23
While Galin lay sick, searchers on horseback had scoured the surrounding area for traces of his assailant. But neither the outlying farms nor the inns on the highway had anything to report. No one, it seemed, had been robbed or threatened. The man had appeared from nowhere and disappeared without a trace.
Hannah was bitter now—consumed by her grief for Galin, which she must keep in check. Alis pitied her. She could not forget the way her mother’s lips had trembled at the news of the attack, or the look on Hannah’s face as she sat white and still at the bedside, holding Galin’s dead hand in hers. She wondered whether she could contrive—without mentioning Edge—to comfort her mother with the fact that Joel had meant to come home. But it might only be an added sorrow, since he had not appeared, so she said nothing.
After the funeral, her parents would have had her return to live with them but she wanted only to be alone in her own house. In the days that followed, she found herself listening for Galin’s footsteps, or thinking that she heard his voice. She prepared food and saw that she had made enough for two. He had been a quiet man, and at night she had barely heard him turn over in his bed, but now when she lay sleepless, the silence had a new quality and she wept for him. Once she lay down in the marriage bed she had never shared with him. She wished she might speak to him, just once, to tell him that she was sorry to have brought his death upon him, and in so dreadful a way.
But devastated and bewildered though she was by what had happened, Alis knew she must look to the future. Though she longed to know if Luke were still with Ellen’s friends, she did not dare try to get a message to him at first. But the delay preyed on her mind: Ellen might have been driven away, and no one else would know where Luke had gone. In the end she sent a letter to Ellen at the farm, telling her what had happened. She did not mention Luke: the letter might fall into the wrong hands.
Elzbet’s baby gurgled in Alis’s lap, sticking out its tongue and kicking vigorously. Its mother smiled proudly.
“She’s beautiful, don’t you think? And so strong. Martin says she’ll be the first girl blacksmith!”
Alis, grateful for Elzbet’s efforts to raise her spirits, made an effort to smile and agreed that the baby was both beautiful and strong. And indeed the baby was engaging—so long as it did not cry or soil itself. Then it was strong smelling, and very far from beautiful. Elzbet was laughing.
“Come, I will take her. Your face gives you away. What you will do if ever you have one of your own, I cannot think.”
They were making bread and had just taken the loaves from the oven when the prayer-house bell began to ring. They paused to listen, looking at each other in surprise. It was mid-morning: there was no prayer meeting or other activity to be signaled at such a time. But the bell went on and on. Elzbet held the baby close to her and said anxiously, “It is a summons. What can have happened, do you think?”
Alis shook her head. A general summons meant something serious—fire or danger perhaps—and was very rare.
They joined the crowd of people making their way to the prayer house, exchanging subdued greetings with neighbors, all wondering what had happened. Perhaps there was news of the man who had attacked the Minister so brutally.
Elzbet and Alis went inside and found themselves seats on the benches. Thomas and some of her town’s Elders were there watching the people as they entered but there was no sign of Hannah, and the three central places at the table where the Minister, Hannah, and her current deputy usually sat were vacant. Alis looked round for her father. She could not see him either, but he might be out at one of the farms.
When at length the bell ceased to ring and the last stragglers were seated, Thomas raised his hand for silence. Alis felt her heart beat faster. Why was Thomas taking charge? And where was her mother? If there was trouble it should be the Senior Elder who addressed the people. The door behind the Elders’ table opened and three men came in. They were strangers, dressed in dark, formal clothes and bringing with them an air of authority that seemed to subdue even Thomas. Two of them sat down, leaving one empty place in the center of the table, but the third man—not very tall, broad-shouldered, with cropped gray hair and strong, hard features—came forward to stand beside Thomas. He gestured slightly with his hand and Thomas stepped respectfully back. Then the newcomer spoke, his voice clear and rich in the hushed hall.
“People of the Community of Freeborne, the Great Council has heard of your trouble and of the sudden and terrible death of your Minister. It seems that no one has yet been apprehended for the attack, a state of things not satisfactory in so momentous a matter. We are here, therefore, to inquire into the circumstances of the Minister’s death and especially into the part that may have been played in it by a person against whom an accusation has been laid. Where is the woman who was the Minister’s wife? Is she here?”
For a moment Alis did not move. What could they know? What was she to be accused of? She must take care not to give anything away. This was Thomas’s doing, she had no doubt. He hated her because she had sided with Mistress Elizabeth over the whipping in Two Rivers, and she had challenged his beating of Peter, too. Had he somehow found out about Edge? Well, he must be faced down. She would not let him destroy her. Elzbet was gripping her hand and looking up at her in horror. Gently, she disengaged herself and stood up. “I am here.”
The stranger looked at her carefully as if committing her features to memory. “You are Mistress Alis?”
“I am.”
He paused a moment, still observing her closely. “Mistress Alis, I must tell you that an accusation has been laid against you by Master Thomas of Two Rivers, that you yourself made the attack upon your husband that resulted in his death.”
There was a gasp from the crowd. For a moment Alis did not think she could have heard him right. “You think I killed Galin?”
He shook his head. “I think nothing, Mistress Alis. I only tell you that an accusation has been made and it must be tested. And because it is so serious a charge, you must be held as a prisoner until the proceedings are complete.”
“A prisoner!” What did he mean? There was no prison in Freeborne.
“Do not fear. You will be well treated and have every means for preparing your defense. But you must see that in such a case it is not fit that the accused person should be free to steal away perhaps, or to suborn the witnesses.”
At once her temper rose. She was to be locked up while Thomas was free to do and say what he pleased. Contempt for them banished her fear briefly. Scornfully she asked, “And is my accuser also to be held as a prisoner, so that he may not suborn the witnesses?”
Again he shook his head. “Mistress Alis, you do yourself no good by speaking in such a way. You must come with us to the place where you are to be held. You may name whomever you wish to assist you in your defense.”
He seemed to notice Elzbet for the first time and nodding toward her said, “Your friend may accompany you if she wishes and fetch for you such things as are necessary.”
Already Alis could feel her courage ebbing away, but Elzbet took her hand again and squeezed it hard. Alis lifted her head. She would not let them see that she was afraid.
The Great Council Judges were lodged in the Community guesthouse, and Alis was to be held there also. She was put into a room at the back, and one of the carpenters came shamefacedly to attach bars to the window. A woman hired from an inn on the highway was to wait on her as far as was necessary, bringing her food and drink, as well as water to wash in, and doing whatever else is needful for someone who is kept in one room. She was a huge, brawny, silent creature who cared only for the pay she was getting and was more than willing to act as jailer if she were paid well to do it. Alis would get neither help nor companionship from her.
Elzbet brought some clothes and the other things she needed. Alis asked about her parents. Why had they not come to the prayer house with everyone else? Did they know what had happened? Elzbet could not tell her, but she would find out and come back on the morrow, she said. She had permission to visit, only the woman, the jailer, must be there all the time. When the time came for her friend to go, Alis clung to her, whispering in terror, “If Thomas has his way they will hang me.”
Elzbet embraced her. “Don’t be afraid, Alis. No one could believe such a monstrous lie. Thomas has overreached himself this time, you’ll see. I must go, for the baby will need feeding. I will come to you here every day.”
Soon after she had gone, Master Seth, the temporary Minister, arrived bringing Alis’s parents. They had been taken aside beforehand, they said, so that they might not have to hear the news in public among their neighbors. Alis flung her arms about Hannah crying, “It is not true. It is not true. I did not kill him.”
Her mother returned her embrace. “Of course not, daughter. You need not tell us so. We know it, and we must take counsel together to determine how you are to refute this wicked accusation. Master Thomas means you ill because he thinks you opposed him in the matter of the whipping, I suppose. Truly he dwells in darkness. Well, you must tell the Judges the truth and trust to the Maker for justice.”
They spoke at length of what should be done, and gave her what comfort they could. Alis listened to all they said but her heart misgave her. She dared not name anyone to help her defend herself, for she knew she could not speak the truth. She had told the story that she and Galin had agreed upon and she would have to keep to it.