‘Anyone who wishes to see that I obey the laws and customs of Willdon should step forward now,’ the man said.
There was a silence, apart from a rustling of clothes as the assembled multitude looked around expectantly. Then Jay realised Lady Catherine was looking at him. He stepped forward.
‘I wish to see,’ he said.
‘Then you will be my guest and companion.’
At which point the ceremony was at an end. Those who were gathered around burst into enthusiastic applause, and Jay could feel the tension seep away. Then the procession re-formed, the empty chair was lifted high and the members of the household withdrew.
The large man, Jay and Lady Catherine were now alone. ‘So, for the next two days I am your servant Kate. This is Jay, presently at Ossenfud, who has generously offered to see everything is done properly. That is to say, you will show me no favour or special treatment, nor will you be cruel or harsh undeservedly. Have you done anything like this before?’
‘No. I have not.’
‘Well, I have, but you will get no advice from me. What’s your name, by the way?’
‘I am called Callan, my La—’
‘What do you have planned?’
‘Wood cutting and collecting. It’ll be hard work, and tiring. We will go into the forest and chop logs. Or at least, I will. Your job will be to collect and stack them. If we have time, I want to make a fire for charcoal. You will cook and clean the pots, make my bed and sleep on the leaves.’
‘What am I meant to do?’ Jay asked.
‘Nothing. You just watch.’
‘Oh, must I?’ Jay said. ‘I used to burn charcoal with my uncle when I was little. I loved it. Do let me do something useful.’
Callan looked at his earnest young face and laughed. ‘A lady and a scholar,’ he said. ‘What more could any forester need? Lord, but this is going to be hard work!’
Callan followed the rules very carefully, showing neither of them any favour. He marched off and took them deep into the forest, walking for nearly three hours without stopping for food or rest, keeping up a swift pace. Even Jay, who got a great deal of exercise in the college’s fields around Ossenfud, was tired, and he was concerned that Lady Catherine — Kate, he reminded himself — was quite unused to such exertion. Already her bare legs were scratched from the brambles, her short hair was tangled, her hands were dirty. She didn’t seem to mind, and bore it all with good heart.
‘You thought I had forgotten you, didn’t you, Callan Perelson?’ Jay said after a while.
Callan smiled. ‘I did.’
‘I remember you very well. You were kind to me.’
‘No more than a frightened little boy deserved.’
‘I thought you were a soldier.’
‘Me? No. I was just doing my service. Three years I spent marching around, standing guard, doing nothing of importance. That was enough. I missed my forest. Being in towns made me ill. All those people...’
‘So now you’re happy again?’
‘Not today I’m not.’ He jerked his head in the direction of Kate, who was walking dutifully behind them. ‘I could do without this.’
‘So why are you doing it?’
‘Chosen by lot. It’s not as if anyone in their right mind would volunteer.’
‘What are the rules?’
‘She does as I say. She works. If she refuses, she gets beaten.’
‘You are going to beat the Lady of Willdon?’
‘I hope not. If I do, then no one will ever know. She cannot say what happens to her. Nor can I, and you can only speak if one or other of us breaks the rules. You know that, don’t you?’
Jay shook his head. ‘No. I don’t know anything.’
‘You’ve not changed, then.’
They walked on some more, then Callan dropped his backpack on the ground. ‘Time for a rest,’ he said, ‘and some food. Kate! In the bag you’ll find some bread and cheese. Set it out for us.’
Kate came, and bowed, and set to work.
Jay had forgotten how hard it was to lift and carry logs, stacking them in a neat pile for collection. They didn’t even begin until their long march through the forest had come to its end. By then they must have been twelve miles away from Willdon, and had been passing through never-ending trees, crossing brooks and rivers and occasionally little meadows cleared for sheep and goats. Once they spent a few minutes up a broad oak tree; Callan thought he had heard a wild boar. He stood guard at the bottom while Jay and Kate — neither much good in a fight, he reckoned — scuttled up the tree and hung on to the branches.
‘Think ahead,’ Jay whispered to Kate. ‘The boar comes, kills Callan and eats him. It then settles down for a sleep. Its family comes and joins in. We’re stuck up here. What do we do then?’
‘Are you always so cheerful?’
No such disaster occurred. Jay reckoned this was down to him, on the grounds that a disaster anticipated never happens. It is only the things you don’t think of which come to pass. Kate declined to give him much credit, but was at least grateful for the ten minutes’ rest they had lying on the branches before Callan told them they could come down.
‘Wouldn’t have minded some meat for dinner,’ he said. ‘Next time, Jay, you go ahead and make a noise to attract it.’
‘As long as you tell Henary how his student died.’
‘I could do that,’ Kate said. ‘He would understand and bear his loss. Henary is not a man to do without food.’
It was a good-natured march. Callan treated Kate rather as a kind master treats a servant and she, in turn, played her part well. Jay, whose respect had previously clouded his vision, found himself considering things he would never have dared allow himself to think about the Lady of Willdon. Stripped of authority and of finery, she remained a lovely woman, much younger-looking now that her body was not bound and cosseted. Her face, perhaps, showed a few lines around the eyes, but her skin was clear and fresh, her eyes bright. Nor did her luxurious life mean she was unfit; she walked strongly and, when it came to work, lifted and stacked logs with steady effort.
It was dark by the time Callan called a halt for the day. He and Jay settled down on a blanket while Kate built a fire, which Callan, as master, lit. Then she began to prepare their food.
‘Forgive me for asking, but can you cook?’ Jay enquired.
‘Of course I can cook,’ she said crossly. ‘I used to enjoy it. I can do fresh perch in a cream and sorrel sauce. Calf’s head in honey and vinegar. Jams and preserves of all sorts. What do we have?’
‘Bread, cheese, beer, some pickled meats as a treat and porridge for breakfast,’ Callan said with an amused snort.
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘Bread, cheese, beer, some pickled meats as a treat and porridge for breakfast,’ Callan said again.
‘That’s easy enough, then.’
She could drink as well, and felt she deserved to, as she had been the one who had carried the two heavy jars of strong beer. Once the food was ready, Callan made the blessing over it and poured the beer into three earthenware pots. ‘It may be against the rules,’ he said, ‘but in my village, servants eat with the family. So sit you down, servant Kate, and join our meal.’
He raised his glass when they were all around the fire. ‘To the health and lasting life of two of the worst woodsmen I have ever encountered.’
They cheered this and drank; Jay watched as the beer spilled down Kate’s chin, her neck and her body. He forced himself to think of other things.
‘Your turn, Master Scholar!’ Callan said when they had eaten part of their meal.
‘I would like a toast to the weather,’ Jay said. ‘Neither too hot, which would be bad for working, nor cold and wet, which would be miserable. May it be as generous tomorrow and ever after.’