‘Excuse me, Highness. I will see if your other Lady needs assistance with her pail.’ Ralf’s mouth twitched slightly behind his beard and he sketched a shallow bow before moving towards Elin, who was dozing lightly, her hand precariously on the edge of the container as she slept.
Judith watched as Ralf lifted Elin’s fingers gently away from the handle, tipped the contents quickly and then replaced the vessel by her side, all without disturbing the girl’s slumber. Judith hoped that her friend would sleep until they reached the mouth of the river, although she couldn’t imagine sleep for herself. She was too nervous about her new home to sleep.
As she watched the horizon in the direction Ralf had pointed, she saw a dark mass take form and began to hear the screams of the gulls that meant land was nearby. The gusts of wind started to diminish and the sail quieted, just the thrum of the ropes indicating that the breeze hadn’t disappeared completely. The pull of the oars became louder as the large vessel rounded the mass of land on the left hand side. Judith could see green fields beyond the cliffs, and although the sun wasn’t shining, the rain had stopped.
The ship’s direction turned again, and Judith realised they were passing between two great tracts of land down the centre of the channel. On one side was the island of Wihtwara, so the other solid mass of land must be Wessex, according to the maps Brother Pierre had shown her. Her husband’s capital was at the head of the river, so they weren’t that far away from her new life. Judith’s stomach clenched in trepidation.
***
Ralf gazed down at Elin as she slumbered. He knew she would be embarrassed if she woke and caught him watching her, but once his King was awake, he might not get a chance to see her until much later, after the formal greetings were made.
He wondered who would be at the dock to greet the King and his new Queen. His other sons, assuredly. Ralph wondered what they would make of the girl their father had married while on a pilgrimage to Rome. Or indeed, what she would make of them.
He knew that if his sister was aware they were putting into port, she would inveigle an invitation to join them, or even come without being invited. Ralf looked forward to seeing her again, wondering if the months since he last saw her had brought any changes in her habitual good humour. Ghislaine was unfailingly cheerful and inveterately mischievous, and he doubted that any ladies of the court that had undertaken her care while he had been away would have cured her of these qualities. He hoped not; she was a breath of fresh air in a court that sometimes took itself too seriously. The court of Frankia had shown him that, and he looked forward to Judith’s influence in Wessex and on his little sister.
As he watched, Elin’s eyes flickered open and he gazed into their pale green depths in wonder, before he recovered himself and Elin sat up abruptly.
‘Take care, Lady,’ Ralf dropped into a crouch beside her, steadying the empty pail beneath her hand. He saw the blush creep up her cheek and she looked away quickly. Then turned a surprised expression towards him.
‘Land, Lord?’ He heard the dryness in her throat and he reached behind her, to where the stoppered bottles of ale reposed beneath the sailcloth canopy that had shielded them from the wind and rain until their stomachs had necessitated changing their position on the ship to somewhere more convenient. The room set aside for them below decks had remained unused. Ralf uncorked the bottle and passed it to Elin who took a hesitant sip.
‘That is why the ship is steadier, Lady. We are in the lea of land on both sides, and will soon turn into the mouth of the river. So although the ship is being rowed hard forwards, there is little cross wind to rock it sideways.’ He watched her take another, longer drink from the bottle before handing it back with a grateful smile. ‘So your stomach will settle, Lady. And we will reach land before nightfall, I’d hazard.’
Ralf stood up and inclined his head in deference as Elin sat up properly and took in her surroundings. Judith was still comforting Alys, and Elin made a move to go towards them. Ralf extended his hand to help her to her feet, and brushed her knuckles with his lips.
‘I must go to the King, Lady. But I look forward to seeing you when we get ashore.’
‘Lord,’ she dimpled at him shyly, and turned towards the Queen, as Ralf picked his way over the spars of the ship to get to where the princes and the King still slept. He looked forward to dry land more with every moment, and he tried to stop grinning inanely before anyone noticed.
***
Chapter 17
As it turned out, there were dozens of carts and wagons on the quayside at Ferneham, but only the servants in attendance. As the unloading of the ship began, Ralph wondered if the look-outs hadn’t spotted their vessel as it sailed up the river, then felt concern over the lack of preparation. What if they had been a party of Danish raiders, landing at Ferneham with the intention of capturing Winchester? The oath-men with the King had obviously had the same thoughts, as they glared around, looking for guards in attendance and finding none. Ralf heard the whisper of steel as they eased their swords in the scabbards.
‘How long have you been waiting?’ asked Ralf of the ostler holding the reins of one of the horses attached to the wagons, whispering to the restless animal and patting the mare’s neck.
‘Since sun-up, Lord. We didn’t know when you would dock, so Prince Ӕthelbald ordered us down here at dawn to wait.’
‘And guards? If the King is returning, where are the guards to accompany him into the palace?’ Ralf was exasperated, but was careful not to let the ostler think he was the one Ralf was angry with.
‘Gone back to the palace, Lord. We’ve to send one of the lads to fetch ‘em back once the King arrives, but they got sick of waiting and wanted a proper noon meal.’ The ostler whispered again to the horse, restless with waiting for so long, and disturbed by the noise and bustle now the ship was being unloaded around it. Ralf patted the horse’s neck and thanked the man, then went in search of the King.
Ӕthelwulf was seated in a closed carriage with a couple of his oath-men and Prince Ӕthelred. Behind him, in the next carriage, sat Judith with Prince Ӕlfred, Elin and Alys. The rest of the carts were stacked with chests and boxes and trunks of every shape and size, with servants and oath-men seated on the front, waiting until Ralf gave the order to depart. He swung himself up beside the driver of the King’s carriage and nodded.
Slowly, the cavalcade wound its way from the quayside towards the flatter, dryer land where the King held his court. Ralf sighed in relief; they were home.
***
Judith watched the shrubbery pass by the carriage window. The larger trees were bare, but the hedgerows were full of shiny winter greenery and vivid red berries. Birds flitted in and out of the hawthorn and she saw rabbits scurry in the undergrowth away from the large hoofs of the shaggy cart-horses. The track was muddy and churned, and Judith thought the land was rain-washed and slightly grey when she compared it to the crisp winter green of her father’s estate.
Beyond the hedges bordering the road, the fields looked brown, with nothing growing and the ground empty. If she craned her neck, she could see a wooden stockade in the distance, with covered watchtowers and a huge gateway which stood open, people passing through with carts and livestock in the gathering dusk. As they drew nearer, she could see stone walls, broken and repaired in places with huge wooden spars. Against the walls were sloping thatched roofs and wooden hovels crowding together, with children running in and out and shouting, coming forward to salute the wagons and carriages. Ӕlfred waved his hand, and Judith and her ladies followed suit, to the delight of the populace. Adults bobbed their knee or swept off their hats, calling blessings on the royal party. Judith smiled until her face began to ache and waved until her wrist grew stiff.
The carriages containing the King and the rest of the
royal party pulled into an open courtyard. The wagons containing the baggage trailed around towards what Judith supposed must be the rear of the palace, and she looked out at the walls which would comprise her new home.
The front was like a Roman villa, with a portico held up by columns, and a marble floor leading away into the building. There was another storey, featuring a terrace above, and windows beneath a tiled roof. But Judith could also see part of the tile mended with thatch, and a wooden extension of the stonework, making the palace a mixture of stone and timber. Dogs, geese and chickens wandered around the front of the building, and beneath the portico she observed a cat feeding a litter of kittens on a pile of straw.
Judith watched her husband descend from the first carriage, with Prince Ӕthelred jumping down without waiting for help and running up the steps in front of his father, eager to be home. Then Ralf opened their carriage door, and Prince Ӕlfred scrambled out, bounding up the stairs to join his brother. Judith placed her hand in Ralf’s and stepped gingerly down onto the soft, rain-soaked earth. Puddles adorned the apron of stone in front of the palace, and she looked carefully to see if she could find a way to get beneath the porch without wetting her feet.
A shriek of delight attracted her attention, and she saw a young girl racing from beyond the portico, her skirt hitched above her knee and her veil whipping her face in the wind. Ralf released her hand and braced himself for the child to launch herself into his arms.
‘Ralf. At last. You have been gone so long. Why did you not come home sooner?’ shrieked the girl as she hurled herself at Ralf and he caught her, swinging her up in a tight embrace.
‘I had to wait for the King, sister. And the Queen.’ He slid her back down his body and onto her feet, then turned towards Judith with a slight bow.
‘Highness, allow me to introduce my sister Ghislaine. Ghislaine, this is Queen Judith, whom our King married in Frankia.’
Judith smiled at the young girl and tilted her head in greeting, while Ghislaine gaped open-mouthed at her and then recovered herself, bobbing at the knee and keeping her eyes lowered.
‘I am very pleased to meet you, Ghislaine. I have grown very fond of your brother since we have known each other, and he assures me you will help me settle into my new life.’
‘Yes, Majesty. Anything I can do, you need only ask.’ Judith hid a smile as Ghislaine gazed at her with eyes like saucers, flicking down her travelling outfit and then assessing her own gown and finding it wanting.
‘Then when I have been shown to my chambers, I would like you to help Alys and Elin unpack my things.’ Judith raised her brows at Ralf, and he swept his arm towards the portico.
‘Come, Highness. I will show you to the Queen’s apartments.’
Judith waited for Alys and Elin to climb out of the carriage, and then they followed Ralf and Ghislaine, who had yet to relinquish her brother’s hand and stop chattering to him in a language Judith couldn’t understand.
She would learn.
***
Chapter 18
Emer heaved a huge sigh and ran her fingers through the hair on her lover’s chest. His arm encircled her and by the regular sound of his breathing, she knew he was falling asleep. She didn’t mind; it gave her more time to think. The chamber was quiet, the hangings over the door and on the stone walls keeping out the sound of scuffling servants on the gallery rushing to prepare the evening’s feast to welcome the King. Emer knew she should be supervising, but she had bumped into her lover on one of the gloomy passages and had convinced him to share an hour with her.
She had needed reassurance before meeting the King’s wife. The child who would perhaps usurp her place in the King’s household. In the King’s bed. Emer knew the marriage would be in name only until the girl came of age for a consummation, but that the order of precedence would change was certain. Absently, she wondered if her status might change if her new lover acknowledged that she was his mistress, rather than the King’s. A puzzle indeed, and one she might need to consider to safeguard herself in the future.
When the news arrived that the King had married such a young girl, the court had been scandalised, but Emer had been reliably informed that the agreement was that the marriage would not be a marriage in truth until the girl was fifteen. Emer wondered vaguely if the King would live that long.
He was still a strong man, obviously a warrior, yet when they had greeted one another, she had seen in his eyes a bewilderment, as if he wasn’t sure what was required of him. The Ӕthelwulf who had been husband to her friend Osburtha never had that uncertainty. But since her death, he no longer seemed to be the King he had once been. Emer’s eyes narrowed as her lover’s breathing grew deeper and he started to snore.
Ralf Edric was always at the King’s shoulder these days, whispering into the monarch’s ear. And he had inserted his silly sister into the household of the child-Queen. So both of them would have influence, thought Emer in irritation. And while her own husband was away guarding the border between Wessex and East Anglia, watching for raids from the Danes, it would be left to her to strengthen their influence at court. Which was why she had taken another lover. Because if her husband failed to return, she would need a man’s protection at court, and being the unacknowledged mistress of the King no longer seemed enough.
She knew she and her new paramour weren’t exclusive. Emer was aware that the man at her side had other attachments, secret assignations that took him to the furthest rooms of the castle, away from whispers and prying eyes. She didn’t mind. She wasn’t with him because she cared for him. He was an adequate enough lover but she felt a distance between them during the act, as if he was imagining himself with another.
No matter.
Her companion gave a loud snort and Emer felt him tremble beneath her hand as he woke himself up. She smiled and dropped a soft kiss on his chest, stroking her hand downwards and over his belly.
‘Is my Lord refreshed after his doze?’ Emer turned her thin lips up in a smile, and her lover twisted his mouth ruefully.
‘Aye, Lady. Enough to be about my business.’ He took her hand away from his body and kissed her knuckles briefly before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pulling on his linen hose, then his woollen breeches. Emer tugged her robe from the corner of the bed and swathed herself within its folds, tying the belt tightly around her thin waist. Rising smoothly, she went to the side table and poured a goblet from the wine jug. She carried it towards her companion, who was tugging his leather jerkin over his fine linen shirt, and pressed it into his hand with another small smile.
‘Drink, Lord. Before you go. It will refresh you.’
She watched as he swallowed the wine in two gulps and then handed the goblet back to her, pulling on his boots and fastening the straps around his legs. Standing straight, he nodded at Emer and she sank into a deep curtsey.
‘I hope to see you later, Lord,’ she murmured, eyes lowered as he walked to the door and turned.
‘No doubt you will at the banquet, Lady.’
Emer watched him open the door and walk onto the gallery. Her lover, Ӕthelbald.
The Ӕthling; the King’s son and heir.
***
Chapter 19
Judith thought her heart would burst with laughter. After the dreadful crossing and the awful weather, and the lack of comfort in her husband’s mis-proportioned palace, she was relieved to enter her chambers and watch as Elin and Alys, amused by Ghislaine’s exclamations of wonder, unpacked her trunks.
The young girl’s blue eyes widened at each new revelation, at the lengths of silk and velvet and brocade packed into the chests Queen Ermentrude had sent. To Judith the colours seemed more vivid and the textures finer against the rough walls of the palace, and
against the linen and wool Ghislaine herself wore. That the girl’s garments were finely woven was surprising, as Judith had seen other weaves of the same fabric worn by no less a personage than the King which were woven badly, with obvious faults and mis-matches of thread. Ghislaine was clothed in soft linen dyed a gentle shade of yellow, with a pale green overskirt embroidered along the hem with a richer, darker green thread.
Judith had to laugh as Ghislaine swathed herself in a length of rich ochre velvet, pinning it on her slender shoulders with an enormous ruby-centred brooch from Judith’s casket of jewels. On her head she had placed a diaphanous piece of silk that shimmered in the light of the candles ranged around the gloomy chamber, and the fabric draped over her face and shoulders almost to her waist. Ghislaine paraded up and down the bare room, waving her hand regally as Alys and Elin did their best to carry her train so she didn’t fall flat on her face, and Judith giggled uproariously into her hand.
‘What on God’s earth is happening here?’ A stern voice came from the open doorway, and the girls all froze in position as they gaped at the figure filling the portal. Judith saw a tall, thin woman standing there, seemingly quivering with indignation as she gazed at the lengths of material and clothes strewn heedlessly across the bed and chairs, all gleaming jewel-bright in the candle light.
The woman was clad in a bronze gown of finely woven wool, with an under-shift of cream linen that was delicately embroidered with gilt thread around the neck and hem. She wore a head-rail of linen held in place by an intricately-wrought circlet of gold, which covered her hair completely and framed her high-cheekboned face beneath her chin. Her brows drew together and her mouth turned down as she spoke to the dumbstruck group.
Judith, Twice Queen of Wessex Page 7
