Free Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman Page A

the stream to the river to the sea and across to wondrous foreign lands. If I cannot go to faraway places, I would like to think my water went.

    13 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Kentigern, called Mungo, grandson of a British prince
    It appears the curse has worked. George returned last night from York to say that Aelis has been married to the seven-year-old duke of Warrington. After the ceremony, the duke had an attack of putrid throat and had to go home to his mother to be nursed. His new wife remains at court.
    I am sorry that Aelis was sold at auction to the highest bidder like a horse at a horse fair, but I am gladdened to have my uncle George back.

    14 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Felix of Nola, tortured but not martyred
    I tried to talk to George. He will not hear Aelis's name. He will not speak it. He does not listen, will not play, and his eyes that once flashed mischief and joy now glow dark with pain.
    I thought to write a song about his doomed romance, but he said to save it for his betrothal to Ethelfritha, the very rich widow of a salt merchant from York. I asked him if he loved her. He said he loved her money, her business, and her good heart, and that was enough.
    I think my curse was cursed. Aelis is gone from here, wedded to a baby. George sighs and suffers. And still he is not mine but marries some fat Saxon widow. God's thumbs. I might have done better to fail. My guts are grumbling. I hope it is but a cold in my liver, but I fear it is guilt and remorse.

    15 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Ita, foster mother of the Irish saints
    George has left for York again. My guts still grumble.

    16 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Henry, who became a hermit rather than marry
    It is none so bad sometimes to have a pig for a father. This day it served me well. There were guests at dinner but I had no forewarning of danger so I acted like myself, some good and some bad, like always. I told the story of the time Perkin and I dressed his smelliest goat in his granny's other shift and let it loose in the church while a visiting friar was preaching about the terrors of Hell. The villagers in the church, convinced that the preacher had loosed the Devil on them, stumbled over each other trying to escape the fiend. Perkin's granny recognized her shift and started chasing the goat to get it back, swinging at him with a candlestick. The frightened goat loosed its bowels in the middle of the church, bawled frantically, and leapt into Perkin's lap. It was wondrous sport, but the story did not seem to amuse my listeners at dinner. We finished eating in quiet.
    Later I discovered that one of the guests was another suitor, who was pleased with me and even my story but so offended by my father's burping and farting and scratching his chest with his knife that any hopes for a marriage died. I shall never tell my father that I am grateful to him.

    17 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Antony of Egypt, gardener and mat maker
    A freeze. My ink froze and I had to thaw it over the fire so I could write. But now I have nothing to say.

    18 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Ulfrid, martyred for breaking up a statue of Thor with his axe
    In the heart of winter when we eat for weeks on end porridge and beans, eggs and wrinkled apples, salted meat and dried herring, I think I will never again see peaches and plums, fresh fish and parsley and leeks. I have painted into the mural on my chamber wall a tree bursting with fresh fruit, dripping its juice straight into the waiting mouth of a golden warrior mounted on a black stallion, with my face (the warrior, not the horse).

    19 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saints Marius, Martha, Audifax, and Abachum, a family of Persians martyred while on pilgrimage to Rome
    Much activity about the manor as lambing started at the same time as a snowstorm. The sheep have all been driven to the pen in our yard, and the pregnant ewes will be put in our barn. Many are dropping their lambs on