To Defy a King (16 page)

Filled with dread, she followed the man to the Earl's chamber. He stood in the middle of the room waiting for her, and Mahelt gasped in horror as she saw her brother's groom Tarant draped between two household knights. He was beaten and bloody, his hands bound with cord. She felt as if a vast hole had opened up beneath her feet and that she was falling and falling even while she stood her ground.

The Earl's grey-blue eyes were as cold as a winter sea. 'Do you know anything of this business, daughter?' he demanded. 'Do you know this man?'

Mahelt shook her head. 'I have never seen him before in my life,' she lied, her mouth dry with terror.

'Well then, I can only assume since he has no business being on my lands, and he won't say what he was doing, that he is a traitor or a spy and must be dealt with accordingly. ' He gave her a hard stare. 'What do you think we should do with him, my girl? String him up?'

Fear made her voice hoarse. 'Perhaps he is just passing through on his way elsewhere, sire.'

'Elsewhere is not here, and what business does he have in the dead before dawn?'

In the long, uncomfortable silence, Mahelt dug her nails into her palms and wondered whether to confess that she had been to see her brother. She was almost certain the Earl knew and that this was her punishment. Should she own up, or brazen it out?

'He wears your father's colours. Are you sure you know him not?' The Earl opened his clenched fist, palm upwards, to show her a small enamel horse pendant bearing the Marshal lion on the familiar green and gold background.

Her knees almost buckled. 'He may be part of my father's household but I don't know all of the servants,' she said faintly.

The Earl's top lip curled. 'We'll find out one way or another. I can always write to the King and let him know we caught this man prowling.'

Mahelt's eyes widened. 'No!'

'Ah, so you do know him.'

Mahelt looked down, avoiding the Earl's gimlet stare, and gave an infinitesimal nod.

'So what was your business with him? I will have it out.' His voice thickened. 'By God, I will have the knowledge of what goes on in my domain!'

'I only wanted to meet with my brother,' Mahelt whispered. 'I haven't seen him for so long.' She wiped her sleeve across her eyes. 'It was my only chance. I had to know he was all right.'

'And in so doing, you disobeyed my will,' Roger said harshly. 'You put a ladder over the wall. You endangered both your moral and physical welfare.

But what is inexcusable is that you compromised the safety of this household. I will not have it.'

Mahelt had never before received a tongue-lashing of this power. Before her marriage she had been the darling, the favoured daughter. Her heart thudded against her ribs. She was scared, cornered, and angry. 'He's my brother,' she repeated.

'Indeed, and you will have fitting opportunities to see him that do not involve irresponsible escapades in the dead of night. I want you to go now and fetch me the business that this was about.'

Mahelt's breath locked in her throat. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'Then perhaps a look inside your mattress will remind you. Bring me that parchment now. I will not be played for a fool. Hamo, go with her.' He gestured to one of his knights.

Mahelt tottered from the room on wobbly legs. There wasn't a hope of getting rid of the parchment or defacing it with a hard-faced knight at her side, and since her father-in-law knew about its existence, he was already one step ahead of her in the game. When she entered her chamber, Edeva was still there and Mahelt knew who was to blame.

'I had to tell him, my lady,' Edeva wept, wringing her hands all over again.

'I was so afraid for you . . .'

Mahelt said nothing because she was so full of rage and so hollow with terror that dealing with Edeva, even speaking to her, was impossible. As she removed the folded parchment from the slit in the mattress under Hamo's frigid, watchful stare she wanted to die. Her brother had trusted her and she had not been up to the task. Had the ladder still been there, she would have thrown it over the wall again and run away. As it was, she retreated within herself and it was as if a stranger walked down the stairs, re-entered the chamber, and handed over the parchment to the waiting man, while she watched in angry shame from a distance.

The Earl read the page with a closed expression on his face. 'This does not reflect well on your brother, or your brother's loyalty, does it?' he said icily.

'Or yours for that matter.' He compressed his lips. 'You need to be taught whose side you are on, my girl, and whose interests you serve. Not your brother's, not your birth family's. You serve the blood into which you have married. While you are under this roof, your loyalty is to the Bigod name and honour above all other considerations. Is that understood?'

Mahelt gritted her teeth. 'Yes, sire,' she said, knowing she would never forgive him for this humiliation. Raising her head like a queen, she went to stand beside her brother's groom in a gesture of solidarity.

'Were you born to me, I would have had you tied at the whipping post for this,' Roger growled. 'A pity your father did not lay on with the lash when it was needed. I have been too lenient. If you have time for this sort of caper, you are being under-employed. I will have no more of this . . . this wasps'

nest.' He thrust the parchment into the brazier and watched it curl and blaze up, before being licked to ashes. Then he gave a brusque wave of his hand.

'You can take your accomplice out now and tend to him. After that he may go, and I will hear no more of this business - ever. Cut his bonds.' He gestured to Hamo.

Mahelt made herself curtsey to the Earl and helped Tarant away to the tack alcove in the stables. She had a youth fetch her a bowl of water and a cloth so she could bathe the groom's purple, swollen eye, and she brought him bread and ale herself. He drank, but did not eat because the inside of his mouth was ribboned with cuts and he had several loose teeth.

'He knew, mistress, he knew,' Tarant slurred as she dabbed at him. 'But I didn't tell him, I swear I did not.'

'I know that.' Her throat was tight. 'I only wanted to help my family.' She felt as if her burden was too much to bear. She was sorry for Tarant and guilty too, but it was as if she too had been beaten. 'Do you think the Earl really will tell King John?' she whispered.

Tarant swallowed a mouthful of ale and gasped with pain. 'No, mistress, because then the King might suspect he is implicated too. I believe he was trying to frighten you.'

Mahelt bowed her head. 'I only wanted to do what was best, but it is all such a mess,' she said.

Tarant gestured her to stop dabbing at his bruises. 'Have courage, young mistress. Let all settle down for now.'

She felt ashamed that out of his pain he was yet trying to comfort her, and she was sick with anger too. She knew the Earl thought he was teaching her a lesson about actions and consequences, but she had only been trying to help her family and she fiercely resented the way he had humiliated her.

'I don't want you to return to my brother,' she said. 'I want you to go to Ireland, to my mother and Jean D'Earley.' As she helped him to his horse, she told him all that she could remember from reading the details on the parchment. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. It was a little bit of defiance and it felt good.

When Tarant had ridden out, hunched over his saddle, nursing his bruised ribs and tender stomach, Mahelt went to Ida's chamber, knowing it was expected of her and that, no matter how unpleasant, she had to face this out.

Ida had been weeping and her face was blotched and puffy. She sat near the window with her sewing, taking neat, fast stitches, as if by doing so she could mend the world and make everything right again. Mahelt paused on the threshold, washed by guilt at the sight of the older woman's bowed head and sorrowful air. She crossed the room and put her arms around her. 'I am sorry if I brought trouble upon you, my lady mother,' she said, and meant it.

She would not hurt Ida for the world.

Ida was rigid at first, but eventually softened to accept the embrace, although she did not reciprocate. 'Do you know how much danger you were in?' Her voice trembled with distress. 'We are bound in sacred trust to look after you.

What would we tell your parents if you had taken a fall and been killed or abducted? You may believe you are immortal, but you are not. You should think on all the grief you have caused those who care for your welfare.'

Tears bloomed in her soft brown eyes. 'The Earl blames me. He says I have not been giving you enough to do, and he blames Hugh also for not being a strict enough husband.'

Mahelt gasped. 'That's not fair!'

'No.' Ida raised her hand. 'The Earl is within his rights - and whatever you may think of him, he is never less than fair.'

Mahelt disagreed with that, but said nothing.

Ida drew a deep, steadying breath. 'I know you do not care for sewing, but you are good at supervision and you have boundless energy. It is only right you should take over more duties now you have been here awhile. The Earl thinks it will steady you to the yoke. I should have seen to it that you had more tasks before now, but I did not want to burden you too soon into the marriage. I see now I was wrong.'

Mahelt was stung. 'I know how to be responsible.'

Ida arched her brow. 'Going over the wall in the night hardly shows maturity, even if you thought you were doing the right thing. It is time you learned more about your responsibility to this household.' Her mother-in-law emphasised the last two words. 'I know it is upsetting to have your family far away and your brothers sent hither and yon at the King's whim, but your life is with us now, and you must learn to live by our rules.'

'Yes, Mother,' Mahelt said with a mutinous pout.

'Come.' Ida left her sewing and rose to her feet. 'We're returning to Framlingham on the morrow and we need to pack. Let me see how responsible you truly are.'

With a feeling of resignation, Mahelt followed Ida to the baggage chests in the corner of the room.

'Once we are back, the Earl wants you to oversee the mulching of the apples for making cider and storing over winter,' Ida said as she opened the lid of the nearest chest. 'It is something I usually do, but it will be your task now, from start to finish.'

'Yes, Mother,' Mahelt said dutifully. She supposed that, on balance, apple-mulching was better than being given a mound of sewing to do, but it was still a mundane, domestic trifle when set against her family's struggle to survive.

15

Thetford Forest, October 1207

Drawing on his cloak, hair rumpled from slumber, Hugh parted the tent flaps and stepped into the autumn forest morning. Smoke twirled from the camp fire and his companions were stirring lethargically to life in the aftermath of last's night's conviviality. Hugh had a sore head and a tannic taste in his mouth, but counted them a small price to pay for the enjoyment he had had.

His brother William and his brother-in-law Ranulf were nursing their heads as they sat by the fire, eating bread and cold sausage and drinking weak English ale. Joining them, Hugh playfully tipped William's hat over his eyes.

'It was a good night, eh?' He glanced across to where the huntsmen were securing butchered deer carcasses on to the packhorses. There would be good prime venison for the table and the smoke house. The dogs had also coursed several hares to add to the tally.

'I think so, from what I remember.' Ranulf gave a theatrical grimace. His light green eyes were narrowed against the sharpness of the morning light.

'Marie says you are a bad influence. You always manage to lead me astray.'

Hugh laughed. 'My sister would say that. In truth, you're quite capable of going astray all by yourself.'

Ranulf snorted and made a rude gesture, then he looked up as a messenger rode into the camp. 'Trouble,' he said.

Frowning, wondering what was so important it couldn't wait, Hugh went to the man and took the folded parchment he produced from his satchel. It bore his father's seal and the image in the wax was very solid, as if impressed with a decisive, perhaps angry hand. With a hollow feeling in his belly, he broke the seal, opened out the letter and began to read. The words on the page inflated within him until finally he could take no more and let out his tension on a huge sigh.

'What is it?' William asked, looking anxious.

Hugh made a face. 'What do you think? Mahelt.'

'Ah.' His brother rolled his eyes and grinned. 'She's been disturbing the order of the household again, I take it?'

'You might say that.' Hugh handed the parchment to William, who shared it with Ranulf while they finished their ale.

William looked up at Hugh, no longer laughing but serious. 'What are you going to do?'

Hugh puffed out his cheeks. 'I don't know. If I bat her down too strongly, then I lose her trust and the very part of her that makes her individual, and I would not do that for the world.'

'But you must do something,' William said. 'This was more than just folly.

It could have had serious repercussions for all of us.'

'I know.' Hugh bit his thumb knuckle. 'She doesn't think before she acts.'

Ranulf cleared his throat. 'The men accompanying your wife's brother . . .'

He paused and shook his head. 'De Sandford is a loyal king's man, but John FitzRobert is known as a hothead in my neck of the woods.'

'His father is loyal to the King though, and constable of Newcastle.'

'Yes, but the son keeps company with John de Lacy, who is a rash one too, and de Lacy's father is close kin with the Irish branch of the family. De Braose, de Lacy and Marshal.' Ranulf counted the names on his fingers.

'John would curb all three if he could because he fears their power.' He wagged a warning forefinger. 'Even if he is a hostage, your wife's brother is keeping suspect company - and the King will be watching, because his spies are everywhere.'

'But Roger de Lacy is as solid as a rock,' Hugh said, thinking of Pontefract's dour, trap-mouthed constable.