Authors: J. E. Christer
“I’ve a complaint to make to you, Mother...” Giselle began importantly, and was taken off-guard as another slap was delivered to her cheek, this time from the
Mother Superior who had risen sharply and leaned over the barrier between them.
“You will speak when
I
tell you, and not before. Do we understand each other,
my lady
?”
Giselle was
rendered speechless once again by the swiftness of the delivered hand and held her smarting cheek, trying not to let the tears fall which had gathered in her eyes.
“Do we understand each other?” The question came again.
Giselle nodded dumbly losing the battle to stop the tears flowing, but croaked, “Why are you doing this to me, Mother? What have I done to provoke such treatment?”
The Mother Superior walked around the desk and nodded to Sister Margaret to leave them. “Wait outside, please, Sister,” she added a
nd the nun moved to obey.
Feeling totally abandoned, Giselle watched as the other woman circled her and then heard her sigh heavily.
“You ask what you have done? Let me explain to you why you are here and the reason for your supposed mistreatment. Sit down!” she commanded.
Giselle moved to sit in front of the desk and the Mother Superior returned to her chair and observed the sniffling woman who had caused such havoc at the Hall at Bertone.
“My lady Hilde has been a steadfast friend to this house of God since her marriage to the late lord. I understand from Father Matthew, Erik, whose family also benefit the people here, and the Norseman who brought you, that you have systematically destroyed the lady Hilde’s life. You have set out to demoralise her body and her mind since your arrival, and she is now teetering on the point of death. You have stolen from her and her daughter, and even caused physical harm to the lady Juliana by pushing her into the fire. Now you tell me if these are the acts of a sane person?”
Giselle stared at the woman in front of her.
“You don’t understand, Mother,” she said as if explaining something to a child, “I am a Norman and therefore I am
superior
to all of you here. You are a conquered people and yet you refuse to submit to your betters. That old woman, Hilde, who is so precious to
you
, is worthless to
me
. Why shouldn’t she share her garments with me? What use are such gowns to her now her husband is dead? And as for that fawning daughter of hers, what Ulfric sees in
her
I’ve no idea. She’s insipid and her former lover, Erik, makes cows eyes at her all the time. Wait till I tell Ulfric about that!”
The Mother Superior gazed at Giselle whose colour had risen to match her spirit. “You are a foolish woman, my lady. I see now why they were so insistent that you stay with us here. Once you have learned gratitude and humility I will speak to Father Matthew, but until then you will stay here with us. You will have no visitors and will work alongside the sisters, in the kitchen, in the gardens, and you will join us in prayer every four hours. You will begin by cleaning your own room. I understand you don’t like vermin, so now’s your chance to get rid of them. After that you will go to the kitchen and help
the sisters prepare the midday repast. If you disobey any of their orders then you’ll be returned to your room with no food. If you continue on the course you seem determined to follow, you will only be hurting yourself. Sister Margaret will show you where the brooms are kept and you can draw water from the well outside. But before I let you go, there is one thing that all sisters have to submit to when entering here.”
Giselle watched in horror as a large pair of rusted shears were produced from under the apron of the Mother Superior.
“No, Mother, not that! I beg you – don’t cut my hair off!”
“It will be beneficial in the long run, now
be still or I might cut you.”
Giselle cried out against the blades and Sister Margaret had to come back into the room to help subdue her. Mother Superior hacked off the long tresses and threw them on the floor. It was not done neatly and because of Giselle’s squirming and fighting there were bald patches interspersed with short tufts of hair when they had finished.
“Put on this cap and you can go now,” the Mother Superior said handing her a grey, linen square of material and dismissed her into the care of Sister Margaret who was told to show Giselle how to fold the material into a cap.
Giselle moved to
the door in quiet acquiescence. She would clean her room, she thought defiantly, but they would have a long wait before she lowered herself to take part in domestic chores. Fortunately, there were no mirrors or bright surfaces where she could see herself but when she ran her fingers through her hair she could feel her scalp in too many places.
Chapter 18
“Do you know how much I hate you?” Juliana snarled between gritted teeth.
“I don’t care how much you hate me, because you’ll soon be mine and I’ll be your lord and master and you will submit to
me
,” sneered de Gant.
“You can do as you wish but I will not consent to be your wife under any circumstances.”
“That won’t stop me,” he replied confidently.
Juliana stamped her foot on the snowy ground and turned her back on the Norman. He jerked her head round with the lead attached to the collar causing her to grimace with pain.
In temper she grabbed the lead and jerked it hard causing Sir Richard to slip on the ice underfoot and land at her feet. A smile crept onto her face and eventually she was holding her sides laughing but a sudden pain caused her to clutch at her stomach. Her face turned as white as the snowy landscape and she fainted away. When she recovered her wits, she found herself in the arms of her antagonist and incapable of escape.
“Are you ill, Juliana? You’ve been sick and deathly pale since we began our journey.”
Juliana was surprised by his concern and knew she would have to tell him about her pregnancy. Her stomach had begun to swell and her waist had thickened over the months they had been travelling but she had hidden herself in her cloak hoping he would not notice.
Taking a deep breath and struggling
away from him she looked him in the eyes, “I’m with child, Sir Richard.”
“No! How can you be? I haven’t touched you in all this time.
”
“T
he child is Ulfric’s, not yours, imbecile!”
Her words sank into his befuddled brain and
he turned on her angrily, pushing her away as he spoke, “I wanted you to be my wife. I would have given everything to you; all my land in Normandy would have been yours, I would have shared my wealth with you but you have deceived me!” He rose to his feet and jerked her off the ground with a cruel yank of the leather collar. He strode away from her muttering to himself and she thought he had at last lost his mind entirely. He stopped in his tracks and returned to her side, thrusting her to the ground once more. A hefty kick was delivered to her back and she held her arms in front of her to protect her baby, assuming a foetal position as she did so. He cursed her existence and punched her arm, kicking her again when she least expected it. His attack went on for what seemed like hours, but was in fact only five very painful minutes. His last kick was to her head which brought her oblivion from the pain at last.
The weak afternoon sunshine was low in the sky when consciousness returned. Juliana felt a sharp pain in her right arm and shoulder and she moaned as she rolled onto her back, wondering where she was. As she lay there she noticed a red stain in the snow
where her head had rested and gingerly felt with her fingers to find the offending wound. She sat up slowly, nearly passing out from the pain jagging at her limbs. Gathering her wits from the far-flung reaches of the universe where they had lingered for some time, she could not understand what she was doing out in the freezing cold with a head wound and bruises which had revealed themselves on her limbs when examined. In fact, she could remember nothing at all – not even her own name.
One thing she did know was that she ought to find some shelter or she would freeze if she had to spend a night outside. Getting to her feet, Juliana limped along an icy path which eventually led her to the city gates of York. What am I doing here?
she thought to herself and wished she could remember. Trying to concentrate on her memory she wandered into the city oblivious of her surroundings but following any lane she could find. A blinding headache caused her to stumble and almost fall before she caught herself on a stone pillar on the corner of a crossroads.
Ketmongergate,
the sign beckoned her but the strong smell of fish made her want to heave the meagre contents of her stomach back up. Another lane led her to
Swinegate,
where she was almost overcome by the stench of pigs. Reeling from one place to another she eventually found
Haymongergate
where barns full of hay welcomed her tired body and where she eventually collapsed onto a pile of sweet smelling hay where sleep welcomed her into its healing arms.
She was roughly awoken by a strong pair of arms pushing her backwards and forwards. The owner of the arms was a young man who looked down on her curiously.
“What d’yer think yer doin’ ‘ere then? ‘Ave you no ‘ome to go to?”
Juliana raised her head and swung her feet to the floor, trying to get to grips with the unfamiliar accent. “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep. Where am I?”
“Th’as in York and sleepin’ on our straw, that’s where,” he smiled in a friendly manner. “What’s yer name?”
“Er... sorry – er...” Juliana shook her head to dispel the clouds of cobwebs which seemed to have taken the place of her brain.
“Don’t thee ‘ave no name?”
Juliana burst into tears and covered her face with her hands. “’Ere don’t tek on so. Come wi’ me and
me ma will sort thee out,” the young man said.
She allowed herself to be led to a hut where a welcoming fire was lit. A small, round-hipped woman came bustling up to them and without saying a word she took Juliana’s arm and helped her to a seat by the fire.
“She dun’t know ‘er own name, ma, but she looks right poorly to me. Found ‘er in barn.”
The first thing the woman did was to remove the leather collar and lead. She leaned over Juliana and examined the bruises and wounds which were visible, especially her head wound. She patted her on the shoulder causing Juliana to flinch. “Y’erv took a right old pastin’ from somebody, that’s fer sure.”
“I’m sorry
- I can’t remember anything,” Juliana said through her sniffles. By the light of the fire she saw the woman had twinkling blue eyes and ruddy cheeks. Her smile touched her lips and lingered in her eyes as she tried to make Juliana feel at home.
“Well, I’m just ‘
Ma’ to everybody ‘ere so you can call me that,” the woman said kindly, as she thrust the poker into the fire. She went over to a small table and poured some ale into an earthenware beaker before taking the hot poker and pushing it into the ale. She handed it to Juliana who sipped the liquid, feeling it slide down and warm her insides.
“
Thank you, Ma,” she said gratefully.
“Let’s be ‘avin’ that cloak off yer and we’ll see to yer bruises.” She looked over at her son, nodding to him that he should leave, which he did reluctantly, closing the door behind him.
The fire warmed the room enough for Juliana to remove the cloak she had worn constantly during the months of her enforced journey. Her gown was torn and splashed with mud and her boots had holes in them. She still had the small knife and girdle around her waist which Ma admired. “I wish I knew where it came from, but I can’t even remember going to sleep in your barn.”
“I’m not surprised wi’ the beatin’ yerv ‘ad. I’m surprised yer can stand up. Can yer remember when babby’s due?”
Juliana gasped when she looked down and saw her swollen stomach. “I’d forgotten about that too, Ma. I feel so helpless...” Juliana dissolved into tears of frustration and anger. Ma let her cry while she went to prepare some ointment for the bruises and boiled some hot water to wash the head wound. When she returned to the fireside, Juliana had recovered herself enough to allow the woman to minister to her. When she removed her gown the full extent of her injuries became clear. Her right side and back were covered with black bruises and her arms were displaying the colours of the rainbow.
“Whoever did this must be a mad man,” Ma said with barely concealed anger. “’itting a
pregnant woman like this; ‘ee deserves to be ‘ung.”
Juliana managed a weak smile, “I agree, Ma, but I’ve no idea who he is or was.”
“Well mebbe you should stay ‘ere with me and Tom. My ‘usband was killed in uprisings last year so another pair of ‘ands will be welcome.”
Juliana smiled broadly, “I can’t thank you enough, Ma. I’ll work hard for you, I promise.”
“Aye, I know yer will. But first you’ll get some food in yer belly to feed you up and that little ‘un yer carrying.”
“Yes, I suppose it’s not the baby’s fault, is it?”