Part 64 (1/2)
My mother neither looked back at her nor checked her step. She walked from the room without a word. When the door clicked behind her I thought, this is the end. The end for Anne.
”I have done nothing,” Anne repeated. She turned to me and I thought of the potion from the witch and the night that she lay in the secret room with a gold mask over her face, like a bird's beak. I thought of her journey to the gates of h.e.l.l and back to get this child for England.
The midwife turned away. ”I shall have to tell the king.”
At once I was between her and the door, barring her way. ”You are not to distress His Majesty,” I said. ”He would not want to know this. These are women's secrets, they should be kept among women. Let us keep this between ourselves and deal with it privately and you shall have the queen's favor, and mine. I shall see that you are well paid for tonight's work and for your discretion. I shall see that you are well paid, Mistress. I promise you.”
She did not even glance up at me. She was holding the bundle wrapped in her arms, the horror of it hidden by the swaddling bands. For one dreadful moment I thought I saw it move, I imagined the little flayed hand putting the cloth aside. She lifted it up toward my face, and I shrank back from it. She took her chance and opened the door.
”You shan't go to the king!” I swore, clinging to her arm.
”Don't you know?” she asked me, her voice almost pitying. ”Don't you know that I am his servant already? That he sent me here to watch and listen for him? I was appointed for this from the moment that the queen first missed her courses.”
”Why?” I gasped.
”Because he doubts her.”
I put my hand to the wall to support me, my head was whirling. ”Doubts her?”
She shrugged. ”He did not know what was wrong with her that she could not carry a child.” She nodded to the limp huddle of cloth. ”Now he will know.”
I licked my dry lips. ”I will pay you anything you ask, to put that down and go to the king and tell him that she has lost a baby but she is able to conceive another,” I said. ”Whatever he is paying you, I will double it. I am a Boleyn, we are not without influence and wealth. You can be one of the Howard servants for the rest of your life.”
”This is my duty,” she said. ”I have been doing it since I was a young girl. I have made a solemn vow to the Virgin Mary never to fail in my task.”
”What task?” I demanded wildly. ”What duty? What are you talking about now?”
”Witch-taking,” she said simply. And then she slipped out of the door with the devil's baby in her arms and was gone.
I shut the door on her and slid the bolt. I wanted no one to come into the room until the mess was cleaned up, and Anne fit to fight for her life.
”What did she say?” she asked.
Her skin was white and waxy. Her dark eyes were like chips of gla.s.s. She was far away from this hot little room and the sense of danger.
”Nothing of importance.”
”What did she say?”
”Nothing. Why don't you sleep now?”
Anne glared at me. ”I will never believe it,” she said flatly, as if she were talking not to me, but to some inquisition. ”You can never make me believe it. I am not some ignorant peasant crying over a relic which is chipwood and pig's blood. I will not be turned from my way by silly fears. I will think and I will do, and I will make the world to my own desire.”
”Anne?”
”I won't be frightened by nothing,” she said staunchly.
”Anne?”
She turned her face away from me, to the wall.
As soon as she was asleep I opened the door and called a Howard-Madge Shelton-into the room to sit with her. The maids swept away the bloodstained sheets and brought clean rushes for the floor. Outside in the presence chamber, the court was waiting for news, the ladies half-dozing, their heads in their hands, some people playing cards to while away the time. George was leaning against a wall in low-voiced conversation with Sir Francis, heads as close as lovers.
William came toward me and took my hand, and I paused for a moment and drew strength from his touch.
”It's bad,” I said shortly. ”I can't tell you now. I have to tell Uncle something. Come with me.”
George was at my side at once. ”How is she?”
”The baby's dead,” I said shortly.
I saw him blanch as white as a maid and he crossed himself. ”Where's Uncle?” I asked, looking round.
”Waiting for news in his rooms like the rest of them.”
”How's the queen?” someone asked me.
”Has she lost the baby?” someone else said.
George stepped forward. ”The queen is sleeping,” he said. ”Resting. She bids you all to go to your beds and in the morning there will be news of her condition.”
”Did she lose the baby?” someone pressed George, looking at me.
”How should I know?” George said blandly, and there was an irritated buzz of disbelief.
”It's dead then,” someone said. ”What is wrong with her that she cannot give him a son?”
”Come on,” William said to George. ”Let's get out of here. The more you say, the worse it will get.”
With my husband and my brother on either side of me we pushed out through the court and down the stair to Uncle Howard's chambers. His dark-liveried servant let us in without a word. My uncle was at the big table, some papers spread out before him, a candle throwing a yellow glow all around the room.
When we entered he nodded to the servant to stir the fire and light another branch of candles.
”Yes?” he asked.
”Anne went into labor and gave birth to a dead baby,” I said flatly.
He nodded, his grave face showing no emotion.
”There were things wrong with it,” I said.
”What sort of things?”
”Its back was flayed open, and its head was big,” I said. I could feel my throat tightening in disgust and I gripped William's hand a little tighter. ”It was a monster.”