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Authors: Bertrice Small
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cut.”
“My physician’s bag with its tools is yours, Alix,” her father told her. “Now, let us see to this little garden.”
She worked with young Wat beneath her father’s supervision to bring the garden into full flower by early summer. And she walked out into the fallow fields gathering flowers, seeds, and grasses that held medicinal value, digging up certain roots. And each day when she returned to the hall she would go first to her father, telling him of what she had found, listening to his advice, learning more about what she had found. One afternoon she showed him the seeds of the wild carrot she had found. “These are what you give me for strength,” Alix said with a smile.
Alexander Givet sighed. For her own sake she had to know the truth before he could no longer tell her. “They are not for strengthening,” he said. “They have another use, mignon . They are to prevent conception.”
Alix paled. “Papa! What have you done to me?” She was horrified by the revelation. “You know I must have a child.”
“Non!” he said in a hard voice such as she had never before heard him use. “You must never have your husband’s child. If you do not give him a son but rather a daughter, he will berate you for it. If you do give him an heir, he will try to take the child from you and make your life even more miserable. Sir Udolf is in his prime, and hearty in his health, but what if an accident befell him? You would be left with his son and none to protect you, mignon .”
“Papa, he has already called me barren. If I do not have a child I am of no use to him, and even Sir Udolf will see that. What will happen to me then? My very life is in peril and especially if Maida has more children.”
“Wait at least until I am gone,” her father begged.
Alix sighed. “I will wait,” she said.
The summer passed, and autumn arrived. No one had come to Wulfborn Hall seeking King Henry. It was obvious that the new king had more important matters to attend to, and Sir Udolf was relieved. Loyal he might have been to Henry Plantagenet, but now his loyalty must belong to the Yorkist king should he be queried. Isolated though Wulfborn was, the lord of the Northern Marches was not above paying him a visit.
On a gray, oddly warm day in mid-October Maida went into labor with her child. And it was on that same day that Alexander Givet chose to die. He had been fine in the morning. Alix had left him seated by the warm hearth as she departed to seek any useful plant that she had earlier missed in her harvesting. There had been a hard frost, and Sir Udolf told her it but portended an early winter. Hayle had run into the hall as she was leaving to announce that his mistress was in labor with their child, and he smirked at Alix. She shrugged and walked past him.
The warm weather after the past cold days was strange. The ground had thawed enough for her to dig some roots she had missed. She found a patch of wild carrot, and carefully snipping the flower heads, shook the seeds into her pouch. She felt no guilt at doing so now. Hayle’s behavior had hardened her heart even more. She had meant what she had said to him. When her father was gone and buried she would go. She could not remain in a loveless marriage. But where she would go she had no idea. She couldn’t return to the queen. The queen would send her back to Wulfborn and to Hayle Watteson. She would have no choice.
Alix walked though the village as she returned to the hall. She passed the house where Maida lived with her mother. She could hear the laboring woman’s howls and groans as she walked by. The girl’s little sister stood in the open door watching her as she passed, and unable to help herself Alix made a rude face at the child. The child turned and fled back into the cottage. Alix laughed, feeling better at being able to make this simple gesture of defiance towards her husband and his mistress.
Entering the house, she went immediately to her little
“My physician’s bag with its tools is yours, Alix,” her father told her. “Now, let us see to this little garden.”
She worked with young Wat beneath her father’s supervision to bring the garden into full flower by early summer. And she walked out into the fallow fields gathering flowers, seeds, and grasses that held medicinal value, digging up certain roots. And each day when she returned to the hall she would go first to her father, telling him of what she had found, listening to his advice, learning more about what she had found. One afternoon she showed him the seeds of the wild carrot she had found. “These are what you give me for strength,” Alix said with a smile.
Alexander Givet sighed. For her own sake she had to know the truth before he could no longer tell her. “They are not for strengthening,” he said. “They have another use, mignon . They are to prevent conception.”
Alix paled. “Papa! What have you done to me?” She was horrified by the revelation. “You know I must have a child.”
“Non!” he said in a hard voice such as she had never before heard him use. “You must never have your husband’s child. If you do not give him a son but rather a daughter, he will berate you for it. If you do give him an heir, he will try to take the child from you and make your life even more miserable. Sir Udolf is in his prime, and hearty in his health, but what if an accident befell him? You would be left with his son and none to protect you, mignon .”
“Papa, he has already called me barren. If I do not have a child I am of no use to him, and even Sir Udolf will see that. What will happen to me then? My very life is in peril and especially if Maida has more children.”
“Wait at least until I am gone,” her father begged.
Alix sighed. “I will wait,” she said.
The summer passed, and autumn arrived. No one had come to Wulfborn Hall seeking King Henry. It was obvious that the new king had more important matters to attend to, and Sir Udolf was relieved. Loyal he might have been to Henry Plantagenet, but now his loyalty must belong to the Yorkist king should he be queried. Isolated though Wulfborn was, the lord of the Northern Marches was not above paying him a visit.
On a gray, oddly warm day in mid-October Maida went into labor with her child. And it was on that same day that Alexander Givet chose to die. He had been fine in the morning. Alix had left him seated by the warm hearth as she departed to seek any useful plant that she had earlier missed in her harvesting. There had been a hard frost, and Sir Udolf told her it but portended an early winter. Hayle had run into the hall as she was leaving to announce that his mistress was in labor with their child, and he smirked at Alix. She shrugged and walked past him.
The warm weather after the past cold days was strange. The ground had thawed enough for her to dig some roots she had missed. She found a patch of wild carrot, and carefully snipping the flower heads, shook the seeds into her pouch. She felt no guilt at doing so now. Hayle’s behavior had hardened her heart even more. She had meant what she had said to him. When her father was gone and buried she would go. She could not remain in a loveless marriage. But where she would go she had no idea. She couldn’t return to the queen. The queen would send her back to Wulfborn and to Hayle Watteson. She would have no choice.
Alix walked though the village as she returned to the hall. She passed the house where Maida lived with her mother. She could hear the laboring woman’s howls and groans as she walked by. The girl’s little sister stood in the open door watching her as she passed, and unable to help herself Alix made a rude face at the child. The child turned and fled back into the cottage. Alix laughed, feeling better at being able to make this simple gesture of defiance towards her husband and his mistress.
Entering the house, she went immediately to her little
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