The Fatal Crown (57 page)

Miles’s face cleared immediately. “You always were a fool.” He turned to Maud. “You should have consulted Robert before making him an offer.”

“I did as I thought best. Let me explain,” she said, in control now, leading Miles from the chamber. Over her shoulder, she threw Stephen a brief glance of gratitude. He winked at her in such a roguish manner that she had all she could do to keep from laughing aloud.

Maud did not see Stephen alone again and two days later Robert and Brian returned with William, Robert’s eldest son, who would escort Stephen to Bristol. The following morning he left to begin his captivity.

Maud joined Brian and Robert in the courtyard where, under a dark sky threatening rain, a banneret of knights and sumpter horses waited. Stephen, clad in a blue mantle and leather gauntlets, was mounted on a black stallion. His face was pale but composed; only his eyes reflected a shadowed sadness. Maud was filled with pity when she thought of the ordeal that lay ahead for him. Not that he would be mistreated or deprived of creature comforts, but for a man of action, confinement was a kind of living death.

Their eyes met and Stephen’s face suddenly came alive with warmth. Maud felt as if he had reached out and placed his hand around her heart. He gave her a jaunty smile, pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, then wheeled his horse around and, surrounded by the knights and sumpter horses, rode out of the courtyard followed by William of Gloucester and a troop of men-at-arms. Softly the rain began to fall.

T
WO WEEKS LATER, ON
a brisk, cool day in early march, Maud left for Winchester where Bishop Henry had agreed to meet with her outside the city gates. Although she had resolutely tried to push all thoughts of Stephen from her mind, his unseen presence was always with her, a silent witness to all that she said and did. Maud had little time to spare daydreaming about him, however, for an enormous challenge lay ahead: the difficult task of making England accept her as its new ruler. She would need all her wits about her in the stressful days that lay ahead.

Miles, Brian and Robert, as well as her half-brother’s army, accompanied her on the road south. Stephen might be a prisoner but a sufficient number of his forces were still at large to indicate the danger was not yet over.

Ten leagues from Gloucester they passed through a small Cotswold town. As Maud and her party rode into the village square, a crowd of eager citizens surrounded her white palfrey and urged her to address a few words to them.

“Good people,” Maud began, flattered by their obvious interest, then stopped. She had never before spoken to a large crowd. What would my father say, she wondered, then was suddenly inspired:

“I know what you have suffered under the reign of Stephen of Blois. When I become your queen I promise to bring back the days of King Henry, a time of peace and plenty in the land for men and beasts, a time when no man dared misdo another.”

There were shouts of support and agreement. “Aye,” a man’s voice cried, “bring back the days of the Lion of Justice and we’ll bless your reign with all our hearts.”

Cheers followed this statement and the crowd surged round her, doffing their caps and smiling. A woman with a little boy clinging to her skirts grabbed Maud’s hand and pressed it to her lips. Why, these are my people, Maud realized with a lump in her throat, identifying with them more strongly than she ever had before. Like herself, many were a mixture of Norman and Saxon blood. Despite everyone’s warnings they readily appeared to accept her for their queen. Choked with gratitude, she could only give the woman a tremulous smile and pray she would not disgrace herself by becoming tongue-tied.

Suddenly a stone sailed through the air over her head, landing not five feet away. The crowd drew back as a voice from the rear cried: “I hear tell this she-wolf has fettered our gentle King in the dungeons at Bristol like a common felon!”

Maud was aghast. “As God is my witness, that is not true,” she cried. “The former king is held in honorable confinement with the free run of Bristol Castle.”

Several voices shouted: “Free our true sovereign!”

Robert’s soldiers immediately closed in on the crowd; the troublemakers were spotted and hustled away. Maud had a brief glimpse of one dark, malevolent face continuing to hurl insults as he was dragged from the marketplace. She attempted to address the people again, but the damage had been done. The group silently dispersed.

As they continued on their journey to Winchester, Maud put the unpleasant incident behind her. It was an isolated occurrence, she assured herself, and not to be taken seriously. Except for those few malcontents, the people of the village had demonstrated their support. No shadow of doubt must spoil her triumphal march through southwest England. But even as she had the thought, Stephen’s words returned to her: “You will not tread an easy path, Cousin.”

Two days later she was eagerly awaiting Bishop Henry in her red-and-gold pavilion outside the city of Winchester. When he finally arrived amidst a drenching rainstorm, Maud greeted him with all the warmth she could summon, not trusting the slippery Bishop an inch.

“I’ve so looked forward to this day,” she said, offering him a camp stool and a goblet of wine.

As he seated himself, Henry pulled his cloak more closely about his shoulders, as if withdrawing into himself. Maud could not tell what thoughts passed through his mind but she sensed a resistance within him, one she would have to overcome.

“Move the brazier closer to His Grace,” she told Robert, who had joined them. “He looks chilled to the bone.”

Although her cousin’s aloof manner had always made Maud feel at a disadvantage, this time she would not allow him to intimidate her. Too much was at stake.

“I cannot make you Archbishop of Canterbury while Theobald of Bee lives,” she began without preamble, “but when I am queen I’m prepared to appoint you my chief adviser and minister. You will be to me what Roger of Salisbury was to my father. No prelate wielded greater lay power.”

Henry raised his brows as a frosty smile played about his bloodless lips. “And what do you demand in return for such a signal honor?”

Maud met his gaze squarely. “The keys to the treasury, the support of the Norman barons and the clergy of England, as well as Rome’s blessing.”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “Benedicte! You do not want much! I can’t work miracles, heaven forfend.” His eyes narrowed. “And it will require nothing less than a miracle, Madam, for men to accept a woman with an Angevin husband as heir to the throne of England.” He looked down at his hands, the graceful fingers sparkling with rings in the light of the charcoal brazier. “That’s always been the difficulty ever since your father made the foolhardy decision to name you his heir.”

Although Henry’s words were offensive, designed to wound, more terrifying still was the implication that he might not help her. Quelling a surge of panic she wondered in desperation how she might woo him. Flatter him, said Stephen’s voice in her head as clearly as if he were standing next to her. Be artful, play the woman, not the queen.

“That is exactly why I’m so dependent upon you, Cousin,” she said slowly. “With your wisdom to guide me I hope to convince everyone that my father’s decision was not foolhardy.” She gave him what she hoped was her most winning smile.

Henry slowly sipped his goblet of wine and she sensed a weakening in his resistance. “You ask me to prevail against centuries of custom and prejudice—”

“What more can I offer you?” she interjected, recalling her days at the Imperial court, watching the crafty Emperor bargain with ambitious princes of the church. “You have only to ask, Your Grace. I’ll grant whatever you wish—if it lies within my power to do so.”

A fleeting look of satisfaction crossed the Bishop’s face. Maud held her breath.

“Should I agree—and I’ve made no such promise, mind—you must, for a start, be willing to submit to my decision all appointments made to bishoprics and abbeys. In addition, I must have absolute certainty that you will not attempt to interfere in matters pertaining to Holy Church, nor try to make her subservient to the crown in any way.”

It was what she had anticipated. “Agreed. I promise to abide by all you have said. On the head of my son and heir, by any holy relic of your choice.”

Henry again raised his brows. “Of course you agree now. But why should I accept your word? My brother also made such promises and we all know how he kept them.”

“We must trust each other,” Maud said simply. “I’m not such a fool as to go against Holy Church when I need her support so badly, when I need
you
so badly. My word is my bond.”

He acknowledged this with a slight inclination of the head. “I make no promises,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Particularly where the barons are concerned. However, I’ll admit you into Winchester and summon what clergymen and nobles are willing to come. I’ll also invite the Archbishop of Canterbury to attend us. Without him you cannot be crowned.” He rose to his feet. “If it appears you may be accepted, then, and only then, I’ll arrange for the keys of the treasury to be put into your hands and agree to serve you as my sovereign in the capacity you have suggested.”

“Thank you, Cousin,” Maud said. “I’m in your hands.”

“We are all in God’s hands,” Henry corrected her as he left.

Robert stood up and wiped his brow. “By the Mass, that was well done, Sister. I would sooner bargain with the devil himself than match wits with the Bishop of Winchester.”

“Will he persuade them, Brother? Could I have done more?”

“More?” Robert rolled his eyes. “For a moment I feared you might offer him the crown itself!”

They fell into each other’s arms in a sudden fit of laughter.

Maud waited outside Winchester for over a week, chafing at the delay. Finally she received word from the Bishop that all was in readiness and she might enter the city, but he could not predict how she would be received.

Dressed in cloth-of-gold and purple velvet, her neck, wrists and fingers glittering with jewels, Maud rode into Winchester at the head of a magnificent procession. The streets of the city were lined with people curious to see her. Maud recognized merchants in rich, fur-trimmed robes, stout yeomen with their wives and children decked out in their best finery, black-robed priests, threadbare cotters, and mercenary knights.

No one cheered her as she rode by on her white palfrey but the faces in the crowd were not unfriendly. Maud smiled at the people and raised her hand in greeting, drinking in the sights around her. She had not visited Winchester for ten years yet everything looked familiar: the numerous monasteries and churches; the gaily decorated booths that gave off the succulent odor of roasted meat and hot pasties; a brief glimpse at the end of the High Street of the stone-and-timber castle built by her grandfather. When they passed Jewrey Street, she was reminded anew of Stephen, and the constant void in her heart.

When Maud reached the cathedral, undergoing construction, the bells were pealing the hour of Sext. She was greeted by the Bishop of Winchester dressed in his ceremonial robes, a gold-encrusted miter atop his head and a jeweled crosier in his hand.

Off to one side, she saw abbots and bishops clustered together like black birds of prey. Across the cathedral square hovered a group of richly dressed barons; Maud recognized many who had first sworn homage to her and then pledged allegiance to Stephen.

“This was well done, Your Grace,” Maud said to Henry as they entered the cathedral to attend the noon Mass. “I hardly expected so many to turn out. It is most encouraging.”

“So it appears, but remember that none have yet committed themselves.”

After the service Maud rode into the marketplace where the Bishop had arranged for a public meeting to be held. She listened intently as Henry begin to speak in a strong, melodious voice that carried to the far reaches of the assembly. Her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd to catch every response.

“This ship of state, created by my grandfather, Duke William of Normandy, first Norman King of England, and made even more powerful and strong by my uncle, King Henry, has foundered on the shoals of my brother’s disastrous reign.” He paused. Two beads of sweat rolled down his temple.

It was so quiet in the square that Maud could hear the thudding of her own heart. She wondered how Henry would explain why he was now deserting the brother he had helped put on the throne six years earlier in favor of herself, whom he had soundly denounced at the time.

“Naturally, I love my brother, as God commands us all to do,” the Bishop continued, “but time and again I remonstrated with him to see justice done, to treat Holy Church with the reverence and respect that is her due, to keep peace and order in the land. Yet my words were rebuffed, my efforts scorned.” His voice rose on the wind like thunder. “God’s judgment has been executed against my brother; he has fallen victim to those who had the greater right to rule than he!” There was a sharp indrawn breath as every eye turned to Maud. “The lesson is plain. We must bow before the wisdom of a higher power and accept the signal God has sent us.” He turned to point a finger at Maud. “Here is new hope in the person of Maud, a daughter of England and Normandy, only heir of our late beloved King Henry. A devoted supporter of Holy Church, the mother of three sons, an empress, who ruled with her late husband at the Imperial court, she has all the qualifications to be queen of our realm. Can we do less than promise her our fealty?”

“What a clever rogue,” Robert said in Maud’s ear. “He tactfully omits all mention of Geoffrey of Anjou, nor does he bring up the uncomfortable matter of previous oaths sworn to Stephen. Impressive.”

Maud was equally impressed with the Bishop’s crafty eloquence, but had he won her the adherents she so desperately needed?

There was a brief silence while her life seemed to hang in the balance. Then the first murmurs of approval slowly began, building to a modest burst of shouts of support and recognition. Her relief was so intense she could hardly keep from crying it aloud. If this was not the wild, unanimous acclaim Maud longed to hear, that would come, in time. She felt sure of it. A new confidence bubbled up within her and, unable to contain her feeling of buoyancy, she turned to Robert and hugged him so hard he pleaded to be let loose before his ribs cracked.