Margaret the Queen (41 page)

"My dears, my very dear friends!" she exclaimed. "It has been so long. I declare, I thought that I would have myself to travel to your Borderland for a sight of you. Magda — you look so well. Comely. He must be treating you passing well, I think! And you, Maldred, are more handsome each time I see you — which is insufficiently often." "

They made due acknowledgement of this flattering welcome, Maldred at least embarrassingly aware of the interested and amused glances of the bevy of the Queen's ladies, another new feature — all now standing because she was on her feet — all so attractively-dressed and turned-out, all clutching their colourful sewnwork, Romish church-vestments most evidently. Margaret herself was superbly gowned, the fine embroidered silken fabric seeded with Tay pearls, and looking her most beautiful — even though neither of her visitors mentioned the fact that evidently she was pregnant once more.

Perhaps she perceived their quick glances, for she smiled.
"My
husband is equally attentive, Magda, you will see! In all matters!" She raised one shoulder in an incipient shrug. "God blesses me."

"Yes. How are the princes, Highness?" Magda asked.

"Edward thrives, and is unruly. His father greatly spoils him. Edmund remains less than strong. I pray daily that he will gain in vigour. And — your Marsala?"

"Sufficiently well for me to be jealous of her! She has her father as plaything! I come second."

"She is not to be believed," Maldred asserted. "Highness — you have made great changes. Since last we were here. It is, to be sure, some months. All this . . ." He gestured around.

"You like it? You, who prefer things to be left as they are!"

"Some things. It is very fine. All that we have seen, all much to be admired."

"I think that I hear doubt behind your words, my friend? You reserve your approval of what I do?"

"No. Leastways, not altogether. It is only that it all seems . . . foreign. Not in our own Scots style and custom."

"And you conceive that to be wrong, Maldred?"

"If overmuch, it could be, Highness, I think."

"But — I do all only for Scotland's betterment. Nothing to the realm's or the people's hurt. Surely you know that?"

"I know that is what you intend, yes. But. . ."

"Do not heed him," Magda said. "He would have us all back in the days of barbarism. He will have no advancement."

"Advancement I welcome. But not all English,
Saxon,
advancement. . ."

The palace-steward — now being called chamberlain — appeared in the doorway behind them, and thumped on the floor with his staff-of-office. "Silence for the King's Highness!" he cried.

Malcolm stalked in and all bowed low. He was dressed in rich clothing such as Maldred had never before seen him to wear, cloth-of-gold, velvet and a jewelled belt. He did not really suit it, being a man more apt for armour and the harness of war; indeed he gave the impression of wearing it with some unease.

"Ha! I heard that you were here," he jerked, without preamble. "Should not you have come seeking me, instead of I you?"

"I was told that you were not in the palace, Highness," Maldred said. "We greet you well."

"Aye, no doubt. You have news for me?"

"Some, yes."

"Of
moment?"

"That is for Your Highness to judge. I but carry it."

"Be not so prickly, man! Come, then. Where we shall be free of the clatter of women's tongues." He cleared his throat. "If Her Highness will excuse us?" Malcolm mac Duncan had a long way to go before he was all that his wife would make of him.

The two men went into a small ante-room, dark and unembellished.

"What are Cospatrick's tidings for me, then?" Malcolm demanded at once.

"He has learned much, this time. But how much will be new to you I do not know. There is great upheaval in England. William is still in France. There has been revolt in the South. And along the Welsh marches. Led by William's own people — Normans. But it has failed. Been betrayed to Odo. It was mainly against him, rather than William himself, it is said."

"Roger fitz Osbern was it? And Ralph Guader of Norfolk? As your last messenger foretold?"

"Yes. The Earls of Hereford and Norfolk. And sundry others. But the Earl Waldeve has fallen also
..."

"Waldeve? Of Northumbria? Waldeve fallen? William's man. How, man — how?"

"It seems that he threw in his lot with these others. Why, I know not. He had come back from France — Cospatrick learned of that months ago. It may have been only against Odo that he turned, not really William. But he is ruined now. And a new situation in Northumbria and Cumbria and Deira."

"You say all has failed? How was that? Was there battle?"

"No real battle. All had been planned for long. Hereford was to rouse the marches and the West. The Welsh to rise, as usual. He was also to bring over a large force of his Bretons. No — that was Ralph Guader.
He
is the Breton. He, Ralph, was to raise Norfolk and East Anglia, and the fenmen again. Also, a Danish fleet to come, under the new Danish king's brother Knud. Great plans. All was to be concerted at a notable occasion, a marriage celebration, to hide the plotters assembling, so that they might gather from all over the land without arousing Odo's suspicion.

It was held at Norfolk's castle of Thetford. Norfolk was marrying Hereford's sister Emma. There were hundreds there, many of them Norman barons and knights. Waldeve came, and took part. No doubt he was to raise the North. But — he was the weak link, the cause of the disaster. For his wife, the Countess Judith, betrayed all to Odo, her uncle. She was not at the wedding, but Waldeve must have told her..."

"The fool! To let a woman lead him by the nose!"

Maldred swallowed. "Yes, Highness. So all was lost before it ever started. Odo descended upon Norfolk while he was still only mustering, and waiting for the Danes to arrive. At Cambridge. He shattered the rebels. Norfolk fled overseas. Hereford has fled into Wales. And Waldeve — Waldeve cravenly yielded himself up to Odo, confessing all, and claiming that he was pressed only unwillingly into it. Odo has sent him to Normandy, to plead for mercy with William himself. The Danes came late, into the Humber again. They sallied as far as York only, sacked the minster and much else, then sailed back to Denmark."

"God's Grace!" the King
exclaimed. "The folly of it! To
trust that Waldeve — and he to trust his wife! William's kin. So the Bastard survives another attempt — the fiend take him! But — what of Northumbria?"

"That is the heart of Cospatrick's tidings. Odo has appointed Bishop Walchere to rule the North. He was doing so before, in Waldeve's name. Now he has all the powers of a great earl. In King William's name. It is even better than Cospatrick hoped for."

"Aye. And Cumbria?"

"The situation in Cumbria is the more improved. Walchere has more than he can handle, without Cumbria. So, although Odo expects that he governs there also, the Bishop will not attempt to do so. He has an understanding with Cospatrick. He will not interfere in Cumbria. And Cospatrick will not interfere in Northumbria — meantime. So, with Hereford and the Norman West, like Wales, lying low, Madach has little to fear in Cumbria. The Orkney earls will not make any move, out of Galloway, in such situation. Thus your realm is secure, Highness, down to Lancaster and the Ribble."

"Aye. For the moment."

Malcolm had, the previous year, doubtfully agreed to

Cospatrick's urgings, through Maldred. He had created his cousin's eldest though illegitimate son, Dolfin, Earl of Cumbria; and his third son Cospatrick, Earl of Dunbar and March. The former was a purely nominal title, and the boy stayed at home at Ersildoune. But the King had sent Madach mac Melmore, Maldred's brother, to be governor of Cumbria and the West March of the Border, at Caer-Luel; whilst Maldred himself remained in practical control of the East March. With, of course, Cospatrick senior secretly manipulating all. All were cousins of the King.

"This mummery of Cospatrick's has served none so ill," Malcolm went on — and it was not often that man admitted to satisfaction, save with his second wife. "Fool's play as it seemed. He is a cunning fox. But I would never trust him far."

"He is serving your cause well, in this at least. And Madach says that he could not govern Cumbria without him. He comes and goes at will."

"Many must now know that he is alive?"

"Some few, no doubt. But only, I think, those in whose interest it is to keep the secret. He will see to that."

"As to Cumbria, when William returns, or the man Odo recovers himself after this failed revolt, he will not be content to leave Cumbria in this Walchere's feeble grip."

"Perhaps not, Highness. But — Cospatrick has other tidings for you. Which could affect this. Lanfranc the Archbishop is at odds with the new Archbishop of York, Thomas — indeed, he refuses to consecrate him as such. Until Thomas accepts subservience to Canterbury — which he does not do. They put the issue to the Pope, in Rome. And he has sent a Cardinal named Hubert to England, to consider and decide on the matter, in council. This Cardinal has found and proclaimed that York is indeed subject to Canterbury, and Lanfranc undoubtedly Primate of England. But — it does not stop there. It is declared that the archdiocese of York is only to control its own see, that of Durham, and such bishoprics as shall or will exist in
Scotland?'

"Christ God! Scotland?"

"Yes. Cospatrick urges that you should take heed of this. It is the overlordship claim again. In religion, as in all else. I would counsel Your Highness to remember this when, when these new Romish churches and practices are established here!"

The King eyed him levelly for a moment, but said nothing.

"As to the quarrel between Lanfranc and this Thomas," Maldred went on, "there could be advantages in it, also, Cospatrick says. For Thomas was appointed at
Odo's
bidding. They are friends. So now Odo quarrels with Lanfranc. He, Lanfranc, has complained indeed to William in France that Odo is encroaching on his Canterbury lands. So, with bad blood between William's friend the Primate and William's half-brother the viceroy, there is likely to be little adventuring in the English North for some time."

"The saints be praised that these Normans must so quarrel amongst themselves! And so save more honest men greater trouble. This will please Edgar, I swear."

"Edgar. . . ?EdgarAtheling?Why?"

"Do you not know, man? Edgar is here again — a plague on him! He came on St. Grimbald's Day, a week back. I thank God he had not brought his mother and sister with him! The Queen loads him with gifts . . ."

"Why? Why has he come back? When it is against your agreement with William."

"He comes as from Philip of France. He has been at his Court these many months. Philip has offered him the countship of Montreuil-sur-Mer, in the Pas de Calais. On condition that he uses it to assail William's eastern flank in Normandy. For this he seeks my aid — as does Philip. In men and treasure. He says the more attacks on William in France, the less will he be seen in England! To my advantage. Philip sees France and Scotland uniting to contain him. Edgar is but a pawn in this game."

"This is something Cospatrick has
not
heard, I think! And — are you going to give Prince Edgar this aid?"

"In money and gear and arms, yes. Margaret is as good as a mint for moneys, these days! All she touches seems to turn to gold. But — no men. Not one man from Scotland will I entrust to Edgar Atheling! Gold I care little for — but men are different. All my men I can use here! Edgar may go hire him his own Saxon men. If he can."

A knock at the door revealed Margaret. "I am going to take Magda to see how the new church grows," she announced. "Will Maldred come on after, when you have finished your talking? Perhaps yourself, Malcolm?"

"Take him, if you will. Now. We have spoken sufficient, meantime. Myself, I pray to be excused, my love. I have seen the church times uncounted. I cannot think that it will look so different for having a few more stones added."

"As you will, my lord."

Attended by her personal almoner, without whom apparently she seldom moved abroad, to distribute bounty and relief to the needy and afflicted as she went, Margaret led her visitors through the township surrounding the palace and up the hill to the abbey precincts — and as they went folk came to bow and smile and wave, from cottage doorways, lane-ends and garden plots, with children actually running up to greet and even touch the Queen, as a sure friend. Every now and again she paused or stepped aside to speak with the aged or the crippled; and once she disappeared within a dark, low-doored hovel, and, when she emerged, sent her almoner in after her. Clearly she was greatly beloved by the common people — as well she might be. And as clearly her affection and sympathy for them was no mere assumption nor act of charity, but came from the heart. This was something new in queens.