Alis - By Naomi Rich Page 0,1

And when Master Zachary would have married Kezia to her cousin and she did not wish it, the Elders forbade it.”

Her mother frowned. “That was different. The boy was not ready for marriage.”

As always, her mother had an answer. Though she would usually listen, it was rarely of any use to argue if she had decided a thing. Desperately Alis said, “I do not understand. Why does Minister Galin want me for a wife? I am nothing to him.”

“You will understand when you are older.” Her mother’s face was tense. “It is the will of the Maker.”

“But it is frowned on—when the man is so much older. I have heard you say so. How can it be the Maker’s will?” She knew it was not wise to persist but she was sick with panic.

Hannah’s expression darkened. “Be silent, Alis. You know nothing.” But Alis would not yield. Never before had she defied her mother in this way. Her voice rose. “It is because I know nothing that I will not be silent. How is it that I am to be married against my will and against my understanding? It is my right to know.”

Hannah was tight-lipped but she had herself in check. “You are a daughter of the Book. It is your right to be ruled. It is your right to obey. That is all.”

Desperately Alis turned to her father. “Tell me it is not so. You cannot wish it, even if my mother does.”

He looked at her with his gentle eyes, shaking his head sorrowfully at her.

“Now, Alis, we are all bound to submit to the Maker’s will, as you know. And you must not blame your mother. She does what she must, not what she wishes.”

Alis switched her gaze to her mother’s face. For a moment, she thought she saw there a look of utter despair, but in an instant it was gone and Hannah’s expression was stony again.

“Mother,” she said pleadingly, “you are the Senior Elder. The Minister will surely listen to you, if you tell him that you have changed your mind.”

Hannah said quietly, “But I have not changed my mind. Nor will I. No, Alis! Listen”—for Alis had opened her mouth to protest—“it is hard for you to understand, I know. You are very young, and you think that we are to please ourselves in this life. But it is the Maker we must please—as the Book tells us—and sometimes his ways are dark to us. You must be patient. Now come to me like a good child and tell me that you repent of your willfulness.”

The gentler tone might have tempted Alis, but this was no ordinary matter. She could not say she was sorry and be forgiven, as if she had merely forgotten to feed the hens.

Holding back tears of fright, she said furiously, “But I am not a good child. I am not a child at all if I am to marry the Minister. He is old enough to be your husband.”

Hannah went very still, and in the silence Alis could hear her own heart thudding. For a long moment, nothing happened. At last her mother said harshly, “You are a willful, disobedient girl. Now go to your bed. And pray to the Maker to give you a more humble spirit, lest you be flung into darkness at the last.”

In her tiny room under the eaves, Alis lay sleepless, full of terror. Who could she turn to if her own mother was against her? She could not marry the Minister! How could her mother think it? He was not a boy, to be thought of as a husband in a few years’ time. He was the Minister whom she must fear and obey.

She had been taught to read the Book in times of trouble, but its rules and commandments were no use to her now. Where was she to find help in this most terrible affliction? In her mind’s eye she saw the settlement: a circle of houses round the green, all dominated by the stone prayer house; dirt-track lanes with cottages scattered along them. And beyond, the farms and orchards. The houses would all be dark at this time, shuttered against the winter cold while their occupants slept. She had friends among the girls—Betsy the weaver’s daughter, Susannah whose father was the cobbler, and Elzbet of course, the dearest of them all. But what could Elzbet do?

The marriage was not to be announced yet, to give her time to become accustomed