To Defy a King (19 page)

Roger took a deep breath because he was not relishing the next few moments, but things had to be said, and when he remembered what had happened behind his back at Thetford, it still made him hot with anger.

Putting his head down, he walked bullishly across the room and joined William Marshal with a formal bow.

The Marshal had kept his looks into late middle age. The flesh was taut upon his handsome long bones, but close up Roger could see how gaunt he had become since Hugh and Mahelt's wedding. There were hollows under his cheekbones and haggard shadows beneath his eyes.

William gave Roger the smile of a professional courtier. 'I hear the court is moving to Freemantle on the morrow,' he said.

Roger inclined his head. 'At least the roads are dry,' he replied, feeling irritated. He didn't want to involve himself in stilted chit-chat and, for his own good, he couldn't afford to be seen talking for too long to the Earl of Pembroke.

'How is your daughter faring?' William asked after a moment, still smiling.

Roger was well aware that William was referring to Mahelt, not Marie or Marguerite. He said curtly, 'I was under the impression she was your daughter, my lord.'

There was a taut silence as each man absorbed the meanings underlying the words. A muscle flickered in William's cheek. 'Alas, not any more now that she is a Bigod, but I hope she is doing sterling service and I . . . I think of her often . . .'

Roger was taken aback to hear a sudden crack of emotion in the other man's voice and see a glitter in his eyes. William Marshal was usually a consummate courtier, hiding all behind an attitude of genial, relaxed calm.

In that moment, Roger realised how much the man truly cared for Mahelt, but that in itself was dangerous. Life should have balance and that balance should not be on a knife edge. 'Be assured of our care for her welfare,' he replied. 'We will do everything in our power to nurture and protect her. He gave William a strong look. 'I keep a vigilant eye on all that happens within our jurisdiction.'

William bowed. 'As indeed you should, my lord.'

Roger returned the compliment. 'I am glad we understand each other,' he said and moved to join another group. He rubbed his sweating palms together in a gesture that encompassed both washing his hands and dusting them off. It was over and done with. Closed. Glancing back, he saw that William's erect stance had slumped a little. A part of him felt triumphant and vindicated, but it was the smaller, meaner part. In his greater self he was alarmed and even sympathetic because, in truth, any man in this room could find himself in William's difficult position at a moment's notice. Two years ago, the Marshal had said he was a mirror for all of them, and he had not lied.

Hugh found himself alone with his brother by marriage as they made their way to the latrines. His father had approached William Marshal. Now it was his duty to talk to Will. Making sure no one else was within hearing, Hugh said, 'You should not have involved your sister in your activities. You put her in grave danger.'

The young man shot him a look from eyes the same changeable dye-pot hue as Mahelt's. 'You do not know my sister,' he said with an air of contempt.

'I am swiftly coming to do so,' Hugh replied, unsmiling. 'She would put herself in peril of her life for you and your father and her birth family. She does nothing by halves and her loyalty is fierce and true. You should not involve her in your schemes. As her husband I am duty bound to care for her welfare and her honour and I will have neither compromised.'

Will continued to look scornful. 'Then do not put her on too tight a rein because she will not thrive.'

Hugh narrowed his eyes. 'Neither will she thrive if she is endangered by your rash behaviour.'

Will's lip curled. 'We are all endangered, "brother", and all of the time.'

Hugh resisted the urge to seize Will by the throat. 'Maybe so, but for the moment, at Framlingham, she has stability. You endangered her by your reckless scheme and you incurred the wrath of my father when he found out.

Now he does not trust her and her life has become a cage because of it.

There is little I can do to mend her situation because my father's word is the law and because he is right. Not only have you caused damage to our household and your sister, you have strained the bonds between my father and yours. There have been consequences and you should realise that -

"brother".'

A red flush starred Will's cheekbones. 'I know the meaning of honour,' he said curtly, 'and so does my sister. We do not need you to teach it to us.'

'Then learn prudence to go with it,' Hugh snapped. 'Think on what I have said - and think on your sister's welfare.'

17

Framlingham, March 1208

Riding into the village of Kettleburgh, Mahelt started and looked round in consternation as a woman's hysterical screams and the shrieks of children pierced the bright spring air. 'What's that?' she demanded.

Ida took a firmer grip on her mare's reins, looking worried. 'I do not know.'

Their escort closed ranks around the women and the laden pack ponies. Ida and Mahelt were returning to Framlingham from a week's visit to the Bigod house and quay in Ipswich. The roads were mostly safe for those who travelled with the protection of armed men, but times were becoming increasingly troubled.

As Mahelt and Ida reached the turning that branched off to the small church, they were astonished to see a wailing woman, wrists tied, being dragged along at the tail of a soldier's horse. Tears streamed down her face. Her headdress had been torn off and unkempt grey braids snaked around her shoulders. Behind another horse, two children were being similarly tugged along - a weeping girl of about ten and a younger spindle-legged boy with grubby knees.

The soldiers were hard-faced men wearing mail shirts with swords at their hips and cudgels in their hands, but they reined back at the sight of the Bigod entourage and gave them right of way. Mahelt's brother-in-law William was marshalling their journey homewards and he drew out of line to speak with the men, while the woman and her children continued to weep and howl.

'It's the interdict,' William reported, rejoining Mahelt and his mother. 'The King says that if priests will not serve the country, then he will no longer tolerate their lax ways.' He nodded at the soldiers and their captives.

'They're sheriff's men and they've been sent to arrest any woman known to be a priest's concubine. She says she's been his wife for twelve years, but since priests aren't allowed to marry, they say she's his whore and those are her bastards.'

'What's going to happen to them?' Mahelt cast a sympathetic look at the mother and children, but knew there was nothing they could do. The interdict had recently been pronounced on the King and the country by papal decree because there was a dispute over who should be the next Archbishop of Canterbury. John had refused to accept the Pope's candidate, Stephen Langton, and in retaliation Rome had applied sanctions to all of England.

The dispute had been simmering for two years, giving plenty of scope for dissatisfied men to use its momentum to make trouble. Mahelt hated John, but in keeping with most folk she thought the Pope's behaviour heavy-handed and that it was not his business to reach out from Rome and say who should be the next Archbishop of Canterbury. An interdict meant that the clergy had to refuse to perform their offices. No church bells were to be rung, no masses celebrated, no marriages blessed, no confessions heard, no bodies buried in hallowed ground. The only services undertaken were baptism of the newborn and extreme unction for the dying. In reply to the sanctions, John had ordered Church lands to be seized and put into administration, but this policy of arresting the families of priests was a new twist - an ingenious and spiteful one.

William shrugged. 'They'll be taken to Norwich and thrown in gaol. If the priest wants to see them again, he'll have to pay a ransom to get them back.'

Mahelt exchanged pertinent glances with Ida as they rode on towards Framlingham and had a 'wife' who worked as a seamstress in Ida's chamber. They had a little girl of two years old and a baby in the cradle.

'Will the sheriff's men come for Wengeva?'

'I don't know.' Ida looked anxious. 'I hope not. The sheriff is a King's man but he has no cause to harry us at Framlingham.'

Mahelt shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. Ida was not accusing her or even making oblique reference to the incident with her brother, but Mahelt's own guilt was a hard taskmaster. She did not regret going over the wall, but she had come to realise how dangerous it had been for more than just herself and Will.

Framlingham was bustling with activity when they arrived. Mahelt stared round at the sight of the horses and carts. 'Hebon!' she cried, seeing Hugh's black courser tethered to a ring in the wall where a groom was rubbing him down. The Earl's big chestnut was there too, and the mounts belonging to various knights and squires. Without waiting for her groom's assistance, Mahelt flung down from her mare and sped towards the hall in an unfettered way that made Ida shake her head ruefully, but smile despite herself.

Hugh was just emerging and Mahelt almost bounced off him. He caught her and steadied her before picking her up and swinging her round. Mahelt flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hugh laughed, hugged her close, then held her at arm's length to look her up and down.

'We've been at Ipswich,' Mahelt said. 'We didn't think you'd be back for another week at least.'

Hugh's smile quenched a little. 'We felt it was time to come home,' he replied and went to kiss his mother and clasp his brother's shoulder. The Earl emerged from the hall on Hugh's heels, and Mahelt curtseyed to him with the decorum she had not shown when greeting Hugh.

'Daughter,' he said gruffly. 'I have letters in my baggage from your father.

He sends you his greeting and gifts - and bids you remember you are a Bigod wife now.'

His words dissolved Mahelt's propriety. 'You have seen my father?' she said eagerly. 'Is he well, my lord?'

The Earl's sea-grey gaze warmed slightly. 'Your father is well indeed. To set your mind at rest, let me tell you that the Irish matter has been resolved.

Your mother and your brothers and sisters are safe. Your father has agreed a new charter for Leinster with the King, and has returned there to deal with his affairs. Meilyr FitzHenry is to be replaced as justiciar of Ireland by the Bishop of Norwich.' He nodded to terminate the conversation and cast a meaningful look at the hectic courtyard. 'I shall not keep you from your duties.'

For the next several hours Mahelt and Ida were kept busy directing the servants and organising food, arranging sleeping spaces, unpacking essential baggage, and dealing with all the sundry tasks that accompanied the return of two households. Finally, order secured out of chaos, Mahelt took a moment to sit in the garden below the west wall and read the letter from her father. The words, penned by his scribe, were reassuring. He was well and there was no cause for her to worry. There was neither censure nor reference to the incident with her brother, although he did bid her cleave to her husband and obey her father-in-law. Mahelt's brow puckered at that and she wondered what had been said at court. He had sent her a small casket of jewels: a silver Irish brooch, gold finger rings and wimple pins, and silver pendants for her mare's breast-band. He loved her; he wished her well.

Mahelt squeezed her eyes shut but still, hot tears trickled down her face.

Hearing a sound, she turned swiftly and saw Hugh walking towards her with Tripes snuffling at his heels. She hastily wiped her eyes on the hem of her sleeve.

'Tears?' Hugh looked concerned.

'I am just glad my father is all right,' she said, sniffing. 'He sent me these.'

She showed him the contents of the casket. 'He says he is well.'

'He is.' Hugh sat down beside her.

'I wish I could have seen him for myself.'

'Doubtless you will once his business in Ireland is in hand. He had to return immediately to set all to rights.'

She nodded. 'I know he is needed there.' She tried not to sound disappointed. 'Perhaps John will leave him alone now.'

Hugh hesitated and then said, 'The danger is not over yet. The King is replacing Meilyr FitzHenry with John de Grey and he is more than able, and a loyal king's man. Your father and de Grey are on good terms, but there will be no quarter given in the matter of John's rights.' Hugh crossed his leg over his thigh and toyed with the leather lacing on his boot. Tripes flopped down, nose between paws, and heaved a sigh. 'I also suspect de Grey is going to Ireland to avoid pronouncing the interdict on the King.'

Mention of the interdict reminded Mahelt of the scene on the road at Kettleburgh and she told Hugh about it now. 'It mustn't happen to Michael,'

she said vehemently. 'I don't want them to throw Wengeva and her children into prison and we can hardly hide them like rolls of cloth or silver candlesticks.'

Hugh touched her arm. 'I've already spoken to Michael. He will continue to perform our services in the chapel and all are welcome to attend, which means there will be no conflict and no need for the King's agents to come visiting.'

'But will he not be disobeying his bishop and the Pope?'

Hugh shrugged. 'Since the Bishop of Norwich is going to be very busy in Ireland, neither he nor his officials will be checking on every priest and chaplain in the diocese. And the Pope is in Rome. Michael is sensible enough not to bite the hand that protects his woman and children. There will be no change here.' He leaned to kiss her in reassurance. Mahelt kissed him back, melting into him. She had missed him so much.

Delicately, he removed her head covering and stroked her burnished dark braids, murmuring how beautiful they were. Then abruptly he stopped and drew back. Following his gaze, Mahelt saw that his father was watching them from the wall walk. She couldn't see his expression, but knew it would be censorious. Feeling uncomfortable at having been observed, she hastily bundled her hair back inside her undercap and covered it with her veil. Hugh gently rearranged the latter so it was straight and set the pins in neatly.