Michael Jecks - The Malice of Unnatural Death

‘Your husband won’t have me leave him,’ Jen said.

‘Child, he won’t even notice you have gone,’ Alice said with conviction.

Jen had ignored that, and carried on with cleaning the bed, and after a few moments Alice had moved. For an instant, Jen thoughtthat Alice would attack her, and she prepared herself to resist and defend herself, but then she realised that Alice had leftthe room.

It gave her a feeling of satisfaction to know that her mistress had given up the cause and fled the field. Victory here wasdefinitely Jen’s. She pulled the pillow from her master’s side of the bed and drew it to her nose, inhaling deeply. So thatwas how his hair smelled: faintly acrid, but with a warmth under it, a little like a dog, she thought. Setting the pillowdown, she pummelled it fiercely to make it plump and comfortable. The other pillow received a cursory shake. There was nopoint making Lady Alice’s side welcoming. She wasn’t welcome, and that was that. Perhaps she ought to spend more time on Lady Alice’s side, because the poor woman was soon to lose her husband, position, everything, but Jen couldn’t bring herself todo it. The crabbed old bitch was as vicious as any harpy from an alehouse, and she didn’t deserve any more than she alreadygot. No, let her work on her bed herself if she wanted to. In time, perhaps she would be maidservant to Jen and Sir Matthew… but Jen would rather have someone kindly and friendly as a maid. Perhaps she could have Sarra as her personal servant? That would be much more fun.

‘Hey, you, Jen! What are you doing here?’

It was the master’s steward. He stood in the doorway with an anxious frown on his face. Jen smiled at him. ‘Making the bed,of course. What does it look like?’

‘I don’t care what it looks like, wench. You have to gather your things and go. I’ve already spoken to my lady Alice, andshe tells me you are to leave. Get your stuff, or it’ll all be burned.’

‘I don’t think Sir Matthew will be pleased to hear that you’ve done this,’ Jen warned. ‘You should be more careful who youlisten to.’

‘Sir Matthew? Child, I’ve just seen him. It was him ordered me to have you thrown out. Madam Alice had told him about you,and he wants you to go right away. Come, child, there is nothing for you here.’

Jen gaped, and fought hard, but the tears assaulted her cheeks as the import of the man’s words struck home. ‘No!’ she said,and then louder, ‘ No! ’

She ran from the room, almost knocking the steward over as she went, down the steep stairs to the ground, and thence intothe hall, where she found the sheriff talking with two other men. Hurtling to him, she threw herself at his feet.

‘Your wife, she’s told me to leave!’

‘Get off me, woman! Christ’s bones, what is the matter with you? Are you mad?’

‘She wants to separate us, Matthew!’

There were few things in the world that scared Sir Matthew. In his life he had entered the lists and won some bouts to gowith the many he had lost, but the memory of the buffeting never stopped him from trying again. He had faced the Scottishschiltroms, the mad Welsh, even some of the flower of French chivalry, while serving his lord the king, and he had never flinched. Not even at Bannockburn, when the arrows fell like rain and the men all shrieked as yard-long wandspenetrated their mail and leather and pierced them, men and knights together, squealing like hogs in their death throes. No,he had not flinched, and his courage was a matter of pride to him.

But insanity was different. In war, a man could stand with his companions against any foe, safe in the knowledge that allmust fall together if so much as one ran. All remained rooted to the spot. Yet just now, he would have fled from the room. There was something so appallingly terrifying about madness.

‘Take her away from me and throw her outside.’

‘Matthew, my love, what do you mean?’

‘Sweet Christ, just get her out of here, will you?’ he bawled at his steward, and a man at arms leaped forward to help. Thetwo men gripped her arms and started to pull her towards the door, and yet, although the two were burly enough to controlmost, she managed somehow to wrest herself away from them, and flung herself at the sheriff once more. He shifted his legsaway before she could grab them, but fast as he was, she caught hold of his rich tunic, and held it to her face, then to herthroat.

‘Please, my darling, don’t send me from your side! I only ever wished for all that was good and right for you. Throw overthe old harpy — you don’t truly love her. It’s always been me. I’ve seen it in your eyes. You love me best. You know that. You mustn’t send me off and let her win. Our love will …’

‘Christ’s pain, will you not take this mad bitch away? Must I kill her myself?’

‘Don’t speak like that, Matthew, my love, my sweeting … let me just …’

He stood and sprang away from her. It was all the time the steward needed. He and the man at arms caught her arms again, andthis time they were not going to let her fly from their grasp. They hauled her off, through the hall’s doors and into theyard. There she was pulled and thrown through the gateway into the city of Exeter itself.

‘If she tries to come back, you have my permission to kill the sow,’ the steward said to the gateman. ‘She’s mad. Completelymad. If she comes back, run her through.’

But Jen had no intention of running back. She had seen the look in Matthew’s eyes, and she knew it was not love. Fear, yes;incomprehension too. But not love. No reciprocal adoration such as she had so often thought she had seen there before. No,there was only revulsion. A loathing bordering on utter hatred.

Her life was over.

In the hall Sir Matthew wiped at his brow with a sleeve and blew out a long, nervous breath. ‘My God ! As I hope to achieve life eternal, I swear I have never been more worried by a woman than I was then. She was quite insane. Did you see her? Telling me I must throw over my own dear wife for her? Christ Jesus!’

Robert Busse nodded, and glanced at his companion. ‘So you see what importance there is in being forearmed? If you make useof Richard Langatre’s skills, you will be better able to protect yourself from her. Make no mistake, that woman would needbut a little prompting to take after you with a knife. I have seen it before, and I am sure that I will see it again. I onlypray it will not be here and with your blood and gore open to the roadside. That would be a tragic end to one who has spent his life in service.’

‘Don’t overdo it,’ Sir Matthew growled. ‘I was born three and forty years ago, Brother Abbot, and I can tell when I am beingcozened. You! Wizard! Tell me what it is that puts my life in danger.’

‘You expect me to summon a demon here, before your eyes? Do you not realise the preparation and effort that must be put intosuch a conjuration?’ Langatre said with feeling. ‘Dear God, as I live and breathe, I swear that such a service must be accompaniedby the strictest fasting and prayer. Do you think such knowledge as I possess can be called upon at a moment’s notice?’

‘I thought you fellows could hold a demon in a ring, or have demons change their appearance into the mould of a cat so thatthey might be with you at all times,’ the sheriff asserted, trying to appear casual but quickly surveying the man’s ringlessfingers.

‘Yes. However, I have no cat and, as you observe, no rings either. No, if you wish for my expertise, you will have to giveme time to prepare. However, I should have thought that the young woman’s outburst just now proves that you already have enemies.’

‘One woman? Pah!’

‘One woman who enters the city and spreads the malicious story that you were after her fine young body and deflowered herhere in the castle would be all that was needed to make a certain kind of youth wish to test himself against you. She wouldnot lack for champions.’