The Devil's Diadem (42 page)

‘I am afraid so, my lord,’ I said ruefully. ‘It took her but a few brief moments to learn to hate me, and I do not want to anger her further by visiting her again.’

‘You took nothing to her, nor carried anything hence?’

‘No, my lord king, I was most careful.’

‘Good, but it is best if you speak of this to no one.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

The third incident still leaves me, after all these years, shaking in fear.

I had woken in the middle of the night and could not get back to sleep. The weight of the child was bothering me, I had a deep ache in my head and my legs cramped continuously. I decided to rise and walk a little, perhaps go down to the chapel and pray, and then return to bed to see if I could find some sleep before dawn.

I slid out of bed, shivering in the cool night, and slipped into a warm, loose robe. I opened the door, walking into the chamber beyond mine. Here slept always one of the household’s servants, and a candle always kept burning.

I used the candle to light another, my slight noise rousing the servant from his sleep.

‘I am just going down to the chapel,’ I said. ‘I am well, but cannot sleep. Stay where you are.’

He nodded, fell back to his bed, and was asleep again almost instantly.

I moved as silently as I could through the house. It was very quiet, although there was soft noise coming from the hall where a couple of the knights or squires who slept there must have been talking softly. I crept past the entrance to the hall and down the tight circular stairs to the crypt beneath the house, where lay the chapel.

As I padded down the steps I thought I heard a slight noise from the chapel, but thought little of it. It might have been someone else visiting the chapel at night, it might have been a rat … it might have been the result of any number of innocent actions. I simply did not think for a moment it might be something malevolent.

Vicious.

I reached the last step into the crypt and then turned to my left toward the part that was used as a chapel.

And stopped dead, so terrified I could not move, nor utter a sound.

The candles were burning in the chapel and I could see clearly.

An imp from hell, standing with his back to me, pissing against the altar, whistling some devilish tune softly through his snout.

I knew what it was instantly, for it was a perfect brother to the one I had seen in the palace in Oxeneford. It had the same lumpish body, the same forked, snaking tail, the same thin, stick-like limbs.

And, as it turned at the slight sound I had made as I gasped in horror, the same round, pig-snouted, sharp-toothed visage.

It hissed when it saw me, then it shook its cock free of dribbles, and turned to face me fully.

‘The master’s bitch,’ it said, its forked tongue glistening as it slipped in and out of its mouth during speech. I backed against the wall in horror. I wanted to flee, but for the moment my limbs were frozen and I could not move.

The imp took a step toward me. ‘Bitch,’ it said again. ‘Hell awaits all murderers!’

Terrified, sure it was going to drag me down to hell then and there, I finally rediscovered my capacity for movement and, throwing the candle at the horror, I turned into the stairwell and scrambled up, screaming for aid.

Men came tumbling out of the hall.

‘My lady! My lady! What is it?’

‘The chapel,’ I managed to say. ‘The chapel!’

Half a dozen men piled down the stairs. I could hear them below, searching and shouting.

Eventually, several of them returned.

‘There is nothing, my lady,’ one said, ‘except a terrible odour.’

I felt coldness seep through me. As soon as the man had mentioned it, I remembered that I, too, had smelled the stink as the imp stepped toward me.

It was the same stink I’d smelled in my chamber the night I’d woken thinking there was someone in the chamber.

There
had
been someone in the chamber with me.

The imp. Snuffling through one of my chests.

I bent over, and was sick.

I told no one of what I had seen. I remembered how Raife had asked me not to speak of the imp that we’d seen in Edmond’s palace in Oxeneford, and so I held my silence this time, too.

I did not wonder why the imp had called me ‘the master’s bitch’. All I could think of was that it had promised me hell for what I had done.

For the rest of that night I had Evelyn sleep with me in my bed.

Chapter Nine

R
aife arrived the next day in the late morning. There was much clattering of horses’ hooves in the courtyard, and men and dogs milling about, and I tried not to rush down the stairs to reach him. He smiled as soon as he saw me — a wide genuine smile — and I thought I’d never been so glad to see anyone in my life as I was to see Raife.

He came over, clasped my shoulders, and kissed me soundly. ‘How do you, wife?’

‘I do well, my lord,’ I said, wanting only to speak to him privately. ‘Perhaps —’

‘The child?’

‘The child does well, too, my lord. Can we —’

But Raife had turned away and was shouting at one of the grooms to take care of his courser.

It seemed to take half my life for my husband to escape the clamour of the courtyard, traverse the hall (where countless squires, knights and sundry nobles seemed to want his attention), up the stairwell and into our private apartments. There I had to engineer the departure of Charles, Isouda and Evelyn and fitzErfast as well as a small boy who seemed to be scrambling about directionless.

But, finally, I had Raife alone.

He came over, smiling, kissed me, and laid a hand on my belly. ‘The child has grown handsomely in my absence, I see by the size of your belly.’

‘Raife —’

He kissed me once more, deeply and passionately, and I realised he had missed me perhaps as much as I had missed him.

I pulled my face away. ‘Raife, twice while you were gone an imp has been here.’

His face went white. Both his hands gripped my upper arms. ‘
What ?
’

‘Once I woke and the vile thing was snuffling about my belongings, and last night,’ my voice was rising into hysteria but I could not help it, ‘I went to the chapel late and one was pissing on the altar. Sweet Jesu, Raife! What is happening?’

Raife just stared at me. I think he was so shocked that he could not say anything for the moment.

‘They were just like the imp we saw in the palace at Oxeneford.’ I had not actually
seen
the one in my chamber at night, but I was not going to split hairs over the issue. It
had
been an imp.

Now I burst into tears — I was still terrified from the previous night. ‘What is happening, Raife? Why are they in our house? Do they follow Edmond?’

He gave me an odd look at that, but quickly replaced it with one of concern, then held me tightly in his arms.

‘It is Hallow’s Eve today,’ he said. ‘Perhaps the gates between hell and our world have opened. I will have a priest reconsecrate the chapel, and bless this chamber. That will keep them at bay.’

He leaned back, looking me in the face and using one hand to wipe away my tears. ‘These are bleak times indeed, Maeb, if imps scramble about unhindered. Maybe it is simply because of All Hallow’s Eve when the borderlands thin between our world and that of the dead. Perhaps the imps are here to spread plague … we need to take care and keep good watch.’

They might be here to spread plague? Jesu!

‘I did not tell anyone about the imps. Not even Isouda or Evelyn.’

Relief suffused his face. ‘You are a true wife to me, Maeb.’ He kissed me, then hugged me tight to him once more. ‘It is best if we keep this to ourselves as we did the other imp. In this court, who knows how it could be used against us? Oh Maeb, I won’t leave you again, I swear.’

‘Raife, it said … it said that I would go to hell for what I’d done to … to …’

‘Shush, shush. It said that only to torment you. Has not Owain taken your confession? Have you not done penance? Perhaps, to be certain, we can donate some gold to Holy Trinity Priory in your name. What more can we do? Maeb, do not worry on it. You will not go to hell. You will
not
.’

I hugged him tight, allowing him to reassure me. ‘It
stank
, Raife!’

‘I know, sweetheart, I know,’ he murmured into my hair, and then he kissed the crown of my head, and rocked me back and forth.

‘Dear sweet God,’ I thought I heard him whisper. ‘What did it want, if I were not here?’

‘Raife?’

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I will keep you safe. From everything. Trust me.’

We had thought to spend a quiet day. Raife had been riding hard to get home and I wanted to compose myself after the previous night. But in the afternoon, just as we were about to go to the hall to dine, the Earl of Pembroke, Gilbert de Clare, arrived and asked to speak with us privately in our chamber.

I thought perhaps he wanted to speak with Raife, and so spoke to excuse myself, but Pembroke waved me to sit as well.

‘Fulke d’Ecouis has reappeared in London,’ he said without preamble. ‘I saw him riding toward the Templar church in High Holborn earlier today.’ He paused. ‘I have been informed, very privately, that he has been in Witenie these past weeks.’

Pembroke looked at me and I felt a flush of guilt redden my cheeks even though I had nothing to be guilty of so far as Witenie and my father were concerned.

‘The village where I was born?’ I said. ‘By all the saints, Gilbert, what was he doing there?’

‘Making enquiries about your father, Maeb,’ Pembroke said. ‘And about you. It is said he begged hospitality at the house once owned by your father … the Templars had leased it to a knight from Oxeneford.’

‘And no doubt d’Ecouis searched it from top to bottom,’ I said. ‘I have
no
idea what he wants of me!’

Pembroke looked enquiringly at Raife, who told him briefly of the conversation Henry and d’Ecouis had had with me and of the manner in which they had frightened me.

‘They seem convinced that my father had stolen from the Templars,’ I said, ‘and that I now have whatever it was they imagine my father took. Gilbert, I cannot speak for what my father may or may not have done while within the Order at Jerusalem, but if he did steal — which I dispute, for my father did not have that within him — then he did not hand the booty to me. I received nothing from him save his name and the clothes on my back. Rags and a bloodline. Nothing else.’

Pembroke sighed. ‘It is hard to know what the Templars want,’ he said. ‘Their Order has grown extraordinarily since it was founded a few years ago. They answer to no one save the Pope. Even Edmond has no power over them. They come and go as they want, collecting ever more wealth and land as each year passes. They hold their secrets close, more so than most clergy.’

When Pembroke had gone, refusing politely an offer to dine with us, Raife asked me if there was anything my father could have given me that the Templars might covet.

‘They seem to want gold and jewels,’ I said. ‘My father had
no
gold and jewels. No precious objects. Raife, when I say he left me nothing but rags, then rags was all he left me.’

When we retired that night, we lit the chamber with candles. We would sleep among light, lest the spirits and demons use the darkness of Hallow’s Eve to slide across the divide from their world to ours.

The light cheered us, and I discovered what pleasure it could be to make love with my husband amid the flickering shadows of the candles.

Part Five
Christmastide

Chapter One

R
aife had hurried home for what Edmond liked to call his Advent court, some ten days of celebration, hunting, feasting and games before the commencement of Advent on Martinmas. Advent, the weeks leading up to Christmastide, was a quiet time of reflection before the celebration, feasting and fun of the Christmastide court. Edmond, renowned for his hospitality and the cheer and festivity of his Advent and Christmastide courts, expected all of his leading nobles to attend both celebrations.

Today, Hallowmas, was the first day of Advent court. Raife was tired from his hard ride back to London, I was fatigued from the events of the past two days, but nonetheless we rose before dawn, dressed and, without breaking our fast, left the house just as the eastern sky was lightening to ride for the Conqueror’s Tower. Many of the household came with us: Raife’s valet, Charles; Isouda and Evelyn; fitzErfast; many of the knights and squires of Raife’s court; grooms, pages, soldiers, falconers, servants; Raife’s head huntsman Wulfsige; his Master of Horse, Ludo; Raife’s hunting dogs and his three gyrfalcons with their attendants.

To all intents and purposes we were moving our household (or an attenuated version thereof) to the Conqueror’s Tower for Advent court (and as we would also for Christmastide court). Advent court was to be so packed with activities and feasting that running to and fro, often in the dead of night, between the Tower and our house was simply impractical, so Edmond had assigned us generous quarters in one of the new buildings within the inner bailey.

Although I felt weary already at the idea of so much feasting and fun, I was glad to leave the Cornhill house for the time being. While we were gone, Raife had arranged for the prior of the Holy Trinity Priory to bring in priests to bless each room and reconsecrate the chapel.

It would feel clean on our return.

I could not bear the idea of birthing a precious, tiny baby in a house where imps roamed.

When we arrived within the inner bailey we immediately dismounted and left our household to settle us and them into our apartments while Raife and myself entered the Tower. We were greeted by Edmond’s Constable of the Tower, Alan de Bretagne, the Earl of Richemont. He led us directly to Saint John’s Chapel on the top floor of the Tower, where Hallowmas was to be marked with a service, and the participants in today’s planned hunt were to be blessed.