Alis

4
When, gasping for breath, she could run no longer, she was somewhere in the network of streets around the square. The houses were silent and there was not a person to be seen. She leaned against a wall, trying desperately to still the shaking of her limbs, sucking the air into her burning lungs. At last her breathing quieted and she began to wonder what she should do. Thomas would be ill pleased that she had run off. She shuddered at the thought. If only she could go home. Once more she was overwhelmed with longing. She wanted to be a little girl again, to see her mother reading in the lamplight on a winter evening, to feel the comfort of her father’s arms when she was afraid of the dark. But she could never, never go back.
Suddenly there were voices. A woman whose face was familiar: Mistress Elizabeth, the Minister’s wife, tall and dignified with a still-beautiful face and her silken gray hair coiled neatly at the nape of the neck. She and a boy of about seventeen had turned the corner and were coming toward her. They had been arguing, but on seeing her, they ceased. The woman smiled in recognition. “Why, it is Alis, is it not? What are you doing here alone, my dear? Are you lost?”
Alis nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The other looked more closely at her, frowning now.
“Have you been in the square? Is the dreadful business finished?” Alis swallowed and said huskily, “I was there but it was too terrible. I ran away and now I don’t know what to do.” Her voice trembled.
“You had better come home with me, my dear.” The voice was kindly, firm. “Sarah will be in no fit state to care for you, and as for Thomas—”
The boy broke in angrily, “Grandmother, have a care. She may tell him what you say.”
The Minister’s wife looked at him sardonically.
“I am too old to guard my tongue now, Luke. And I will not be frightened into silence. Now come, let us go home. There will be work for us to do later, and this child needs refuge.”
And so saying, she tucked Alis’s arm under her own and they made their way back toward the square. As they came near, Alis could hear the murmur of many voices and felt herself begin to shake. She could not go on—it was too horrible. But Mistress Elizabeth seemed to know her young companion’s dread; though the Minister’s house fronted the square, they did not go that way. They passed instead along a narrow lane between the backs of houses, through a wooden door, and into a large kitchen garden with neat rows of vegetables and tall bean plants. Beyond, through an archway, was a walled yard with potted plants and shrubs. Alis moved in a daze, content to be told what to do. They went into the kitchen, where pans of different sizes hung from hooks from the wall.
An elderly servant woman in a black dress and white cap was sitting by the stove. At their appearance, she jumped up in agitation. “Oh, Mistress Elizabeth, where have you been? I thought some ill had befallen you.” And seeing Alis, her eyes widened. “And this is not wise surely. Is this not the girl who is at Master Thomas’s?”
Her mistress nodded, smiling.
“Yes, Judith, this is Alis, and she has seen what no child should have seen and is in need of comfort. Let her sit awhile by the stove, and warm up some broth for her to drink. I must speak with my husband and see what is to be done for poor Samuel. And Luke, you must stay here, too. Your grandfather may have tasks for you, and how will you do them if you are running about here, there, and everywhere?”
The youth scowled at this and his grandmother shook her head at him.
“Ah, Luke, do not look so. There will be man’s work for you soon enough in the dark times that are coming. Your grandfather and I will need you surely, even for our lives’ sake, perhaps. Be patient a little.”
She reached out and touched his cheek gently with her hand. When she had gone, the servant, Judith, bustled about heating some soup, muttering fretfully to herself all the while. Luke remained, leaning against the doorpost, watching Alis suspiciously. For a while she did not notice him, still dazed from what she had seen, content that someone had taken charge of her and given her a resting place. At length she looked up and caught his eye. At once he looked away, flushing. He was a handsome boy, with smooth brown skin and dark hair.
Judith, having served the visitor, was hovering anxiously.
“Now, Luke, Mistress Elizabeth needs me I am sure, so I must leave you awhile with Alis, though I should not. I will set the door open so that you may be seen and heard.”
He looked scornfully at her. “You need not fear, Judith. I am not likely to behave amiss with any friend of Master Thomas.”
Shocked out of her dazed state, Alis exclaimed furiously, “I am no friend of Master Thomas! He is a wicked, cruel man and I wish I had never seen him.”
Judith gave a cry. “The Maker protect us! For pity’s sake guard your tongues.”
Luke said proudly, “My grandmother says she will not be frightened into silence and neither will I.”
“No.” Judith was angry now as well as afraid. “And your grandmother is not likely to be taken into wardship and subject to particular discipline as you may be, if you persist in your foolery.”
Luke hesitated. “They would not dare!”
Judith shook her head and looked at him pleadingly.
“They have dared much already. Who knows how far they will go?” Luke’s expression was stubborn. “I would defy them.”
The old woman’s face took on a sarcastic expression. “Like Tobias, you mean. Well, that will be mighty fine news for your poor grandparents. Think of them before you make yourself a mark, young Luke.”
And she went out of the kitchen, shutting the door behind her with more than necessary firmness, quite forgetting she had meant to leave it open.
Luke glanced at Alis and then away again, saying awkwardly, “I beg your pardon if I have mistaken you. I supposed that, as you are dwelling with Master Thomas, you must be of his opinion.”
Still nettled by his first assumption about her, Alis spoke sharply. “I am there at Mistress Sarah’s request, not Master Thomas’s, and it is possible to dwell in the same house without thinking alike. You are not always of one mind with your grandmother, it seems.”
He surprised her by grinning suddenly.
“Well, well! Who would have thought you had so much spirit. You conceal your colors well. What are you doing then, in that house, if you are of our persuasion?”
Alis was still annoyed with him and not pleased to have been thought spiritless.
“I do not know what you mean by your ‘persuasion.’ Mistress Sarah came to visit her sister who lives in our Community and asked for me to accompany her home for a while.”
“And you agreed?” He sounded incredulous. “Or perhaps your parents sent you and you had no voice in the matter?”
Alis thought bitterly that it was not in the matter of visiting Mistress Sarah that she had had no voice, but she could not tell anyone that, and especially not this arrogant boy whom she was beginning to dislike very much.
“It was my own choice. And I did not know then what I know now about Master Thomas, or perhaps I would not have come.”
Even as she spoke, Alis knew this was not true. She would have done almost anything to escape. And now that she had seen what a husband might do, she was even more determined.
Luke was watching her curiously. It made her feel uncomfortable, as if he might read her secret in her face if she did not divert his attention, so she asked, “What did you mean by saying you thought I was of your ‘persuasion’? Surely we are all People of the Book. Those who are not live without the protection of the Maker and at the mercy of the darkness, do they not?”
He nodded. “Yes, of course, except that my grandparents think—and I think, too—that Master Robert, our Senior Elder, and Thomas, and others like them, have come under the sway of darkness, though they think themselves purest followers of the Book.”
It was clear to him that Alis did not understand, so he said, “In your Community would a man have been punished in the way that you have seen?”
Alis shook her head. “We have no whipping post.”
Luke whistled in surprise at this.
“Well, we have always been stricter than that, but public whippings have been rare, and never so severe. It is a sign, my grandmother says, of what is to come. My grandfather is the Minister but his power is gone. And though the people love him, they are afraid. The Elders are determined to see that people keep to the rules of the Book more strictly. They come into the houses to inspect and investigate. They question the children. And those who are found to be at fault are punished with fines and the threat of worse if they do not mend their ways.”
Alis was puzzled. “But the Elders have always had such powers, have they not? In our Community, my mother, who is Senior Elder, goes into the houses and asks questions if there is trouble or sin to be sought out, and the Minister or another Elder goes with her.”
He nodded. “And what if the person questioned wishes for witnesses? What happens then?”
“Then they can ask to be questioned before all the Elders or even before the whole Community, so that all can see what is done and there can be no falsehoods.”
For the Book said: There is no justice behind a closed door. Let sinner and judge come to the meeting place and justice shall be done.
Different Communities had different ways of interpreting this injunction, but they all had some such arrangement as Alis had described.
Luke said heavily, “Here we do things differently now. The word of one Elder is enough to get a man or woman punished even to whipping. And he does not have to visit or question, though he must give reason.”
“But”—Alis was shocked—“that is not what the Book says. How can they punish the people for breaking the rules when they are doing it themselves?”
“They say that judge and sinner meet at the prayer house when judgment is given, and punishment is public, so the rule is kept and justice is done.”
She was silent. Then a name came into her head. “What did Judith mean about Tobias?”
He came to sit opposite her and did not answer at once. The wood shifted in the stove and settled with a soft sound. At length he broke his silence.
“You know that if parents cannot govern their children’s conduct, or do not keep a fit household for them to grow up in, the Elders may take the children away and place them with those who will nurture them in virtue.” Alis nodded and he went on. “Well, our Elders—in their wisdom—have decreed something called ‘particular discipline.’ Any boy or girl who is thought especially bad or troublesome is placed in the house of a wardmaster or wardmistress chosen for their strictness. Your Thomas would be one but it is thought, so my grandmother says, that his wife is not fit. It makes him very angry, too.”
Alis shuddered. Was there nothing for which Thomas did not blame Sarah?
“And Tobias?”
For a long moment he sat staring down at his hands. At last he said, “Tobias was my friend.” He stopped and swallowed, then went on. “We never liked restraint, though I do not think we did anything wicked. We climbed out at night sometimes, and took horses to go riding in the dark. Or we missed the prayer meeting and went exploring out in the woods to the south, beyond the edge of the settlement. We laughed too much and prayed too little, I suppose. And we did not fear a beating.”
He stopped again. There was a brooding look on his face.
“Then Tobias was smitten with love for Miriam, the daughter of Master Robert, our Senior Elder. We talked often of whether he might consent to their marriage, but we feared that he was too proud to accept the son of a poor widow, so Tobias and Miriam met in secret for a while. And then—I do not know how—they were found out.”
Alis waited for him to go on but he seemed lost in his thoughts. Softly she asked, “What happened?”
“Miriam was sent away north to her grandmother. But they took Tobias from his mother and made him a ward. The man who has charge of him is an expert in particular discipline, they say. Tobias came one night and threw stones at my window. He would not stand for any more bullying and beating, he said. He was running away and wanted me to go with him, but I would not leave my grandparents, though I longed to go. The Elders sent after him and he was brought back.” There was a long silence. Then Luke said bitterly, “I do not know what they did to him. We see little of him these days. When he comes to the prayer meeting, he does not meet my eye, and he flinches if his ward master says his name. If he speaks at all, it is in a whisper; he looks at his master and cringes like a beaten dog.”
Alis was appalled. “Are you not afraid that the same will happen to you, as Judith fears?”
“I do not think they dare, not yet anyway. But she is right. It may come. But I am not afraid. Whatever they did to me, I would never let them defeat me.”
He spoke proudly and his fearlessness cheered her. She had found kindness and courage in the same household in spite of the cruelty that was all around. She thought of Tobias. Like her, he had run away.
“Luke, where did Tobias mean to go?”
He looked at her as if he were not sure whether to trust her, but something in her demeanor must have decided him for he said simply, “To the city. Until he thought to marry Miriam, he had always wanted to go there. We had talked of it often.”
“Oh!” Alis could not suppress a cry.
Luke said anxiously, “You will not tell anyone that I said so. Judith is right. I must not draw the attention of the Elders and bring trouble on us all.”
Alis shook her head vehemently. “I will tell no one, I swear by the Maker. Only, Luke, you must tell me how to get there, to the city.”
He stared at her. “You? Why would you want to go to the city? It is no place for a girl like you.”
There were sounds of movement and voices beyond the kitchen door. Desperately, for she feared missing her chance, she grabbed his hand.
“You must tell me, Luke. Promise me that you will. I have good reason, I assure you. I will explain. Now promise.”
He looked at her in amazement. She was gripping his hand so hard that it hurt.
She said again, urgently, “Promise!”
Her eyes were blazing and her cheeks were flushed. He could not refuse. Wonderingly, his hand still in hers, he said, “I promise.”
At that moment the kitchen door opened and Mistress Elizabeth appeared.
“Ah, Luke, good. You are still here. You must help me bring him in and then take your grandfather’s mare and ride out to Woodland Farm. Ask Mistress Ellen to come here. Say that I need her. Tell her to bring leaves of self-heal, as many as she can, freshly picked. And Judith”—for the old woman had come clucking into the kitchen—
“put on pans to heat water, large ones. We must boil cloths to cleanse his back.”
Luke said, “What is happening? Why . . . ?”
His grandmother was opening cupboards and taking out jars of ointment. “The Healers will not take the man. They say they have no authority from the Elders to treat him. I have had him brought here. He is likely to die if someone does not tend to him. And Luke, before you go, see that there is enough wood for the stove.”
Her eye fell on Alis. “Alis dear, you must go back to Mistress Sarah’s now. I have seen Master Thomas and explained; you have nothing to fear.” And having dismissed Alis, she turned to the business in hand.
“Judith, we must put the man in the back bedchamber. Ellen and I can tend him, and you will have to take your turn, too. We must manage the days and nights between us, for he must not be left. If the Healers will not help, I doubt we shall find anyone else with the courage.”
Alis took a deep breath.
“Mistress Elizabeth, may I not assist you? I have helped my mother with the sick, and I would repay your kindness if I can.”
The Minister’s wife hesitated. Then she shook her head.
“It is good of you, Alis, but the man is in a dreadful state. I doubt but you would turn giddy to see him and it is strong help that I must have.”
Alis said quietly, “I will not turn giddy, Mistress Elizabeth. I am strengthened now, and surely the Maker has put me in your way to serve this need.”
The older woman put down the jar she was holding and looked at Alis steadily.
“Now, Alis, if you can give your aid, we surely need you. But you must be certain. For if you faint and cry and I must tend to you, you will be a sore trouble and we have trouble enough. And remember this: the man may die when you alone are with him. Are you prepared for that?”
Alis nodded. Elizabeth’s forehead creased in a troubled frown. “Master Thomas will not like it. He has been a prime mover in this terrible matter, and you are a guest in his house, also. I wish I might consult with your parents but that is impossible.”
Alis said hurriedly, “My parents would feel as you do, Mistress Elizabeth. They would think it only right that I should help to care for the poor victim.”
There were more sounds—of wood scraping on stone, and a man’s voice saying “Hold steady, now.” Mistress Elizabeth made up her mind. “Very well. I will speak to Master Thomas myself, to ask his permission. I do not think he will refuse.”
Alis let out the breath she had been holding. The Maker be thanked! She could stay near Luke, who had promised to tell her what she needed to know. But it was more than that: she longed to serve this woman who had reached out to her in kindness in her terror, and there was the man, too. She was ashamed that she had borne witness in silence, and ashamed, too, that she had not endured to the end. This time she would not run away.