18 January 1124

　　Rachel`s wedding was a lavish affair. Matilda had grown so accustomed to quiet rural life in the month since her arrival at Holford that it was a surprising assault on the senses. The reception was held in an unused field, with a giant bonfire at the centre surrounded by makeshift furniture and tents serving endless food to the guests. Musicians played pipes and lutes and drums. Barrels of ale, mead and cider flowed freely. Sober guests generated a buzz of conversation which was intermittently punctuated by drunken revellers who boorishly yelled out to one another or sang bawdy drinking songs.

　　Matilda had daydreamt of such a cultural experience during her classes at the Institute. It was just like the party scenes in all her favourite novels and films, only the guest of honour wasn`t turning eleventy one. Earthy smells from the field and warmth from the bonfire proved that the experience was very much real.

　　Despite the worsening weather, the wedding had been brought forward at the bride`s insistence. Rachel hadn`t set foot in the family cottage since the revelations about Mama`s death and she had practically replaced the family with her new in-laws. Poor Ma had been a wreck for weeks, having lost both her mother and daughter in the same day. But Rachel was blind to her mother`s grief and only interacted to demand ever more as the wedding drew closer.

　　Despite the bride`s well-known petulance, the whole region had turned out for the event. There were attendees from villages as far as Stowey. Many shared Matilda`s views of Rachel`s cruelty and Matilda even overheard one woman whisper that the bride and groom deserved one another.

　　Instead, it was the promise of an extravagant event that drew the crowds. Rachel`s new father-in-law was Holford`s brewer and had developed a reputation for producing some of the finest ales in the region. He`d spared no expense for his eldest son`s wedding and rumours had circulated in the preceding weeks that there would be an entire season`s production of ale, five whole cows roasted on spits, musicians travelling all the way from Devon and a bear fight. People`s excitement grew as each rumour turned out to be true - except the bear fight - and Holford was buzzing before the revelry had even begun.

　　The ceremony itself appeared a mere afterthought. Matilda unremarkably hadn`t received an invitation to Holford`s chapel and instead pottered around the cottage which had begun to feel like home. The family had adopted her as their own and insisted that there would be enough people at the reception for her to avoid Rachel`s wrath.

　　Matilda snuck into the field when darkness had fallen and the party was well underway. She found a position on a hill at the edge of the celebration where she could watch the crowd. She`d always preferred people watching to being at the centre of things.

　　Despite the medieval twist on the gathering, she was amazed by the similarities to large celebrations back in her own time. Embarrassing drunken family members and scolding wives were eternal. Revellers overindulged, volunteers slaved over hot coals and children wove amongst the proceedings on their own adventures. Just like home.

　　Watching the interactions between Holford`s various social cliques reminded Matilda that politics was everywhere, even tiny Twelfth Century villages. Field workers and craftsmen, housewives and younglings. The fabric of medieval society. The villagers easily slipped into their places and Matilda enjoyed spotting the few people that belonged to multiple groups, stitching the whole community together.

　　Matilda had met enough of the villagers that her people watching became a medieval-themed game of Where`s Wally. Rachel did the rounds with her new husband to thank their guests, though a peevish expression betrayed her displeasure with the lack of attention given by her groom on their wedding night. Ma and Pa were in deep discussion with Martin Brewer and his wife - Rachel`s new parents-in-law - at the long bridal table. Margery sat at the fringe of a group of young adults talking with the Miller`s son. Old Timothy held court with a collection of elderly gentlemen and Matthew Smith flirted with some out-of-town maiden.

　　Matilda eventually spotted William and Elizabeth walking towards her, each laden with armfuls of food and a big clay jug. They joined Matilda at the party`s outskirts and lay out their takings.

　　"We tried to bring you one of everything," Elizabeth declared proudly. "So you know just how well Holford throws a party!"

　　The siblings insisted that Matilda try each of their favourite treats and they shared the jug of mead between them. Matilda felt as though she might explode, a sensation she hadn`t felt since arriving back in time. Their stomachs also full, Elizabeth and William joined in her people watching and provided a running commentary.

　　"See the guy carrying two jugs?" William asked. "That`s Herbert. Pa said he`s so daft they had to tie his boots for him when fighting for the King. But he can fell a tree with a single swing of his axe. Works for the carpenter now."

　　"And that lady in the blue skirt is Widow Beatrix," Elizabeth pointed out. "Her husband worked a field near ours before he went missing off Kilve beach. William thinks Vikings took him."

　　"No I don`t," William denied unconvincingly before quickly changing the topic. "That younger lady next to Beatrix is Mabel. Ma`s not a fan, says that she..."

　　Matilda had just gulped a mouthful of mead when William finished his vulgar sentence and she snorted, making the amber liquid run through her nostrils. Elizabeth fell into hysterics, having sampled a fair amount of mead herself.

　　"I think I`d better get her back to Ma and Pa," William said, his face red. "She`s well had it."

　　Grasping Elizabeth by the elbow, William led his sister back toward the bonfire. Matilda was left alone to digest her food in peace.

　　But as the pair melted into the crowd a voice sounded behind her.

　　"I thought I might find you here," said a familiar voice.

　　A chill ran down Matilda`s spine as she turned warily towards the robed stranger. The bonfire`s flickering light illuminated his face and she was thrilled to recognise the friendly priest from Nether Stowey.This narrative has been purloined without the author`s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　"Oh! So good to see you." Matilda shakily leapt up and gave him an awkward sideways hug before remembering that he was a priest and retracting herself. "I never caught your name!"

　　"Thomas, my dear," the Priest said with a laugh. "I see you`ve been sampling the Brewer`s creations. He sure knows how to put on a party."

　　Matilda offered the jug but he politely declined with a raised hand.

　　"It`s good to see you," Matilda repeated. "Do you come to Holford often?"

　　"I don`t think I`ve been here for over twenty years. I`m a little too comfortable in my chapel. An old man set in his ways. When I heard of a great gathering in the hills, I absolutely had to try my luck finding the Baron`s mysterious healer."

　　He stared off at the bonfire and the dancing villagers. A comfortable silence fell between them. Matilda sipped from the jug.

　　"The Baron missed you that day," Thomas said. "It`s not often that a miraculous healer denies him the chance to bestow a reward."

　　"I needed to be away from that place," Matilda explained with a hiccough. "From those vile people. I`ve never felt so afraid in my life."

　　The conversation put a rock in Matilda`s stomach.

　　"I can`t begin to imagine. I`d bet it`s hard to believe but they`re not bad people. One is the most loving father and the other dotes over his aging mother. It was that Bishop`s doing. Power can make even the gentlest of people do horrendous deeds."

　　The flames of the bonfire reflected in his eyes.

　　"Not that it forgives their actions," Thomas continued. "Not at all. I just thought you ought to know of their remorse. Neither has missed a single Mass since."

　　The priest was right, they weren`t forgiven, but the rock in her stomach did lighten slightly.

　　"I`m sorry for shoving you, behind that shack," Matilda said with an apologetic smile. "Some way to thank my saviour."

　　"Not to worry child, no harm done. I`m just glad to find you here in one piece." Thomas paused. "You should know that Bishop Godfrey has been looking for you. Three times now I`ve had visits from his messengers asking about that afternoon. Now he`s put out a call to the parishes seeking any word of a red-headed foreigner."

　　"Oh," Matilda said dumbly. "That`s not good."

　　"Not ideal, no. I told them I have no idea where they might find the woman they described. I`m staying with Father Daniel in Holford`s chapel tonight and will have a quiet word with him before I leave. It seems you`ve helped the village more than enough for him to see the value in holding his tongue."

　　"Thanks Thomas. You`re kinder than I deserve."

　　"Kindness begets kindness. Anyway, this old man needs his bed. Do come back to Stowey someday. I`ve no doubt that Baron Walter still wishes to give you your reward. And I could always use an extra hand sweeping my chapel."

　　He began to set off but suddenly stopped in his tracks.

　　"Fool! Trust me to venture so far only to forget the reason why! Old age, I tell you."

　　He reached into the cloth bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a bulky object.

　　 "Might this belong to you?" he asked with a cheeky smile.

　　"My bible!?" Matilda cried as she beamed up at him. "How?" she managed to choke out.

　　"I wasn`t about to leave your belongings lying in the mud. I flicked through the Book myself but couldn`t make the slightest bit of sense out of it. I unfortunately had to surrender your bag and its contents to Godfrey`s men but I somehow convinced them that I hadn`t seen your Book." There was a naughty twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes. "Take care of it. It sounds like Godfrey will move Heaven and Earth to get his hands on it. And be careful referring to it as your bible, some might find that to be poor taste."

　　Matilda couldn`t help herself. She leapt up from the ground again and pulled the old man into a tight embrace.

　　"Thank you Thomas!" she gushed. "You have no idea how much this means."

　　Even in the dim light, Matilda saw a blush on the man`s cheeks.

　　"No worry at all," he blustered. "I know the value of a good book."

　　The Priest headed off back into the crowd, leaving Matilda to pore over her beloved bible in the firelight. The spine was torn, pages were falling out and a crust of mud obscured the embossed cover. But it was the most precious object she`d ever seen. A reminder of the world that was.

　　She sat in a stupor for what felt like hours, soaking in the familiar pages and remembering exactly where she`d been when she wrote her various notes. The rock in her stomach had completely dissolved, replaced with a warmth that emanated throughout her entire body. She felt reborn.

　　Matilda was so absorbed that she barely registered William, Margery and Elizabeth`s return.

　　"I couldn`t get Elizabeth to stay with Ma," William complained. "She kept chasing after me. She`s calmed down a bit now, just hide the jug."

　　"Shut up Willy!" Margery interrupted, pointing at Matilda`s bible. "What`s that?"

　　"You got your Book back!?" William asked excitedly.

　　"You`ve a book!?" Elizabeth cooed.

　　"You know how to read!?" Margery cried.

　　The trio descended upon Matilda and watched completely enthralled as she flipped through the pages. She told them that a kindly priest had returned it to her but omitted the details of how she`d lost it in the first place.

　　"Can you teach me to read?" Margery begged. "I`ve always wanted to learn!"

　　"Definitely," Matilda replied with enthusiasm.

　　They were still poring over the pages when a pair of elderly villagers passed by as they retired for the evening. Intrigued by the suspiciously quiet gathering of young people, they strolled over to see what was happening.

　　"Ho ho! Look at that Stephen, a book!" Timothy Potter exclaimed.

　　"Well I`ll be. You don`t see many of them in little old Holford. Not enough people that know reading."

　　"Always beyond me," Timothy replied. "But no surprise that this one can. Stephen, this is the girl I was telling you about. The one that carried the flour. Who claims to know how to make glass," Timothy added teasingly.

　　Matilda flipped roughly through her bible until she found the page with photos of glass blowing. She thrust it up at the elders.

　　"Would you look at that!?" Stephen said. "She might just be telling the truth Timothy. Amazing."

　　"So did you salvage the family`s flour?" Timothy asked, still inspecting the image of glass.

　　"Most of it," Matilda replied. "The Miller charged another obscene fee but we left someone standing guard while we moved the last of it. I don`t know how Holford lets him get away with it."

　　The two old men looked at each other and burst into laughter.

　　"Let him get away with it? Ha! Dearie, there`s no other choice!"

　　"It`s just the way it`s always been," Stephen added. "We work until we`re blue in the face. The Miller swoops in and takes a hefty portion, just because he can. Then the Baron takes a bite, and sometimes the King too. We`re left with just enough to get by. It`s the circle of life."

　　"But it doesn`t need to be that way!" Matilda complained.

　　"I`m afraid it does," Timothy told her with grave sincerity. "There`s no other way, never has been. Every miller since the dawn of time has known that they have the power. Arnold runs the only mill within miles so nobody is willing to risk losing access."

　　"What about the old mill, the ruined one on the way to Stowey?"

　　"That hasn`t worked since my Pa was a kid. Folks say it`s cursed. Look, no one likes a miller. These kid`s grandparents knew that well enough, no offence. But there`s nothing anyone can do about it."

　　On that cheery note, the old men wished the young ones a good evening and resumed their journey back to Holford. The siblings all returned to the Book, flipping through its pages and marvelling at the lifelike pictures.

　　But Matilda sat in silence, staring into the flames of the dying bonfire. The Miller`s stranglehold over the village was so unfair.

　　If only there was something she could do about it.

　　(C) Jay Pelchen 2023. All rights reserved.