Pope Joan_ A Novel - Donna Woolfolk Cross [74]
“Child, I cannot help you. You must resign yourself to your fate, which is, after all, natural enough for a woman.” He bent down and whispered, “I have inquired after the young man who is to be your husband. He’s a comely lad; you will not find your lot difficult to bear.”
He signaled the guards, who pried Joan’s hands from the bridle and shoved her back into the crowd. A path opened for her. As she passed through, trying to hide her tears, she heard the villagers’ whispered laughter.
In the rear of the crowd, she saw John. She went to him, but he backed off.
“Stay away!” He scowled. “I hate you!”
“Why? What have I done?”
“You know what you’ve done!”
“John, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“I have to leave Dorstadt!” he cried. “Because of you!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Odo told me, ‘You don’t belong here.’” John mimicked the schoolmaster’s nasal intonation. “‘We only let you stay because of your sister.’”
Joan was shocked. She had been so involved in her own dilemma that she had not thought of the consequences for John. He was a poor student; they’d kept him on only because of his kinship to her.
“This marriage is not of my choosing, John.”
“You’ve always spoiled things for me, and now you’re doing it again!”
“Didn’t you hear what I said to the bishop just now?”
“I don’t care! It’s all your fault. Everything’s always been your fault!”
Joan was puzzled. “You hate book studies. Why do you care if they send you from the schola?”
“You don’t understand.” He looked behind her. “You never understand.”
Joan turned and saw the boys of the schola huddled together. One of them pointed and whispered something to the others, followed by muffled laughter.
So they already know, Joan thought. Of course. Odo would not spare John’s feelings. She regarded her brother with sympathy. It must have been difficult, almost unbearable, for him to be separated from his friends because of her. He had often joined with them against her, but Joan understood why. John never wanted anything more than to be accepted, to belong.
“You’ll be all right, John,” she said soothingly. “You’re free to go home now.”
“Free?” John laughed harshly. “Free as a monk!”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m to go to the monastery at Fulda! Father sent instructions to the bishop after we first arrived. If I failed at the schola, I was to be sent to join the Fulda brotherhood!”
So this was the source of John’s anger. Once consigned to the brotherhood, he would not be able to leave. He would never be a soldier now, nor ride in the Emperor’s army as he had dreamed.
“There may still be a way out,” Joan said. “We can petition the bishop again. Perhaps if we both plead with him, he will—”
Her brother glared at her, his mouth working as he searched for words strong enough to express what he felt. “I … I wish you’d never been born!” He turned and ran.
Dispiritedly, she started back toward Villaris.
JOAN sat by the stream where she and Gerold had embraced only a few weeks ago. An eternity had passed since then. She looked at the sun; it lacked only an hour or two until sext. By this time tomorrow, she would be wed to the farrier’s son.
Unless …
She studied the line of trees marking the edge of the woods. The forest surrounding Dorstadt was dense and broad; a person could hide in there for days, even weeks, without being discovered. It would be a fortnight or more before Gerold returned. Could she survive for that long?
The forest was dangerous; there were wild boars, and aurochs, and … wolves. She remembered the savage violence of Luke’s dam as she fought against the bars of her cage, her sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight.
I’ll take Luke with me, she thought. He will protect me, and help me hunt for food as well. The young wolf was already a skilled hunter of rabbits and other small game, which were plentiful this time of year.
John, she thought. What about John? She couldn’t just run off without letting him know where she had gone.
He can