial, Alys. It is Father Stephen's decision if she has no case to answer.' He grinned. 'She was leading him a merry dance as he told it at dinner last night. She is as learned as he and when he reproached her in Latin she defended hers