As Meat Loves Salt (70 page)

'Sister Jane, or Mistress Allen as we called her at first, came to us the day you left for London. Myself and Jeremiah went to the inn to see was there any word from you, and on the way back we came on two men and a young lad, all set upon the one woman. In broad daylight.'

I almost smiled with relief, but kept a sober face to ask who had done the thing and why.

'None knows who they were. The lad was no more than twelve, a right little spawn of Satan
he
must be! Thought she had some money, it seems, but she had none, so they beat her right in the road. When we ran up they shogged off.'

'They were three against two,' I remarked.

'Not good enough odds for them.'

So Ferris had kept his humiliation to himself. I struggled to fix my mind on Jonathan's tale and show myself properly impressed.

And Sister Jane is become one of us?'

'Oh yes.’ Jonathan’s head jerked up and down for emphasis. 'She's had to. She was in no condition to be wandering on the road — apart from being beaten, I mean. Even with one of us either side, she could hardly get along.'

'She was sick?'

Jonathan paused, enjoying himself. 'We put her with Hepsibah directly, for it seemed there was no time to be lost, and by night there was a child born.'

I gasped. 'And lived?'

'Aye, that he did! The beating brought him on too soon, but he looks set to live. God has sent us a good sign — the uplifting of the oppressed and the coming of a little child.'

It was extraordinary what I had contrived to miss in my brief time away.

A great mercy,' I remarked. ‘And will we see more of these heroes, think you? Could they be from the village?'

'Discharged soldiers, most like. Here, can you get up now?'

I took the hand he extended to me and found that I hardly needed it. 'She didn't greet Ferris,' I observed as I got to my feet.

'No, most likely feeding the child. She's not an ill-looking lass, under the black and blue, but you and I are spoken for, eh?'

Again the spear of terror through my side before common sense told me he meant Susannah. 'O, are you there? Ferris is under the same mistake,' I told him. 'You'll find out your folly in time. By the way, what of the other sister? Is she betrothed to Hathersage?'

"That you must ask her.' He smiled at me. "There, a better colour in your cheeks. I'd best get back to my chopping.'

'Many thanks, Jonathan.’ Again I turned to the pack and this time emptied it apart from the precious washballs.

Making for the door, I met Ferris coming in with his own pack. He stepped round me without a word, and I thought,
If you want me to beg you will wait a long time.
Yet had he said to me,
Beg,
I would have thrown myself on the ground, and I walked away from the tent straining my ears lest he should call me back.

Some of the washballs I had meant to give to him. Instead I packed them in my bedstraw, hoping they would not be eaten by the little creatures God sends to torment us. Having hidden them I opened the hut door, and in came a fine rain. Water dripped from the turf roof and I determined I would not work in the fields that day. Something disturbed the rooks and they swirled in a cloud about the edge of the wood and settled again. The whole scene filled me

with disgust at this foolish project, the filth of our daily lives, the risk we were wantonly running from Sir George. I had blinded myself, delivered myself into the hands of the Philistines. It came to me that there is more than one kind of blindness, and I recalled the last sweet night we had passed in London, thinking that had I known it was our last I would have savoured it like a water drop in Hell. I had not known, and the joy was fled, and I had broken the thing between us. I lay on the bed, looking out at the colourless sky, and gave myself up to sorrow.

'Will you eat?'

Someone was standing at the door of the hut, a woman; that much I could make out though it was almost dark. I blinked and thought I recognised Susannah's build.

'Jacob, will you eat? I kept some back for you. Jonathan says you fainted.'

'Not exactly.' It was indeed Susannah. Behind her, a couple holding hands, who must of course be Catherine and Wisdom.
Only wait, my turtledoves,
I thought. It
never lasts.

'Are you ill?' Susannah went on. 'Jacob?'

I sat up and considered my condition. The headache of the morning had unclenched and there was a sensation of faint hunger where before had been nausea.

'Rabbit,' came Hathersage's voice. 'Jeremiah worked the snares while you were away.'

At least it was not beans. I stood up and stretched. "Thank you, friends.'

We squelched over the sodden grass, trying not to slip. I wondered if I must now square myself to having Susannah, and not Ferris, as my dearest friend. That would be walking on wooden legs, and I would choose London and Harry rather than bear it, or rather not choose, for I
could not
bear it.

The fire was lit and most folk, having eaten, were sprawled about in talk. Jonathan was singing and though his voice was sweet he had much ado to remember the words, so that I ended by wishing he would stop. It was like the army, looking round at everyone but seeking only one. He was nowhere to be seen, and I sat among my
brothers and sisters
eating my heart out with a pain I could not share.

Susannah put a bowl of boiled rabbit and greens on the damp grass next to my hand. 'Come, get this down and you'll feel better.'

'Will I?'

I took up the bowl however, and a spoon she had brought me, having now lost the one he gave me at Winchester. The meat was not bad, and - wonder of wonders - there was enough of it.

'Jeremiah has luck with the snares,' I remarked.

'Not bad,' she replied. Then, touching my sleeve very softly so that none but us two perceived it, she went on, 'Brother Christopher eats nothing.'

I considered this, and her touch, in silence. Jonathan began on a new song.

'Supposing a friend carried a message?'she asked softly.

My throat tightened at this kindness. 'Then you would be my messenger, Susannah. But there's nothing to be done.'

'Pray,’ she advised me. 'Pray, and wait.'

I wanted to ask,
Pray to the Devil?
For surely God could not want things mended between him and me.

As if reading my mind, she went on, 'Implore God for the best thing for all of us. What that best thing is, let Him decide.'

'I am so sinful, have such difficulty in humbling myself to His will,’ I replied, half smiling.

'We're all in the same boat there,' she said. 'As for humbling you, He can bring that about without your aid.'

'Food
and a
sermon,’ I teased her. 'My thanks for all of it.'

'Here, have some cheat.' She offered me a chunk of the hard bread. 'I have been thinking of you this last week.'

'Of me?'

'I was reading in my Bible and I made of note of the place, look,' and she pulled out something from her bosom. I looked surprised and she laughed. 'I do take things out as well as put them in. The washballs are gone.'

I took the piece of paper she offered me but could not read it in the dark, so folded it and put it up my sleeve.

'He comes,' Susannah whispered. 'Behind you.' I could not resist

turning my head, and saw him crossing the field towards us, the fire picking out his yellow hair. He must have seen me also, for he stopped and sat down where he was rather than come near. There was a woman with him.

"That's Sister Jane,’ said Susannah, who had followed my gaze.’ We thought it right to take her in for she was in such a state, but we said she could not stay unless Brother Christopher agreed.'

'When we began, I thought we were to do without kings,' I said. 'Wasn't that his idea?'

'Unjust, Jacob. I would not call him a king.' She turned here eyes on the two off them seated at the edge of the firelight. 'They look to be friendly. I'd say he will keep her.'

'He has always detested violence.’ Thus I laid the stripes on myself, a man like a beast, who should marry with the beasts. All I needed was a Bible, where I might search out Susannah's chapter and verse, to find myself back at Basing.

God would have His will one way or another. In Heaven is no giving in marriage, but a Jonathan might find his Hepsibah there and smile in her face for all eternity. Even cut loose from the flesh, I was sure that Ferris's soul and mine would never so much as join glances. It is said the Devil devises particular and peculiar tortures for unnatural lovers; perhaps whenever one man looks, the other is looking away. Forever.
That
was already begun, in Ferris's avoiding me. I deserved it, I was wrathful, and my very love a violation. Suppose I had never spied on Nathan sleeping in his arms, would we now be virgin to one another? Would he have left me in the army? I could not find it in me to wish the thing had never happened, which is to say I could not repent of the sin. My foul heart clung to it.

There was a noise like a cat and I twisted round until I saw it was the woman's child, bundled in her lap. To her, I guessed, I must show as nothing but a black outline and I took the chance to study her more carefully. She wore a greyish dress which I thought I had seen on Catherine, but I could see little of her person. She looked to be as blonde as Ferris, the hair bunching in knots.

Ferris said something to her and then glanced over to me. I should have turned away and not shown myself watching them, but my gaze was riveted to the woman. She swung the child over her head and I

saw it was dark-skinned as a little Turk. As she raised and straightened her body to do so the firelight fell full on her face, on the rounded lips and eyes. As Jonathan said, not an ill-looking lass. As a woman Jane Allen was exactly to my taste, for I had already married her once. She was no stranger, but my own wife Caro. There was a drumming in my head, and the air was grown thick. I saw spots and swirls before my eyes.

'The sickness returns on me. Pray excuse me,' I said to Susannah, hardly knowing what I did.

'I am sorry. Remember, trust in Him.'

'In the Devil, for
His
jests are infinite,' I returned.

'My friend—' Susannah broke off as I stood up. Like a fool I was risen without thinking and as soon as I did so the distant woman saw my figure against the fire. I froze. Her head dipped towards Ferris; he gestured in my direction and seemed to speak. I saw her hand go to her neck. Raging inwardly at my own stupidity, I stumbled back to the hut. In the darkness it seemed suspended above the earth of the field. I dropped onto the straw incapable of though, something screaming
over and over in my head:
There is a child, a little dark-skinned child, O God O God O God.

I saw Sir Bastard once at Beaurepair kick a greyhound that came running up to fawn on him. It ran under the table and stayed there a full hour, sighing and turning over. Izzy said it was grieving but Zeb said more likely easing the bruises, while Godfrey's opinion was that Sir B. had split something inside and good as killed it. The beast lay staring at a chair leg. Not caring that he made himself the mock of us all, Izzy crawled beneath the table and cradled the dog's head while he waited for it to die. At the end of the hour it rose and stalked off, mysteriously mended.

Now I lay in the stifling darkness of the hut, the gentle brother who might have cradled my head lost to me. Should I go back and speak at once to Caro, before she faded like the ghost she was? But here my courage failed. Just seeing her close to Ferris had made me want to run.

Then there was Zebedee. I wondered would she sing the same

song as he had, and if not, which of them I would believe. If they had travelled together then the child was his, surely. But then, some things he had refused to tell.

I might have a son.

It came to me that here was a woman I had wronged, a woman but lately attacked on the road. Where was my compassion? I was worse than her assailants, for I was her husband. The previous summer we had crept giggling into the bridal bower, full of joyous anticipation, until I saw the horsemen coming. All her troubles since then had stemmed from me, and here I was, seemingly emptied not only of desire but also of common pity. The reason was, I had given everything to Ferris. My very walking and talking belonged to him, and yet I was one flesh with this woman.

'They look to be friendly,' Susannah had said.

I knew now what the dog had been doing as it lay apparently senseless. It had been thinking, thinking, thinking.

I woke in pain, a flickering in the base of my skull. The Voice was back, wheezing ashes, rising and falling within me so as to blot out the silent camp.

I have been watching for you.

To do me wrong, I answered. I got up off the bed; some colonist might be still awake, to bear me company.

We are best alone. Stay and learn.

The words were known to me even as they formed.

I see a serpent, wrapped about by your pity and sharpening its fangs.

The word
pity
pattered on the inside of my skull, like sand.