by Smith, Skye
"Well, not any more, love," he told her but stayed away from wondering if Henry chose her so that he would have a child with royal Welsh blood. "What are you writing?"
"A letter to Anselm, you know, the Archbishop. He is in Rome with Pope Paschal discussing the Investiture thingy. While he is with the pope, I was hoping he could make the case for making my mother a saint. She was such a good woman and her reign was a blessing to Scotland."
"Love, I have noticed that Rome sanctifies those who build churches, not those who are good. That being said, your mother did take a folk that was split between the Culdees, the Greek Church, and the real North Sea gods, and enticed them into accepting the Roman way."
Edith crossed herself, three times, and then stared at him, "I sometimes fear that you are going to burn for your beliefs, if not in this life, then the next."
"Nah, love,” he said pulling out his Valkyrie knife, the woman's fish filleting knife that most Hoodsmen carried. "So long as I keep the faith with this knife, by protecting women, then I will be chosen by the Valkyries and I will feast forever in the Great Hall of Woden. I have my own personal Valkyrie you know."
"So you have told me,” said Edith as she scrumpled up an hour of careful wording and threw it into the fire.
Nest returned with not just a pillow for Raynar, but with some steaming infusions of mint and honey for all of them to share.
"Thank you,” Raynar told her in Welsh as she plumped his pillow for him. "How long have you lived in the English court?"
Nest began to reply but then just stared at him. "You speak British,” she gasped. "Oh please, may we speak some more of it. It has been so long.” Then she remembered his question. "Oh, since '93. I was just a child of eight when my father Rhys, King of the British, was killed."
"Edith does not speak the true tongue so you may speak freely. What did Henry promise you when he covered you?"
"Oh, it wasn't like that,” she giggled. "I took him. After all, I was seventeen and still a virgin. That is unheard of for a British woman. Did I do right?"
"You did right, but never tell Edith that I said so. If you bear Henry a son he will allow you to choose your own husband. If you bear him a daughter, Edith will choose your husband. But a word of warning. If you wish to bed the king again, then first ask the permission of the queen. It is only polite. This is her court, and you are her lady, and her ward."
"I will,” she replied casting a guilty look towards Edith, who was beginning her letter afresh. "Are you 'thee' Raynar? The one with the magic bow that slew the god of the Norse?"
"And who has been telling you such tales?"
"Prince Gruffydd of Gwynedd of course, when he met with Henry a couple of years ago. He told me of how he beat the Normans in Anglesey with the help of Magnus of the Norse and Raynar of the magic bow. He said that Magnus offered his help in return for your magic bow, the one that killed Harald of Norway in the olden days. You are that Raynar, no?"
"Aye, and it was my bow that killed Hugh, the butcher of Shrewsbury to prove to Magnus that it was the same bow. The bow was just a token of a larger agreement, but it helped that Magnus believed in its magic."
"Shush,” Edith hissed as she threw another letter into the fire. "Oh, I don't know enough details to write a letter about how my mother benefited the Roman churches in Scotland. Raynar, help me. Please."
"Sorry love, I am the wrong man to ask about churches. Why not write to your little brother David and invite him to leave winter in Scotland and come and visit you, and bring some church scholars with him."
"Of course. That is exactly what I will do. I will invite David back to live in Winchester again, and tell him to come soon, while Anslem is still in Rome.” She grabbed another empty scroll and began to write.
"Westminster, love. Not Winchester,” he said slowly. This was as good a time as any to tell her.
Edith looked at him, then clapped her hands and ordered everyone out of the room, immediately.
Nest bent over and kissed his cheek as she left him, and then blew another kiss from the door. He would have to remember to lock his bedroom door tonight.
Edith waited until they were alone and then said, "how long were you going to keep this news secret."
"Edith, love, I am what, two hours off a horse. I was waiting until Mary, Lucy and Maud were present so I only need tell it once."
"Tell me,” she ordered.
"Well, Henry is going to spend the winter moving his court through Cornwall and Devon and then towards Shropshire. I have convinced him that it is too dangerous for you and your children to stay in Winchester. Mortain, or Belleme may have hired spies and assassins, and this place is too close to Southampton, and therefore too close to Normandy. I am going to escort you to London so you can hold court at Westminster palace."
"And Henry agreed to this."
"Immediately. Well after a little convincing. Here at Winchester you are surrounded by the old Normans, and the old Norman prejudices. You and Henry are rebuilding England, and the old Normans don't like that one bit. In London you can surround yourself with the future, not the past. Norman lords will choose to attend Henry's itinerant court, while your court will be attended by folk from London and all of the places that London trades with."
"Did he coach you in how to convince me?” she asked, "Your words sound practiced."
"Urr, he expected you to be angry, because Winchester is Wessex, and you are from a long line of rulers of Wessex.” He watched her face for a hint about whether she was about to start throwing things. She seemed calm, but you could never tell with women who were breast feeding. He had learned long ago never to underestimate the milk madness. "Ugh, so where are Mary and the rest?"
"They will be back soon. Tell me more of your thoughts about this move, for you are not just talking about leaving Winchester, but also that my husband and I will keep different courts."
"While he deals with cleaning up the mess left by the Mortains and the Bellemes, he wants you to begin building the future. Did I ever tell you how young Philippe of France did that in his court. He sent away all the old retainers from the bad old days, and invited the next generation to attend him in Paris. You know, all the sons and daughters who would eventually inherit.” He stayed quiet for a long while her mind worked.
"I like this plan,” she said and became more animated as she explored her own thoughts. "Most of the next generation, those of an age to Henry and I, have Norman fathers, but English mothers.” Her words were meant to be happy, but she saw Raynar's face become dark with painful memories. "Oh Raynar, it wasn't your fault that so many rich English widows were raped into betrothal. You did all you could. And it wasn't your fault that so many of the English children of those widows met with fatal accidents.
Anyway, in the way of sons everywhere, these half-English sons are rebelling against their Norman fathers, and they are doing so by adopting their mother's English ways. You saw them at my coronation. They wear their hair and beards long in the English way, and wear English style clothes. My court would be both English and Norman, and I would encourage both languages.” Her face lit up. "There will be many looking for spouses. Oh, the matchmaking I could do. Perfect."
Actually, he and Henry had never spoken of these things. What they had spoken of is how much safer his family would be in London, where the folk loved the Queen. Much safer than here in Winchester, where the old barons hated her. So be it. It would be Edith's court. Let her design and organize it. Suddenly she was on her feet and pulling him off his soft pillows.
"Come, let's go to the tower to watch the sunset. Perhaps we will see Mary and the rest from there. I can't wait to tell them this news. This is wonderful news. London is so much closer to all of their homes than is Winchester. I will see more of them, and that cannot be a bad thing. And I will see more of you. And there are ships that regularly sail between London and Scotland so David will come more quickly."
* * * * *
The endless stairs up to t
he platform of the watch tower were agony for Raynar. For a couple of hours his legs had been allowed to relax, but in doing so had stiffened, and now every muscle was complaining about the long ride from Cornwall. Edith, on the other hand, was skipping up them. She was a vision in silk. A brocade silk cloak of deep maroon, a white silk scarf, a yellow silk gown, and even occasionally a glimpse of the pale, natural silk she wore under it all when she lifted her skirts to climb the steps.
From their first step onto the watch platform, it was obvious that there would be no sunset. There were clouds from horizon to horizon. Edith leaned over the low wall at the corner and looked down at the street scenes searching for her friends. "Oh dear,” she said over and over.
He moved to be next to her, and leaned over the wall to see what she was watching. "What do you see, love."
"Poverty,” she moaned. "Every day there are more beggars coming here from the villages. That bloody storm. It will be a hungry winter. It saddens me."
"It saddens you,” he whispered, "yet the silk of your gown would pay to feed a dozen villages through the winter."
"Save your sarcasm, Ray,” she replied, "They cannot eat silk, and the problem is not that I refuse to feed them, but that food is already running out in the villages before winter has even begun."
"When you move your court to Westminster, you can give away the winter stores that this palace will no longer need."
"I would rather there were food in their villages now,” she replied, "so that they stay there. The streets of a city are an evil place for peasants with no coin. Country folk never seem to understand that you need coin to live in a city. Everything is by coin."
"Umm, you do realize,” Raynar's tone was gentle, "that their land lords sell their food to the city for coin, so their fancy women can use the coin to buy silk to wear to the palace."
She gave him a hard stare, turned in silence, and stomped away from him and down the steps. It was lucky for the steps that she wasn't wearing armoured boots else they would have been splintered under her heavy feet.
"Edith, wait,” he called after her, and tried to catch her up, but his legs were having none of it. They had stiffened up and going down was much worse than coming up. He could barely hobble down the steps after her.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Queens and Widows by Skye Smith
Chapter 18 - The Queen rules in Winchester in October 1103
The word spread quickly through the great hall of the palace that the Queen was about to make her entrance, and soon after that the day's court would begin. People, mostly lords and ladies, began to push into the hall, and press towards the raised platform with the single throne, the King's throne. Edith had ordered her own throne taken away. She was the regent now.
Raynar had been sitting on a pillow on a bench talking to the court clerks who were readying their quills on the long table that was in line with the front of the royal platform, but over to the side of the hall. As usual when he, a mere peasant, attended court he wore the robes of a senior treasury agent. The robes allowed him the grudging politeness of the nobles, and the instant obedience of the king's men who served in the court, especially the guardsmen.
Though his robe was of finely woven wool, and of a pleasing robin's breast color, it looked poor in comparison to the clothes of the courtiers, both male and female. During the reign of the Conqueror, the men had begun competing with each other in the fineness and colourfulness of their clothes, though the women still wore drab and modest clothing in the way of his queen, Matilda and her churchly women.
During the reign of the unmarried William Rufus, as the trade routes to the Byzantine were opened wide by the Crusaders, and as the court of France under King Philippe was filled with young courtiers of fashion, the clothing of the English court changed radically. The men often appeared in court in dress armour, with colorful cloaks, while the women shed their drab robes and dressed in the finest of silk, and in seductive fashions more worthy of courtesans than wives.
So far in Henry's reign, armour had disappeared from court, and now the English courtiers were as sumptuously adorned as the Parisiennes. Lords and ladies wore their wealth to court, and men and women paraded about in silk and jewels and costly furs.
When the four nun-ish looking women entered the court dressed all in homespun as if this were Lent and as if they were on their way to church, they caused much comment. There were murmurs that their attire was not fit for court, and hisses that this was a great disrespect to the nobility who were present. Some nobles called to the guards to have the four removed for they obviously didn't belong, or at least that the clerk in charge of the entrance should interview them.
And then the murmours stopped and were replaced by a stony still silence in which you could have heard a rabbit fart. The four homespun women were the most powerful women in the country. Queen Edith, her sister Countess Mary of Boulogne, Countess Lucy of Bolingbroke and Chester, and Countess Maud of Northampton, Huntingdon, and Northumbria.
Edith looked with satisfaction at the effect of her entrance on the court, and then began the business of the day by reading out some proclamations. They had been dictated by Henry, and had been delivered by the Royal messengers who had accompanied Raynar on his long ride from Cornwall, but Edith now read them as if they were her words. While Henry was away, she, and no other, ruled this court.
The first proclamation was that Earl William Mortain of Cornwall had decided to flee to Normandy and exile, rather than to explain his treason to the court. The crown would manage his honours and his estates in trust for him until he chose to return. This was greeted with cheers and jeers but all were short-lived.
The second was that Duke Robert of Normandy had returned to his duchy, without claiming the 3,000 marks of tribute that was his due under the treaty of Alton. This was greeted with cheers as the lords now expected a rollback of the taxes that had been levied to raise the tribute.
The third was that it was a Royal priority to repair the damage done by the Saint Lawrence day storm to fishing boats and to roofs. To this end all trees blown down or otherwise fatally damaged in the Royal forests could now be harvested at no cost, with the first selection of the resulting wood to be given to those fixing boats and ships.
The fourth was an order to all Royal Commanders, Sheriffs, and administrators to respond favourably to any plea for labour to help with the repairs, by providing men from the army, and those builders already working on crown projects.
The fifth was that taxes levied to pay the tribute to the duke would remain owed, but could be kept back in the parishes in the form of the best seed corn and the best breeding female sheep and cattle in local sheriffs barns and church tithe barns in case they are needed for spring plantings in the surrounding parishes.
In explanation she told them all that Devonshire and Cornwall had suffered even greater than had Hampshire from the great storm, and the damage had been made worse from the marching of armies. She told them that the king would be spending the winter in the West Country enforcing a peace and encouraging the rebuilding. He would also be visiting Wales on a political mission to ensure that the Welsh would keep the peace along the border.
When Edith was finished with her proclamations, she adjourned the court temporarily so that the lords could discuss her words amongst themselves. She and her countesses rose as one and left the hall, and Raynar followed them.
Edith saw him enter the Royal retiring room, and pulled him to one side, and stared at him, and said quietly, "Well, what do you think my lords will do now?"
"Your verbal messages were clear enough,” Raynar replied, "but perhaps you should send Lucy and Maud out into the audience so that the women there can question them about the non-verbal message of your convent robes. Hopefully that will send all the women off in search of homespun."
"I am so nervous. These will be the first proclamations sealed in my name."
"Your seal is not enough,” he
came close and whispered. "You must exercise your power as queen in front of all the old lords. We must cross our fingers and hope that we have a thick headed male bull amongst the lords today."
"That is not likely. Most of them have come to plead poverty and beg relief from taxes. I have already given that permission, so long as it is kept in reserve as seed corn. Besides, no one dressed in silk would be so foolish as to plead poverty to a queen who is dressed in homespun."
"Hmmm,” he whispered, "then perhaps when you return you should make another proclamation. One on behalf of your sheriffs and treasury agents.” He moved over to a writing table and began to scribble in large clear letters, and when finished he came back to her and had her read his words to herself.
"I have written it in English,” he whispered, "so that when you translate it to French for the telling, it will be in your words, not mine."
She read it carefully twice, and committed it to memory. "Oh, Ray, you are naughty."
"Naughty? It seems perfectly logical to me."
* * * * *
When Edith returned to the great hall and motioned the court into session again, she noticed that the hall was now mostly male. The women had fled the hall with fears that it may be said that their fine clothes had upstaged the queen.
"Are there any comments about my proclamations?” she asked. A court clerk yelled this out the expected three times on her behalf, but no one came forward. It was all unexpectedly good news for the land lords and they were well pleased. She walked over to the Latin legal scroll that had been prepared, and she signed it and sealed her signature with her signet ring and then beamed at Raynar.
Though the signet ring had been given to her by Raynar, it had once been her aunt Cristina's, a gift from her grandfather while they were still in exile in Hungary. Over the years it had been worn by Raynar's old friend Hereward, and by her uncle Edgar Aetheling. The seal was Cristina's version of the Aetheling family crest.
Raynar raised his own ring to her in salute. He still wore her mother Margaret's signet ring from Hungary, although with his, the gold band had been replaced with a simple seaman's bog iron band. Hers was still all gold. It was fitting that this ring would seal her first court proclamations. And this was just the beginning.
