The Conqueror (42 page)

She stood drooping before him; he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks, but his face did not soften. Dame Gytha would have taken her niece in her arms, but his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, and jerked her roughly back. ‘Stand away from her!’ he commanded.

Elfrida said: ‘Have pity, Raoul! I have borne so much. Oh, you cannot be cruel now!’ She laid a timid hand upon his arm, but he did not move.

‘I have no pity,’ he said, ‘but only my love for you, which is more real than pity. Though Edgar lies dead we live on, and there is happiness within our grasp. You would spurn it, cloistering yourself. Well, I hold the deed that gives me Marwell in your right; if I am your foe, speak boldly, and tell me you love me not, and I will tear the deed, and be done with you, for though I might take you by force, I will not do it. I want no bride who comes to me against her will.’

Dame Gytha was flushed and indignant. ‘Tell him you hate all Normans, Elfrida! Give him your answer!’

‘I cannot. It is not true.’ Elfrida’s fingers twisted together. ‘I dare not say it.’

‘Are you afraid?’ Raoul said. ‘Or have you love for one Norman at least?’

She did not answer. He gave a short laugh, and swung round on his heel. ‘I see. You dare not say it, and you dare not come to me. Then fare you well: I have done.’

Her voice followed him, dazed, uncomprehending. ‘You are going?’ she said. ‘You are leaving me?’

‘Rest you, since you have no love for me you shall not see my face again,’ he answered.

‘That is right good hearing!’ Dame Gytha declared.

‘Raoul! Oh, Raoul, stay!’

The cry was faint, but it stopped him. He looked back. ‘Well?’

‘Do not leave me!’ Elfrida begged piteously. ‘I have lost everyone but you. Oh, Raoul, be kind to me! Only be kind to me!’

‘Elfrida, will you wed me?’

Her eyes searched his face, and saw it unyielding. She knew that he would go unless she answered, and she could not let him leave her. ‘I will wed you,’ she said helplessly. ‘I will do what you tell me. Only do not go away!’

He held out his arms. ‘Then come to me, my heart. I will never leave you.’

‘Elfrida, you shall not!’ Dame Gytha cried. ‘Are you wood-wild, girl?’

But Elfrida did not seem to hear her. Raoul had said: ‘Come to me, my heart,’ and in his eyes the old, dear smile comforted her grief. She went to him; neither aunt nor priest could stop her; and across the grave that lay between her hands clasped his. For a moment they stayed thus, looking down at the grave, then of her own accord Elfrida stepped over it into Raoul’s arms. They closed round her; she gave a deep sigh; and Raoul lifted her, and holding her against his heart carried her out of the dim chapel into the court, where the sun was shining.

Epilogue

(1066)

‘When the trumpet ceases to sound the sword is returned to the scabbard.’

Saxon inscription

Epilogue

There was snow in London, and thin icicles were hanging from the gutters of the roofs. Inside the Abbey the cold made men draw their mantles closely round them, and blow surreptitiously on benumbed fingers. The Archbishop of York’s hands shook a little; he was nervous, and spoke his office in a low troubled voice. He thought how the Duke had repelled Stigand, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and as he proceeded with the ritual he remembered Harold, whom Stigand had crowned in this Abbey less than a year before. It had all been so different then that it seemed like another life. The Archbishop could not forget how the spring sunlight had glinted on Harold’s golden head. It seemed strange, he thought, to place England’s Crown upon a head as dark as William’s.

The Duke had chosen Christmas Day for his coronation. The Abbey of St Peter at Westminster was full of people, both Norman and Saxon, and outside Norman troops formed a strong guard to protect the Duke from any attack that might be made by the populace. But it did not seem as though an attack would be made. London had withstood no long siege, but had come to terms with Duke William, after parleys, and deep discussion, and many journeyings to and fro by Ansgard, her intermediary. The Duke had shown great patience, but his huge army encircled the city, cutting her off from any help, so that although he treated Ansgard with courtesy, and attempted no assault on the walls, London knew that he held her in the hollow of his hand and would close that hand if she defied him. The gates were opened to him at last, and the Atheling delivered into his power. Edgar was only ten years old, and when Aldred of York and Wulfstan of Worcester had led him into William’s presence he had been frightened, and had held tightly to the Archbishop’s hand. But the Duke took him in his arms, and kissed him, and talked to him a little while of his Norman cousins, Robert, and Richard, and William, so that he soon lost his alarm, and went away with FitzOsbern, quite happy to exchange a Crown for the suckets that were promised him, and the companionship of the Duke’s sons.

Earls Edwine and Morkere were the first to render homage to William. Stigand came next, with sleek words, but the Duke was not the man to be won by these. He repelled the Archbishop from office, and chose Aldred to set the Crown upon his head.

His Holiness the Pope had declared for William. Aldred tried to keep that always in mind. As a Churchman he approved William’s claim, but the Saxon in him kept on reminding him that William was a Norman, and an invader.

Quite near to William Count Robert of Eu was standing. As he listened to Aldred’s Latin phrases it seemed to him that the years slid back and he stood again in a smoky hall in Falaise, looking down at a babe who clutched a sword-hilt in his tiny hands. An echo reached him from that far-off day: ‘William the Warrior!’ had said Count Robert of Normandy. But someone had whispered: ‘William the King.’ That must have been Herleva, thinking of the queer dream she had had. ‘And the tree stretched out its branches until both England and Normandy lay cowering in its shadow.’ He forgot how it ran. A beautiful woman Herleva had been, he thought. He wondered whether her spirit watched to-day, seeing her dream fulfilled. Someone had said: ‘William the Bastard.’ He tried to remember who could have said that, and suddenly the old Lord of Belesme’s face rose before him, and he remembered how Talvas had cursed the babe. Bastard, Warrior, King: thus William had been called when he lay in his cradle. Count Robert thought how they had laughed: he, and Edward who had also been a King, and Alfred whom Earl Godwine had murdered. It was a long time ago: it made him feel old to reckon up the years. Strange, he thought, that they should have laughed. But they had not known William then: he was only a bastard brat clutching at a sword-hilt.

The Archbishop was addressing the Saxons in their own tongue. Count Robert came back to the present with a jerk. The Archbishop asked if the people would have William to be their King? They shouted Yea; it sounded spontaneous enough, thought old Hugh de Gournay, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wondered how long it would be before the whole land accepted William, and whether there would be much fighting to be done. He looked at William, and noted with approval that the Duke held himself very straight, and stared directly before him. Well, he might be a bastard, thought De Gournay, but he would make a good King.

The Bishop of Coutances stepped forward, and spoke in Norman to the Duke’s own subjects. He asked if they were willing that their Duke should accept the Crown. They cried their consent, as the Saxons had done.

Am I really willing? thought Raoul, as the word left his lips. God knows! He saw William Malet frowning: he was not willing, but he gave his consent, of course. FitzOsbern was beaming with triumph; Giffard seemed pleased, and Tesson too. Néel looked rather grave; so did Grantmesnil: perhaps they remembered the prodigy at St Jaques, and Galet’s words.

Prayers followed the two declarations, more ritual. The Archbishop took the golden Crown between his hands, and held it above the Duke’s head, and the assembled people burst out into cheering.

The Bishop of London held the sacred oil. He moved towards Aldred, but hesitated all at once, and looked in a startled way towards the doors.

Something was happening outside the Abbey. Shouts were heard, the clash of steel, and a rallying call.

A voice cried: ‘Treachery, by God!’ and men rushed to the doors.

The Duke knelt on. Only by his sudden pallor, and the quick look he sent down the aisle did he betray himself.

For the first time in twenty years, thought Raoul, I have seen him afraid.

He too was afraid, but he did not move. He thought of Elfrida, who was lodged outside the City, and his mind began to grapple a desperate problem. If London has risen against us, how best can I reach to her? he thought.

The noise was growing louder; a smell of burning wood crept into the Abbey. ‘Spine of God, are we trapped?’ muttered the Count of Mortain in Raoul’s ear.

The Duke’s jaw was set hard; the Archbishop had broken off in the middle of the ritual, and stood trembling and aghast.

Men were struggling to get out of the Abbey to beat back the supposed assault. None of the Saxons remained, very few of the Normans. Up by the altar FitzOsbern stood his ground, Robert of Eu also, and De Gournay, and Mortain, and Raoul.

The Bishop of Bayeux, who had taken an impetuous step towards the door, caught the Duke’s eye, and recovered himself. He whispered something to the Archbishop. Aldred passed his tongue between his lips, and took the sacred oil from William of London.

In the deserted Abbey, with sounds of strife raging outside, William was anointed. He stretched out his hand to take the gospel-book. Aldred held out the Cross, it shook in his grasp. The Duke kissed it, kneeling, and swore the oath in a clear unfaltering voice. The Crown was set upon his head, the Sceptre placed in his hand. He stood up, and the heavy robes he wore brushed the stone pavement.

FitzOsbern cried out: ‘Hail, William, King of England!’ and the words echoed through the empty church.

The Duke’s eyes met Raoul’s; he made a faint sign with his head towards the door, and his brows lifted in a mute question.

Raoul slipped out of the Abbey. Several houses were blazing near at hand; the open place was crowded with people, but though there were signs of recent strife it seemed to have ended.

Raoul caught sight of Ralph de Toeni, and made his way towards him, and grasped his arm. ‘For God’s sake, what is it?’ he demanded.

De Toeni looked round. ‘Nothing. I thought the Londoners had planned an attack, did not you? But it was no such thing. Our men seem to have been at fault, but there is not much harm done: a few slain, but no more than a score, I think. From what I can understand, the guards thought the Saxons within the Abbey had set upon William when they heard the noise of our cheering, and they straightway fired the houses round, and fell on the people gathered here. Tesson and Néel stayed the riot. Holy God, Raoul, I will confess I was sore afraid! Did William leave the Abbey? Where is he?’

‘He is crowned King of England,’ Raoul said.

‘Crowned! And none there to see it done!’ De Toeni pushed a way through the uneasy crowd, calling out the tidings.

Raoul went back into the Abbey. The Duke was at his prayers, but presently he rose up, and a glance passed between him and Raoul of question and of answer.

The sound of cheering reached them from outside the Abbey. The Lord of Cingueliz came through the doorway, crying: ‘Long live the King!’ and the barons standing round William echoed the shout.

An old memory flitted through the Count of Eu’s head. He thought he could hear Duke Robert’s voice saying: ‘He is little, but he will grow.’ It was odd that he should remember that, for Robert had only been jesting, after all.

He looked at William again, wondering what thoughts were in his mind. But he could not tell: the King was staring straight ahead, his dark face inscrutable, and England’s Sceptre firm in his grasp.

The Conqueror

Publisher’s Reading Group Guide

1. At the beginning of the book Herlava, just before she gives birth, dreams of a tree that grows from her womb to stretch its branches over both Normandy and England. She then proclaims, “My son will be a King. He shall grasp and hold, and he shall rule over Normandy and England, even as the tree stretched out its branches.” How is William’s life affected by this vision, announced at his birth? Do you think that his life would have taken a different path without this announcement? In what way?

2. Not long out of boyhood, Raoul de Harcourt stops his older brother from terrorizing a peasant family on another man’s lands. When brought up before his father for this action, he declares that he is going to serve Duke William in the hopes of seeing a more lawful Normandy. In what ways did William fulfill Raoul’s hopes? In what ways did he let him down?

3. Raoul takes upon himself the position of William’s Watcher without, at first not mentioning it to the Duke and not looking for any reward for his service. In what ways is Raoul different from all the other men in William’s court? How does the guileless behavior serve him? Do you think that he would have been more successful had he been less honest or idealistic?

4. William goes to his suzerain, King Henry of France, for help when Guy of Burgundy attempts to kill William in his sleep. What does the King’s response and subsequent actions tell you about the King’s relationship to his vassals? About their relationship to him? Does it hurt William later to continue to consider Henry even after Henry attacks Normandy?

5. At Alencon the Duke, enraged by their insults of a group of men, calling him “byblow of Normandy” orders their hands and feet cut off when they are finally captured. Raoul is upset by this, saying that though the Duke is usually wise and merciful, acts like this cruelty are what will be remembered. What do you remember most about Duke William at the end of the book? How does history remember him?

6. Lanfranc, Prior of the Abbey of Herluin at Bec, turns out to be one of William’s most cunning advisors in matters of politics. What do you think of the involvement of clergymen of the time in politics? What advantages do they have? What disadvantages?

7. On page 106 Edgar reflects on the differences between Norman and English (Saxon) culture. Which do you consider to be the more civilized culture? Why?

8. Near the beginning of Edgar’s exile in Normandy he tells Raoul that the “little loves and hatreds” of men are nothing compared to the loyalty to one’s lord and country. Raoul counters, “But friendship may endure.” Do you have any loyalties in your life that would make you oppose a close friend? Would you react like Edgar or like Raoul in the face of such a conflict?

9. William and Matilda’s relationship has a very rocky and slightly violent beginning. Does her personality, and their marriage, serve to calm William or to encourage his hasty nature? What does William do that he might not have if he married someone else?

10. William’s military prowess is widely acknowledged. Gilbert d’Aufay says of William, “He has all manner of odd notions and plans, and they always seem to end just as he says they will, though everything else thinks them folly.” What “odd notions” is Gilbert referring to? In what ways did William revolutionize the way battles were fought?

11. Count Guy of Ponthieu says of Duke William, “If I had been so sure of myself as that man I believe I might have conquered the world.” What do you think of this statement?

12. Harold agrees to swear to hold the crown of England for William, but intends to betray his oath. William tricks Harold into swearing on the bones of a saint. Who do you side with on this issue? Who was more in the wrong? Why?

13. When William first proposes to invade and conquer England, many of his nobles vehemently protest his plans. How does William turn the mood of the crowd and build an enthusiastic army to invade England?

14. When William and Harold see the prodigy with two torsos on one set of legs, one of the torsos has died and Galet, the fool, predicts that the prodigy symbolizes Normandy and England, should William conquer England, with Normandy as the dead half. Many people close to William seem to believe this as well, yet William perseveres with his plans of conquest. Why does William do this? Does he not have the same fears or does the glory of being a King blind him to the potential consequences?

15. As William sails for England, Matilda begins to plan a great tapestry showing William’s adventures. This is the Bayeux tapestry, which can be viewed at www.bayeuxtapestry.org.uk. Looking at the tapestry, does it tell the same story that the author tells? What differences are there?

16. Harold refuses to let either of his brothers take his place leading his army against William’s invaders. Ultimately, this is Harold’s downfall as he is killed in battle. Do you think that William was right to say that he was a greater man than Harold because Harold was ruled by his heart and William by his head? When do William’s actions show more heart than head?

17. After the final battle Raoul finds Edgar dying. Edgar confirms that their friendship did last and commends his sister to Raoul’s care. Raoul wraps Edgar in his cloak and bids a monk send him home to Marwell. When Raoul travels to Marwell, Elfrida at first rejects him, saying he has blood on his hands because her brother came home wrapped in his cloak. In her place, how would you react? Would you be able to accept and forgive a person who had fought against your countrymen, your sibling?