Judith, Twice Queen of Wessex

by Lesley Jepson

  ‘Lords.’ His voice was harsh, and Baldwin wasn’t sure if it was from lack of use or because he had crushed his windpipe.

  Baldwin nodded in acknowledgement and then raked his gaze around the room at the other guards. ‘Right then, you load of useless branleurs, wake up and listen.’

  Baldwin waited a few moments while the sentries pushed themselves into sitting positions with a variety of anguished groans and truculent mutterings. Some held onto their heads as if that was the only way they would stay attached to their shoulders, and Baldwin wondered how strong the wine had actually been, even before the addition of the poppy-milk.

  ‘God’s blood.’ His voice was harsh, and a couple of the young men winced at the volume, eyeing him blearily from lowered brows. He paced further into the room, leaving Gozfrid leaning against an upright, his arms folded over his leather jerkin and an amused smirk on his face.

  ‘I’m not surprised Gaston left you lot here. The only use for you is to guard four women and a one-armed man, and you can’t even do that properly.’

  ‘Yes we can,’ muttered one of the sentries without looking up.

  ‘That’s why the old man gave us the task,’ said another, to back up his comrade.

  ‘Because he wasn’t up to it himself.’ A third opinion, from the back of the room as Baldwin gazed around, then a grumble from the soldier immediately beside him.

  ‘He’s gotten soft.’

  Baldwin snorted a derisive laugh, and heard a gasp of incredulity from Gozfrid.

  ‘Soft?’ Baldwin loudly raised his voice and a couple of the sentries groaned again. ‘Gaston will never be soft. He has forgotten more about soldiery than you will ever know, and he left you here because you are all lazy and brainless.’ He strode up to one of the young men clutching their head, jabbing him in the arm with a hard finger. ‘You would be a liability in a shield wall, so he doesn’t want you beside him.’

  He turned and jabbed another. ‘He left you here, among nuns, to guard an eighteen year old girl.’ He flicked a third with the back of his hand. ‘And you failed. Miserably. Had I been a Dane, I could have taken the King of Frankia’s daughter hostage quite easily.’

  Baldwin levelled a finger at one of the sentries he had choked into unconsciousness, lowering his voice menacingly, ‘And you would have been to blame.’

  He stood upright and addressed the group once more. ‘But I come to offer you all a new opportunity. You can return to Gaston, and tell him how well you guarded the King’s daughter, and see what your reward is.’ Baldwin held out his arms, to include all who were present. ‘Or you can come with us, work hard, become a warrior, and I promise you real reward, coin, booty, maybe even the chance to kill a few Danes if we’re lucky.’ He grinned around the room, and Sigram spoke.

  ‘And what do we have to do for that?’

  ‘Lord. What do we have to do for that, Lord.’ Gozfrid’s tone was expressionless, his face unreadable.

  ‘Lord.’ Sigram inclined his head respectfully, and in his side vision Baldwin saw Gozfrid’s shoulders relax, his hand leave the hilt of his seax.

  ‘You have to train,’ explained Baldwin simply. ‘I will take you sorry lot of misbegotten connards and train you to become a war band that I can be proud of. My war band, who will protect me and my wife, and who will share in our good fortune.’ He shrugged, and walked back to join Gozfrid at the door to the barn. ‘Or you can go back to Gaston. Or even hide here, until Gaston comes to find you. But make no mistake, if you choose to come with us, you will work hard for me.’

  There was a brief moment of silence, and Baldwin could see each one of the men weighing his words, and deciding that joining Baldwin was a better option than returning to face Gaston’s wrath. Imperceptibly, every one of them looked to Sigram as their leader and nodded their head or merely blinked their eyes in acquiescence.

  Sigram stood. ‘We ride with you. Lord.’

  ***

  Chapter 105

  Judith glided down the cloister towards the room in which Sister Seraphina had spent the night.

  As Elin and Alys had helped her dress, Judith had despatched Ghislaine to find a specific piece of silk from one of the chests still packed with her things. Now she was truly married, she was willing to cover her hair, although she didn’t wish to be swathed from chin to forehead in stiff linen. The piece of silk she wanted had been sent by her mother, an iridescent square of gossamer fabric, softer than thistledown and embroidered all around with gold thread.

  Alys had rolled her hair as usual, then pinned the transparent silk over the crown of her head and anchored it with her coronet. The green velvet gown, with the gleaming brocade panel down the front, flowed around her ankles and her emerald and seed pearl girdle, heavy with wrought gold shone at her slender waist, matching the emerald cross at her throat. The neckline of her gown was wide, although she had a heavily embroidered linen shift beneath it, and the edge of the green fabric was intricately stitched with golden thread.

  She didn’t knock, but rattled the handle more than necessary before entering the small room, where the elderly nun was seated at a lop-sided table, reading an illuminated manuscript in the meagre light offered by the small window.

  ‘Have you come to beg for sanctuary, child?’ asked the woman coldly, and Judith gazed at her in surprise.

  ‘Why would you think I needed sanctuary, Sister?’

  Sister Seraphina got to her feet and tipped her chin at Judith, pursing her narrow lips in disgust. ‘To be saved from the brute who insisted on violating you, of course. Who, in his lechery, marked your skin like that.’

  Judith slid her eyes in the direction the nun gazed and saw several dark pink marks along her collar bone and across her shoulder. She did her best not to blush at the memory of Baldwin’s lips, and turned to regard Sister Seraphina once more. The sister continued speaking.

  ‘Of course, you have been ruined for your father to make another match for you. But once you have made adequate acts of contrition for your depravity I am sure you could become a useful member of the community here. After all, even our Lord welcomed the Magdalen into his congregation and forgave her sins. Should we do less than He?’

  Judith lifted her chin and levelled a hard look at the nun. ‘Lord Baldwin is my husband, Sister, and I love him. He wasn’t harsh or cruel with me last night, and…..’

  ‘But we heard your cries,’ interrupted Sister Seraphina. ‘The whole convent must have heard, if not the village. Once your father sends troops...’

  Judith held up her hand imperiously, and the older woman fell silent. ‘I have no need of rescue, Sister. My husband bids me tell you that you and the sisters will not be allowed to leave the convent grounds until we have gone. Father Bernard will hold services in the church for the townspeople, but there will be no access from there to here. That door will remain locked. Once we depart, you may send a message to my father as you wish.’

  ‘You mean to say that you will accompany that monster? Enter into a lewd and lascivious union with a man such as that? Leave here? Disobey your father? Forsake your family and your duty to God for a lecherous reprobate?’

  The old nun quivered with indignation and jabbed a bony finger in Judith’s direction. ‘Do not mistake me, girl, God will make you suffer for this. He will have His revenge for your defiance of His Holy plan for you.’

  Judith held Sister Seraphina’s gaze, her eyes dark and hard in her pale face. ‘You have no knowledge of what I have endured in order to obey my father, Sister. People with far more power than you, with your sanctimonious piety and petty spite, have tried to make me afraid and have failed.’ Judith regarded the nun contemptuously and took another deep breath.

  ‘Now I have f
inancial independence, I have married the man who loves me as I love him, above all things. I am no longer a child beset by fear. I am a married woman, who cries out in passionate abandon when her husband takes her unto himself.’

  ‘You are a wanton harlot, abandoning your family for your own lustful desires instead of following our Lord.’ Sister Seraphina hissed the words, spittle flying from her lips.

  Judith straightened her spine and lifted her chin. ‘I am a Princess of Frankia, and I would counsel you against defaming me, Sister. My husband has a warrior’s instinct regarding honour and I would not have him hear you denigrate mine.’ She tilted her lips contemptuously and moved serenely towards the door.

  ‘Your threats do not frighten me, Sister, nor do those of my father. Neither of you have any authority over my life any longer. The only power you hold is within these wretched walls.’ Judith regarded the bare confines of the cell disdainfully, turning narrowed eyes to Sister Seraphina, almost puce with anger and indignation.

  ‘Heed my warning, Sister. You are nothing more than a pitiful earthworm who thinks it’s a viper. And a fat worm may make a tasty meal for a swan.’

  ***

  Chapter 106

  Baldwin cradled Judith in his arms as their heartbeats slowed and their breathing returned to normal. Holding her like this calmed his mind, knowing she was safe and she was with him at last. The next phase of their life was just beginning, and he needed to find them somewhere to live, a temporary sanctuary until he could reconcile with her father and make a permanent home for them all.

  That he now had other people relying on him felt strange, but in a good way. He had been independent for so long, choosing to fight Danes wherever he was needed, Gozfrid at his side. Now he had a wife, a household and a war band all looking to him for shelter and their livelihood. He knew Judith had her treasure from Wessex, but he would only use that to establish them somewhere. After that, he would provide for them all.

  He felt Judith’s tiny hand slide over his chest, stroking and tapping gently on his skin, and his mouth twitched in a smile as he hugged her more tightly to his side, feeling her fragile bones beneath the muscles of his arm. Physically she had remained the delicate, slender girl who had left just before her thirteenth birthday, but in their brief time together at the convent, she had left him in no doubt that she had matured into a woman. Her knee slid over his thigh and he smiled to himself again, dropping a kiss on her hair.

  ‘We begin our journey tomorrow, my love. After we have broken our fast, I will have the wagons loaded with your chests and your carriage prepared.’ He felt her face move from his chest as she looked up at him, her skin silvered slightly in the light of the hazy moon which crept through the window.

  He wouldn’t be sorry to leave this place. Living among nuns, feeling their fear and disapproval every minute of the day had been difficult, and he had kept the soldiers as far from the convent as he could. He had set them the task of making sure the harnesses were repaired and the axles of the wagons were strong. Baldwin didn’t know how good the roads were from Senlis to Lorraine, and he didn’t want any unnecessary delays that might allow the King’s soldiers to catch up with them before they were safely in the next kingdom.

  ‘During the day, Baldwin? Are you not afraid of discovery?’

  Her change of position as she spoke had made her breast brush along his chest, and he felt the familiar surge of wanting begin in the pit of his stomach and prickle up his spine. He had waited so long to make her his own that now he didn’t seem to be able to subdue his urge to make love to her. Not that he wanted to quell his desire for her, but neither did he want her to think him insatiable. Baldwin trailed his fingertips down her ribcage and felt a satisfying shiver of anticipation course through her body. He dragged his mind back to their conversation.

  ‘I refuse to travel at night, my love, stealing away under cover of darkness like thieves.’ He smoothed the palm of his hand over her buttock, delighted when she pressed herself closer to him as a response.

  ‘There will be some subterfuge required, but not a great deal. We are a cohort of troops escorting a newly-widowed cousin of King Lotha’s to her new home in his domain. Not so very far from the truth.’ He claimed her lips briefly, feeling her hand begin to stroke downwards over his chest towards his belly. Their conversation would be over very soon; he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything but her.

  ‘But I need you and your ladies to dress as if you are in mourning. Do you have the garments for that, my love, or should I purloin something from the store here?’ He shuddered a breath and felt her smile against his skin. She was completely aware of the effect upon him of her touch and was amused by it, and that fact alone delighted him.

  ‘That won’t be necessary, Baldwin.’ He heard the revulsion in her tone. ‘I have my mourning gown with me, as do we all.’ She gave a little shiver, which made his skin prickle with desire, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to delay much longer.

  ‘And veils, my love. I would have you swathed and anonymous, too distraught to speak.’ He slid onto his side, brushing his knuckles over her jaw, following the path of his fingers with his lips, and he heard her gasp, pushing her hands into his hair as he kissed her throat.

  ‘I have a ……fold of ….pewter silk in one of the chests.’ The words fell from her lips in short bursts in between kisses, her body squirming beneath his. ‘Alys will know …. which one. We can fashion….. veils…. from that.’

  He silenced her with his lips, and there was no more opportunity for words.

  ***

  Chapter 107

  Clad once more in her hated dark blue velvet, Judith made herself comfortable in the corner of the carriage. Her pewter silk veil was swathed around her head and throat, held in place by her coronet. Elin sat beside her, Ghislaine and Alys opposite, and all were shrouded in the darkest gowns they owned, with their hair bound and covered.

  ‘We look like fat crows,’ pouted Ghislaine as she gazed disconsolately around the carriage, moving the leather curtain from the window to try and see where Gozfrid was positioned in the convoy.

  Adal was driving the carriage, and there were five wagons following, each driven by one of the former sentries. Four of the carts contained chests of clothes and Judith’s treasure from Wessex, while the fifth contained shields and armour for the war band. Ralf and Sigram rode at the front, under orders from Baldwin to scout further afield when they were on the road, then Baldwin and Gozfrid rode in front of Judith’s carriage. Two of the sentries rode at the end of the convoy and there was a guard on either flank. Judith felt quite safe, and knew that the weapons could be easily accessed if they encountered any difficulties on the road.

  As Ghislaine held the curtain aside, Judith saw Baldwin handing the keys of the convent’s exterior doors to Father Bernard. Sister Seraphina hadn’t been seen since Judith had called her a worm; her meals had been taken to her, and Father Bernard had celebrated mass privately in her cell. Baldwin had told her that he would instruct Father Bernard not to open the door to the town until nightfall, and then deliver all the keys to Sister Seraphina. The elderly priest had readily agreed, and she could see him blessing first Baldwin and then the train of wagons with a smile and a murmured prayer.

  ‘Ralf, where will you be riding?’ Ghislaine pushed herself through the window to speak to her brother, and Judith hurriedly grasped at her gown so the girl didn’t tumble head first out of the carriage.

  ‘Lord Baldwin has instructed me to scout with Sigram, sister. He and Gozfrid protect the front of the procession.’ Ralf leaned down from his mount and nodded to the other occupants of the carriage, winking at Elin with a broad grin. ‘Sit down, Ghislaine, unless you want to swallow flies once the horses start to move.’

  The gir
l plonked back down into her seat with a grimace, then gazed at Judith with wide eyes. ‘Where will we stop, Princess? Do you know?’

  ‘Lord Baldwin says he has instructed your brother and Sigram to look for a country estate or monastery that might allow us to spend the night, or a large tavern with good stabling for the horses. He thinks we should cross over the river into Lorraine sometime after midday tomorrow. After that, we will lodge with King Lotha for a while, until we decide what to do.’

  Ghislaine shrugged her shoulders excitedly. ‘It will be an adventure, Princess. I have only seen the river from the barge, and then the inside of that tedious convent while we have been in Frankia. It will be lovely to look at some countryside, and as long as G….. guards look after us,’ she flushed as she almost mentioned Gozfrid by name, ‘we should be quite safe.’

  To hide her blush, she lifted the curtain again and gazed out of the window as the convoy pulled forward out of the convent courtyard. ‘And good riddance, Sister Blessankeepim,’ she shrieked as the carriage travelled beneath the gatehouse portal and onto the southerly road.

  Judith hid a smile at the girl’s behaviour; she had exactly the same thought as they passed the nuns’ quarters on their way to the huge studded door. She knew that as soon as Sister Seraphina could get a message taken to her father, one would be sent, and she dreaded what he would have to say.

  Not that it would make any difference; she was Baldwin’s wife in every sense, and nothing her father said or did would change that.

  ***

  After a night spent in a monastery infirmary, the cavalcade set out again for Lorraine. Judith had had to share a chamber with her ladies, and all the men shared the bunks in the hospital. She had missed being wrapped in her husband’s embrace, and looked forward to arriving at their destination. Once they had broken their fast with bread and cheese, and a delightful foaming cider that the monks brewed themselves, their journey continued.