World Without End (79 page)

Including your own sister, Caris thought. Did Philemon know about that?

He said: 'This novice nun will testify.'

Elizabeth Clerk stood up. She spoke in a quiet voice, eyes lowered, the picture of nunlike modesty. 'I say this on my oath as I hope to be saved,' she began. 'I was betrothed to Merthin Builder.'

Merthin called out: 'Liar!'

'We were in love and very happy,' Elizabeth went on. 'Suddenly he changed. He seemed like a stranger to me. He became cold.'

Philemon asked her: 'Did you notice anything else unusual, Sister?'

'Yes, Brother. I saw him hold his knife in his left hand.'

The crowd gasped. This was an acknowledged sign of bewitchment - although, as Caris knew, Merthin was ambidextrous.

Elizabeth said: 'Then he announced he was going to marry Caris.'

It was amazing, Caris thought, how the truth could be just a little skewed so that it sounded sinister. She knew what had really happened. Merthin and Elizabeth had been friends until Elizabeth made it clear she wanted to be more than a friend, at which point he had told her that he did not share her feelings, and they had parted. But a satanic spell made a much better story.

Elizabeth might have convinced herself that she was telling the truth. But Philemon knew this was a lie. And Philemon was Godwyn's tool. How could Godwyn reconcile his conscience with this level of wickedness? Was he telling himself that anything was justified in the service of the priory?

Elizabeth finished: 'I can never love another man. That is why I have decided to give my life to God.' She sat down.

It was powerful evidence, Caris realized, and her dismay darkened like a winter sky. The fact that Elizabeth had become a nun lent conviction to her testimony. She was operating a kind of sentimental blackmail: How can you disbelieve me when I have made such a sacrifice?

The townspeople were quieter now. This was not the hilarious spectacle of a mad old woman being condemned. They were watching a battle for the life of a fellow citizen.

Philemon said: 'Most damning of all, my lord bishop, is the final witness, a close member of the accused woman's own family: her brother-in-law, Elfric Builder.'

Caris gasped. She had been accused by her cousin, Godwyn; by her best friend's brother, Philemon; and by Elizabeth - but this was worse. For her sister's husband to speak against her was astonishing treachery. Surely no one would ever respect Elfric again.

Elfric stood up. The expression of defiance on his face told Caris he was ashamed of himself. 'I say this on my oath as I hope to be saved,' he began.

Caris looked around for her sister, Alice, but did not see her. If she had been here, she would surely have stopped Elfric. No doubt Elfric had ordered her to stay at home on some pretext. She probably knew nothing of this.

Elfric said: 'Caris speaks to unseen presences in empty rooms.'

'Spirits?' Philemon prompted.

'I fear so.'

A murmur of horror came from the crowd.

Caris was aware that she often talked aloud to herself. She had always thought of it as a harmless, if mildly embarrassing, habit. Her father said all imaginative people did it. Now it was being used to condemn her. She bit back a protest. It was better to let the prosecution run its course, then refute the accusations one by one.

'When does she do this?' Philemon asked Elfric.

'When she thinks she is alone.'

'And what does she say?'

'The words are difficult to make out. She might be speaking a foreign tongue.'

The crowded reacted to that, too: witches and their familiars were said to have their own language that no one else could understand.

'What does she seem to be saying?'

'To judge by her tone of voice, she is asking for help, pleading for good luck, cursing those who cause her misfortune, that sort of thing.'

Merthin shouted: 'This is not evidence!' Everyone looked at him, and he added: 'He has admitted he did not understand the words - he's just making this up!'

There was a rumble of support from the more levelheaded citizens, but it was not as loud or as indignant as Caris would have liked.

Bishop Richard spoke for the first time. 'Be quiet,' he said. 'Men who disrupt the proceedings will be put outside by the constable. Carry on, please, Brother Philemon, but do not invite witnesses to fabricate evidence when they have admitted they do not know the truth.'

That was at least evenhanded, Caris thought. Richard and his family had no love for Godwyn after the quarrel over Margery's wedding. On the other hand, as a cleric Richard might not want the town to pass out of the priory's control. Perhaps he would at least be neutral in this. Her hopes rose a little.

Philemon said to Elfric: 'Do you think the familiars she speaks to help her in any way?'

'Most certainly,' Elfric replied. 'Caris's friends, those she favors, are lucky. Merthin has become a successful builder although he never even completed his apprenticeship as a carpenter. Mark Webber was a poor man, but now he is rich. Caris's friend Gwenda is married to Wulfric, even though Wulfric was betrothed to someone else. How are these things achieved, if not with unnatural help?'

'Thank you.'

Elfric sat down.

As Philemon summarized his evidence, Caris fought down a rising feeling of terror. She tried to put out of her mind the vision of Crazy Nell being flogged behind a cart. She struggled to concentrate on what she should say to defend herself. She could ridicule every statement made about her, but that might not be enough. She needed to explain why people had lied about her, and show what their motives were.

When Philemon was finished, Godwyn asked her if she had anything to say. In a loud voice that sounded more confident than she felt, she replied: 'Of course I do.' She made her way to the front of the crowd: she would not let her accusers monopolize the position of authority. She took her time, making them all wait for her. She walked up to the throne and looked Richard in the eye. 'My lord bishop, I say this on my oath as I hope to be saved...,' she turned to the crowd and added, '...which I notice Philemon did not say.'

Godwyn interrupted: 'As a monk, he does not need to swear.'

Caris raised her voice. 'And a good thing for him, otherwise he would burn in Hell for the lies he has told today!'

Score a point to me, she thought, and her hopes rose another notch.

She spoke to the crowd. Although the decision would be made by the bishop, he would be heavily influenced by the reaction of the townspeople. He was not a man of high principle.

'Mattie Wise healed many people in this town,' she began. 'On this day two years ago, when the old bridge collapsed, she was one of the foremost in tending to the injured, working alongside Mother Cecilia and the nuns. Looking around the church today I see many people who benefited from her care at that terrible time. Did anyone hear her invoke the devil on that day? If so, let him speak now.'

She paused to let the silence impress itself on her audience.

She pointed at Madge Webber. 'Mattie gave you a potion that brought down your child's fever. What did she say to you?'

Madge looked scared. No one was comfortable being called as a witness in the defense of a witch. But Madge owed a lot to Caris. She straightened her shoulders, looked defiant, and said: 'Mattie said to me: 'Pray to God, for only He can heal.''

Caris pointed at the constable. 'John, she eased your pain while Mathew Barber set your broken bones. What did she say to you?'

John was used to being on the prosecuting side, and he, too, looked uneasy, but he told the truth in a strong voice. 'She said: 'Pray to God, for only He can heal.''

Caris turned to the crowd. 'Everyone knows that Mattie was no witch. In that case, says Brother Philemon, why did she flee? Easy question. She was afraid that lies would be told about her - as they have been told about me. Which of you women, if falsely accused of heresy, would feel confident about proving your innocence to a court of priests and monks?' She looked around, letting her eyes rest on the prominent women of the town: Lib Wheeler, Sarah Taverner, Susanna Chepstow.

'Why did I mix dyes at night?' she resumed. 'Because the days were short! Like many of you, my father failed to sell all his fleeces last year, and I wanted to turn the raw wool into something I could market. It was very difficult to discover the formula, but I did it, by hard work, over many hours, day and night - but without the help of Satan.' She paused for breath.

When she began again, she used a different tone of voice, more playful. 'I am accused of bewitching Merthin. I have to admit that the case against me is strong. Look at Sister Elizabeth. Stand up, please, Sister.'

Reluctantly, Elizabeth stood.

'She is beautiful, isn't she?' Caris said. 'She is also clever. And she is the daughter of a bishop. Oh, forgive me, my lord bishop, I meant no disrespect.'

The crowd chuckled at that cheeky stab. Godwyn looked outraged, but Bishop Richard smothered a smile.

'Sister Elizabeth cannot see why any man would prefer me to her. Nor can I. Unaccountably, Merthin loves me, plain as I am. I cannot explain it.' There was more giggling. 'I'm sorry Elizabeth is so angry. If we lived in Old Testament times, Merthin could have two wives and everyone would be happy.' They laughed loudly at that. She waited for the sound to subside, then said gravely: 'What I am most sorry about is that the commonplace jealousy of a disappointed woman should become the pretext, in the untrustworthy mouth of a novice monk, for a charge as serious as that of heresy.'

Philemon stood up to protest the charge of untrustworthiness, but Bishop Richard flapped a hand at him, saying: 'Let her speak, let her speak.'

Caris decided she had made her point about Elizabeth, and moved on. 'I confess that I sometimes use vulgar words when I am alone - especially if I stub my toe. But you may ask why my own brother-in-law would testify against me, and tell you that my mutterings were invocations to evil spirits. I'm afraid I can answer that.' She paused, then spoke solemnly. 'My father is ill. If he dies, his fortune will be divided between me and my sister. But, if I die first, my sister will get it all. And my sister is Elfric's wife.'

She paused, looking quizzically at the crowd. 'Are you shocked?' she said. 'So am I. But men kill for less money than that.'

She moved away, as if she had finished, and Philemon got up from his bench. Caris turned around and addressed him in Latin.
'Caput tuum in ano est.'

The monks laughed loudly, and Philemon flushed.

Caris turned to Elfric. 'You didn't understand that, did you, Elfric?'

'No,' he said sulkily.

'Which is why you might have thought I was using some sinister witchcraft tongue.' She turned back to Philemon. 'Brother, you know what language I was using, don't you?'

'Latin,' Philemon replied.

'Perhaps you would tell us what I just said to you.'

Philemon looked an appeal at the bishop. But Richard was amused, and just said: 'Answer the question.'

Looking furious, Philemon obeyed. 'She said: 'You've got your head up your ass.''

The townspeople roared with laughter, and Caris walked back to her place.

When the noise died down, Philemon began to speak, but Richard interrupted him. 'I don't need to hear any further from you,' he said. 'You've made a strong case against her, and she has mounted a vigorous defense. Does anyone else have anything to say about this accusation?'

'I do, my lord bishop.' Friar Murdo came forward. Some of the townspeople cheered, others groaned: Murdo aroused contrary reactions. 'Heresy is an evil,' he began, his voice modulating into fruity preaching mode. 'It corrupts the souls of women and men - '

'Thank you, Brother, but I know what heresy does,' said Richard. 'Do you have anything else to say? If not - '

'Just this,' Murdo replied. 'I agree with, and reiterate - '

'If it has been said before - '

' - your own comment that the case is strong, and the defense similar.'

'In which case - '

'I have a solution to propose.'

'All right, Brother Murdo, what is it? In the minimum number of words.'

'She must be examined for the Devil's Mark.'

Caris's heart seemed to stop.

'Of course,' said the bishop. 'I seem to remember you making the same suggestion at an earlier trial.'

'Indeed, lord, for the devil greedily sucks the hot blood of his acolytes through his own special nipple, as the newborn babe sucks the swollen breasts - '

'Yes, thank you, friar, no need for further details. Mother Cecilia, will you and two other nuns please take the accused woman to a place of examination?'

Caris looked at Merthin. He was pale with horror. They were both thinking the same.

Caris had a mole.

It was tiny, but the nuns would find it - in just the kind of place they thought the devil was most interested in: on the left side of her vulva, just beside the cleft. It was dark brown, and the red gold hair around did not hide it. The first time Merthin had noticed it, he had joked: 'Friar Murdo would call you a witch - you'd better not let him see it.' And Caris had laughed and said: 'Not if he were the last man on earth.'

How could they have spoken of it in such a carefree way? Now she would be condemned to death for it.

She looked around desperately. She would have run, but she was surrounded by hundreds of people, some of whom would stop her. She saw Merthin's hand on the knife at his belt; but even if the knife had been a sword and he had been a great fighter - which he was not - he could not have cut his way through such a crowd.

Mother Cecilia came to her and took her hand.

Caris decided she would escape as soon as she got outside the church. Crossing the cloisters she could easily break free.

Then Godwyn said: 'Constable, take one of your deputies and escort the woman to the place of examination, and stand outside the door until it is done.'

Cecilia could not have held Caris, but two men could.

John looked at Mark Webber, normally his first choice among the deputies. Caris felt a faint hope: Mark was a loyal friend to her. But the constable apparently had the same thought, for he turned from Mark and pointed to Christopher Blacksmith.