Mary drags the little boat out in front of the infant. He is enthralled at once and forgets to cry. He paddles across to it on his chubby little knees and tiny hands. He dabs at the boat with his dimpled fingers, then he sees the bread. He cannot yet say the word, but he knows what it is. And it is just the right size for a tiny mouth. He grabs the piece of bread in his fat little fist and pushes the end of it into his mouth. He sucks frantically, contentedly, gurgling happily like the river which runs on and on outside in the darkness.
One day soon, that little boy will begin to have strange dreams, dreams that will terrify and thrill him. Dreams of blood in far off lands that he cannot begin to understand, but he will know the terror of them. And he will learn to use the power running through his fingers and feel it surging in his veins: the power to hurt, the desire to wound and the passion to murder.
For Gytha the cunning woman did speak the truth about one thing — you cannot rid yourself of a mandrake by casting it away. When Elena finds her son again, I, Yadua, will be waiting for her. The worth of a mandrake is measured in blood and Elena must pay that price, if not with her own life, then with her little son's. There are still thorns left in the little wizened apple and Gytha will use them well. She can wait, she is used to biding her time; she was born into the waiting.
For as Madron so wisely said, Yadua will not let you rest in this world or the next, until the price has been paid in full.'
Historical Notes
The Interdict which was imposed on England on 2 3 March 1208 was formally lifted six years later on 29 June 1214 after King John, in order to avert a papal-backed French invasion, finally agreed to the demands of Pope Innocent III. These were that John should finally accept Stephen Langton as Archbishop of Canterbury and that he should recall all the exiled bishops, priests and laity. John also offered the English Church 100,000 marks in compensation for his confiscation of their property. The Pope agreed to this sum, but the English bishops grumbled it was not nearly enough to compensate them for what he had seized or destroyed, or for their lost revenue whilst the churches were closed.
Both contemporary chroniclers and modern historians differ widely on just what effect the Interdict had on the people. Some eyewitnesses claimed it devastated life in England, others that it had little impact on the ordinary man in the street. Naturally it was in the interests of those on John's side to claim that the Interdict was having no effect. However, the Church and John's critics claimed that the population were on the brink of despair, so distraught were they by the churches being locked against them and being denied the comforts of their faith.
Even in these modern days of instant communication, we hear wildly different reports about the effect of industrial action, depending on whether you're speaking to striking unions or to the management. And allies in war can make contradictory claims about incidents, which in turn bear no relation at all to those reports given by their enemies. In terms of the Interdict, the impact probably varied considerably depending on where you lived, how strictly the clergy in that diocese carried out their instructions and whether or not John had a personal quarrel with your local bishop.
Equally, we shall probably never know the truth about why Richard Coeur-de-Lion massacred the Saracen prisoners at Acre. Deserted only a few days before by his former ally, Philip II of France, Richard was left to supply and finance all the remaining troops. He was anxious to march on Jerusalem and he did not have the resources to feed and guard several thousand prisoners indefinitely. He may have thought that Saladin was deliberately trying to delay the prisoner exchange to buy time in order to reinforce his own army before Richard could reach Jerusalem.
Alternatively, Richard might have believed the rumour that Saladin had already killed the Christian prisoners and had no intention of handing over the ransom Richard was demanding for the Muslim hostages. After all, the terms of the surrender of Acre had been negotiated with the leaders of the city, not Saladin himself, who'd been angered by the surrender. Whatever the reason, when Acre was later retaken by the Muslims, all Christians in the city were then slaughtered, possibly in retaliation for Richard's act.
I've heard people say we should view these events within the context of a very brutal time. Yet what Richard did clearly shocked and outraged Saladin and many contemporary chroniclers, so they must have considered the act unusual even for those times. And whilst, as a novelist, I firmly believe we must try to see medieval events through the prism of medieval morality and belief, I can't help worrying that future generations might look back on the twentieth century and try to excuse the massacres of the Holocaust or of Rwanda and Bosnia and many others, because they were committed in 'the context of a brutal century'. Perhaps the sad truth is that human behaviour really hasn't improved since the Middle Ages.
In the early Christian Church, some devout monks and hermits practised self-castration as a pious act in order to purge their flesh of lust, but by the Middle Ages the Catholic Church had forbidden the castration of monks because of the Old Testament instruction in Deuteronomy 23:1 prohibiting those 'wounded in the stones' from serving in the temple.
Eunuchs and castrati were greatly despised among the general populace, even though castration was used as a 'cure' for hernias. Castration was largely reserved for the punishment of so-called sexual 'crimes', especially of those accused of homosexuality. Noble-born husbands might take revenge on men who had affairs with their wives or daughters by castrating them, as we find in the medieval tale Parzival, written around 1200, which was the origin of the opera Parsifal.
For centuries, castration was used to humiliate prisoners conquered in battle. In 1282 at Palermo, 2000 French prisoners were castrated then killed after the battle of the Sicilian Vespers. This practice continued for centuries, and even at the battle of Culloden in 1746 it was reported that the English cut off the genitals of the fallen Scottish Highlanders.
But there was a hidden side to all this. From the very beginning of church music, castrati were employed in the Byzantine church choirs. Since these choirs did not use musical instruments and women were forbidden to sing, they needed a tremendous vocal range and resonance to achieve the effect the composers desired. To this end, boys between the ages of eight and twelve had their testicles removed to preserve their voices and create the angelic vocal range demanded by the music. This left them as adults able to achieve full sexual function, but they were, of course, sterile. Prepubescent castration caused a distinctive physical growth pattern including unusually long limbs, together with a marked gain in body fat in later life.
By the 1100s this practice of using castrati in choirs had been incorporated by both the Armenian and Georgian Churches. In Italy and Sicily the presence of castrati voices in church choirs is documented as far back as the third century, and Bishop Ambrose of Milan (340—97) is credited with the introduction of the Eastern model of singing in his churches. Choir schools to train boys and castrati were set up in the fourth and fifth centuries and one of the most famous, the schola cantorum, still operates today to train boy choristers.
Several centres for castration were later established in Italy, and even the monastery at Monte Cassino eventually had its own castration facilities to create castrati for the choir. By the fifteenth century, castrati were well established in all the best Catholic Church choirs in Europe, including the Vatican, but because of the prohibition in Deuteronomy the singers were officially referred to as sopranos, falsettos or even Spagnoletti — Spanish voices.
By the eighteenth century, castrati were also employed in the opera companies, and many famous operatic arias which are today sung by women were originally written for castrati. Renowned castrati appeared in all the great opera houses of Europe including London, and were feted as international superstars are today.
Alessandro Moreschi was the last castrato at the Vatican. He is believed to have been castrated around 865/66. His voice was captured on gramophone recordings made between 1902 and 1904, and he died in 192
2.
Gastmere is a fictional village based on those villages in the medieval marshlands between Norwich and Yarmouth. Gast in old English means spirit and in Middle English ghost. Mere of course meant marshland.
The beautiful medieval city of Norwich is, of course, real, and you can still visit the streets in Mancroft where Elena walked, as well as have a drink in the Adam and Eve pub, which is one of the oldest inns in England, with a fascinating history of smuggling in centuries past, though now it is entirely law- abiding and respectable.
The town of Great Yarmouth on the Norfolk coast was founded on a sandbank in the mouth of an estuary. In medieval times it was an island, originally inhabited by fishermen who came from the Cinque Ports to fish for the shoals of herring, a staple food of the Middle Ages. The fish were found in great numbers off the coast in autumn. By the 1200s Great Yarmouth was an important international trading post, holding a Free Herring Fair which lasted for forty days from Michaelmas to Martinmas, and the herrings from Yarmouth were sold all over Europe as far as the Middle East.
But unlike many other medieval towns, because it emerged from the 'beach' or coastline, it was owned by the king himself and not by a local lord. Therefore none of the citizens were freemen and were obliged to pay heavy taxes to marry and inherit land. Trade was being crippled by the huge tolls Yarmouth merchants had to pay to do business in neighbouring towns. So knowing that King John was desperate for money to fight against France, in 1209 the men of Yarmouth persuaded John to grant them a charter making them a free port, for which they would pay him 5 5 pounds a year, a good deal more than he was getting from them in taxes. This charter allowed the citizens of Yarmouth to trade without tax anywhere in England, except London, whilst at the same time they could collect tolls from any outside or foreign merchants who wanted to trade in Yarmouth.
For anyone interested in finding out more about the fascinating and unique history of Yarmouth, the town now has some wonderful museums which have been installed in the old fish smokehouses.
Glossary
Bub — An old Lincolnshire and East Anglian dialect word for an unfledged bird or an inexperienced person.
Cog-ships - were the cargo ships of Europe in the Middle Ages, sailing across the Baltic and the North Sea up as far as Norway. These ships would have been familiar sights in the English Channel and round the coast of Northern Europe and in all the ports. The term cog comes from the construction of the vessel, which has square beams of wood protruding from the sides of the hull to enhance its strength. A cog-ship had a single mast with a square sail of about 200sq m or 2050sq ft. There was a raised platform in the stern, which resembled the turret of a castle, from which arrows could be fired to defend the ship, should the need arise. Poisonous gases which built up in the stagnant bilge water in the hold meant it was frequently too dangerous for the crew to sleep below deck when off duty, so they often slept on deck beneath the castle, which provided some protection from wind and rain. From sunken vessels found preserved in the mud, the typical length of a cog-ship was about 24m or 75 ft in length with a mast around 25m or 80ft high.
Daul — Dialect word meaning to weary, to wear out or to exhaust. 'Dauled' means worn out, tired and limp.
Dung drag - A three-pronged rake with the metal prongs or tines set at right angles to the long wooden handle. Compass, a mixture of animal dung and soiled straw, was taken out to fields in a cart. A man known as Sir Wag walked behind the cart using the dung drag to pull down the compass on to the field. The long handle ensured he did not get covered in the smelly manure as he raked it down.
Eena, deena, etc. — Many country people, right up to last century, counted in multiples of four or eight when counting livestock or produce. Some say it is because we have four fingers, other have suggested it is easy to pick out four sheep at a glance without counting them individually. Pebbles, beans or notches on a stick would be used to keep track of how many fours had been counted. There has been much speculation as to the origins of the names of the numbers, which vary widely from district to district, but they may be vestiges of older tribal languages which survived long after the language itself ceased to be used.
Frestelles — A musical instrument which looked like panpipes.
Green Mist Babies - A rural expression meaning a baby born in springtime, when the fields and trees appear to be covered with a bright green mist as seeds begin to germinate and buds break open. Babies carried over winter and born in spring were likely to be of low birthweight because of the lack of fresh meat, eggs and vegetables in the mother's diet. Many were stillborn or died within hours, but those that survived the birth had the good warm days of spring and summer when the mother's milk was richer to build up strength before winter. In contrast, autumn babies were often bigger when born, but frequently sickened and died during that first winter.
Herbal - Some readers may query the inclusion of insects, animals and minerals in the Mandrake's Herbal. But in the Middle Ages, and indeed even as late as Culpeper (1616—1654), herbals included remedies and cures made from all kinds of things including animals, birds, reptiles, insects, stones, gems and animal excrement, in addition to the herbs and plants we would expect t6 find in a modern herbal.
Hurdy-gurdy - We think of it as a relatively modern musical instrument, but in fact it was well known in the Middle Ages. It was rested on the knee and played by turning a wheel. Buttons were pressed down on to the strings to produce the notes. Before the twelfth century two people were required to play it, but later designs meant that it could be played by a single musician.
Leet of Mancroft - Norwich was initially divided into four administrative districts known as leets, which reflected the Anglo- Saxon development of the town. Most of the properties belonging to Jews were recorded in the Mancroft area immediately to the west of the castle, to which the Jews could flee for protection in times of trouble. This area also contained many of the markets where they did most of their trade. There was a synagogue in Mancroft, but this was not a ghetto, because some Jews lived outside this area, and equally Christians also lived in Mancroft, some of whom may even have rented houses from the Jews.
Nocturns — One of the daily Catholic Church services. Nocturns was the medieval name for the office of Matins, which, up to the eleventh century, was known as vigiliae or vigils. The service of Nocturns originally began at midnight, except for those living under Benedict's rule who celebrated it at the eighth hour of the night — 2 a.m. The name Nocturns comes from the individual unit (a nocturn) which made up the service. Each nocturn consisted of three psalms, the paternoster and the prayer known as the Absolutio, followed by three lessons and a benediction. The number of nocturns or sequences recited in each service varied according to the religious significance of the particular day. On Sundays and feast days three Nocturns were recited in succession, together with other prayers and hymns.
Pike in Galentyne - Pike and lampreys were boiled in ale or vinegar, and spices including pepper, ginger and cloves. The ale or vinegar helped to break down the fine bones. The flesh was removed from the coarser bones, then it was pressed back into a fish shape. The pike was either served cold covered with a hot sauce, or hot with a cold sauce such as sauce vert. A hot galentyne sauce was thick and strongly flavoured, more like a relish or condiment than a modern sauce. A typical galentyne consisted of rye breadcrumbs, sweetened white wine, vinegar, oil, onion, cinnamon, pepper and — rather strangely - sandalwood.
Ravel bread - The poorest-quality bread. The best was wheaten bread which generally only the rich could afford. Next came cheat bread, made of second-quality wheat and generally adulterated with other flours. Cheat bread was usually the bread given as alms to the needy. Worst was ravel bread, made from poorest-quality flour mixed with anything people had to hand such as bran, beans, peas, oats, rye, barley or bulrush roots. This was often baked as flat bread in the embers of the fire, or cut into small round discs and fried in lard in a heavy iron pan.
Talbot — As well
as being a Christian name, a talbot was also the name for the 'Norman hound', so called because the dogs were thought to have been brought to England by the Normans. It was larger than the modern greyhound, more like a bloodhound, and it was one of a category of dogs known as 'running hounds' which track their quarry by scent and can pursue a stag or boar from dawn to dusk without giving up or becoming tired.
Toft - Old English from the Norse Topt. A toft was a small area of land, often surrounding a croft or cottage on which the family grew the vegetables, fruit and herbs they needed to feed themselves. Animals would also be kept on the toft, including bees, poultry and at certain times of the year pigs and a milking goat or cow, when they were not out at pasture. In good years, surplus produce was taken to the market to sell or exchanged for other things the family needed.