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an effort. "Hush now. It matters not if you've his coloring, as long as you've not his accursed, evil soul."Joanna's tears dried; once more her mother had forgiven her for a sin beyond her understanding. But when she came back from the garden privy, she found the bedchamber door barred to her. Maud was already asleep, and she scratched softly on the door. "Mama? Mama, it's me."There was no response. After a few moments she gave up, found a blanket, and dragged it over to the hearth next to Maud. This had happened before; there were times, Maud explained, "when your lady mother needs to be alone." But as she edged closer to Maud's bulky shelter, Joanna wished her mother had not felt such a need on this, her birthday.The next morning, Clemence was moving about the kitchen by the

79[oanna awakened She was pale, hollow-eyed, and as she bent over kiss Joanna, there was a sour-wine smell on her breath But she med to have laid her ghosts to rest, at least for a time, and Joanna5 ked for no more than that Nor did Maud, who set about cooking breakfast with unusual cheerIt was midmornmg Joanna was weeding midst their cabbages and mons, chanting under her breath, "Plant a seed, pull a weed," when he looked up and saw the cart moving slowly down the roadThe coming of the cart was an occasion in their lives, much like Christmas orEaster week, and she dashed to meet it Three or four tunes a year, a tight-lipped driver she knew only as Luke pulled up at their door When Joanna had been younger, she'd confused him with St Nicholas, for, like the celebrated saint, Luke brought riches, food, and blankets, and sometimes a pouchful of small silver coins Dancing with excitement, Joanna sought now to see what the cart held Two crated eeese Sacks of salt and flour A barrel of salted pork Bundles of flax stems, Maud would soak them to separate the fibers, and her mother would then spin them into linen for sheets and clothingJars of honey and flagons of wine"Mama1 Luke's come, and with so much food' Can we have a goose for Michaelmas, can we, Mama7"Clemence did not answer, she was staring at the object Luke was holding out toward her, a sealed parchment Joanna slid down from the cart wheel Mama had never gotten a letter before She shivered suddenly, watched her mother break the seal with clumsy fingers"No1 Oh, God, no " The letter fluttered to the ground, and Joanna grabbed for it But her mother had whirled, was fleeing back into the house"Luke7 Why did the letter make my mama cry7"He rarely acknowledged her, generally acted as if she were invisible to adult eyes But he looked down at her now, said, "Her father is dead "The bedchamber door was ajar Joanna gave it a push and it swung open Her mother and Maud were on the bed, Maud cradling the younger woman as if she were no older than Joanna"I always thought thought someday he'd forgive me I had to believe that, had to but he did not, died believing me to be a whore and I'm not, I'm not1"I know, lovedy, I know " Tears were streaming down Maud's face '% little girl, do not I beg you'And George he'll inherit all, will not pay the rent on the cota8e you know he will not1 And what will we do, Maud7 Mother of G°d, what will we do7"

soJoanna could bear no more. "Mama . . . Mama, do not cry!" But her mother was beyond any consolation she or Maud could offer. She con. tinued to weep as the day dragged on, sometimes silently, hopelessly sometimes with deep, shuddering sobs that convulsed her in gasping spasms, until at last her body rebelled and she retched miserably into the floor rushes around the bed.At dark, Maud made pallets for Joanna and herself by the hearth. But the bedchamber door could not completely shut out the sounds of sobbing. At lastJoanna cried herself to sleep. She was awakened well past midnight by a dull thud. Sitting up, she saw her mother standing by the table, two of Luke's wine flagons clutched to her chest. She put her fingers to her lips, backed stealthily toward the door. Her face was waxen in the moonlight, her eyes swollen to slits, blonde hair spilling down her breasts and shoulders in a colorless, tangled snarl. Joanna's breathing quickened; this glassy-eyed, swaying stranger was not her mother.By the time she wriggled free of the blankets, Clemence had retreated back into the bedchamber. As Joanna reached the door, she heard the bolt slide into place. When Maud awoke at dawn, she found the little girl asleep on the floor, huddled against the bedchamber door.THE day seemed endless. Joanna wandered about the cottage like a ghost; not even Middleham Castle could lure her away from that closed bedchamber door.Maud made periodic attempts to coax Clemence out. Sometimes her entreaties provoked curses and slurred abuse; at other times her pleas echoed into an eerie silence. At dusk, Maud set a plate of cheese and bread before Joanna, stood over the child until she choked down a few mouthfuls, and then put her to bed by the hearth. Exhausted, Joanna slept.But the next morning the bedchamber door was still bolted. Maud sent Joanna for Cedric, and as they hastened back up the path toward the cottage, they could hear Maud's fists thudding against the oaken door."My lady, I beg you, open the door. You've not eaten for two full days."Maud's hands were raw, knuckles bleeding, but she continued to beat futilely on the door until shouldered aside by Cedric. He tested the latch several times, and then said, "Where is your axe?"Maud gave a low moan and gestured, but a shudder passed through her body each time the axe connected with the wood. As the door gave way, Cedric put

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