The Book of the Maidservant Read Online Free PDF Page A

step.
    I’ve seen plenty of ships at Lynn harbor, but never have I been on one before. I didn’t know they would be so crowded and smelly. No matter where you step, you hear the creaking of the wood, as if a thousand groaning men are trapped within the timbers. Despite the crowd, there are more rats than people. I step over two who race to take inventory of our baggage.
    People rush to find comfortable places to ride out the journey over the English Sea. Petrus Tappester elbows between two students in long black gowns. He aims for a coil of rope to sit on, but just as his backside reaches it, a barefoot sailor snatches the rope from under him. He lands hard on the deck and howls.
    “Come along, girl,” Dame Margery says, pulling my arm. She descends into the foul-smelling hold, dragging me after her. I’d rather stay above-boards, smelling the salt air and watching the clouds and the sea, but I have no choice.
    Dame Margery finds a place between two barrels and kneels to pray. This time I need no urging to join her. As we pray, we rock back and forth with the waves that slap loudly against the sides of the ship.
    Back and forth we rock, back and forth. My stomach begins to feel odd, and the bile rises in my throat. Suddenly, I clap my hand over my mouth and run. Up the ladder I go, between pilgrims and sailors and luggage. I reachthe side of the ship just in time to heave up all the crackling the kitchen boy gave me—and whatever else I ever ate in my life.
    How could I have been so greedy? Surely this is my punishment for not fasting.
    I lean over the side, gagging, my eyes watering, but nothing else will come up. The wind cools my hot cheeks, but the smell of pitch makes my stomach feel worse.
    Someone beside me puts a hand on my arm and grips it reassuringly. “Look out to the horizon,” he says. “Keep your eyes where the sea meets the sky and say three Paternosters. You’ll feel better.”
    I try to follow his advice, but my stomach won’t listen—it keeps leaping into my throat.
    “Eyes on the horizon,” he says again.
    After three Paternosters, I start to feel a little better. I take a shaky breath and look sideways at the man. A black gown flutters in the wind—it’s one of the students.
    “John Mouse, clerk, at your service,” he says, making me a mock bow. He’s no older than my sister, and his eyes are brown and merry.
    “Thank you, John Mouse, clerk.” I look quickly back at the horizon lest the sick feeling return. The pewter gray of the sky and the pewter gray of the sea run together in the distance. Waves black in the center and gray on the edges chop the water, each wearing a wimple of white at the crest.
    Behind us, the green hills of England recede.
    The reality of our pilgrimage hits me in a way it hasn’tbefore, taking my breath away. Will I ever see my home again?
    I wish Cook were standing beside me, and Cicilly, too, with my arm around her. I wish we were all back in the kitchen, sitting beside the fire. I wish I were still a child, snug in our cottage beside the stream, with Rose and my father to protect me.
    I look in the opposite direction, to where we are headed, and see nothing but the waves, endless gray and shadow.

m orning finally comes. We have survived the night and the voyage. My mistress kneels to kiss the ground as soon as she crosses the gangplank, forcing a crowd of people to wait behind her until she gets up again. I eye them as they shuffle impatiently. A man calls out, “Hurry up, there!” and I tug on Dame Margery’s sleeve. But she’s speaking to the Lord, so she pays me no mind.
    Then John Mouse steps forward. “Come, my lady, the Lord has seen us safely across,” he says. He talks gently, as if my mistress were a nun—and a lady, too!—and he helps me move her out of the way. I’m about to thank him when another black-robed student speaks to John Mouse in a voice too low for me to hear. I watch as the two of them disappear into the crowd.
    Zierikzee