‘Mon signeur,’ smiled Elin, gazing up at Ralf with clear green eyes. ‘There are gulls, Ralf. So that means land soon, oui?’
‘Oui, mon amour.’ Ralf caught her fingers and grinned down at her, pleased it was she who had come to find him. He pulled her gently to the place where he had slept, hidden from the casual glances of the crew, and brushed her lips with a gentle kiss.
‘It will be less than an hour, my love, and we shall dock. I’ll bring you a tray of food shortly. Adal has been assured by Gaston that there will be carts and wagons for the Princess’ chests and possessions, and a carriage for the ladies. The soldiers will load the wagons, then escort us to the convent, and Gaston will leave a troop of sentries to ensure the Princess’ safety while she is there.’ He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up so he could kiss her again.
‘I have missed seeing you alone, my love,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘Missed my lessons in your language. I fear I have forgotten much you taught me. Perhaps only ‘mon amour’ remains?’ He laughed softly and felt Elin’s playful shove against his chest.
‘Then peut-être, mon signeur, we shall have to continue our lessons when we get to Senlis.’ Elin chuckled as he raised her fingers to his lips and gently brushed them.
‘Je ne peux pas attendre,’ he whispered, and bowed slightly as she moved past him. Elin raised a surprised eyebrow at his command of French after feigning such ignorance, and he shrugged a grin.
‘I speak only the truth, my love. I can’t wait!’
***
Chapter 93
Judith alighted from the carriage, placing her hand lightly in Ralf’s as he assisted her down the steps. Before she had left her tiny cabin on board the ship, she had asked Alys to roll and weave her hair before braiding it tightly and placing her circlet on her forehead. Her gown was of purple brocade, shot through with gilded thread and with a plain lavender velvet kirtle beneath. She was swathed in her chamois cloak, trimmed with white coney fur and stitched with gold thread, and she had kid-skin slippers on her feet.
She was neither a penitent not a pauper, and she refused to appear as such. They would know without words with whom they were dealing.
Stepping up the shallow steps to the studded door of the huge stone church, she saw a tall, thin woman shrouded in a plain woollen habit, with a tight linen wimple enclosing her sallow face. The woman’s mouth was a hard straight line, her pale eyes sweeping contemptuously over Judith’s attire and bestowing an offended glance at her companions as she took a step forward.
‘Princess Judith, I assume.’ The voice was thin and hard, with an imperious note to it. ‘I am Sister Seraphina, and I am in charge of this house of God.’ She took another step forward, but Judith stood her ground, waiting.
‘I have received a letter from your father the King, God bless and keep him, to inform me that you are under our protection until he decides what the best outcome for your life would be.’
Judith levelled her shoulders and lifted her chin. She could feel the weight of her coronet pulling her head backwards on the slender stalk of her neck and it made her straighten her spine to counterbalance it. She regarded Sister Seraphina calmly.
‘Thank you for your cordial welcome, Sister.’ Judith tilted her lips in a thin smile, and tried to unclench her jaw. ‘This is Demoiselle Elin, Demoiselle Alys and Demoiselle Ghislaine, my ladies, and these are the two gentlemen of my household, my steward Adal and my oath-man and protector Ralf Edric.’
Sister Seraphina didn’t grace them with a glance. Instead she kept her eyes locked with Judith’s dark ones. ‘They cannot stay here,’ she snapped. ‘Men are not allowed in the convent.’
‘But they are with me.’
‘That is as may be, Princess, but I am in charge of the convent, and I determine who stays under my roof. They will have to stay in the gatehouse with Father Bernard, and you will not be allowed to see them whilst under my care.’ Sister Seraphina’s thin smile was confident.
Judith raised one delicate eyebrow, summoning all the training from her childhood, and all the experience from the Wessex court. She was no longer the easily-intimidated child she had been.
‘Sister.’ Judith’s voice was firm and commanding, brooking no refusal. ‘They are in my employ, my steward and my protector.’ She paused, knowing without looking that both Ralf and Adal had bowed their heads in salute. ‘And although I will accede to your wishes regarding the accommodations, I will see them whenever I deem it necessary.’
Sister Seraphina narrowed her eyes at the group, then swung her gaze back to Judith, whose stance hadn’t relaxed for a moment.
‘Very well then,’ snapped the nun tightly, ‘but only at the gatehouse. The King, God bless and keep him, has decreed that sanctity and prayer shall be your daily life until he decides otherwise.’ She turned away, lifting the hem of her habit to step up towards the church and speaking over her shoulder. ‘I shall have your possessions stowed in the storeroom, and you will be provided with suitably simple clothing to wear while you are with us.’
‘That will not be necessary, Sister Seraphina.’ Judith stood unmoving on the steps of the church, her party behind her. She waited until the nun had stopped and turned again.
‘But, Princess, it is required by the King, God bless and keep him.’
Judith lifted her head, trying but failing to keep the glare from her eyes and the implacability from her tone. ‘Sister, I have been the Queen of Wessex twice in the last four years, and I am still a Princess of Frankia. So, although I will stay here as my father wishes, I shall not live in penury.’
‘But chastity, poverty and most of all obedience is ….’
Judith’s voice cut through the older woman’s words like a knife. ‘Sister Seraphina, I am still chaste after having two husbands, and I am obeying my father by remaining here, but I will not dress as if I am a novitiate, and neither will my demoiselles. We are ladies of a royal court, and we will conduct ourselves as such.’
Judith swallowed, wishing she could sip a cup of wine, or even a mug of ale. Her mouth was dry and she could feel her stomach trembling with irritation. That her father thought he could control her even here had started the anger bubbling up again, and Sister Seraphina’s high-handed attitude was not conducive to Judith’s temper. She fixed the old woman with a flinty look.
‘We shall share a room if necessary, but we shall not live in the cells nor wear habits or wimples. As to my father’s guards, they may patrol as they will, but I have to think they are to keep us in here, rather than anyone else out. If the Danes venture this far into my father’s kingdom that we need protection, then I am afraid we are already lost.’
‘It is late, Princess. I will show you and your…ladies…to a room you might share. For tonight, mind you. In the morning we will make different arrangements that cleave more to the King’s wishes, may God bless and keep him.’ With a twist of her mouth, the old nun swept her arm towards the door of the church, indicating that Judith and her household should follow.
Judith glided quickly up the steps and then, with a subtle movement of her shoulders, overtook the older woman and led the way through the doorway and into the church, her words drifting in her wake. ‘My father the King is not here, Sister Seraphina. And although I am currently under your protection, I shall live as I choose.’
***
Chapter 94
Judith sat by the window of their chamber, reading aloud from a psalter she had found on a shelf. Her ladies were stitching, but she had no wish to sew. She hated sewing at the best of times, and these certainly weren’t the best of times.
They had been woken by the tolling of the bell which summoned the sisters to prayer, and Sister Seraphina had marched into the room and ba
rked at them to attend the church service. Reluctantly, Judith had swathed herself in her warmest cloak, and had urged the others to do the same as they trailed, yawning widely, into the church through the door connecting it to the nun’s cloister.
The sisters had sung praises and Sister Seraphina had chanted prayers, then Father Bernard had celebrated mass. Judith and her companions had dutifully bowed their heads, but only Alys and Elin had made the required responses. Ghislaine’s attention was drawn by the gilding on the altar and the vaulted roof, and Judith was too angry to trust her voice.
Outside, she heard the harsh tones of Gaston giving orders to his soldiers, his words clearly carrying into the silent sanctuary of the church. Every curse word was as clear as if he had been standing at the altar, and the astonished blinking of Alys and the shocked gasps of the nuns had started a giggle bubbling up in Ghislaine that she had difficulty in swallowing. Judith thought the girl might not understand the words, but she certainly understood the tone.
As Judith listened, the commander seemed to divide his force, a goodly number dismounting and leading their horses back into the stables, as the fading clop of hoofs attested. Then she heard footsteps returning, and one particular voice ask for orders.
Gaston barked that they had to stay at the convent to guard the Princess’ safety, while he returned to the King with the rest of the men. He would send a messenger when their orders changed, but until then, he would wait for Sister Seraphina to finish her devotions and entrust a message to him for the King.
Judith wondered what the old nun had told her father of their encounter the previous night, and she determined to ask her when next they came into contact. Meanwhile, they made their beds in her large chamber. She tossed the psalter aside, and jumped to her feet.
‘I am going to see Ralf and Adal at the gatehouse.’
Elin looked up from her sewing. ‘Sister Seraphina will not approve, Princess. Should you ask her permission before you go? To keep the peace, if nothing else?’
Judith looked askance at her demoiselle, and shook her head. ‘Elin, if I ask permission once, then that will be all I ever do. We went to devotion this morning against my better judgement, and we shall not be going again until the Sabbath. I am the Princess, and she is the nun. I do as I please.’
‘And I need to see Ralf,’ exclaimed Ghislaine, throwing down her needlework and levering herself from the low stool.
‘Why?’ asked Elin sharply, and Ghislaine gaped at the tone of her voice.
‘Because he’s my brother, and I don’t see why we should do what she says, Sister Blessankeepim. Like the Princess said, if we do it once, we will be under her thumb. I had enough of that with Emer Cuikishe in Wessex.’ Ghislaine straightened her bodice and marched determinedly towards the door, snatching it open.
‘Princess?’
Judith smiled serenely and stepped toward the door, entering the cloister and blinking in the bright sunlight after the dim room.
‘Where are you going, Lady?’ The nun sweeping the cloister stopped the motion of her broom and regarded Judith with a puzzled expression.
‘I am going to speak with my oath-man and my steward, although I fail to see it is any of your concern.’ Judith tried to push her irritation down and answer civilly.
‘Sister Seraphina does not permit ladies to visit the gatehouse, Lady. It is forbidden.’
Judith swallowed, aware of Ghislaine at her shoulder, then took a deep breath, lifting her chin slightly. ‘Then it is as well that I am a Princess, not a Lady. Sister Seraphina has no sway over my actions, Sister, and if I wish to speak with my steward, then that is what I shall do. Demoiselle Ghislaine will be my chaperone, so there will be no impropriety.’ Judith strode down the shallow steps and onto the gravel pathway to the gatehouse.
‘I shall tell Sister Seraphina,’ bleated the nun, leaning her broom against the rough whitewashed wall.
‘Please yourself,’ called Ghislaine in English, wrinkling her nose impertinently at the nun as she caught up Judith’s train to keep it from trailing in the dust.
Judith shook her head in admonishment, but couldn’t help grinning at Ghislaine. ‘If every movement is spied upon, Ghislaine, it will be a very long stay. I must ask Adal if he can find a messenger to take a letter to Baldwin. I can only send it to his father and hope that the Count knows where he is.’
‘So he and Gozfrid can rescue us, Princess? I’d like to be rescued by Gozfrid.’ Ghislaine gave Judith a dreamy smile, and Judith had to suppress a chuckle. Ghislaine wore her heart on her sleeve, and she wondered if Ralf would approve of his sister’s infatuation.
Judith couldn’t help but agree; it would be wonderful to be rescued. But she didn’t intend to wait. She would take charge of her own destiny as soon as she could, find a quiet estate where she would live the life she chose, and if Baldwin was alive and safe, he would find her.
***
Chapter 95
Sweat glistened on Baldwin’s skin as he swiped his sword at the wooden upright over and over. He had left Gozfrid asleep on the straw mattress they shared in one of the upstairs rooms, but he was too full of nervous energy to sleep.
Again and again he swung his long sword, enjoying the play of muscles in his back and shoulders the motion caused. He knew he would have to bathe in the lake to the south of the village when he was finished, and he hoped Gozfrid wanted to spar when he finally woke. They needed to stay sharp; Judith might arrive any day now, and then they would put their plan into action.
‘Win! Win!’ Gozfrid shouted above the clang of metal and crack of wood, and Baldwin turned. As he swung his head around, droplets of sweat from his hair flicked into the air as he quickly looked around and formed rivulets down his chest and back. He fought the urge to wipe himself with his shirt and allowed the perspiration to cool; he would bathe after his spar with Gozfrid.
‘I have just seen Gaston ride out on the palace road, Win. I heard him shouting at his troops in the square.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I have been woken more times than I can count by Gaston’s voice, Win. Before I opened my eyes, I thought we were in our barracks at the palace and he was shouting to wake us up.’
‘Then it begins, my friend. We wait until one of the men he has left behind comes into the tavern, then we find out how well the Princess is being guarded.’
‘And will they do that, Win? Come into the tavern, I mean.’
A snort. ‘They are soldiers, Goz. And there are girls and ale in the tavern. What do you think?’
***
Prince Louis watched Gaston and his men clatter into the stable yard. The old warrior dismounted with an audible grunt, and threw his reins to one of the lads hurrying to greet him.
‘Gaston.’
‘Lord Prince,’ Gaston turned briefly and bowed, his eyes shifting towards the stair that led to the King’s apartments.
‘Y..y..you kept m..m..my s..s..sister safe?’ Louis regarded Gaston worriedly. The man seemed nervous.
‘Aye, Lord Prince. But she isn’t happy being there. Not happy at all.’ The gnarled old soldier’s mouth quirked in a rueful smile and he shot Louis a sideways glance. ‘That old trout of a nun will have her work cut out making your sister obey the Lord’s word.’ He snorted a chuckle and stepped towards the stairway.
‘A..a..and you m..m..must report that to m..m..my father?’
‘Yes, Lord Prince. Sister Seraphina entrusted a letter to me this morning. We had to wait while she wrote it, otherwise we would have been back earlier.’ Louis watched Gaston pat his pocket and he took a step towards the man, holding out his hand.
‘I’ll t..t..take it, Gaston.’
‘The Sister said I had to give it to none other than the King, Lord Prince.’ Gaston’s tone was uncertain, and Louis made himself offer a clear countenance and a warm smile.
‘I would imagine you w..w..would like s..s..something to eat and a d..d..decent bottle of w..w..wine, Gaston. You have b..b..been away too long. I will take it s..s..straight to my father, I swear.’ Louis held out his hand again with a reassuring nod.
‘That I would, Lord Prince. The merde they serve in Wessex isn’t fit to clean leather, and there was only thin ale and watery porridge at the convent for both supper and to break our fast. A good bottle of your father’s wine would settle my stomach nicely.’ Gaston held the letter towards Louis, who took it from him with a smile and a firm nod.
‘G..g..go and rest in your quarters, Gaston. I will s..s..send one of the servants with some roast wood pigeon and a bottle of my f..f..father’s best wine, to ease your s..s..stomach and help you s..s..sleep.’
Gaston handed the letter to Louis and with a brief wink, bowed and turned on his heel towards the soldier’s lodgings.
Once Louis was in the dim enclave of the palace, he eased up the blob of wax sealing the piece of parchment and scanned the cramped, spidery lines quickly.
Your Majesty, I pray the Lord to bless and keep you.
The Princess has arrived safely with us, but I doubt she will allow herself to be cajoled into taking the veil as you hoped she would. I will do my best to persuade her into accepting the fate God has chosen for her, but I feel she will take a long time to become reconciled with your plans and those of the Almighty. The guards will need to be alert and watchful, lest she attempt to escape her Holy destiny. I too shall remain vigilant and communicate with you again soon, when I hope for better news to impart.
Your servant in God, whom I entreat to bless and keep you. Sister Seraphina.
Louis meticulously folded the letter into its original lines, and then folded it once more over the seal, deliberately cracking the wax. He dropped it on the floor and stood on it, scrubbing his boot over the paper several times until it was filthy with the grime from the stone tile. Picking it up, he hurried up the stairs to find his father, speaking in his presence chamber with Count Audacer and Louis’ brother Charles.
Judith, Twice Queen of Wessex Page 30
