Daughter of York (78 page)

Margaret looked at Mary’s radiant face now and knew she would keep Philip’s secret. Even though he was an impetuous youth and surprisingly inept in matters politic, Maximilian made Mary happy, and Margaret would never do anything to jeopardize that. She had a good rapport with the young prince, although he exasperated her frequently. Thank heaven he had good counsel from the lords Ravenstein and Gruuthuse, although she had caught them pursing their lips at a few of his puerile suggestions. She was still convinced that she had made the right choice for Mary.

A
ND IT SEEMED
Margaret was right, because by August of 1479, Maximilian’s army had forced Louis into battle at Guinegatte in Artois and succeeded in driving the French armies back across the Somme.

The annual procession of the Holy Blood in Bruges two days later was a particularly significant occasion. The city watched as Mary and Margaret took their places to witness it and give thanks for the victory. Hundreds of clergymen, nuns and monks wove their way behind the bishop, who carried a small rock-crystal vial between his hands for all to see. It contained a fragment of bloodstained cloth said to have been used by Joseph of Arimathea to wipe Christ’s body. Crusaders had brought it back to Bruges. Margaret was very moved, and when it was her turn to kneel and kiss the relic inside the small but magnificent basilica, her knees trembled and she became light-headed.

“Laudate Dominum, omnes gentes,”
she whispered in her praise of God, her eye following the lofty pillars that supported the painted ceiling of the Romanesque church. It did not have the immensity of other cathedrals she had prayed in, but she thought it was the most beautiful because of the colors. She truly felt blessed in that place of worship, and she prayed fervently upon her little cushion.

“I have much to praise you for, dear Lord, but I must ask that you show your love and favor to Mary and Maximilian, little Philip and the new child that Mary carries within her. I pray they govern the good people of Burgundy with justice and mercy.” Not like Charles, she found herself adding. “I also ask that you bless my own little Jehan and that one day you will show me why I was sent to rescue him from a cruel life. I pray for humility and strength to do my part in the governance of this duchy. And as always, I pray for forgiveness and compassion for my illicit love for Anthony. May you bless and keep him safe always. In our savior Jesu Christ’s name, amen.”

She closed her eyes and thought she heard Anthony’s voice murmur, “I thank you, Marguerite.” She opened them quickly, but saw only the bishop raising his hand in a blessing over her head.

She signed herself, rose and genuflected in front of the massive gold crucifix and slowly made her way down the church to her escort waiting outside. The solemn part of the occasion over, the crowd in the Burg began to cheer the two duchesses as they walked down the covered Gothic staircase and onto the cobblestones below. Margaret wore black and gold. Mary was in a splendid overdress of Burgundian purple and black, with an underdress of crimson. Her train was carried by Anne of Ravenstein, and her three-foot-high hennin sparkled with jewels under the gauze. Despite her daintiness, she was the epitome of a great ruler.

“Imagine, Margaret,” Mary said, as she waved to her subjects, whose voices had found their exuberance after years of gloom under Charles, “in a week, I will have been married two years. And in that short time, we have come from near disaster to this triumph. And much of it I owe to you, my dear stepmother.”

“Pah!” Margaret exclaimed, waving with her. “’Tis you who should take the credit, my dove. You and Maximilian have given Burgundy hope. Just listen!”

T
HE MOOD WAS
jubilant at the feast following the procession. Servants set platters of peacock, swan and heron before the guests, and the musicians piped merrily on hautboys and recorders.

Fortunata was eager to show off a new trick she had been practicing in secret, and Mary gave her permission to enact it during one of the
entremets. First she began turning cartwheels around the room and then she clapped her hands and called for Cappi. The little jackanapes ran to her, and Margaret watched with half an eye as he imitated Fortunata’s acrobatics until, taking a flying leap, he landed on his owner’s head. Margaret had to smile at the picture the two made.

“Did you like our trick,
madonna
?” the dwarf asked, encouraged by the smile. She and Cappi performed some other feats, and the guests applauded with enthusiasm. “I am good,
non
?” she asked everyone, before running behind Margaret’s chair and reappearing carrying a man’s high hat. She placed it on her head and then quickly removed it, taking bows left and right as a magician might.

“Will you pay to see some more?” she asked the diners cheekily. “Only a little money, plis.” And she walked around the room with the upturned hat begging for a coin or two. Margaret frowned. What was the scamp up to? she wondered. She did not ever ask to be paid for her tricks—she did not need to, she won enough from the cup game to spoil herself with new ribbons for Cappi or a comb for her hair. A few of the courtiers indulged her by dropping a coin into the hat. Then, in front of Margaret again, she took the pennies from the hat one by one, and the next time she put her hand in the hat, she brought out a wriggling baby rabbit. A gasp of astonishment went up, and Margaret applauded loudly.

“
Pochina
, you are a marvel! Where did you learn to do that?” she cried.

She opened the embroidered bag on her belt and brought out a florin. Fortunata’s eyes lit up with excitement. She was about to step up and claim her prize when Cappi decided he did not care for his mistress holding another animal, and springing from nowhere, he plucked the poor rabbit from Fortunata’s fingers and proceeded to kill it in front of the horrified audience. Some of the women swooned as blood splattered on the tiled floor and rushes. Fortunata blanched and tried to get hold of Cappi’s leash. He lashed out and bit her hand, his razor-sharp teeth sinking deep into her flesh, and she screamed. Two guards rushed over, halberds at the ready, but when they saw what was happening they began to laugh.

“’Tis not amusing, gentlemen,” Mary said, rising from her chair and glaring at them. “Take the dead rabbit away, if you please!” The men bowed, cowed by the young duchess’s stern command, and one picked up
the little carcass from the floor by one foot, holding it out in front of him as though it would come back from the dead and attack him, earning jeers from the men in the room.

Margaret asked Henriette and Beatrice to tend to Fortunata’s bleeding hand, and Mary sent for the physician. Begging the guests to continue their enjoyment of the feast, Margaret followed her attendants into the antechamber. Doctor Roelandts came in panting, a few minutes later, carrying his bag of potions, tinctures and bandages. Margaret sat the dwarf down and stroked her glistening forehead. The little woman was obviously shocked and in pain. Margaret fed her some wine while the doctor examined the wound. He spread salve on it and bandaged up the hand, none too gently, Margaret noted. He still remembers her transgression, she thought sadly. He was a good doctor, otherwise she might have let him go. He always made her think of Marie de Charny, and she wondered how the spiteful woman had taken Charles’s command that she not return to Margaret’s household. Margaret had discovered from Henriette that Marie had been physically cruel to Fortunata on several occasions, which had answered some of the questions about Fortunata’s puzzling behavior in those days. Marie deserved to be banished, she had decided.

Now she looked fondly on her little servant, who was nursing her hurt hand and scolding Cappi. Her face was twisted in such an ugly frown that she would have frightened off a hardened villain, much less a trembling monkey. I am too indulgent with her, Margaret concluded. That monkey is dangerous and should go, but ’twould break Fortunata’s heart. Besides, she had only been trying to cheer me up. Nay, I cannot punish her.

T
HE SUN WAS
low in the sky and a flock of starlings chattered and screamed at one another in the trees on the other side of the palace wall. Margaret and Jeanne were walking arm in arm around the island in the lake, Fortunata close behind. The six-sided island was only there as ornamentation, the small geometrical beds offering heartsease and gillyflowers in the summer among low manicured hedges, but in late September, the garden was cleared. The island’s isolation always gave Margaret a sense of freedom from the confines of the palace, and she and Jeanne enjoyed an intimacy there unknown in the busy, crowded court inside. From one side
they could look over the fish-filled lake to the little zoo, where lions paced in a cage along the water.

Margaret pulled her mantle around her shoulders against the brisk late-afternoon breeze and lifted her soft wool skirt over a puddle.

“Jeanne, do you think Mary is happy with Maximilian? I could not bear to think she was forced into …”

“Certes, she is happy, your grace. Think no more on it,” Jeanne replied, hugging herself against the chill. “Ever since she set eyes on the man, she talks of no one else.”

“I am satisfied then. Whatever happened to Sir Galahad?” Margaret asked, remembering the young Jehan.

“He went with his father to join the army at Neuss and that was that, I believe. Mary pined for a time, but once Maximilian came, she had eyes for no one else.”

A little cry interrupted their conversation. Margaret turned to the sound and was dismayed to see Fortunata clutching at her neck.

“What is it,
pochina
? There are midges out, I fear. Did you get bitten?” she asked, pointing to the tiny insects that hovered over the lake in small swarms. “Let me see.”

Fortunata could not answer her. Her cheek and jaw were in spasm and she could not open her mouth. She allowed Margaret to feel the area, but her eyes told the story of pain under the fingers.

“Jeanne, would you alert the boatman that we should return immediately,” Margaret said. “We should get Doctor Roelandts to look at Fortunata.”

When she heard the physician’s name, Fortunata scowled and managed to shake her head. Margaret tut-tutted and shooed her along the path to the steps, where Jeanne was waiting in the stern of the little boat. The man handed both women to the middle seat and rowed the short way to a staircase and door into the palace. Mouthwatering aromas were coming from the kitchens behind the great hall as the three women hurried to the chambers beyond the chapel and oratory. Margaret made Fortunata sit in her big chair and plumped up the cushions around her, feeling her forehead and holding her hand. Fortunata winced as Margaret’s thumb put pressure on the place where the monkey’s bite had pierced the skin two months before. Margaret felt a spasm under her fingers and looked
closely at the wound, which had healed tolerably well. Beatrice came into the room, her well-lined face now creased in a frown. The door banged behind her, and Fortunata jumped.

“My head hurts very much,
madonna,
” Fortunata said irritably. She reached her good hand up to rub her neck and shoulders. “And I am so stiff.”

“Never fear,
pochina,
the doctor will be here anon.” Margaret was at a loss as to how to help her little friend, but she kept holding her hand and reassuring her.

A few minutes later, Doctor Roelandts bustled in and rolled his eyes when he saw the dwarf thus pampered. Servants did not belong in the duchess’s chair, he grumbled to himself, and especially not this ugly creature.

“What seems to be the trouble, your grace? It looks to me like an ill humor,” he said. “Are you not able to find the cause yourself, Fortunata? I thought you were all-knowing in sickness and medicine,” he added, smirking.

“Enough of your barbed tongue, doctor,” Margaret snapped. “Pray examine the patient. She seems to have a stiffness in her neck and face, and I felt her hand go rigid a few minutes ago.”

Roelandts’ curiosity got the better of him and he put his hand out to feel Fortunata’s jaw. She writhed away in pain. The doctor frowned, which did not escape Margaret’s notice. Then he picked up Fortunata’s hand and scrutinized the bite wound.

“Has it been two months since the monkey bit you, Fortunata?” he asked more gently. “And did you keep the bandage on, as I instructed?”

Fortunata pouted. “I had to clean Cappi after he killed the rabbit. He was very afraid and so he … you know … dirtied himself,” she explained. “I took the wet bandage off.”

“What is it, doctor? The wound seems to have healed, in truth. ’Tis her neck and cheek that pains her.”

He motioned Margaret to the other side of the room. “The two are related, your grace. ’Tis an ailment that I have only heard of before now. And I know not how to treat it, madame.” Then he lowered his eyes and his voice. “’Tis said it is painful, and I fear ’twill get worse.”

“And then what happens?” Margaret barked. “Will she get over it? Answer me plainly, sir!”

Roelandts dared not lie. He shook his head. “I am told ’tis incurable, duchess.”

Margaret’s hand flew to her mouth to stop her cry of anguish. Beatrice and Jeanne were tending to the patient, who had not moved since she was put in the chair. Cappi was curled up in her lap and made odd little chirping noises. Margaret held herself erect and began to question the doctor more thoroughly. She was afraid his resentment of Fortunata might have caused him to paint a blacker picture than was necessary. He answered her as best he could, but it was clear he did not know how to proceed.

Margaret finally brought herself to ask, “Is she going to die? Tell me the truth.”

Roelandts nodded slowly, rubbing his big nose. “In those cases I have heard about, they did.”

“Pah!” she spat at him in her rising fear. “’Twas because those other cases did not have the benefit of the best doctor in Burgundy with all the best medicines at his disposal. A tight neck and jaw cannot be that serious. Use your skill to cure Fortunata, and perhaps there will be a fine reward for you if you do.” She saw the doctor’s eyes light up, so she was quick to add, “But if she dies, you will be dismissed. Do you understand?”