The Bastard King (15 page)

He would marry and she whom he married must be a lady of high birth. That would be necessary for his son's sake. The child must be no bastard, nor must he be of merchant stock.

He talked to his mother. How she loved these cosy talks!

So he would marry. She had long wished for that. He would know the pleasures of the married state. She had long been amazed at the manner in which he dedicated himself to his duties. Now he should have some of the pleasures of life and the greatest of these was love, a home which was indeed a home whether it be castle or hut. He needed children – and most of all a son who would inherit his ducal crown.

‘There is Matilda of Flanders,' said his mother. ‘A lady of high rank, a princess no less. She is the one for you, William.'

‘Matilda of Flanders! She is the daughter of Baldwin of Flanders, of noble birth, and very marriageable I have heard.'

‘It is true,' said his mother. ‘Herlwin decided she would suit you long ago.'

‘Then, Mother, I will marry the lady.'

Arlette laughed.

‘You had better begin your courtship first and without delay.'

And as William hated to waste time and the more he thought of marriage the more he liked it, he decided to do just that.

IN THE TAPESTRY
chamber in the Castle of Lille two girls bent over their work. Expertly they plied their needles, holding back now and then to cast a critical eye over what they had done. They were both in their teens, and their costly gowns set them apart from their women attendants who were at the other end of the room, some sorting out skeins of silk, others working tapestry.

Matilda, the younger of the girls, was the more beautiful. Her flaxen hair was dressed in a long plait that had she been standing would have reached to her knees. This thick rope of hair was caught in a snood which twinkled with a few jewels and her long blue gown with the hanging sleeves became her well.

Her sister Judith was handsome too. They were proud girls because their father, the Count of Flanders, a gentle, kindly man who had the good of his subjects at heart, indulged them, and their mother was the sister of the reigning King of France.

The Count clearly regretted the fact that his girls were becoming marriageable and if a match were made for them this would mean their leaving home. It was not so much that he wanted to keep them with him for his own pleasure as that he feared that they, who had had such a happy home, might not find the same contentment away from it.

At this time there was an air of excitement throughout the castle because the Ambassador of Edward the Confessor had suggested a bridegroom for Judith, and Judith was the focus of attention at the moment.

Matilda laid aside her tapestry and said: ‘Shall you take him, Judith?'

It was an indication of the indulgence of their father that it should be a matter for Judith to decide.

Judith put her head on one side as though considering the matter.

‘They are very handsome, these Saxons.'

‘They have the clearest blue eyes I ever saw,' agreed Matilda.
She was thinking of the ambassador Brihtric Meaw who was called ‘Snow' because of his white skin, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. If Tostig were as handsome as Brihtric, then Judith should take him willingly.

‘There is a gentleness about them.'

‘Gentleness. Your future father-in-law must be far from that.'

‘We cannot expect them to be all alike.'

‘Then should you not learn more of Tostig?'

‘I would I could,' said Judith.

‘I would never marry a man I had not seen,' put in Matilda. She had always been the bold one, her father's favourite, the one he had delighted to indulge, who had amused him with her forthright opinions.

‘It is a long way to England.'

‘I should expect a man to woo me,' went on Matilda, ‘and if it were too far for him to come to me, then it would be too far for me to go to him.'

‘You are being childish.'

‘I am saying what I feel. Is it childish to speak one's mind?'

‘We are not village people whose marriages are of no concern to any but themselves.'

‘My marriage shall be of concern to no one but myself.'

‘What nonsense, Matilda. You know our marriages are arranged for us.'

Matilda smiled. She had never liked to be left out of anything and when marriage for Judith had been talked of she had immediately begun to think of it for herself. She had not had to look far. Her eyes had alighted on the beautiful form of Brihtric the Saxon. What grace! What beauty! Those blue, blue eyes! The gentle way he spoke! How harsh was the Flemish language compared with soft Saxon. She had decided she would like to learn Saxon and speak it all the time. She would like to go to Brihtric and tell him that she had chosen him and that he would no longer be a plain ambassador for she, the Princess, had chosen to marry him. He would be transformed into a Prince and her father would give him estates. Her heart swelled with love for her beautiful Saxon.
Poor Judith who had been offered Tostig – the son of the Earl of Godwin. She was sorry for her, for no one could be as handsome as Brihtric.

‘Tostig,' she said. ‘The son of a man who was a cowherd!'

‘The Earl of Godwin is the most powerful man in England,' cried Judith indignantly. ‘It is for this reason that his son is offered to me.'

‘A cowherd's son!'

‘How clever he must be.'

‘Clever men often have foolish sons.'

‘You are jealous, Matilda, because there is no husband for you.'

That made Matilda laugh. ‘Never fear, Judith, I shall choose my husband. I admit I should like to go to England.'

‘It is a country which people used to speak of a great deal. Now that it is ruled by the saintly Edward and all is peaceful there, we hear less of it.'

‘I do not like what I hear of Edward. He must be rather a tiresome man I think. Imagine. He is married but the marriage has never been consummated. I wonder what Queen Editha feels about that?'

‘Perhaps it is her wish.'

‘Perhaps so, since she has such a husband.'

‘He is a saint, they say.'

‘Who wants a saint for a husband? I want a strong man, a man who will think he commands me. And I shall allow him to believe in that deception. I intend to have my way.'

‘Because you have with Father do you think you will with a husband?'

‘I think I shall,' smiled Matilda.

She was thinking of Brihtric. He was hardly the kind of man she had described. He was gentle, poetic, a true Saxon; yet there was a set to his jaw which told her that he could be a very determined man.

How beautiful you are, Brihtric, she thought. And how your blue eyes will shine when I tell you that I have decided to marry you!

She picked up a blue skein and began to stitch with it. It
was the colour of his eyes; and his skin was white as snow. My dearest Snow, how happy you are going to be.

She would say to him: ‘My dearest Brihtric, I have chosen you.' And he would reply: ‘How I long to marry you but you are a Princess of Flanders and I am a humble servant of my King.' She would reassure him: ‘I shall marry whom I wish. You may leave this to me. I will speak to my father.'

‘What are you smiling at?' demanded Judith.

‘I was thinking that if you marry this Tostig and I marry into England too, we shall not be parted.'

‘I should like that, Matilda.'

‘So should I,' said Matilda.

The Count of Flanders and his wife came in to see how the tapestry was progressing. Gracious Adelais, the Count's wife, never forgot that she was the daughter of a King of France; her husband Baldwin was proud of her; he was an indulgent husband as well as father and as he possessed many virtues and in spite of his gentle and kindly nature he was a good and just ruler, his country was almost as contented as his family.

Matilda's skill with her needle was something to be proud of. It was renowned throughout Flanders and beyond it seemed. It added to Matilda's marriageability, for not only was she most highly born but particularly skilled in an art which was generally accepted to be an asset in a wife.

Matilda would record events in her tapestry. She had completed a work which proclaimed her ancestry. Baldwin and Adelais never tired of showing it to their visitors.

Matilda was descended not only from the royal house of France through her mother, but King Alfred the Great was also an ancestor of hers for his daughter Elstrith had married Baldwin II of Flanders. This wonderful work depicted the marriages of her family and how lovingly Adelais' eyes always dwelt on that portion which showed her bringing in the golden lilies of France.

There was also a connection with Normandy, for Eleanor of Normandy, Matilda's grandmother, was the aunt of the reigning Duke William.

Producing such a tapestry had increased Matilda's pride in her birth as well as bringing her some fame as one of the most clever and prolific needlewomen in Europe. Adelais had said it would be very easy to find a very suitable husband for their daughter Matilda. The parents admired the work and Adelais went to the wall on which hung that family tapestry. Baldwin laid his hand on Matilda's shoulder.

‘It is beautiful, daughter. What a fine mingling of the blue and the white.'

Matilda smiled happily.

‘If Judith leaves us shall you be able to finish it alone?' asked Baldwin.

‘I shall not be going yet, Father,' said Judith.

‘Not for a long time, I hope, my love,' Baldwin assured her.

‘We must work hard,' added Matilda, ‘for it may be my turn before long.'

‘It will come I doubt not,' said the Count. ‘And now, Judith, I wish you to come with me and your mother. I have something I wish to say to you.'

Judith rose with alacrity.

She will marry Tostig, thought Matilda, and she will go to England and then it will be my turn.

She went on stitching at her tapestry, taking special delight in that beautiful shade of blue which was just the colour of Brihtric's eyes.

Looking from a window she saw him crossing the courtyard.

She called to him, ‘Brihtric; a merry good day to you.'

He looked up at her; the sun touched his fair hair making it almost lint white; he bowed his head in acknowledgement of a Princess's greetings.

‘You have never seen my tapestry, Brihtric,' she said.

‘It is a pleasure I hope to enjoy one day.'

‘Why not this day?' she asked.

‘My lady, I have business with the Count.'

‘Will you refuse my invitation, Sir Brihtric?'

‘Has your father given you permission to ask me, my lady?'

She tossed her head. Did he not know that she was considered somewhat wilful in the household? Did he not know that she acted as she wished and if her acts were not approved she smiled mischievously at her father and was forgiven.

Evidently he did not for he considered it not in accordance with the behaviour required of an ambassador to visit a Count's daughter at her request.

She would show him otherwise.

‘Brihtric, I insist that you come and see my tapestry.'

He hesitated. How beautiful he was when he was uncertain.

‘Come now,' she said.

He turned towards the door. He was coming. She glared at the attendants who were huddled together in a corner of the room, like crows she thought. She wanted to dismiss them, but perhaps that was going too far. They were looking shocked. What would the Lady Matilda do next, they were pondering in their silly old heads. They should know by now that the Lady Matilda did what she wished no matter how strange people might think it.

At the door stood her beautiful Saxon.

‘Enter Brihtric Meaw,' she said. ‘I hear they call you Snow because you are so fair.'

He bowed. He was so gracious; his voice was like music; she loved to hear him say ‘my lady Matilda'.

‘Come, my lord, and see the tapestry which has been admired by many. I shall be pleased indeed if you add your admiration to it.'

‘I believe I could not fail to do that . . . when I recall what I have heard of your talents.'

‘Then come and see for yourself.' She took his hand. Oh, you old crows, why are you there watching? Like vultures waiting for the death of virtue! I would it could be so. But how cautious was the Saxon! He was as amazed at her behaviour as were the crows.

She led him to the wall. ‘There you see my noble ancestry.'

‘It is indeed impressive.'

‘Here is your King Alfred whom you call the Great. You see
I have his blood in my veins, so I am partly Saxon.'

‘That is why you are so kind to us.'

‘I have a fondness for Saxons. There is so much I admire in them. And I like well to hear of your country. It is enjoying a period of peace now, I believe.'

‘It has long been awaited and hoped for.'

‘And now under your saint of a King you are all content.'

‘The King is indeed a saint.'

‘I know. He is called the Confessor as you are called Snow. Does it describe him as your name describes you?'

‘He is indeed of a saintly disposition.'

‘I hear his poor wife is not allowed to live with him.'

‘My King is not a man to break his vows.'

‘Even though he has a beautiful wife? Is she beautiful?'

‘She is beautiful.'

‘Are all Saxons beautiful?' Her voice and her eyes caressed him and he shifted uneasily.

‘No, my lady,' he said.

She laughed at him. ‘I could find it in my heart to disagree with you.'

He turned back to the tapestry. ‘It is most exquisitely worked.'

‘So you add your praise to others.'

‘Whole-heartedly.'

‘I treasure your Saxon praise. Look, here is the marriage of my grandfather with the sister of Robert of Normandy. So you see I have Saxon blood and Norman blood, Flemish and French. A fine mixture, do you think?'