He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“I know you probably don’t believe me, but it is the truth, and you need to know because they may try to hurt you again.” She allowed her determination to infuse her voice. “After the men ran away, I jumped in and raised your head out of the water. I wasn’t strong enough to pull you up the bank and was calling for help. That’s when Sabina came and helped me drag you out. I am not telling you this for any sort of thanks or reward, but to put you on your guard. Truly, I hope you will take some precautions.”
“And who were these two murderous men?”
“I have never seen them before or since.”
Another twist of his lips. He did not believe her.
“I shall go now. I only wanted to ask your forgiveness and to warn you about those men so you will be careful.”
She turned and hurried away as tears blurred her vision.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day Westley stood by the well talking with Reeve Folsham. Several men had come from the field to get a drink at the well.
Eva and Nicola approached with their buckets. The men respectfully stood back and let them draw water, even helping them haul it up.
Just then a familiar voice called out, “Westley!”
“John.” Normally Westley would greet his friend with a jovial clap on the back. But the last time he’d seen John flooded his mind, the tension and accusations.
But today John was smiling. “Good morning, Westley. A pleasant day, is it not?”
“How are you?” Westley took a step toward him, then someone yelled.
“Stop! These are the men!” Eva pointed at John and his servant, Roger Cox.
“What?”
Everyone was staring at Eva as if she had lost her mind.
“These are the two men who tried to kill you!”
John’s face paled and he took a step back. Westley’s own face grew hot. “You are mistaken, Eva. These men would never—”
“I am not mistaken! I saw this man strike you and push you into the river.” She pointed at John again.
“That is enough. Go back to the house.” How dare she accuse his best friend of trying to kill him? Would the girl never stop lying?
She stared back at him. Her cheeks were red and she pressed her lips together, her eyes sparking with green fire. She picked up her buckets and glared at John.
“What is this about?” John chuckled nervously.
“She is addled,” one of the men said.
“She’s been pretending to be mute when she first came here.”
“Full of stories.”
The men laughed, including John and Roger Cox.
Eva lifted her chin and stalked off, carrying her buckets of water.
Westley stared after her, his stomach churning. Surely she was wrong about John.
Westley and John made small talk. “We are on our way to meet with the men of Ox Creek about . . .”
Westley’s mind wandered while John talked. Soon John and Roger took their leave from him and continued on their way down the road. The reeve’s eyes narrowed as he stared after John and Roger. Did he suspect Eva was telling the truth?
Westley hated that Eva’s words had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. His friend had changed quite a bit in the last two years since the Peasants’ Uprising, but surely John would not have tried to kill him. Surely this was just another one of Eva’s deceptions.
Either way, he felt sick in his stomach as he made his way back to the house with Reeve Folsham.
Nicola caught up with Evangeline on their way back to the castle. “You can speak?”
Evangeline cringed. “I’m sorry I pretended to be mute. Westley knows. And now he thinks I’m lying, but, Nicola, I’m not lying. Those men struck Westley in the head and pushed him into the river.”
“But, Eva, do you know who those men are?”
“No.”
“John Underhill and one of his servants. John owns all the land on the other side of the river and the entire village of Caversdown. He is Westley’s best friend.”
No wonder Westley had been angry.
After a few moments of silence, Nicola expelled a breath of air. “Why did you do it? Why did you pretend to be mute?”
“I was trying to make sure the man who wanted to marry me would not find me. It actually worked, for they came after me the first day after I escaped, but they thought I was mute.”
“I’m glad it worked. And I’m glad you can speak.”
“Thank you, Nicola. You have been kinder to me than anyone, and I hope I can repay your kindness someday.”
The next morning it was still dark as they walked toward the barn to milk the cows. Evangeline and Nicola entered the barn, found two short stools, and started milking. Or Nicola started milking.
“I’m squeezing but nothing’s coming out.” Evangeline spoke softly so as not to frighten the cow. She kept a wary eye on the heavy back hoof of the enormous animal.
“You have to squeeze and pull down,” Nicola said from the cow beside hers, “but gently, like you’re working your hands down the teat.”
Evangeline tried again. A tiny squirt of milk hit the bucket below. She closed her eyes and concentrated, resting her cheek against the soft, warm coat of the cow’s side, squeezing and running her hands in a downward motion again and again. More milk started to flow until she finally managed a mighty spurt of white liquid with each squeeze-pull. She was much slower than Nicola, but at least she was doing it. And the soft, fleshy teats did not hurt her open blisters the way the carding brush handles did.
Nicola milked two and a half cows before Evangeline’s cow ran out of milk.
“I’m sorry I’m making you do more work since I’m so slow.”
“You caught on fast, and you’ll be as fast as me in a few days.”
“You are very generous to say so.” Evangeline picked up her full bucket and carried it to the door of the barn.
When Nicola finished the fourth cow, she took up two of the buckets and Evangeline picked up Nicola’s other one, and they walked toward the kitchen. Even if she was a lot slower than Nicola, her chest filled with air at the bucket full of milk in her hand.
The sun was just brightening the sky. Halfway to the kitchen, Evangeline saw Sabina coming toward them. Just behind Sabina strode Reeve Folsham and Westley, heading toward the fields.
“Nicola and Eva! Up and working so early this morning,” Sabina exclaimed, breaking the hush of the semidarkness.
“What are you doing up so early, Sabina?” Nicola asked her.
Sabina smiled, looking up at the sky. “My father sent me to borrow some eggs.”
Just as Sabina reached them, she stuck out her foot and tripped Evangeline.
Evangeline stumbled and cried out, struggling to hang on to the milk and not fall on her face. She landed on her knees on the hard ground. Milk sloshed from the buckets, but she managed to keep them upright.
Reeve Folsham was suddenly at her side, Westley hurrying to her other side. Together they helped her to her feet as she kept hold of the buckets.
“Are you hurt?” Westley asked her.
“No.” She hid her grimace of pain as she put her weight on her knee.
“Are you injured?” Sabina pretended to look concerned as she leaned close to Evangeline’s face. “That looked like a hard fall.”
Evangeline drew herself up and ignored her.
Reeve Folsham stared.
Sabina faced him. “You may have noticed that Eva screamed and spoke. It seems she can talk after all. Isn’t that right, Eva? I’m sure everyone will be so pleased that you can talk.”
Nicola was giving her a look of sympathy, and Evangeline felt rather than saw the others staring at her. She hurried on toward the house.
She blinked back tears—more of rage at Sabina than of pain in her knee, which was slowly fading.
Sabina was determined to have Westley for herself. Well, let her have him. Westley t
hought she was the lowest liar now that she had accused his best friend of trying to kill him, and Evangeline was practically betrothed to Lord Shiveley. Westley would probably turn her over to him when he found out Evangeline’s true identity.
Once in the kitchen, Golda instructed her to pour one of the buckets of milk into a large pottery bowl on her worktable. Evangeline struggled to lift the bucket high enough. She bit her lip and concentrated on not spilling it. Finally, she had emptied every drop into the bowl.
“There is less than usual in these buckets,” Golda said. “Did you spill it?”
“I spilled a little.”
The head cook looked startled at hearing Evangeline speak.
“She fell,” Nicola supplied behind her. “But it was because Sabina tripped her. Eva saved most of the milk.”
Golda stared at them both for a few seconds. “Very well. Take the rest of the milk to the dairy and start churning.”
Evangeline followed Nicola with the remaining buckets to a small stone building at the edge of the woods behind the castle and to the east of the kitchen. There were no windows and one lit torch to light their way down some stone steps.
“Have you ever churned butter?”
“No.”
“It isn’t difficult.” Nicola set down her buckets in a corner of the room, which was quite cool belowground. The dungeon at Berkhamsted Castle must feel about the same.
Evangeline set her bucket beside it, then watched as Nicola picked up another bucket sitting on the opposite side of the room.
“We don’t use the fresh milk. We use the milk from the previous milking, which was last night.”
“Why?”
“I don’t exactly know. Maybe to give the butter a slightly sour flavor.” Nicola approached a large square barrel that lay on its side and had a hole in the top. “So you pour the milk into here.” She poured in the milk—a bucket and a half—and closed up the hole. Then she poured the other bucket and a half in a second churn—an upright one on the floor—and Evangeline sat and used the wooden paddle to agitate the creamy milk inside while Nicola turned a handle on the side of the barrel-like churn. They occasionally switched places, as their arms grew tired of the repetitive motion.
Evangeline had to wrap her hands in some discarded cheese-cloths to keep the wooden handles from chafing her blistered hands as badly.
“Don’t your hands hurt?” Nicola asked when she saw the bloody mess on the palms of Evangeline’s hands.
“Not as much anymore.”
“You should be careful they don’t become septic. You should ask for some of Lady le Wyse’s salve she uses on wounds.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Evangeline had something else on her mind—the fact that Westley, or someone else, could turn her over to Lord Shiveley’s or King Richard’s men. And if that happened and Evangeline did find herself in that man’s power, she wanted to be able to defend herself against him.
“Nicola?”
“Yes?” Nicola calmly rotated the handle on the butter churn. She was quite pretty, with her pale-blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back in a single braid.
“How would I go about learning archery and sword fighting and knife throwing? Is there someone who might teach me?”
Nicola smiled. “Why would you want to learn those things? I don’t know any women who know how to sword fight.”
“Is it strange that I want to learn those things?”
“I suppose not. But why do you want to?”
Evangeline took a deep breath. “I might need to protect myself.”
“Glynval is a safe place, mostly. I have never had to defend myself from anyone trying to harm me. Although I did see what Sabina did to you, tripping you in the yard.”
“Sabina does not like me very much.”
“Sabina doesn’t like anyone she thinks might catch Westley le Wyse’s attention.”
Evangeline smiled ruefully at the accuracy of Nicola’s statement, then they both laughed. She was immediately struck with the thought that she had not laughed enough in her life, and to laugh with a friend was quite lovely.
“A lot of people think Westley will marry her, but I hope he will not be that stupid. She isn’t the kindest person. But you’ve already seen that.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Did someone hurt you? Is that why you want to learn how to fight?”
“No. But there is someone . . . someone I might have to defend myself against someday.”
“Reeve Folsham knows knife throwing and archery. He regularly teaches some of the servants, as well as his daughters. His daughters, I am told, can defeat any man who might be foolish enough to try to harm them. As for sword fighting, Westley is the best at that.”
Evangeline would have to stay alert to opportunities to learn some fighting skills.
Looking for the reeve, Evangeline stood outside the dairy and searched the men coming back from the fields that afternoon. But after several minutes she still did not see him. She also kept a wary eye out for Sabina.
It was Evangeline’s turn to help serve dinner to the other servants. She was late, so she ran across the courtyard toward the kitchen behind the castle. When she reached the kitchen door, someone called, “Eva! Wait.”
Sabina hurried toward her. She carried something inside her apron as she held the hem up to her chest. Behind Sabina, Evangeline spotted Reeve Folsham.
“Golda asked me to pick these mushrooms for the pottage tonight,” Sabina said to Evangeline. “She will be so angry with me if I don’t get them into the pot immediately. Please, won’t you take them in for me? I have to go home and help my little sister. Please? I’m sorry for making you fall this morning.”
Evangeline stared. Part of her wanted to turn away from Sabina without a word and ignore her request. But she also wanted to show she was not as heartless as Sabina—and if she didn’t hurry, she’d miss getting to speak to the reeve before he left. So she held out her own apron and let Sabina dump the mushrooms inside.
“Thank you, Eva!” Sabina ran back the way she had come.
“Reeve Folsham,” she called as he was walking past. “May I speak to you a moment?”
The large man walked toward her.
“I wonder if you might be willing to teach me how to throw a knife or how to shoot a bow and arrow.”
He looked at her askance. “Can you be trusted with knives?”
Her face burned as she realized what he was thinking of. “I-I only thought . . . if you were teaching a group of-of men, you might let me watch.”
“It is good for girl children, especially ones as fair as you, to learn how to defend themselves.” His expression was sober. “The next time Mistress Alice gives you some time away from work, come and find me and I’ll teach you.”
“Oh, thank you, Reeve Folsham. Thank you.”
He nodded and walked on. He did not eat with the other servants but went to his own home for his evening meals.
Evangeline’s shoulders felt lighter, and she couldn’t help smiling.
She looked down at the mushrooms in her apron and remembered what Sabina had asked her to do. Perhaps she was not such a bad person, and Evangeline might win Sabina’s good opinion the way she had won Reeve Folsham’s. Sabina had even said she was sorry for tripping her. Perhaps she was sincere.
Evangeline strode over to the large pot bubbling over the cook fire and dumped the contents of her apron inside. Golda’s back was turned as she inspected the bread that was being drawn out of the oven. When she saw Evangeline, she said, “Go take those trenchers to the table.”
Evangeline placed the slabs of stale bread at regular intervals on the trestle table. Then she filled all the goblets with ale. Next she helped slice the fresh bread and put it on a wooden serving platter, then took it in and set it in the middle of the table. The other servants were starting to come in and sit down.
“Eva, can you help spoon up the pottage into the bowls?” Golda pointed to the stack of wooden bowls
in the corner.
Evangeline grabbed the stack of bowls while someone else spooned the pottage into them. She took two bowls at a time to set beside the trencher at each place. Meanwhile, another servant dished a portion of roast pork and gravy onto their trenchers.
The workers began arriving, sat down, and started to eat. Suddenly one of the men spit something forcibly from his mouth.
“What is it, Robert?” the servant beside him asked.
“Poison! Poison mushrooms in this pottage.”
Several people cried out or stood up. Several others spit their food back into their bowls or into their hands.
“Who did this?” a large man with beefy arms demanded. “Who would put poison mushrooms into the pottage?”
Chapter Fourteen
Chaos swelled as everyone spoke at once. Then a voice rose above the others.
“Someone wants to kill us.”
“It was the new maiden,” a woman said. “The one who pretended she couldn’t talk. I saw her put the mushrooms in the pottage when she thought no one was looking.”
“No, I didn’t know.” Evangeline’s knees trembled and her face started to tingle.
Angry eyes turned on her.
“I saw you,” the maidservant Cecily said. “I saw you put them in the pottage.”
Voices rose so loud Evangeline could not hope to be heard.
“Who is she? Why is she trying to kill us?”
“She’s the one who claimed to be mute! She’s a liar. No one even knows where she came from.”
“She wants to kill us all.”
“Take her out and flog her!”
Hands grabbed her by the arms and shoulders. They began pushing and pulling her toward the door.
“No! Stop!” She struggled against them, trying to pull her arms free, but they only squeezed her harder. Her heart pounded and her vision began to spin. Would she faint? What would they do to her?
Muriel was arguing with them as they dragged Evangeline through the doorway and into the waning light of late afternoon. But they were not listening. Muriel’s voice was lost in the shouting.