Ann of Cambray (51 page)

‘They were gift of your grandfather to mine,’ Raoul said. ‘And he held them of no man save the king.’

‘You have not those titles that once he held . . .’

‘My lord King, my lord King.’ A small dapper man was on his feet. I would know him later, not then.

‘Stephen would have granted Lord Raoul all the rights and titles of Sedgemont. On his deathbed did he offer them . . .’ Raoul made no sign of recognition towards the man who spoke, de Luci it was, earnest to uphold what he knew to be true. Just as he had made no movement to acknowledge Geoffrey or his men, or me.

‘Refused them, why?’

‘Because,’ Raoul said as simply as before, ‘it was a deathbed gift. I would not use it to protect myself.’

They faced each other again, at the far end of the dais, away from the four prisoners at the other. Henry’s face had smoothed, the high colour faded, but the skin was still mottled as if with heat or cold.

‘What should you accept from anyone,’ he said, almost softly, almost wondering, ‘that you would accept freely as gift?’

‘My lord,’ Raoul said, standing still, ‘you have seen for yourself what needs to be done in this land. You have gone north and east already. What you have seen there is repeated south and west. You knew the western marches when you were a boy. Go there again and see what war has done to them. You will need Sedgemont and Cambray, even Maneth castle, if you are to bring order to the western lands at last.’ 

‘A strong rule will do it,’ Henry cried. ‘No man will move against me then.’

‘The king is but one man,’ said Raoul, ‘he cannot be everywhere at once. He needs strong men to help him.’

The two pairs of eyes looked at each other, both dark and stormy, both stubborn, like two oaks wedged against each other, neither able to shift.

Henry began his pacing again, up and down. His voice was lower now, under control. They seemed to be speaking of military matters; I could see how Henry jabbed with his finger as he questioned, how Raoul gestured with his left hand as he replied, up and down, until gradually the tension in the Hall began to slacken. I felt, rather than heard, someone draw breath.

So this also was Henry of Anjou, heir to the Angevin hate and temper. King or not, I thought suddenly, I would not be bound to such a man.

Behind me, Eleanor took deep, quick gasps, as if she would faint for lack of air.

‘Marriage,’ I heard her say, ‘you think perhaps it solves everything. I tell you, Lady Ann, it is only the beginning for us. Without marriage, we cannot survive, not you in your little honour of Cambray, not I in my great duchy of Aquitaine. Men will come hounding us for what we have. Long will it be before they accept us for what we are, not only as images of their power and lust. But since marriage is all we have, we are fortunate to value it for some things. I think you may be more fortunate than most. Is that your choice?’ 

When I was able to nod, ‘Then,’ she said, ‘that is a thing I can help with.’

She raised her voice, using the tone she had spoken to the king when she bade him not play with the forks or break the hinges of her box.

‘My lord King,’ she said, ‘the Lord of Sedgemont,’ she stressed the words slightly, ‘is new recovered of his wounds. You risk his well-being to keep him on his feet and march him up and down as on parade.’ And indeed, it was clear to me that Raoul kept himself upright by effort of will alone.

‘By the Mass,’ Henry cried, ‘I had near forgot. A fight to the death, was it not, a Judgment of God. Who are we, as God’s anointed, to stand against His choice? But, Raoul, you have had other friends, less heavenly, crowing your praises here at court. Less heavenly I say, although that depends upon the point of view. Your ward, the Lady Ann, I think is from the castle of Cambray?’

Raoul made no reply but I noted how the pulse in his cheek beat at the mention of my name. It was a warning, and my heart sank.

‘Cosseted with my lady wife,’ Henry said, ‘a beauty, if I be a judge of that. No doubt you come to claim her back.’

‘No doubt.’

‘So would I if she were my ward,’ Henry said. ‘But I hope you bring a strap. I know these border wenches, having cut my teeth,’ except he used a coarser phrase, ‘upon them. A well-set-up wench, I think, and fit for breeding, they tell us . . .’

He slapped Raoul upon the shoulder, seeming not to notice the stab of pain it caused. ‘Well, if you would have her that would be a gift from me. Suppose, my lord, I grant you your title as earl as once your grandfather held, as Stephen would have given it... I have noticed, my lord, that the local soldiery fight better than hired mercenaries, and command sits better with local lords than those hired from afar. Suppose you take the old command back as Stephen gave it to you . . .’

‘Then I should be your man,’ Raoul said slowly.

‘Ah,’ Henry said, ‘we hold you to that.’ He laughed. ‘Why,’ he said, ‘I too can count the times since first I asked you to submit to me.’

‘You were a child,’ Raoul said slowly, holding to each word as to a support. ‘It is forgotten quite.’

‘But I remember,’ Henry said, a smile with no mirth to it on his face. It was as if he rent his own flesh as he spoke. ‘You tossed me to a thorn bush that time, was it not so? And then again at Rouen before my retinue ... I watched how you leapt upon your horse after; full armed, you vaulted into the saddle. I learned that trick of you. At my knighting two years later in Scotland, I vaulted as far. I still can leap astride,’ he boasted with all the youth of his twenty-one years. ‘And you, Raoul, can you?’

Beneath the weight of his twenty-six, his wounds, Raoul said, ‘I could, my lord King. I may again.’

‘Ah, yes, if your arm heals straight.’ He slapped Raoul upon his shoulder again, a bluff hearty blow, one comrade to another, but the blow fell on the right side. ‘Come, man, you fight as well left-handed. Even with one arm disabled, you will guard that frontier still for me. So have we then resolved our mutual affairs. I shall give you title to Sedgemont and Cambray as before. And Maneth to boot. Take your ward back. Except . . .’ And here a malicious glint crept back, the sliver of the claw that kept us all, his queenly wife most of all, on edge. ‘Except that in return for her and all these other gifts, you shall wed her to bind the estates together. How’s that, my lords,’ he shouted, ‘Raoul the Double-Handed to wed.’ And he guffawed, a large laugh that made him seem older than his years, and slapped Raoul again upon the right shoulder. ‘How then, with wife and lands and titles, yea, even those in France you once had, shall you kneel to me as king?’

Raoul’s face was as dark as before it had been pale.

‘I shall . . .’ he said, then folded like a tree cut at the bole and crashed to the floor at Henry’s feet.

There was a scream; all the women stood and cried about. Men came running. Geoffrey pushed past the startled guards, shuffling forward to kneel beside Lord Raoul, bellowing at them for clumsy oafs.

‘By the Holy Mass,’ Henry swore, a forgotten hulk in the clamour,’ I did but lean upon him in jest. What ails him then?’

His queen had come to stand beside him, soothing him as one might a child.

‘You smote him thrice upon an open wound,’ she said. ‘You are too strong. You forget other men are made to suffer and bleed, although you feel nought.’

‘I have never seen Raoul laid low before,’ he said, suddenly chastened. ‘As God is my witness, you did not think I wished to harm him here in my own Hall before my queen?’ 

‘Still less in his own, or anywhere else without due process,’ she said smoothly. ‘I am as sure of that, my lord King, as I am of your goodness towards us all. Call him surgeons. Have them carry him forth. Come, Henry, sit and share of the warmth of Provence with me again. I will sing you new songs, and if you will not drink my southern wine, then I will fill you with its pleasures in other ways.’

She turned back as if to take her place, as if all that had passed had never been. I felt a coldness strike me at the indifference, shall I call it, the disinterest in her voice. But when she turned her head to me as she passed, I could see the lines of strain beneath her eyes and bright smile. She looked older than I had ever guessed.

‘Why do you linger?’ she snapped at me. ‘What are you about, wench, to linger here? See to your lord.’

I had stood as if numbed while they carried him off, while they freed the Sedgemont guard, while a mass of people drifted back and forth, overstimulated, excited by what had occurred. The king still waited at one side, with his courtiers; the queen stood with hers. I noted suddenly how Henry had surrounded himself with short men. Not tall himself, he was a head above those who stood by him: Sir Gautier, de Luci. Only his new chancellor was taller than he was. And he one day would be killed by the king he served . . .

‘Lady,’ said Henry softly to me as I would have slipped past. ‘You owe me a favour. I have done you one.’

I felt the full force of his personality blaze at me. I saw Sir Gautier turn aside. What had he warned me?

He will listen and promise and have you repay him.

I said quickly, ‘but I have already repaid you, my lord King.’

‘How so?’ he said, his prominent eyes narrowing, undressing me as I stood.

‘There are four grey horses in your stables,’ I said. ‘Remember, you spoke of them before.’

He was taken aback by my answer. At last reluctantly, ‘Yes, I remember.’ He stared at me. Well, he had put shame on me before his court, assessing me in terms of the coarsest kind, making me a sport for their laughter, to strike at Raoul.

‘Then are you a witch,’ he said as softly, as if to me alone, ‘to foretell the rise of the Earl of Sedgemont. It is an earl’s gift.’ I heard beneath his jest the glint of threat, saw the malicious grin that made one wonder if he enacted all this; but played, to keep us in suspense, to bat us back and forth to his fancy.

‘Then shall I ride one of my new gifts,’ he said, ‘when I go hunting in the morning.’

‘They are but half-broken, my lord King,’ I said, suddenly worried that he might come to grief through negligence of mine.

‘So much the better,’ he said. ‘I straddle half-broken fillies better than most.’

And again he gave his coarse, older laugh, that made the words take on their most lewd meaning.

I gave him a sketchy curtsy, and addressed my words between him and the queen, who gave no sign that she had heard what he said.

‘My lord King,’ I said, ‘my lady Queen, by your great mercy have you restored Lord Raoul. But I beg of you, put not the burden of marriage upon me. He may not requite it.’

‘The more fool he,’ the king said. ‘It is your duty to persuade him to our command.’

‘I am no man’s plaything, my lord,’ I said, and sensed a ripple of dismay, shock, that stirred those waiting courtiers. But Henry kept his claws sheathed.

‘Yea,’ he said, ‘you and he should be fit match for each other.’

‘You wanted as much.’ The queen’s voice had grown hoarse. I should heed her warning. But spoke she to me or to him?

‘It is too late now to turn back on what you have,’ she said. ‘The choice is made!’

‘You see?’ It was the young Henry who was speaking now, the boy king. ‘The queen has bidden us and she knows more of love’s tricks than I shall care to remember. Her word is law in the courts of love.’

He put out his hand, gallant as any noble there, to lead her forward. She laid hers upon us, a handsome royal couple, such as England or the world has not seen since, as good a match for each other as any. But the smile he gave me in passing was older, wiser, threatening. ‘And one day,’ it said, ‘I shall be first there, as in all things else .. .’

They went on together, their courtiers falling in behind them. Even Sir Gautier and Sir Renier passed without comment. I shrugged my way into the cloak that Cecile held, and took to my heels out of the Great Hall at Bermondsey, running to find Raoul.

We found where he was soon enough. Geoffrey and the others stood at the door. While Cecile and I wiped the dirt and blood from Geoffrey’s face, he told us all he could, croaked it out, for the spear shafts that had scored marks across his chest and throat made talking painful at first. Lord Raoul had been as a madman, he said, when he found that his plan for my escape from Sedgemont had not been carried through, had been used instead for him. They had tried to keep this knowledge from him as long as they could until at least he had recovered enough to be fully conscious where he was. By then, we had been long away from Sedgemont. Twice before had he tried to leave the forest; the first time he had reached the entrance of the hut before collapsing; the second, he had turned back himself, seeing that he could not manage his horse. Then had he lain back upon his bed silently, sternly nursing his strength, willing it to return, raging inwardly at his weakness as at a secret humiliation. The third time, he had not told anyone where he was going, although it was clear to them all what his destination would be. On pain of death had he forbidden any to follow him. The others waited still at the forest edge. Geoffrey, braving his anger, had ridden behind him, not so close as to be seen, not so far away as to be out of reach. Realising that Raoul meant to ride into the city openly, Geoffrey had spurred forward in one last attempt to turn Raoul back.

‘But he rode me over,’ he whispered. ‘I would have argued with him but he gave me such a buffet as to knock me from my saddle. With his left arm no less. So I must stagger behind him and come too late to Bermondsey, not knowing then that the court had removed itself here. But not so late after all.’ He tried to smile. ‘By the Mass, Lady Ann, I think we are successful in the end, although how the thing was done is past my understanding. But this is a great day for Sedgemont. To have an earl at last. Hey, you louts.’ He turned to the other three men. ‘We shall ride out in red and gold again. Then let those French scum look to their laurels. The Sedgemont guard will outshine them. And outride them too.’

They grinned, slapping each other on the back, drinking mightily as the household pages brought them wine and beer, nothing too good now for an earl’s followers. I left them with Cecile crooning over Geoffrey’s bruises. My part began here.