World Without End

Dawn broke as she left the houses behind and set out across the fields. Wigleigh had three great fields: Hundredacre, Brookfield and Longfield. Different crops were grown on each in a three-year cycle. Wheat and rye, the most valuable grains, were sown in the first year; then lesser crops such as oats, barley, peas and beans in the second year; and in the third year the field was left fallow. This year, Hundredacre was in wheat and rye, Brookfield in various secondary crops, and Longfield was fallow. Each field was divided into strips of about one acre; and each serf’s land consisted of a number of strips scattered across all three fields.

Gwenda went to Hundredacre and began weeding one of Wulfric’s strips, pulling up the persistent new growth of dockweed, marigolds and dogfe

She weeded until sunrise then moved to the demesne lands – those strips farmed by the lord, or his labourers – and worked for pay. Although Sir Stephen was dead, his crops still had to be reaped, and his successor would demand a strict account of what had been done with the proceeds. At sundown, having earned her daily bread, Gwenda would move to another part of Wulfric’s holding and work there until dark – longer, if there was a moon.

She had said nothing to Wulfric. But, in a village of only two hundred people, few things remained secret for long. Widow Huberts had asked her, with gentle curiosity, what she hoped to achieve. “He’s going to marry Perkin’s girl, you know – you can’t prevent that.”

“I just want him to succeed,” Gwenda had replied. “He deserves it. He’s an honest man with a good heart, and he’s willing to work until he drops. I want him to be happy, even if he does marry that bitch.”

Today the demesne workers were in Brookfield, harvesting the lord’s early peas and beans, and Wulfric was nearby, digging a drainage ditch: the land was swampy after the heavy rain of early June. Gwenda watched him working, wearing only his drawers and boots, his broad back bending over the spade. He moved as tirelessly as a millwheel. Only the sweat glistening on his skin betrayed the effort he was making. At midday A

Nate Reeve rang a bell, and everyone stopped work and retreated to the fringe of trees at the north end of the field. Nate gave out cider, bread and onions to the demesne workers: di

At first, A

After eating, everyone rested for the remainder of the di

Gwenda was not going to apologize. “I suppose A

“She doesn’t want you working for me.”

“What would she like me to do, put the weeds back in the earth?”

He glanced around and lowered his voice, not wanting others to hear – although everyone could surely guess what he and Gwenda were saying to one another. “I know you mean well, and I’m grateful, but it’s causing trouble.”

She enjoyed being this close to him. He smelled of earth and sweat. “You need help,” she said. “And A

“Please don’t criticize her. In fact, don’t speak of her at all.”

“All right, but you can’t get the harvest in alone.”

He sighed. “If only the sun would shine.” Automatically, he looked up at the sky, a peasant reflex. There was thick cloud from horizon to horizon. All the grain crops were struggling in the cool, damp weather.

“Let me work for you,” Gwenda begged. “Tell A

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

But the next day he hired a labourer.

He was a travelling man who showed up at the end of the afternoon. The villagers gathered around him in the twilight to hear his story. His name was Gram and he came from Salisbury. He said his wife and children had been killed when his house burned down. He was on his way to Kingsbridge, where he hoped to get employment, perhaps at the priory. His brother was a monk there.

Gwenda said: “I probably know him. My brother, Philemon, has worked at the priory for years. What’s your brother’s name?”

“John.” There were two monks called John but, before Gwenda could ask which was Gram’s brother, he went on: “When I started out, I had a little money to buy food along the way. Then I was robbed by outlaws, and now I’m pe

There was a lot of sympathy for the man. Wulfric invited him to sleep at his house. The next day, Saturday, he started to work for Wulfric, accepting board and lodging and a share of the harvest as his remuneration.

Gram worked hard all day Saturday. Wulfric was shallow-ploughing his fallow land in Longfield to destroy thistles. It was a two-man job: Gram led the horse, whipping it on when it flagged, while Wulfric guided the plough. On Sunday they rested.

In church on Sunday, Gwenda burst into tears when she saw Cath, Joanie and Eric. She had not realized how badly she missed them. She held Eric through the service. Afterwards, her mother spoke harshly to her. “You’re breaking your heart for that Wulfric. Weeding his strips won’t make him love you. He’s cross-eyed for that worthless A

“I know,” Gwenda said. “But I want to help him anyway.”

“You should leave the village. There’s nothing for you here.”

She knew her mother was right. “I will,” she said. “I’ll leave the day after their wedding.”

Ma lowered her voice. “If you must stay, watch out for your father. He hasn’t given up hope of another twelve shillings.”

“What do you mean?” Gwenda asked.

Ma just shook her head.

“He can’t sell me now,” Gwenda said. “I’ve left his house. He doesn’t feed or shelter me. I work for the lord of Wigleigh. I’m not Pa’s to dispose of any longer.”

“Just watch out,” said Ma, and she would say no more.

Outside the church the travelling man, Gram, talked to Gwenda, asking her questions about herself, and suggested they take a stroll together after di

On Monday, Gwenda was weeding Wulfric’s wheat on Hundredacre in the half-light before sunrise when Wulfric came across the field towards her at a run. His face was grim with fury.

She had continued to defy his wishes, working on his lands every morning and evening, and it looked as if she had driven him too far. What would he do – beat her up? After the way she had provoked him, he could probably do violence to her with impunity – people would say she had asked for it, and she had no one to stick up for her now that she had left her parents’ home. She felt scared. She had seen Wulfric break Ralph Fitzgerald’s nose.