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Casting a sneer at the elderly physician's back, de Tichborneturned and also left the room. He paced to the reception hall,retrieved his shoes, buckled them on, and stamped up the broad,sweeping staircase to the gallery above. Here he stopped andemptied his goblet. He tossed it over the balustrade and wiped hismouth as the tin vessel clattered on the tiled floor below. Heproceeded along a corridor to his wife's bedchamber.
One of her nurses, sitting outside the room, stood as heapproached the door. She curtseyed and moved aside.
He ran his eyes appreciatively over the girl then pushed openthe portal and entered the dimly lit room without a
“Art thou living, wife?”
There came movement from the large four-poster bed, and atremulous voice, directed at the two nurses who sat beside it,said: “Leave us.”
“Yes, ma'am,” they chorused, and bobbing at the squire as theypassed him, they hurried out to join their colleague in thehallway.
De Tichborne closed the door after them.
“Come thou here,” the Lady Mabella whispered.
He paced over to her and looked down in disgust at her wrinkledface, sunken cheeks, and long white hair.
The eyes that looked back at him were of the blackest jet.
“I have but a short time,” she said.
“Hallelujah!” he responded.
“Drunken sot!” she exclaimed. “Hast thou no mercy in thy soul?Art thou in truth so barren of feeling? There were times-distant,aye-when thou held me close to thy bosom!”
“Ancient history, old woman.”
“’Tis so. I shall be well rid of thee, Roger, when I pass, forthou art a brute and a whoremonger!”
“Say what thou wilt. I care not. So long as thou go to judgementby morn!”
The woman struggled to push herself into a sitting position. DeTichborne watched coldly, not raising a finger to help. Finally,she managed to drag herself up a little and rested back on herpillow.
“The final judgement troubles me little, husband, for have I notgiven to the poor of this parish through every sad year that Iabided here? It is my final wish that thou shalt do the same.”
“Ha! I'll be damned!”
“Of that I am certain. Nevertheless, I would have the deTichbornes donate, during the Feast of the A
“The blazes they will!”
“Payest thou this dole, husband, or I avow, with my very lastbreath I shall curse thee and thy offspring forevermore!”
Sir Roger blanched. “Have I not suffered thy evil eyesufficiently?” he muttered uneasily.
“For all thou hast inflicted upon me? Nay, there can be naughtsufficient for that!” the old woman croaked. “Wilt thouconcede?”
The squire looked down at his dying wife. His mouth was twistedwith hatred and his eyes glinted horribly in the faintcandlelight.
“I shall do as thou command me,” he growled, after a long pause.“But with one provision: it shall be thou who sets the levy!”
The old woman regarded her husband, blinking in puzzlement.
“What is this?” she exclaimed. “Thou biddest me to choose theamount of the a
“In a ma
Lady Mabella gasped in horror. “What sayest thou? Surely to Godthou ca
“Then crawl,” de Tichborne snarled. “Crawl!”
He strode to the door, yanked it open, and bellowed: “Nurses!Take thy mistress from the bed and dress her! At once!”
The three young women, waiting outside the bedroom, looked ateach other in confusion.
“My lord?” stuttered one. “What-what-?”
“Question me not, wench! Have her clothed and on the steps ofthe house good and prompt, or by God's teeth you'll suffer!”
He shoved them aside and stamped away, calling for Hobson, whomet him at the bottom of the stairs. The valet had a twisted andbloodied handkerchief hanging from his left nostril.
“Bringest thou two bottles of Bordeaux up from the cellar, andbe brisk about it!” de Tichborne ordered. “I shall be outside, atthe front of the house!”
He then paced down the hall, joined Physician Jankyn in thelibrary, and cried: “Here, Jankyn! Follow! We are to be rightentertained!”
He led the mystified physician out, and to the lobby.
“Assist me. I would take this bench outside.”
He indicated an oak bench beside the wall near the entrance.Together, they lifted it and took it through the big double doors,across the portico, down the steps, and over the carriageway to theborder of the wheat fields.
“Sit, man!”
Jankyn sat. He shivered. The sky was clear and the full moonradiated a penetrating chill.
Squire Roger de Tichborne settled beside him and chuckled tohimself.
Hobson emerged from the mansion and brought over the winebottles. De Tichborne took them and handed one to Jankyn.
“Now,” he snapped at the valet, “I require three brands and aflint to light them. Hurry, fool!”
Hobson scuttled away.
De Tichborne used his teeth to pull the cork, and took a swigfrom his bottle.
“Drink!” he ordered Jankyn.
“My lord, I-”
“Drink!”
Jankyn raised the bottle to his mouth, extracted the cork, andtook a sip.
They sat in silence until the valet returned. De Tichborne stucka brand in the earth at either end of the bench and lit them. Hesaved the third, holding it in his hand. He dismissed Hobson.
“Ah!” he breathed, moments later, looking back at the house.
Physician Jankyn turned and let out a cry of dismay at what hesaw.
Lady Mabella, held upright by her nurses, had tottered out ofthe door and was descending the steps, a frail old woman, seeminglylittle more than a shroud-wrapped skeleton. In truth, she wasbarely clothed, having pulled a gown around her night garments,draped a shawl over the top of it, and pushed her feet intoslippers.
“Blessed Mary, mother of God!” Jankyn exclaimed. “What meansthis?”
“Do not thou interfere, Physician, I caution thee!”
Jankyn raised the bottle to his lips again, and this time hetook a large gulp.
They waited, while slowly, painfully, the dying woman totteredcloser.
“Hail to thee, wife!” de Tichborne bellowed. “It is a merrynight, if a little chilly!” He laughed.
The woman, who would have fallen at his feet were it not for thestrength of her nurses, stood trembling before him.
“Thou art bent on this course?” she wheezed.
“Thou it was who demanded the dole,” he answered, “so the chargefor the levy falls upon thy shoulders. Wouldst thou retract thyfinal wish?”
“Nay.”
“Then take this brand. Yonder lay the wheat fields.”
He turned to the physician. “My dear Jankyn, the Lady Mabellahath commanded that I do make an a
Jankyn, who had stood at the lady's arrival, now fell back uponthe bench in shock.
“She can barely walk, my lord!” he gasped.
De Tichborne ignored him and lit the brand. He held it out tohis wife.
“Take it. Order thy nurses away. Show thou to me what I must setaside for charity. Thou hast until the brand is done.”
A bony hand reached forth and took the guttering torch.Bottomless black eyes held de Tichborne's for a moment. A toothlessmouth muttered: “Leave me!”
The nurses stepped away.
Lady Mabella swayed for a moment. With her joints cracking, shethen turned and hobbled to the edge of the field.
The squire laughed wickedly and swigged his wine. He satdown.
Speechless, helpless, Physician Jankyn watched as the old womanfell to her knees and began to crawl, supporting herself with onehand while holding the brand with the other.