Fire and Ice

Chapter 17



Giselle slowly opened her eyes and shut them again quickly as the bright winter sun pierced her brain. She felt cold and didn’t recognise her surroundings. She made a mental note to tell the servants to bring her more furs but as her memory returned and she moved her head to survey her room, what she saw brought her no comfort. A faint movement caught her eye and she heard scurrying under her bed causing her to sit up and hug the coarse woollen blanket closer to her chest. She sat wide-eyed when she saw rats scurrying along the cold stone floor, hugging close to the wall line. A scream erupted from her throat and she stood on the hard wooden bench which had served as her bed. No one heard her screams, or if they did, she was ignored. Mice were also running around in the straw and rushes which partly covered the stone floor. Noting an earthenware jug on a battered table next to the bed she grabbed it and threw it as hard as she could at the offending vermin. It shattered easily spilling water on the floor and up the walls, but still they scampered in the darker corners.

She screamed again and again and at last someone came to her. She ran to the woman and started shaking her.

“Where am I?” she yelled, “I want to go home. Do you know who I am?”

“My lady, calm yourself, of course we know who you are. Now please be quiet or I’ll have to quieten you myself.”

Giselle was shocked at the expression on the woman’s face. She was dressed as a nun and her demeanour was threatening but Giselle, in her trauma, continued with her tirade.

“I demand to see my brother, Sir Richard de Gant. I am living at Ulfric’s Hall in Bertone. Send word immediately, do you hear?”

Her hysterics were ended by a sharp slap to her face. “You are here under instruction from my lord Ulfric, and Father Matthew has confirmed the matter, so I suggest you sit down and I will tell you what we intend to do with you.”

Giselle’s mind could not take in what had just happened and she was stunned into silence, holding the side of her burning cheek.

“That’s better. Now let me introduce myself, I am Sister Margaret and you are going to live with us here in Goxhill until my lord Ulfric sends for you. Is that clear?”

“Wh...at? Why? I demand you send for my father, he is with the King’s court. He will come for me.”

“You are in no position to demand anything. Now that you have finished sleeping you can follow me and I will take you to our Mother Superior and then show you your tasks for today. You will then join us for prayer. We meet for prayer every four hours which includes through the night, so I hope you are well rested.”

“Oh, no, I’m not a nun. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sister Margaret concluded and grabbed Giselle by the arm and holding her firmly, dragged her to a small room similar to the one she had left but much cleaner. “Here, remove your clothes and put these on.” She pushed some coarse material into Giselle’s hands and stood back but Giselle made no move to comply.

“I said, put these on. There is no display of finery in here. We live simply and your clothes are not suitable for the work we have for you.”

“I’m not a servant. How dare you treat me this way?”

“We are all servants of the Lord here. Now do as you’re told or there will be no food or water for you today.”

Giselle’s stomach was grumbling already and slowly she began removing her outer clothes, leaving on a fine linen shift which had belonged to Hilde. She was about to put the dress over her head when Sister Margaret stopped her.

“No, my lady! You will take off your undergarment too, as I’ve told you we have no need for finery. It will teach you to appreciate how privileged you have been since your birth.”

Giselle was about to argue when Sister Margaret took a step closer with her hand raised as if to strike her again.

“Alright, alright. I’ll remove the shift but I’ll remember this day when my father or brother come to claim me. You will regret having crossed me.”

“We’ll see who regrets what,” was the only reply she received.

Giselle took off the rest of her clothes and wriggled uncomfortably when she realised that the dress was in fact a habit like the nun’s wore, but a different colour. Theirs were black and hers was a dirty brown which felt as if it was infested with lice. She itched and scratched until her skin was red raw but no sympathy was forthcoming.

“The Mother Superior would like to see you now,” Sister Margaret explained as she led Giselle along another corridor.

“Good. I’ll give her a piece of my mind when I see her.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying. She’s the one who gave me instructions on how to deal with you.”

Sister Margaret paused before a heavy oak door and knocked three times before a muted “Enter” was heard. The heavy door yielded under pressure and Giselle was led, still scratching, into the room. An older woman with rosy cheeks and wearing the same sort of habit as Sister Margaret sat behind a weighty-looking table. She wore a large cross around her neck and keys hung from a chatelaine at her waist. Giselle was guided, none too gently to stand in front of the Mother Superior.

“I’ve a complaint to make to you, Mother...” Giselle began importantly, and was taken off-guard as another slap was delivered to her cheek, this time from the Mother Superior who had risen sharply and leaned over the barrier between them.

“You will speak when I tell you, and not before. Do we understand each other, my lady?”

Giselle was rendered speechless once again by the swiftness of the delivered hand and held her smarting cheek, trying not to let the tears fall which had gathered in her eyes.

“Do we understand each other?” The question came again.

Giselle nodded dumbly losing the battle to stop the tears flowing, but croaked, “Why are you doing this to me, Mother? What have I done to provoke such treatment?”

The Mother Superior walked around the desk and nodded to Sister Margaret to leave them. “Wait outside, please, Sister,” she added and the nun moved to obey.

Feeling totally abandoned, Giselle watched as the other woman circled her and then heard her sigh heavily.

“You ask what you have done? Let me explain to you why you are here and the reason for your supposed mistreatment. Sit down!” she commanded.

Giselle moved to sit in front of the desk and the Mother Superior returned to her chair and observed the sniffling woman who had caused such havoc at the Hall at Bertone.

“My lady Hilde has been a steadfast friend to this house of God since her marriage to the late lord. I understand from Father Matthew, Erik, whose family also benefit the people here, and the Norseman who brought you, that you have systematically destroyed the lady Hilde’s life. You have set out to demoralise her body and her mind since your arrival, and she is now teetering on the point of death. You have stolen from her and her daughter, and even caused physical harm to the lady Juliana by pushing her into the fire. Now you tell me if these are the acts of a sane person?”

Giselle stared at the woman in front of her. “You don’t understand, Mother,” she said as if explaining something to a child, “I am a Norman and therefore I am superior to all of you here. You are a conquered people and yet you refuse to submit to your betters. That old woman, Hilde, who is so precious to you, is worthless to me. Why shouldn’t she share her garments with me? What use are such gowns to her now her husband is dead? And as for that fawning daughter of hers, what Ulfric sees in her I’ve no idea. She’s insipid and her former lover, Erik, makes cows eyes at her all the time. Wait till I tell Ulfric about that!”

The Mother Superior gazed at Giselle whose colour had risen to match her spirit. “You are a foolish woman, my lady. I see now why they were so insistent that you stay with us here. Once you have learned gratitude and humility I will speak to Father Matthew, but until then you will stay here with us. You will have no visitors and will work alongside the sisters, in the kitchen, in the gardens, and you will join us in prayer every four hours. You will begin by cleaning your own room. I understand you don’t like vermin, so now’s your chance to get rid of them. After that you will go to the kitchen and help the sisters prepare the midday repast. If you disobey any of their orders then you’ll be returned to your room with no food. If you continue on the course you seem determined to follow, you will only be hurting yourself. Sister Margaret will show you where the brooms are kept and you can draw water from the well outside. But before I let you go, there is one thing that all sisters have to submit to when entering here.”

Giselle watched in horror as a large pair of rusted shears were produced from under the apron of the Mother Superior.

“No, Mother, not that! I beg you – don’t cut my hair off!”

“It will be beneficial in the long run, now be still or I might cut you.”

Giselle cried out against the blades and Sister Margaret had to come back into the room to help subdue her. Mother Superior hacked off the long tresses and threw them on the floor. It was not done neatly and because of Giselle’s squirming and fighting there were bald patches interspersed with short tufts of hair when they had finished.

“Put on this cap and you can go now,” the Mother Superior said handing her a grey, linen square of material and dismissed her into the care of Sister Margaret who was told to show Giselle how to fold the material into a cap.

Giselle moved to the door in quiet acquiescence. She would clean her room, she thought defiantly, but they would have a long wait before she lowered herself to take part in domestic chores. Fortunately, there were no mirrors or bright surfaces where she could see herself but when she ran her fingers through her hair she could feel her scalp in too many places.