A Night in the Forest
This is a sample chapter from my work-in-progress: Gédéon.
Madeleine d’Albert
“Get out of sight, Madeleine!” Papa’s voice roused me from my slumber. A cry escaped my lips as my head jerked up and struck a brass knob on Maman’s escritoire. Papa was quick to push back into place the tiny drawer that had opened as a result of my blow. Too much was happening for me to take in.
A terrified neigh. The cart jolted, then stopped.
But the dull thud of horses’ hooves continued. Several horses.
The last glow of the sun seeping between the trees revealed three shadowy shapes approaching on horseback. Or was it four?
A voice barked, “Halt! And no heroics!”
Highway robbers? Or drunken louts looking for fun with a helpless girl?
Maman’s rigid form blocked my view. Gédéon leant over me and whispered, “Run and hide. I’ll come for you.”
I slipped down the rusty steps and crouched among thick holly bushes.
“She won’t get far.” The derisive cackle made me shudder. “We can pick her up later.”
“What is the meaning of this assault?” Papa’s voice was tense but controlled. “By what right do you interfere with…?”
“Hold your tongue! We have orders to arrest you. The magistrate will do the questioning.”
So, it was far worse than I had feared. Someone must have tipped off intendant de Bouville – that weasel – about our flight. These must be his marshals, sent to ambush us.
A metallic tinkle and a dull thud. Gédéon uttered a distressed cry. Maman screamed. Then the clang of chains confirmed my fears. Papa muttered something to Gédéon as he was dragged off.
Would he be beaten? Tortured to confess the names of our accomplices? Or worse? Like poor Philippe Dufour. What were we to do without Papa?
Panic-struck, I got up and fled into the woods. In the dimness, roots did their best to trip me. Something grabbed my sleeve. I swung round, raising my arm. Brambles. I tugged. The briars held. In desperation, I struggled free, but ripped my new cloak. Panic drove me deeper and deeper into the forest until my lungs threatened to burst and my legs insisted I stop. A twig hit my eye and scratched my face.
The storm clouds threatened snow. In the fading light, I blundered into an uprooted tree and clambered under the overhanging roots. They would hide me and offer some slight shelter from the weather. Until Gédéon came. I pulled dead leaves over myself as best I could. Perhaps they would even keep me warm.
Between my shivers and the creaks and rustles that terrified me, I prayed for safety. Once, when a moonbeam managed to peep between the branches, a pair of tiny eyes glinted at mine. Visions of demons loomed in my imagination. What was that verse we had learned? “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Whatever it was scuttled off.
###
Some night-time forest cry woke me with a start. My throat was raw, my arm throbbed from having lain on it, curled up in the pit, and my hair – to say nothing of my coat and dress – was caked with mud. The snow had indeed started, and I was frozen to my bones. At least no one had found me.
There it was again, that baleful groan, cut off by a sharp crack. Was it nearer this time? My breathing froze. Another violent tremble ran through my skinny, sore limbs. I peered between the overhanging, mud-encased roots, but could make out nothing but waving silhouettes against the murky sky. In the distance an owl hooted. Another answered from nearby. Something rustled among the fallen leaves. My muscles locked rigid and it took all my strength not to scream, when exploring whiskers tickled my hand. My sodden feet had lost all feeling and the shivers continued.
The cold and wet were the least of my worries as I crouched in that dank hollow. Were those hirelings following me? Or had some wild creature picked up my scent?
What about Maman and Gédéon? Were they safe? Why hadn’t he come looking for me? Or – I gasped at the thought – perhaps he had! Perhaps he had passed by while I was sleeping, and not found me!
###
Recent events ran through my mind. Several of our friends had disappeared, starting with Pastor de la Conseillère’s family. A grim tension had enveloped our whole community. Our temple was locked and a soldier with a lance posted at the door. Everyone had been ordered to attend Mass instead. Some of our friends had done just that. Now we weren’t able to look each other in the eye.
In the past, I had been to the town Church with my friend Amelie on several occasions. I loved the gold ornaments, statues and pictures of saints. But the prayers the priest recited were beyond my knowledge of Latin.
Our own temple with no decoration but the panels with the Ten Commandments, was far less glamourous; but what could anyone find to object to it? I can’t say I missed it much, because we began to gather together in one of our homes for an improvised culte on Sundays – early in the morning or after dark. Papa usually delivered a sermon as best he could and we all sang the well-known Psalms. On Wednesdays we often met in secret at the Berger’s home for prayer and Bible teaching. Those were my favourite times, because Madame Ducroit accompanied us on the psaltery and we sang in four voices. That always revived my spirits.
###
“Dear God, You know I love You.” I raised my freezing hands, palms upwards. “Please forgive intendant de Bouville and the others for their nastiness.” My head sank into my palms. “And keep Papa safe.” I shuddered. “Oh, and little Rachel!” – What was she going through? – “And please save me from wild beasts… and those ruffians.” A violent shiver ran through me. “I’m so cold. And aching all over. Will no one help me?”
A voice inside me seemed to answer, “I also suffered at the hands of misguided fanatics. Through no fault of my own. I won’t let you go, my dear Madeleine.”
“Oh, I know, Jesus. It’s such a comfort to know You’re here with me.”
###
One morning there had been no bread; the baker had disappeared. No one knew if he’d moved away or been arrested.
A few days later the whole school had been squeezed into Monsieur Laurent’s room. My teacher had gone. – Not Monsieur Flambert! I’d thought at the time. What about his family? – He was so kind, a godly man who treated us all, boys and girls alike, with such respect. I loved his Latin and history lessons but had much more trouble with algebra. How can one add or multiply x’s and y’s when they could be anything? He’d taken time to explain how to simplify those equations. Another teacher might have shouted at me and kept me in after school to do extra work.
People began to whisper to each other in the streets and pass leaflets around. Groups of soldiers in flashy uniforms, carrying swords and muskets, rode through town, accompanied by drums and pipes. Dragoons, they called them. They were often drunk and shouted at us in a funny dialect. Gédéon said they helped themselves to drinks in the inn without paying. And then smashed their gobelets in the road. I hardly dared to walk along the main street any more.
###
Another violent trembling came over me and my chest felt as if a millstone was pressing on it. I needed to cough but struggled to suppress it, for fear of being found. The heavens were still dark and the heavy snow threatened to bury me.
###
In recent weeks Papa had been tense and tired. He was often out late at night and dark rings had formed under his eyes. Sometimes I had overheard heated exchanges between him and Maman – about the family furniture, of all things. That had frightened me, because we were a close, happy family. We always had to ask forgiveness if we ever said something out of place. Of course, I did squabble with Gédéon at times. We complained about whose turn it was to collect the eggs, feed Fidel or help with the cooking. But we loved each other deeply, and Papa’s faith in God was so infectious we always felt safe and confident.
Then tragedy struck. Rachel disappeared. Tears welled up in my eyes. – Can it only have been six weeks ago? Why did I let her go off with Claire-Lise? – I feared she might have been assailed by the dragoons. Our earlier experience last winter had taught us to keep well away from them when they made passes at us. But a ten-year-old alone wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Papa was devastated when he discovered she had been taken off to the Nouvelles Catholiques. To be taught the true faith. How ridiculous – but how horrible for my dear little sister!
Maman broke down. She wept for days and hardly said a word, just sitting by the hearth, absentmindedly embroidering one of Rachel’s dresses. She couldn’t even prepare food for us.
###
“Oh, God, please look after dear Rachel and let her know You are with her, wherever she is.” A deep sigh shook me. “And give Maman new courage to face life.”
###
I wondered if I should try to find my way back to the others. But Gédéon said he wold come for me. What kept him?
And what were we going to do without Papa? Going home wasn’t possible, not since the dragoons had started coming in hordes. Our bridges were really burnt down. We’d even had to leave Fidel behind with the Morillons. Poor thing. But could Maman, Gédéon and I – if they ever find me – continue alone? Had Papa even told them where we were heading and who was supposed to help us on the way?
###
I turned to a sitting position. The sky was getting lighter. It had stopped snowing and here and there the white carpet glistened magically between the trees. But my clothes were a mess and violent shivers shook me, alternating with a feverish sweat. Try as I would, I could no longer suppress my coughing.
The immediate after-effect terrified me. A desperate howl issued from horribly near. Monsieur Flambert had taught us about the louvetiers appointed by the King. Could that be a wolf? In desperation, I stood and searched for a sturdy stick. The first one was so rotten, it fell apart as I lifted it. At last I found a satisfactory hazel shoot. But there was no way I could fight off a hungry wolf.
The howl came again, but was no nearer. If I ran, I’d have no defence. But to approach the beast was out of the question. It had heard my cough so it knew I was there. And no doubt it was my scent that had attracted it in the first place.
“Oh God, save me!”
The brute must have heard my voice, but its reaction astonished me. It began to whimper, almost bleating, as if begging for mercy.
Do wolves bleat?
###
I had heard that sound once before, long ago, when I was still a little girl. We were staying with friends on a farm. Yes, even Noël had come along with Gédéon, but he had no interest in me then. We all – except little Rachel – went to the woods with the Dantin children to collect mushrooms. Madame Dantin warned us to be careful. But we had Fidel with us, so we weren’t afraid. We split up, each with a basket at our elbow, trying to outdo one another. Fidel galloped between us, yapping with pleasure, until all of a sudden his barking changed – to a bleating whine. We dropped our baskets and ran to see what was wrong with the massive hound. He had caught his leg between some rocks, and was trapped and in pain.
###
That pleading whimper came again – from some distance away, behind a thicket. How could Fidel be out there? He was tied up at the Morillons’ house.
“Fi-del,” I stammered. Then, again, more loudly: “Fidel!”
A joyful yapping answered me.
I stomped toward it, sinking to my knees in snow, fighting with nasty saplings and hidden brambles. As I brushed against the heavy branches of a pine, a shower of snow doused me. I didn’t care.
There he was: faithful Fidel. He must have broken free, but his rope had become entangled in the branches of a fallen tree.
“Oh, Fidel, did you come after us?” His tail wagged wildly. “You’re wonderful!”
He jumped up and bowled me over, then licked my tears of joy as we rolled in the snow together. My freezing fingers made it difficult to free him.
“Let’s find Maman and Gédéon.”
He pawed the snow as if he couldn’t wait to be off.
###
In spite of the covering of fresh snow, Fidel had no difficulty following my trail back to where I had left the others. Would they still be there? Had they given up on me – like Rachel – and left?
I heard them from a distance: Maman groaning hysterically and Gédéon frantically trying to calm her down.
“We’re here!” I shouted.
