her mistress and the candlelight caught the ugly split in her upper lip, which was one outward sign of her muteness. The other was the too-broad nose with its flaring nostrils, which drew all attention, making most people miss the large and beautiful blue eyes above them. Audris looked only at her maid’s eyes and hands; she was accustomed to the deformity of her face and also to the fact that though others with harelips could grunt or gobble, sometimes even speak in a distorted way, Fritha could make no sounds at all. There were times when Audris noticed that Fritha looked much older than she, although they were only a few years apart—but tonight the lines of ill-usage on her maid’s face did not wake the spark of anger they usually roused.
Fritha put down the spindle from which she had been unwinding a small amount of yarn, shook her head, and held up her fingers, clenched them into a fist, and then repeated the gesture several times.
“You mean I have already tried to explain many times?”
Fritha nodded, and Audris sighed.
“Yes, I know,” Audris continued, “but this is different. I do not know that we will be besieged. I wove it because of what Bruno told me and what I heard him and my uncle say during the evening meal when he was here. I even know what the next picture will be. It will show the besiegers fleeing away at the top, beyond the great wall, and in the center the king and his knights entered into the lower bailey, having come to our rescue. But this is not a real thing that will come to pass, Fritha. I do not really suppose the king will come to Jernaeve. It is only a picture.”
Fritha just shook her head again as she reached up to a particular peg set into the stone wall and took down a hank of yarn. She did not look at the color because it would have been impossible to match color in the dim yellow light of the candles. Nor was it necessary. Each spindle on the rack matched a peg on the wall—except for the special yarns of silk with gold and silver thread, which were kept in a chest—so there could be no mistake. And no matter what Audris said, Fritha would not have believed the weaving was only a picture. She was convinced that her mistress had supernatural powers, but she did not use the word “witch” either. To Fritha that word implied evil, and she knew Lady Audris was good. But Lady Audris could read the words in her mind even when she kept her hands still, and Fritha was sure that whatever appeared in the tapestry would come to pass.
It was just as well that Audris had resisted the impulse to explain to her uncle and aunt how she had come to weave the two-picture panel. Actually, the events of the next month did not match the scenes, except in a very general way, but to those already convinced that Audris could foretell the future in her weaving, her denials would have smacked of dishonesty.
***
A week after Eadyth had rushed down the stairs and related breathlessly that Audris had depicted a siege, Sir William de Summerville brought his army through a breach in the great wall some miles to the east. One halfhearted attempt at assault was thrown back without difficulty, for the defenders were able to rush from all parts of the inner walled area to the place under attack, and Summerville did not have enough men to mount several assaults simultaneously. After being beaten back, Summerville settled his men into camp beyond arrowshot from the eastern wall with a small force to guard the ford. It was not a siege in any real sense because the western wall was not blocked by enemies, so the people in Jernaeve could come and go.
Although Sir Oliver made sure that adequate watch was kept, he was certain the assault had only been a test to determine whether he trusted his tenants to fight, which he did. Unlike the south, where most of the English had been reduced to oppressed serfdom and bitterly hated their Norman overlords, most men in the north were freemen who could bear arms. After
Fritha put down the spindle from which she had been unwinding a small amount of yarn, shook her head, and held up her fingers, clenched them into a fist, and then repeated the gesture several times.
“You mean I have already tried to explain many times?”
Fritha nodded, and Audris sighed.
“Yes, I know,” Audris continued, “but this is different. I do not know that we will be besieged. I wove it because of what Bruno told me and what I heard him and my uncle say during the evening meal when he was here. I even know what the next picture will be. It will show the besiegers fleeing away at the top, beyond the great wall, and in the center the king and his knights entered into the lower bailey, having come to our rescue. But this is not a real thing that will come to pass, Fritha. I do not really suppose the king will come to Jernaeve. It is only a picture.”
Fritha just shook her head again as she reached up to a particular peg set into the stone wall and took down a hank of yarn. She did not look at the color because it would have been impossible to match color in the dim yellow light of the candles. Nor was it necessary. Each spindle on the rack matched a peg on the wall—except for the special yarns of silk with gold and silver thread, which were kept in a chest—so there could be no mistake. And no matter what Audris said, Fritha would not have believed the weaving was only a picture. She was convinced that her mistress had supernatural powers, but she did not use the word “witch” either. To Fritha that word implied evil, and she knew Lady Audris was good. But Lady Audris could read the words in her mind even when she kept her hands still, and Fritha was sure that whatever appeared in the tapestry would come to pass.
It was just as well that Audris had resisted the impulse to explain to her uncle and aunt how she had come to weave the two-picture panel. Actually, the events of the next month did not match the scenes, except in a very general way, but to those already convinced that Audris could foretell the future in her weaving, her denials would have smacked of dishonesty.
***
A week after Eadyth had rushed down the stairs and related breathlessly that Audris had depicted a siege, Sir William de Summerville brought his army through a breach in the great wall some miles to the east. One halfhearted attempt at assault was thrown back without difficulty, for the defenders were able to rush from all parts of the inner walled area to the place under attack, and Summerville did not have enough men to mount several assaults simultaneously. After being beaten back, Summerville settled his men into camp beyond arrowshot from the eastern wall with a small force to guard the ford. It was not a siege in any real sense because the western wall was not blocked by enemies, so the people in Jernaeve could come and go.
Although Sir Oliver made sure that adequate watch was kept, he was certain the assault had only been a test to determine whether he trusted his tenants to fight, which he did. Unlike the south, where most of the English had been reduced to oppressed serfdom and bitterly hated their Norman overlords, most men in the north were freemen who could bear arms. After
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