The Bastard King (23 page)

‘With all my heart. Fear not, Mother. They shall have high places in the land.'

‘I knew you would do this for me and remember always that I bore them even as I did you.'

‘I will remember, Mother.'

‘Shed no tears for me, William. I bless you. May you be as happy in your family as I have been in mine. I am sorry that you are a bastard. But it could be nothing else.'

‘Set aside your sorrow. Know that I have come to be proud of the name. You know I use it on all my documents.'

‘William the Bastard! You have made it a title of honour. Good-bye, my dearest. My love for you has been great.'

‘I know it,' he answered.

She was buried with all honours and her body was laid in the abbey at Grestain which she had founded.

William kept his promise. Odo became the Bishop of Bayeux and Robert was Count of Mortain. His sister Adeliz was married to a Count.

The years were passing.

Another boy was born to them. This was William, after his father. The family was growing; it was beginning to be realized that William the Bastard, with Matilda of Flanders beside him, was one of the most powerful men of Europe.

IT WAS A
year he would never forget. He was no longer young, being thirty-eight years of age. It had been a hard life mostly spent in fighting. He often said it was small wonder he was a great soldier since he had spent most of his life following that profession and there had been little time for anything else.

Often he talked to Matilda of how he would like to see the Duchy develop. There were so many better ways of living than fighting. He wanted to improve the farming lands; he wanted to set up glassworks; he admired fine works of gold or silver and wished to help the creators of these, but his greatest enthusiasm was for architecture.

‘Do you know, Matilda,' he often said, ‘when I have to burn some grand castle I feel a pang of sorrow. I would like to see fine castles, cathedrals, dwellings, all over the land.'

‘And all in your possession, my lord,' Matilda reminded him.

‘'Tis so. My mother used to say that once I had acquired something I never wished to let it go.'

‘And why should you, if it were hard-won?'

‘Matilda, has it ever struck you how alike we think, we two?'

‘Why should we not think alike? We are working towards the same goal.'

‘'Twas a happy day for me when I gave vent to my ill-humour and rolled you in the mud.'

‘And showed me a strong man. None but a strong man would have done for me.'

He, who was never demonstrative with any but her, took her hand and kissed it.

‘You have given me so much happiness in my home and my family.'

He liked to talk about their sons. Richard was his favourite, Robert hers.

There was, however, a little discord between them over Robert. Her first-born, her darling. Was he beginning to mean more to her than William himself? Richard of course was a good boy. He learned his lessons and was a credit to his tutors; he rode well; he was of a sweet and docile temper; he was handsome too, more like his father in looks than either Robert or little William.

The girls did not count in the same way as the boys. William had fiercely wanted boys and she had wanted them because she must show William that never could he be disappointed in her. Cecilia, Adelisa, Constance and Adela – four charming girls who stood in great awe of their father and of whom he was very fond, although he was not the man to show this. Cecilia was devout and Adelisa loved stories of romance; the others were too young as yet to show much preference for anything.

Of the boys they talked constantly.

Richard was the safest topic, for William could not find fault with him; but Robert who was now twelve years old was already showing signs of rebellion. He had all the spirit of his parents but he was more reckless than William had ever been
and was constantly boasting of what he would inherit, and that he was going to be Duke of Normandy – which was rather irritating to his father.

‘Remember, boy,' William reminded him. ‘I am not yet in the tomb.'

Robert was good looking with his light chestnut-coloured hair and blue eyes, but he was short of leg, a fact which did not please William. He admired tall men like himself and Robert's legs were so short in comparison with the rest of his body that William knew he would never have the look of a Viking. He was a Fleming, not a Norman.

‘And what is wrong with that?' demanded Matilda.

‘It is becoming in a woman to be small and dainty,' said William. ‘I would have liked him to have the height I expect of my son. Nay, Matilda, you have given me a Robin Curthose for a first-born.'

Matilda was not pleased. Height was not everything she would have him know; and the Flemings were none the worse if they were on average shorter than the Normans.

They might banter but resentment was growing in her towards William. Their first big disagreement was over their first-born.

As for Robert he was inclined to be saucy. ‘Never fear my father's anger, Mother,' he said. ‘He cannot change me for Richard though I fancy he would like to. I am the first-born.'

‘He could dispossess you,' she reminded him. ‘We shall have to take care of that.'

Already, though he was but twelve years old, she was siding with him.

Robert strutted in the children's apartments. He was good-tempered when not crossed and indulgent to his sisters. They were often visited by the Saxons, Wulfnoth and Haakon, who had come to Normandy as hostages when Godwin had gone back.

William had been discussing these two boys with Matilda.

‘I have often thought,' he said, ‘that on the death of Godwin there is no real purpose in our holding them. At least I can see a purpose but Harold I should have thought would have asked for their return by now.'

‘Doubtless that man is so full of his own affairs that he has no time to think of a young brother and a cousin. How much longer can Edward live?'

‘Not long surely. And then . . .'

They smiled at each other.

‘King of England,' she said.

‘And Queen.'

‘While yet Duke of Normandy,' she added.

‘I have a fancy for the place. I would fortify it. I would put it in order. Edward has been too weak.'

‘I think of Harold. Now he will be making himself liked and winning the people to his side.'

‘I have spent most of my life fighting for what I must hold. Do you think I shall hesitate to go on doing so?'

‘I have the utmost faith in your power to take all that you want.'

‘Did I not get you?'

‘I trust England will fall as willingly into your hands as your wife did.'

They had their tender moments but he did suspect her of hiding Robert's misdemeanours from him and she thought him over-harsh with her favourite.

In their bedchamber little Adelisa was telling the younger ones the story of how Ragnar slew the dragon.

Grandmother Arlette had told it to her as
her
grandmother had told her. ‘That,' had said Grandmother Arlette, ‘is how the great stories of our heritage are handed down to us.'

The little girls listened attentively; William, whom they called Rufus, partly to distinguish him from their father and partly because he had a thatch of wiry red hair and very rosy cheeks, said he would rather have been the dragon than Ragnar. ‘I wish I could breathe fire. I'd breathe it all over you and burn you up.'

Adelisa was shocked. ‘But, Rufus, the dragon was bad. Ragnar was good and it was good really slaying evil.'

‘I don't care,' declared Rufus. ‘I'm a dragon. I'm breathing fire. You're all burnt up.' Adelisa went on with the story. They were used to Rufus so they ignored him.

‘He was beautiful,' she said. ‘He had long golden hair and rings on his fingers and bracelets on his arms. He was strong and brave.'

‘Our father is strong and brave but he doesn't have rings and bracelets.'

They all laughed at the idea of their father in rings and bracelets.

‘He has a gold crown for his head,' said Adelisa. ‘I've seen it.'

‘I've seen it,' boasted Rufus. ‘I've worn it.'

‘You must not tell lies,' said Adelisa. ‘You will go to hell if you do.'

Rufus considered going to hell and decided he would like the adventure.

He went on: ‘And his mantle. I've worn them. I've sat on a throne and . . .'

‘Rufus is lying again,' said Adelisa sadly.

Rufus pulled her hair, and the little girls looked frightened.

‘I'll tie you up by your plaits and leave you hanging,' said Rufus. ‘Yes, I will. Right till you die.'

‘You would be punished,' said little Constance.

‘I'll hang you up too.'

‘Don't let him, Adelisa. Don't let him,' screamed Constance.

Rufus crept stealthily towards her and she screamed with terror. Rufus liked to frighten his sisters; he had a violent temper too and would lie on the floor and kick if displeased. Only the thought of his father's displeasure and stern punishment was able to deter him.

Fortunately Richard heard the screams of his sisters and came in.

Richard was tall, with his mother's good looks and his father's physique, but the temperament of neither. He was gentle and kind and the little girls adored him.

Constance ran to him and flung herself against him.

‘Now, Rufus,' said Richard, ‘what is this?'

‘Silly girls,' said Rufus. ‘Only a game.'

‘You shouldn't frighten them.'

‘They shouldn't be frightened.'

‘It is your duty to look after them. Did you not know that, Rufus?'

‘I won't,' declared Rufus.

‘Then you will never be a pupil in chivalry.'

‘I don't want to.'

‘Then you will never win your golden spurs.'

‘Oh yes I will. I'll win thousands and thousands . . .'

‘He won't, will he?' said Adelisa clinging to her brother's hand and looking up at him adoringly. Richard was beautiful and she loved beautiful people. Richard was like a knight from the old romantic stories which Grandmother Arlette used to tell. Beautiful, kind and coming to the rescue of ladies in distress. How she wished that Grandmother Arlette had not died; she had loved her dearly, more so than she did her other grandmother who was so important, being the daughter of a King. Daughters of tanners it seemed were more beautiful and more kind and loving. Richard reminded her in a way of Grandmother Arlette. Yes, although he was a man and tall he had a look of her.

‘I fear he won't unless he mends his ways,' said Richard. Then he turned his beautiful smile on Rufus. ‘But I think he will. For he is a very clever little boy, our Rufus, and he will do what is best for himself.'

A slow smile spread across the rosy face of Rufus. He liked to hear that description of himself and of course he knew that he must win his spurs and that a knight did not torment little girls even though they were his sisters.

As he had done so many times before, Richard was restoring order in the nursery. He was about to continue with the lesson when the sounds of arrival below could be distinctly heard. The children all ran to the window and clustered round it.

A man had ridden into the courtyard; his horse was steaming and had clearly ridden far.

The rider leaped from the saddle and, as a groom took his horse, he said in a loud and commanding voice: ‘Take me to the Duke.'

William and Matilda bent over the chessboard. It was a game William enjoyed in his rare leisure moments. Nothing could thrill him as hunting did and when he was not engaged on state matters and the defending of his realm he indulged this pleasure with all the enthusiasm of which he was capable; but there were times when it was not possible to hunt; then he liked to sit down at the chessboard. The game with its implications of warlike strategies appealed to him and from his early days he had enjoyed pitting his wits against a worthy opponent.

On this occasion as he sat over the board one of the servants came running in from the courtyard.

‘My lord Duke, a messenger from Ponthieu. He asked immediate audience. He says it is news of the utmost importance.'

‘Bring him in,' said William.

The messenger came; he bowed hastily and said: ‘My Lord, Harold, Earl of Wessex, has landed in Normandy.'

‘By God's Splendour,' cried the Duke.

‘He is the prisoner of Count Guy. It seems he was shipwrecked off the coast of Ponthieu and the Count is now holding him for a ransom.'

‘Harold, Earl of Wessex . . . here in Normandy!'

Matilda had risen, her eyes brilliant.

‘He must be brought to me without delay,' said William.

The messenger hesitated and the Duke went on: ‘Come, tell me. Do not fear. What has your master said?'

‘He is holding the Earl of Wessex for a ransom.'

William laughed, a harsh laugh which his subjects and his children had learned to dread.

‘A ransom, eh? The Count of Ponthieu was never a good vassal of mine. The Earl of Wessex here in Normandy and held prisoner by one of my vassals.' He looked at Matilda. Her eyes were veiled. ‘I will have a message for you to take to your master,' went on William. ‘You have ridden far and need refreshment. You shall be given this and a fresh horse.'

When the man had gone William cried: ‘What great good fortune!'

‘You must bring him here. We must entertain him. We must keep him here until we have his promise not to oppose you.'

‘You speak my thoughts.'

They smiled at each other.

‘How did he come to be shipwrecked off our coast?'

‘I would guess,' said William, ‘that he was on a voyage to your father.'

‘For what purpose?'

‘It may have been to negotiate with me through him for the return of Wulfnoth and Haakon. Edward must be growing feeble and Harold wants no hostages here.'