The Devil's Diadem (36 page)

I sat down on a chair with a thump, pulling off my mantle with tired, jerky movements. ‘I have a woman, Evelyn Kendal,’ I said to fitzErfast. ‘She cannot be far away. Can you have someone find her and send her to me?’

‘Immediately, my lady,’ fitzErfast said, and started for the door. ‘FitzErfast,’ Raife said, just before the steward vanished, ‘send also one of the servants to Westminster Palace to let the king know, either now or when he rises in the morning, of my arrival. I am sure he is well informed anyway, but the servant will be a courtesy.’

FitzErfast hesitated. ‘The king is not at Westminster, my lord earl,’ he said.

‘Not at Westminster? Lord God, fitzErfast, do not tell me we have ridden all this way for naught!’

‘Not at Westminster,’ fitzErfast said, ‘but at the Tower.’

‘The Tower?’ Raife hesitated, staring unbelievingly at fitzErfast for a heartbeat, then he strode over to the chamber’s window and flung open the shutters.

Despite my fatigue, I rose and walked over to see.

There, in the not-so-far distance across some fields, a commanding square tower rose into the night, lights gleaming from behind its narrow slit windows.

‘He has gone to the Conqueror’s Tower,’ muttered Raife. ‘Why? Why?’

Chapter Three

I
rose in the pre-dawn darkness, wrapping myself in a soft woollen coverlet as I made my way to the privy set into the thick stone walls of the house. When I came back to bed and slid once more under the warm covers, Raife pulled me close, complaining sleepily about my cold skin. We lay for a while in silence, both of us awake, before Raife spoke.

‘How do you feel this morning, wife?’

‘Better for the night’s rest,’ I said. I hesitated. ‘Do we need to go to court today?’

His arm tightened about me momentarily as he gave me a gentle hug. ‘I will go, but you may stay here and rest if you wish. I will pass onto Edmond your flatteries and excuses.’

I laughed softly. ‘Thank you, husband.’

‘You must eat today.’

‘I will, I promise. A day spent in a chair rather than on Dulcette’s back will work miracles on my appetite.’ I was touched by his kindness (and relieved that I did not have to attend court), and turned over in his arms to kiss him softly.

‘You will delay my attendance at court,’ he murmured.

‘Good,’ I said, and kissed him again, more deeply this time.

Later, when he was dressing, I propped myself up on an elbow and waited until his valet, Charles, had stopped fussing. Raife was garbed in a magnificent tunic, a jewelled sword belt I had not seen before (and with my purse attached to it, I was glad to see), and a mantle of such richness that, had I not been so languid from our travelling, and our early morning love-making, I would have been hard pressed not to have risen from our bed and buried my hands and face in it.

‘What is the Conqueror’s Tower?’ I asked.

Raife sat down in a chair while Charles handed him his shoes. (I had seen none of this clothing before, and thought that Raife must keep it exclusively in this house for court wear.)

‘It is the tower that William the Conqueror had built in the north-east corner of London,’ he said, pulling on one shoe then reaching for the other. ‘You will see it clearly once you have risen and can find the energy to walk to the window.’

His eyes crinkled in amusement as he said this, and I knew we were both thinking of our earlier ardent activity. It had not been easy to find time for love-making during our travels as either I was too fatigued or we shared a chamber with too many others, and to find ourselves once again with the privacy of our own chamber was a luxury we had taken full advantage of. I blessed again Raife’s somewhat unusual habit of not having any of our servants or attendants to sleep at the foot of the bed.

‘And Edmond being there is unusual?’ I asked, remembering Raife’s reaction last night.

‘Yes. It is a great palace, but usually Edmond, as other kings before him, prefers the more commodious palace at Westminster. But the Conqueror’s Tower is far more defensible.’ Raife paused, the final shoe half on, half off. ‘I wonder what he fears …’

He shrugged and pulled the shoe on, then came over and kissed me. ‘I will not stay for the evening’s entertainment, but will be back to sup with you. My worry for you shall be excuse enough for Edmond. Ask fitzErfast to fetch the chest of new clothes I ordered for you — that should keep you and Evelyn happy enough until I return. And rest. And eat.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ I said, and then he was gone, shouting for his knights and companions to accompany him to the Tower.

A few minutes after he left I rose, opening the shutters of the window. I was just in time to see Raife’s party ride out. Thirty or forty strong, it comprised some of Raife’s most senior knights, their squires, and about ten ordinary soldiers. Everyone was dressed in their best, and at the head of the column rode a young man with the Pengraic pennant fluttering from a staff.

Raife rode just behind the young man with the pennant, and I watched until he grew too distant for me to make out his features.

I lifted my eyes to the Tower. It was massive, rising some three levels above ground and composed of grey-brown stone with creamier stones delineating its corners and narrow windows. Four towers rose from each corner: three square and one round. It looked impregnable.

A curtain wall, looking to be of somewhat newer construction than the Tower, ran about it, and a moat outside that.

I looked down. There were mostly fields, dotted with only a few houses, between the Tower and where this house stood just off the crest of Cornhill. A tournament field had been set up in one of the fields closest to the Tower.

I looked for Raife and his escort, and saw them cantering down a track that led through the fields.

He was going to be there in only a few minutes.

I raised my eyes to the Conqueror’s Tower again.

There waited Edmond.

I spent the day quietly, but in a welter of worry for what was happening at court. I remembered Henry’s antagonism for my husband very clearly, as well as Saint-Valery’s words about how Edmond distrusted Raife, and I hoped, quite desperately, that Raife would return safe and well at the end of the day.

After I had prayed and then broken my fast with Evelyn, fitzErfast sent to my chamber the chest of clothes Raife had caused to be made.

I thought the silken kirtles I, Evelyn and Sewenna had sewed in Pengraic were rich and beautiful, but they were as nothing compared to these. The silk fabrics had been delicately stitched with intricate patterns of flowers and leaves in threads of gold and silver, crimsons, emeralds, turquoises, azures and creams. One gown had golden figures of dancers and minstrels about its hem, another figures of stags and horsemen. They were astounding, rich beyond belief.

Evelyn smiled wryly as she delicately folded them back into the chest. ‘The earl makes a grand statement with these, Maeb, as he does with you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘His power,’ she said. ‘His wealth. The beauty he commands. Poor Lady Adelie never cut a fine figure at court, but you …’

‘Lady Adelie was beautiful!’ I said, remembering how she had looked the night of the royal feast at Rosseley.

Again that wry smile from Evelyn. ‘Not as you are, Maeb. You shall outshine everyone there, even Edmond.’

‘Surely not,’ I said, thinking that would be a dangerous thing to do. Evelyn chuckled. ‘Wait for a night of grand feasting, Maeb, and, you will see … Raife and yourself shall
groan
under the weight of the jewels the earl can summon!’

I shivered, and for a moment wished I was the wife of a minor nobleman who did not have to play such courtly games, nor attract the envious and bitter gazes of those who wished to strip my husband of his power and seize his wealth for themselves.

Later in the day fitzErfast showed Evelyn and myself about the house. While smaller than Pengraic Castle, of course, it was nonetheless impressive. The house was divided in two by a stone spine wall. Down one side of this wall ran the hall; on the other side of the wall, over two levels, ran store rooms on the lower level, and a solar and various privy apartments on the upper level. Underneath the whole was a vaulted crypt, one part of which was arranged as a small chapel, the other as storage. As at Pengraic, the crypt also held large cisterns of water collected from the roof.

Outside was a sizeable courtyard bounded by the kitchen, a well, dormitories and stabling — accommodation for a large number of men and their horses. Beyond the courtyard, fitzErfast said, were several fields, an orchard, and a training ring for men and horses.

All in all, it felt like a small, wealthy estate, but one held within the walls of a city.

‘You will need to learn to play the lady, fast,’ said Evelyn.

The afternoon I spent resting, then bathing in a large wooden tub Evelyn had caused to be brought to the privy chamber, draped with linens, and then filled with hot water. I luxuriated in the soak, washing away the grime and stink of travel, and Evelyn washed out my hair before combing it through with oil to make it shine.

That evening, to my relief, Raife returned. ‘I have found you a friend at court,’ he said. ‘She shall be waiting for you tomorrow.’

Chapter Four

I
stood, smoothing the fine linen kirtle over my body, feeling as nervous as I had at my betrothal. It was a warm day and this, combined with the fact that it was not a feast day or other special occasion, had dictated my choice of kirtle. This one, a beautiful cornflower-blue embroidered with crimson, gold and green, was rich and opulent in its own right — more magnificent than anything I’d ever worn previously — but was not among the most splendid of the gowns available to me.

I wore also the lovely jewelled girdle Raife had given me on our betrothal day, its gold and jewels reflecting the embroidery on the kirtle. Evelyn had plaited my hair again in the loose plait over my shoulder, the braiding ending at my waist so that a mass of hair hung freely to my knees. The braid was interspersed with golden jewelled flowers, glinting amid the blackness of my hair.

I felt a pretender. Some fool woman who thought she could attend the court of the king and pass herself off as the Countess of Pengraic.

‘You will do well,’ said Raife, giving me a smile and kissing my hand in courtly style.

‘I have no idea —’

‘Lady Alianor will guide you,’ he said.

Lady Alianor de Lacy, wife of the lord of Bouland and of Blachburnscire. A powerful neighbour in Raife’s lands in the north of England. An ally. Lady Alianor was to be my friend at court, my guide through its intricacies, and my mentor in its dangers.

‘I will not always be able to be with you,’ Raife had told me last night, ‘but Lady Alianor can be. Let her guide you.’

‘Can I trust her?’ I asked my husband now. ‘Almost completely,’ he said, stepping to one side as he drew on his gloves. Evelyn came to help me with my mantle, brushing aside my trembling fingers to fasten it with a large bronzed brooch.

‘
Almost?
’ I said as Evelyn left the chamber.

He gave me a significant look. ‘There will be some matters best kept to yourself,’ he said. ‘Remember always that your loyalty is to me first, even before Edmond.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘There will be people who will come to court you today, flatter you and all the while hunt for your secrets,’ Raife said. ‘Be wary of them all. You are the road to me, the doorway to my vulnerabilities. Keep that door closed.’

He took me by the shoulders. ‘Maeb, you and I … there has grown an affection between us, I think. It is comforting, and makes our nights the sweeter, but I fear it also, for how easily it could undo me. Be careful, Maeb, for in holding my heart in your hands you also hold the power to create such havoc …’

Dear God!
I silently thanked him for undermining my confidence with his unfathomable words. What if I betrayed Raife in my first nerve-ridden babble of conversation with some meaningless, thoughtless remark born of my unease? I had been so grossly indiscreet with Madog ap Gruffydd, a man I had already been uncertain of, what might I do at Edmond’s court?

‘Ah, I am sorry,’ he said, leaning forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. ‘Thus speaks my nerves, only. Just be careful today, Maeb, eh? Now, come. We shall go to court and I am sure you will do me proud.’

And thus poor orphaned Mistress Maeb Langtofte, left by her father with no dowry and nowhere to call home had, by a set of remarkable and tragic events, found herself the Countess of Pengraic, off to court to meet the king.

We approached the Conqueror’s Tower slowly. Yesterday Raife had ridden with his escort at a full canter. Now we proceeded with grace and elegance at a leisurely pace. Behind us rode a half score of knights and their squires, and a squad of some sixteen soldiers, and enough banners and pennants to decorate a great hall. Overhead the sun shone, about us various riders and walkers stood to one side and watched with curiosity as we passed, and a group of knights practising with their swords on the tournament field came to a halt, turning to peer at us with their hands shielding their eyes from the sun.

I felt ill, but could not blame the pregnancy for it. Raife — as resplendent as I — gave me a concerned glance, but said nothing.

As we approached the outer curtain wall, I swallowed and squared my shoulders. I would cope and I would make Raife proud.

There was an enormous gate, protected by a square tower, in the western aspect of the wall, and we approached it across a long stone bridge that gave access over the deep moat.

‘The wall is new,’ I said, speaking not so much for the sake of discussing the wall, but to let Raife know that my mind was not completely consumed by my nervousness.

He gave a nod. ‘Edmond has spent much of his reign extending the defences of the wall, as well as building new quarters and a new great hall within the inner bailey. That inner building is still underway, we shall have to content ourselves with the great hall within the tower, but one day, perhaps in five years or so, this tower complex shall be a great glory to the king and to England.’