Authors: Karen Maitland
Raffe
thrust the parcel into his hands. 'To keep you from hunger while you wait. I'll
bring more when I come tonight.'
The
lad peered inside the sack and his mouth widened in a huge frog grin. 'Thanks,
master!'
He
was still grinning when he ran out through the gates.
The
morning was half gone and still Elena didn't move from the turf seat in the
garden. She crushed the leaves of the thyme and marjoram over and over, trying
to fill her head with the scent, but almost as soon as she smelt it, it seemed
to vanish again. It was like trying to hold a fistful of mist. She knew she
should go back and finish tidying the women's chamber, but she couldn't.
The
stench of sweat, the thick, sticky stains and the images of what they did in
those stalls rose up in her throat until they choked her and she had to run
outside to vomit over and over in the corner of the yard. She could not lie
down in those stalls. She couldn't lie there and let a man climb on top of her,
his wet lips on hers, his fingers probing and touching. Every morning as light
crept too soon through the shutters, her first thought was, would it be today?
Not today, Holy Virgin, I beg you, don't let them make me do it today.
She'd
barely slept these last few nights since Raffe's visit and when she had closed
her eyes, images whirled in her head: Athan in the arms of another woman; men
pawing at her own body; Osborn walking towards her holding out a noose in his
hands. And over and over a drumbeat of words pounded in her head: a year and a
day,
a year and a day!
She
gave a convulsive sob and tore again at the herbs where she sat.
'Did
a man hurt you?' a voice whispered. She jumped. Finch was crouching close
beside her. She hadn't even noticed him.
She
shook her head, her throat too tight to speak.
Finch
pulled at some grass blades. 'They hurt boys sometimes.'
'You,
have they hurt you?' Elena's own self-absorbed misery vanished instantly in her
concern for him.
Finch
didn't answer, but continued tearing at the grass. Then he looked up. 'I could
show you that secret now.'
She
tried to smile. 'Not now, maybe another time.'
He
touched the back of her hand lightly with his grubby finger. 'Please,' he
begged. You'll not be sad then.'
She
was about to refuse again, when she saw the pleading in his bright blue eyes.
She was too tired even to think up a reason to refuse. Besides, it would delay
the moment when she had to return to that chamber. She allowed herself to be
pulled by the small boy, as a carthorse allows a puny human to guide it.
Finch
led the way across the garden to the chamber where the little boys entertained
their customers. Elena shuddered as she entered, and averted her eyes from the
stalls, but the room was deserted, for it was too early for customers to come
knocking. Finch stopped at one of the stalls, pushing his hand under the straw
pallet and pulling out a small stick. At first Elena thought that was his
secret treasure, and though she could see nothing special about it, was about
to play along with whatever he was pretending it to be, when the boy set off
again.
'Come
on,' he urged. 'It's this way.'
Meekly
she followed the tousled blond head until they reached the back of the room,
where a great wooden pillar was set against one side of the wall. Finch tugged
her into the alcove behind it. Even though she had cleaned this room before,
Elena had never noticed that there was a low doorway behind the pillar, set at
an angle which made it impossible to see from the rest of the room.
The
boy glanced back to make certain they were alone, then he slid his fingers
across the door until he found a small hole on one side. Now Elena understood
the reason for the stick, for he wiggled it into the hole and she heard a latch
being lifted on the other side. The boy slid in as soon as the door swung open,
pulling Elena with him in such haste that she barely had time to duck to avoid
hitting her head on the low archway.
She
found herself standing at the top of wide curved steps leading downwards. A
terrible stench wafted up from below, that instantly made her eyes sting and
water. It was the stench of a midden — shit, urine, rotting meat and something
else she couldn't quite recognize.
A
single torch burned on the wall half-way down.
'Come
on,' Finch whispered.
Seeing
Elena hesitate, he slipped his little warm hand into hers. 'Don't be afeared.
I'll look after you.'
Every
instinct was telling Elena to back out as quickly as she could, but she firmly
told herself that if a little boy was bold enough to go down those steps, there
couldn't be anything much to fear at the bottom.
Elena
pressed her hand to the wall to steady herself as they descended. The rough
stones were dripping with water. They passed beneath the flames of the torch
and at last she felt solid ground beneath her feet. They were in a long, low
chamber that curved away to the left. The flames from the torch on the stairs
barely illuminated the first few yards. The flagged floor tilted slightly
towards a hole in the floor on one side of the chamber steps, more than big
enough for a man to climb through, and the moisture from the walls ran in
little rivulets towards it, falling in a pattern of loud, resonant drips into
the dark maw below.
But
it was not the sound of the dripping that captured Elena's attention. She could
hear something moving beyond the curve of the cellar wall, as if someone was
shuffling through straw.
'Is
there someone here?' she whispered to Finch.
She
was answered by a low, deep-throated growl coming from somewhere ahead. She
started back, but Finch was quicker.
He
darted past her and back up the stairs and, for a moment, Elena feared this was
a trick, and he had lured her down to lock her in, but moments later he
returned with a lit rush candle in his hand, carefully shielding the dim light
from the draught of his movement with his other hand. He walked a few paces
around the curve of the wall and held up the pitifully feeble light.
'Look
there.'
The
light did not penetrate far, but something caught it. Two great glowing spots
blazed out in the darkness and, with an icy rush of fear, Elena realized they
were a pair of eyes. The deep-throated growl rumbled again, echoing through the
chamber, only to be answered by a snarl from somewhere deeper in the shadows.
Elena
gasped in horror and tried to run towards the stairs. She slipped on the slimy
wet flags and, tumbling over, landed in a heap. She scrambled to her feet,
trying to catch the boy's hand and pull him up the stairs, but Finch resisted.
'But
you haven't seen them properly yet. It's all right; they can't harm you.
They're in cages. See?'
He
edged forward and Elena, her legs trembling, followed him, her hand gripping
the small boy's shoulder ready to pull him back out of harm's way. Finch swung
the flame to his left. A stout iron cage was set against the oozing wall and
inside a large creature was padding back and forth in the small space. The
floor of the cage was littered with large gnawed bones and, by the stench of
it, a good deal of dung.
Elena
moved closer, trying to make out the grey shape in the smoking light of the
rush candle. It turned its head towards her and snarled, baring its sharp white
teeth. Elena had seen such a beast only once before in her life, and then it
was dangling lifeless from a hunter's pole. As a child she'd been disappointed,
for the dead creature had looked not much more fearful than a large dog, but
now, as she saw the living beast and watched the muscles rippling in its
shoulder, smelt its hot breath and felt the amber glow of its eyes fix on hers,
she understood for the first time why men shuddered at the mention of a wolf.
Without
warning the wolf hurled itself at the iron bars. Elena stumbled backwards into
something hard. She felt something snatch at her skirts and whipped round,
almost falling again as she found herself staring into a second cage. She had
never seen anything like it before. The creature reared up roaring, its massive
paws clawing at bars inches from her face. The great head of the beast was
surrounded by a mane of yellowish-brown fur. A long, black-tipped tail lashed
angrily back and forth. Elena ran from between the two cages and flung herself
back against the wall of the cellar, her heart pounding in her ears.
'What
is that beast?'
'That
is a lion,' a voice answered, but it wasn't Finch's.
The
tiny figure of Ma Margot was standing at the foot of the stairs. She held a
lantern in her hand. In the light shining up from below her face became a
grinning skull.
With
a cry, Finch dropped the rush candle on the floor and rushed to hide behind
Elena, clinging to her skirts.
'You're
wise to hide from me, Finch,' Ma said sternly. You have not been given
permission to come here.'
The
boy gave a little whimper. Elena slid her arm behind her and held his hand.
'It's
not the child's fault. I'm to blame. I made him bring me.' She tried to sound
defiant, but her breathing was still ragged from the shock of seeing the
creatures.
Ma
smiled, as if she didn't believe a word. 'You want to be careful down here.'
She
pointed to the great dark hole in the sloping cellar floor. 'Bottomless, that
well is. They say the merchant who built this place thought his young bride was
spending too much time with her confessor. He reasoned she couldn't have that
many past sins to tell, so she must be committing new ones and he knew it
wasn't with him. So he caught the young priest and brought him down here to do
a little confessing of his own.
'He
lowered the priest into the hole, to loosen his tongue, but when he came back a
few hours later and hauled up the rope the merchant found it had snapped in
two. The merchant's wife was beside herself when she heard the priest had
drowned and threw herself down the hole after him. At least, that's what the
merchant told everyone, which, like he said, proves they were guilty. But who's
to say for sure, for their bones are still down there.'
Elena
shuddered and Finch pressed himself into her skirts more tightly.
Ma
watched them, a slight smile of satisfaction flitting across her mouth. 'I
prefer it that no one comes here, for I would hate my poor creatures to be
teased or goaded. But since you are here already you may as well see them.'
She
raised the lantern and Elena saw that in her other hand she carried a basket.
As she approached the wolf's cage, his snarls changed to excited little yelps.
Ma handed the basket to Elena. Elena, thinking it light, having seen Ma carry
it easily with no effort, staggered under the unexpected weight of it.
Ma
pulled out a raw and bloody shank of mutton from the basket and tossed it over
the top of the bars. The wolf seized it and dragged it off to the far corner of
the little cage, where it began to gnaw at the bone.
Ma
turned around to the lion whose pacing had become even more excited. It rubbed
its shaggy head against the bars and Ma stroked the rough mane before tossing a
haunch to it too. The great cat lay down with the meat between its paws,
licking the flesh with a great rasping tongue.
'That
is a lion?' Elena whispered. 'But I've seen lions on banners and they don't
look like that.'
'The
golden lion, no doubt, King Richard's standard.' Ma chuckled. 'Men have a way
of making the creatures they fear into gods. They put them on pillars, cover
them with gold, worship them and by doing so think they have tamed them, but
they will not be tamed. Beasts and monsters, God or the
Devil,
they're all the same, my darling, and they have only one purpose, to kill and
destroy. Don't you ever forget that.'
Ma
led the way further round the curving chamber. Beyond were more cages. An eagle
flapped its useless wings in one, in another a brown bear sat upright on its
haunches, its piggy little eyes staring with malice at them as they passed.
Some of the creatures crouched in the shadows at the back of the cages, their
fur as black as the tunnel itself, and Ellen could see little of them except
their glowing eyes. But to each one Ma gave a portion of raw meat.