Judith, Twice Queen of Wessex

by Lesley Jepson

  Remember me to Gozfrid and to your father, and thank him for passing on my letters.

  I am, in affectionate remembrance, your friend

  Judith, Queen of Wessex and Princess of Frankia

  ***

  Chapter 45

  The long weeks of winter kept Judith’s ladies indoors, and they had used the time to make gowns and tunics and surcoats to wear when the weather improved. The fabrics Judith had brought with her from Frankia were exclaimed over and draped around her many times. She was happy to share the silks and satins with her friends, and Ghislaine determined that they could all wear co-ordinating shades of the same colour, but that Judith’s gowns had to be the richest and most ornate.

  Adal engaged seamstresses from the town, who produced kirtles and tunics from the plainer fabrics in Judith’s chests, but the fine materials were saved for the court ladies to sew when the light allowed in the solar.

  A cacophony of noise suddenly disturbed the peace of the chamber; thundering boots, high-pitched children’s voices and a woman’s laughter. Then the door crashed open and in ran two small boys shrieking with mirth, being chased by Ӕlfred and Ӕthelred. The older boys skittered to a halt and bowed formally at Judith, while the two little ones hid behind one of the wall hangings, giggling loudly.

  Behind them, out of breath from trying to keep up while burdened with a golden-haired toddler on her hip, came Ӕlswith. Judith jumped to her feet and hurried to greet her friend.

  ‘Oh, my dear,’ laughed the young mother, ‘I apologise for those two reprobates. They ran away from me along the corridor, and when my brothers offered to bring them back, they obviously thought it a game of ‘chase’.’ Ӕlswith accepted Judith’s hug with one arm, adjusting the little girl in the other. Judith stepped back with wide eyes.

  ‘Lady…. I mean Ӕlswith,’ her hazel eyes travelled to Ӕlswith’s prominent belly, revealed even more by the tight grip of her daughter’s legs clasped about her mother, ‘I had no idea you were enceinte once more.’

  ‘Is that how it is said in French?’ The older woman laughed, ‘How elegantly put.’ She slid the tiny girl onto her own feet, and the child pushed her fingers into her mouth, blue eyes bright in her round face. Ӕlswith grinned and shrugged, nodding at her belly. ‘A celebration of Christ’s Mass, my dear. We each glorify the Lord in our own way.’ She began to snort with laughter, and Judith couldn’t help but giggle in response.

  ‘Dearest Judith, your gown is beautiful,’ Ӕlswith took her friend’s hand and made her turn around so she could view the gown of vibrant blue velvet over a kirtle of paler blue silk. The sides were embroidered and laced from hip to shoulder, revealing the pale blue beneath. Sleeves to the gown were lined with the silk, and embroidered in azure and gold thread. Judith’s hair was rolled to accommodate her customary circlet, but then twined with blue and golden ribbons which fastened the end of her braid.

  Elin, Ghislaine and Alys were clad in much darker shades of blue which complemented their fairer colouring, and although Elin wore a light veil beneath her silver filet, the other two girls wore their hair uncovered. Judith flushed at her friend’s scrutiny and sought a distraction.

  ‘Come and sit down, Ӕlswith, and introduce me to your brood.’ Judith led the way to her chair by the fire, and Ghislaine hurried to bring another for the Mercian queen. The boys were still playing hide and seek around the hangings, but had lowered their voices in deference to the ladies present in the solar.

  ‘Those two,’ she nodded at her sons scrambling about on the floor, ‘are Ludeca and Wiglaf, named for my husband’s ancestors.’ She smiled and lifted her daughter onto her lap, brushing the child’s wispy fair hair from her face and kissing her round rosy cheek affectionately, ‘and this little jewel is Osthfryth, but we call her Frytha,’ Ӕlswith raised one eyebrow knowingly, with a rueful twist to her mouth, ‘mainly because neither of her brothers can say Osthfryth.’ She hugged the little girl to her chest and squeezed, making the toddler chuckle. ‘Besides, Frytha is a lovely name for such a pretty little princess.’

  ‘She’s beautiful, Ӕlswith. I can see how you must have looked when you were small,’ smiled Judith, reaching out her hand and stroking the long blonde curls in wonder.

  ‘I thought I’d bring the children to see their grandfather, my dear, now the weather is better and the roads are passable again.’ Ӕlswith smiled gratefully at Alys as she passed her a cup of ale and took a sip.

  ‘He will be glad to see them, Ӕlswith. He has had such a chill this winter, and it has left him with a dreadful cough. Seeing you and the children will doubtless cheer him.’ Judith smiled at her friend and nodded at the boys, becoming louder now they were less shy. Ӕlswith set her cup down and clapped her hands.

  ‘Boys, settle down. Ӕthelred, are there horses and dogs in the stable?’ At her brother’s silent nod, she waved her hand in dismissal. ‘Then take Ludeca and Wiglaf and show them where they are.’ She tipped her chin at Judith, ‘And I am sure Adal could find some candied fruit in the kitchen if you say the Queen has sent you?’ Judith grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘There are apples or plums, boys. And ask Adal to have some sent up here, for your mother and sister.’ Judith smiled at the little girl again, and was rewarded with a tiny beam behind wet fingers.

  The boys thundered out of the solar, and Ӕlswith heaved a sigh of relief, shifting her position so Frytha was by her side and away from her belly, rather than sitting in her lap.

  ‘They have been so good on the journey, Judith, I’d rather they ran off some of their spirit outside than in here, where we can’t hear ourselves think. You said my father has been ill? Has he recovered, in your opinion?’ Ӕlswith’s tone was anxious, and Judith stretched to cover her hand, patting it comfortingly.

  ‘He is better than he was. The cough isn’t as harsh now, but I can’t help but think my remedy of honey with ginger and crushed garlic in warmed wine would still help soothe his throat.’ Judith reluctantly picked up her stitching again, and glanced across at Ӕlswith with a shrug.

  ‘And why didn’t he take your remedy, my dear? Was it not to his taste? Men can be such babies when ill, I find.’

  ‘Lady Emer thought it too foreign. She took over the task of nursing him, and although I was allowed to ask after his health, I was not allowed to see him.’ She twisted her mouth ruefully and lowered her eyes, ‘The guards are more frightened of Lady Emer than they are of me, Ӕlswith. And my power lies on the sickbed in that room.’ Judith shrugged and tried to smile at her friend, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed her annoyance. ‘I relied on Ralf to tell me how he was.’

  Ӕlswith gave a loud snort of disgust that made Frytha’s eyes become huge and round, and her little lip began to tremble. Ӕlswith hugged her daughter soothingly and rocked her slightly as reassurance.

  ‘I shall speak to Emer Cuikishe myself, Judith. Ask her what she is thinking, excluding the Queen from the King’s bedside. Have Ӕthelbald and Ӕthelberht been excluded too, might I ask?’ Ӕlswith took another mouthful of ale, sighing through her nose with exasperation as Judith shook her head.

  ‘Ӕthelberht has,’ she paused and dragged a deep breath, making sure her tone remained steady, ‘and Ӕthelbald has gone to defend his own kingdom. He is setting up his court at somewhere called Sherborne.’ Judith kept her eyes on her embroidery, not wanting her friend to see the relief in her face at the absence of the elder prince.

  ‘That’s just over our border,’ shrugged Ӕlswith, unconcerned about her brother’s court. ‘My husband has gone to help Athelstan in Kent, my dear, which is why I have come to see you. It is tedious in Mercia when Burgred is away.’

  Judith bundled up her needlework and stood, smoothing her skirt and trying to compose herself for w
hat was to come: a confrontation with Emer Cuikishe.

  ‘Come and see your father, Ӕlswith. Ghislaine and Alys will look after Frytha.’ Judith beamed at the little girl tucked into her mother’s side in the huge chair, and Ghislaine scurried forward, holding out her hand.

  Ӕlswith levered her thickening body out of the chair, lifting Frytha and giving her to Ghislaine. The little girl immediately put her fingers back in her mouth and regarded Ghislaine with round eyes.

  ‘Come and see what we can make, Frytha,’ whispered Ghislaine. ‘Girls are so much cleverer than boys, you know. All they can do is bang at each other with swords, and look at smelly horses. But come and look what clever girls can do.’ Ghislaine sat on the floor beside a basket heaped with remnants of fabric in every hue, seating Frytha beside her and pulling out the contents.

  Ӕlswith smiled at the way Ghislaine had distracted her daughter, and as Alys went to join in the game, she straightened her own rust-coloured woollen gown over her belly and nodded at Judith.

  ‘Take me to my father, Highness, and we’ll see what that woman has to say for herself.’

  ***

  Chapter 46

  Ludeca and Wiglaf thundered down the stairs behind Ӕthelred and Ӕlfred, cannoning into the kitchen and crashing into Ralf, who was deep in conversation with Adal.

  ‘Ooof!’ Ralf clutched his stomach, where the small head of Ludeca had impacted, and felt relieved that Wiglaf, a few inches smaller, hadn’t been the first to collide with him.

  ‘Have the Danes attacked, Lord? Is the Queen’s solar on fire? Are you being chased by a bear?’ Ralf looked among the four young boys with a raised brow as he rubbed his abdomen ruefully, and Ӕthelred took it upon himself to answer for the others.

  ‘No, Ralf. The Queen asked for some candied apples or plums to be sent up to the solar, and said we could have some while we show the Mercian princes the stables.’

  ‘’N’ duh gogs,’ piped Wiglaf with a grin.

  ‘And the swords,’ said Ludeca, wide-eyed with excitement.

  ‘’N’ gogs,’ insisted Wiglaf stubbornly, giving his brother a hard shove.

  ‘Then I shall take you to the stables, Lords, while Adal takes up some fruit for the Queen.’ Ralf shot Adal an amused look as the older man spoke to a maidservant. Ludeca gawped wide-eyed at Judith’s steward.

  ‘Where’s your hand gone?’ the boy whispered, hypnotised by the sight of Adal’s pinned sleeve. Adal lifted his truncated arm and the boys’ eyes widened.

  ‘A Dane’s axe took it, Lord. Smack, just like that. One moment I was fighting in the shield wall, and the next, my shield was on the floor, with my hand still clutching the strap.’ Adal’s voice was serious, even though Ralf could see his eyes twinkling at the open-mouthed attention of the two younger boys. The older ones had heard the story before, but remained silent.

  ‘Wha’didye’ do?’ murmured Wiglaf, never taking his eyes from the pinned sleeve.

  ‘I stabbed the bastard with my other hand, Lord, and then found a flame to stop the bleeding. Want to have a look?’ Ralf smothered a laugh at the matter-of-fact way Adal spoke about the loss of his hand, and watched the boys edge forward to gaze at the puckered, seared stump of flesh at Adal’s wrist.

  ‘That must have really hurt,’ breathed Ludeca, solemnly raising his eyes to meet Adal’s bright ones. The steward re-pinned his sleeve, resting his stump on his waist with practised ease.

  ‘It did, Lord. But not as much as it hurt the Dane with my seax in his ribs, I’d hazard.’ Adal laughed and then pushed a tray of sliced honeyed apple towards the boys. ‘Take one of those, Lords, and Ralf will take you across to the stables. There are some wooden swords if you want to practice.’

  ‘’N’ gogs?’ asked Wiglaf hopefully.

  ‘Lots of dogs,’ assured Ralf, and the little boy happily trotted over the courtyard to the stables, munching the sticky slice of apple as he ran.

  ***

  Chapter 47

  As Judith reached the door of the King’s chamber with Ӕlswith at her side, the guard stepped forward.

  ‘Highness, you know I cannot let you pass. Orders from Lady Emer.’

  Ӕlswith drew herself up to her full height and glowered at the guard. ‘I would see my father. I advise you to stand aside, or by God, you will be shovelling horse shit out of the stables and cleaning the privies before nightfall.’

  The guard regarded her with an impassive expression, but Judith saw him considering her friend’s threat. After a long moment, the prospect of being on latrine duties tipped the guard’s mind in their favour and he stepped aside and twisted the latch to open the door. Ӕlswith strode through, followed by Judith, who almost stumbled as Ӕlswith halted abruptly with a brief curse.

  ‘Blood of Christ!’

  The room was filled with a smoky blue haze from the fire burning in the grate, and the stench of the commode behind the screen in the corner. King Ӕthelwulf lay on the bed beneath a heap of coverlets and fur throws, and the sour odour of the sweat from his body could be smelled even from the door. Emer Cuikishe sat on a low chair by his bed, muttering a prayer under her breath until a cough from the King made her jump to her feet and put a cup to his lips. Then she turned to see who had defied her orders and entered the chamber.

  ‘What do you mean by…’ her words trailed away as she saw it was Ӕlswith, and she bobbed her knee briefly.

  ‘Highness,’ she shot a venomous look at Judith, ‘Highness,’ a deferential nod towards Ӕlswith, ‘the King is not well enough for visitors, Lady. He is…’

  ‘I will judge what he is for myself, Lady Emer. The Queen tells me she hasn’t been allowed to tend her husband. I find that quite unbelievable.’

  ‘Lady, I thought to save the Queen from worry by nursing his Majesty myself. Ralf Edric has assisted me when I have requested his presence, but I didn’t want the King’s illness to spread through the court. The physicians have done their best, but as you see, they have relinquished the King into my care.’ Judith noticed that Emer kept her eyes lowered when she spoke to Ӕlswith, but observed the tremor in her hands and the shaking of the fabric in her veil. Judith recognised anger when she saw it, and as Emer spoke, she darted behind the older woman to gaze at her husband in shock. His cheeks seemed to have collapsed into his skull, and deep shadows were in evidence beneath his closed eyes. Even his beard looked as if it contained more grey, and the coverlet over his chest appeared to sink with each breath.

  ‘Lady Emer, my husband looks to me like he has lost a great deal of weight.’ Judith’s voice was calm, despite the clenching of her stomach. She rubbed the ring on her thumb and remembered the swans. Her shoulders straightened and she regarded Emer levelly.

  ‘He has trouble eating, Lady. The meat is too much for him to chew, even if I cut it into small pieces. He can only drink wine.’ Emer swept her hand towards the sideboard, where a flagon of wine sat alongside an untouched plate of sliced beef and bread.

  ‘Then why have you not ordered some broth from the kitchen? If he can only swallow and not chew, surely broth would help.’ Judith fixed Emer with a hard look as Ӕlswith seated herself beside the bed and held her father’s hand.

  ‘Broth is peasant food, Lady. The King cannot be expected to eat such fare.’ Emer’s tone was scandalised at the suggestion, and Ӕlswith snorted rudely.

  ‘So you will allow my father to waste away though your snobbery, Lady Emer? I think not. Go and bring Ralf Edric to me. And send a servant to empty the commode, and bring clean linens and some cool water. The King will have his dignity while he is ill, I vow.’

  Emer Cuikishe shook with displeasure, but she merely dipped her head at Ӕlswith and glided to the door, where she
spoke to the guard at length. Then she glared at Judith before turning a bland expression towards Ӕlswith, who was smoothing her father’s hair from his overheated face.

  ‘I have sent the guard for Ralf, and to go and send for the servants. If you will excuse me, Lady, I need to change my gown. Nursing the King day and night has left me little time for my appearance.’ Without waiting for a dismissal, Emer shot another caustic glance at Judith and left the room.

  ‘That damned woman over-reaches her authority, Judith,’ stated Ӕlswith, pulling off the covers from the bed and dropping them on the floor. The door opened and in hurried Ralf, halting abruptly when he saw the state of the King.

  ‘God’s blood!’ he breathed, then turned a look of regret towards Ӕlswith. ‘Lady, forgive me. I had no idea. Lady Emer allowed me to bring the tray of food for his Majesty, but wouldn’t permit me to enter. Had I known, I…..’ He shook his head at the deterioration of his friend.

  ‘Ralf,’ Judith placed a gentle hand on his arm to calm him, and he gazed at her with a concerned frown on his handsome face. ‘Help now. Go to the cook and ask him to prepare some chicken broth. He will have some chicken left over from my meal last night. Tell him to shred the chicken and thicken the broth with lentils or cicers. While that cooks, ask him for a tankard of fresh milk with some honey mixed in. Send that up immediately, with a shallow spoon.’

  ‘Lady.’ Ralf nodded his head once, and left just as several servants entered, one maid’s arms piled with clean linens and another with fresh throws. A brawny-looking man placed a jug of clean water and cloths on the side table near the bed, and then went behind the screen. Judith heard a guttural stream of invective, which didn’t contain any words she understood, but she saw Ӕlswith’s mouth twitch in amusement as she sponged her father’s hot face.

  The servant, holding the pan from the commode as far in front of him as possible, hurried out of the room as the maids cleared the floor of the stained linens deposited there by Ӕlswith. Almost immediately Ralf returned carrying the tankard Judith had requested, and she hitched her skirts to sit at the head of the bed.