His chin jutted forward in righteous indignation before he continued. ‘I have seen much death in battle, Madam, but in Gruffydd’s Wales, I have seen things done unto his own people such as I never wish to see again.’
Flustered, I sat down and got up again, walked a short distance away and then the same distance back to face him again.
‘You mistake me, Lord,’ I said, turning from him to look deep into the flaming hearth, ‘I have more cause to hate Gruffydd than you can ever know, if I were to come upon you with your sword raised o’er his head ready to make the killing blow, I should take the weapon from you only to make the final strike myself.’
Harold raised his brows questioningly, while I continued.
‘I will do nothing to prevent you in your campaign against Gruffydd and you have my blessing. But I do protest most strongly, Lord, if you ride against the people of Wales and against my children who are even now in their father’s custody in Snowdonia.’
‘Your children?’
‘My sons, Idwal and Maredudd are in Gruffydd’s keeping. Deal with him as you will, My Lord, but bring my boys back safe to me.’
I asked Æthel to draw me a bath, unusual in winter, but my body felt bruised and battered after my adventures and I felt the need to freshen myself before I met with the Saxon king. Muttering of the strange heathen ways of the Welsh, the women brought jug after jug of hot water and began to fill the tub. The shutters were closed, the torches lit and the fire in the hearth was built up high. Stripped of my clothes, I lowered my body into the steaming waters and lay back, letting the warmth ease away the worst of my anguish. Æthel and Mary scattered dried flowers and herbs into the water, the aromatic mist swirling about the room, lifting our mood a little.
‘Well, I’ve never, in all my days, known a lady take a bath in January,’ commented Æthel as she poured a jug of water over me and began to scrub my back. ‘You are never intending to do your hair as well, Lady, surely. You will take a chill and die, you just mark my words.’
‘Just look at it, Æthel, I cannot greet the king with hair like straw. I will not come to harm; in Wales they bathe in the rivers and sea when the weather is clement.’
Æthel snorted.
‘Yes, well I can believe that but you are not Welsh are you? I suppose my grandmother was right when she said that if you lie down with dogs you get up with fleas.’
I laughed, my first since goodness knows when.
‘Do you not know any Welsh folk, Æthel? They are not heathens at all. Some of their habits and traditions are different to ours but, most of them are good, honest sorts.’
Æthel snorted, her expression disbelieving.
‘I suppose there must be some good Welshmen, Lady, but I can’t say as I’ve ever met one and, if you want my advice, I’d keep your good opinion of ‘em to yourself when you have audience with the King. You’d do well to remember you are a Saxon lady now and try to put off all the Welsh ways you have acquired.’
Shaking out a sage green gown, Æthel turned to where I sat drying before the fire. ‘Is this one to your liking, Lady?’
‘That will do, Æthel, thank you,’ I replied, unconcerned that it looked a little short. Rising, and letting the towel drop, she helped me into it, lacing the ties and fastening the shoulder clasps. The sleeves were a little on the short side and my slippers were clearly visible but it would do. When the veil was placed on my braided hair, I hugged Nest, promising to return shortly, and followed my escort to the king’s chamber.
King Edward was bent over state papers, he looked up, ‘Ah,’ he said, his voice thin and nasal, ‘the Lady Eadgyth, do come in.’
I curtsied but to not too low, I was, after all, still Queen of Wales.
‘Glad to have you come safely out of Wales, my dear. Since young Edwin’s assumption of your father’s lands, your brothers have been most concerned for your welfare. You are a lucky woman to have such loving siblings.’
‘Yes, Sire,’ I replied, thinking that there was probably a more mercenary reason for their solicitude. ‘Earl Harold was speaking to me last evening of his plan to track my Lord husband down and take control of his domains.’
Edward stood up and began to pace the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. He was not as tall as he first appeared, his extreme slenderness making him seem loftier than he was. He turned to me, a hand to his once yellow beard; his eyes were rhuemy and, with some surprise, I realised he was ailing.
‘Yes, he is very determined to end the strife that Wales presents,’ he confessed, ‘Gruffydd swore fealty to me not two years since, yet, as soon as he was safe back in his dominions, he continued to ravage the borderlands. I cannot have it, Eadgyth, I cannot have it at all.’
As he spoke he did not meet my eye and I found myself distrusting the shiftiness of his manner. He did not act like a king should and I remembered Gruffydd accusing him of letting others do his dirty business for him, a thing that my husband, for all his faults, could never be accused of.
‘When is the proposed attack likely to take place?’ I asked, accompanying him as he resumed his pacing of the hall. He stopped abruptly and I pulled up beside him.
‘You can be sure that it will be soon, my dear, but I do not propose to impart the detail to you, who may yet prove to be a traitor.’
Dumbfounded, I could not help the impatience that crept into my voice;
‘It seems whatever I do I will be deemed a traitor by someone. My Welsh kin will no doubt see my disappearance as betrayal and, should I decide to return home to Cymru, then my Saxon kin will brand me turncoat also. Seems my situation is one I cannot win.’
‘Quite,’ he replied, ‘so my advice to you is to stay here and keep out of trouble until the deed be done. Your brothers are occupied on state business at the moment but will, no doubt, ride in for you as soon as they may.’
He waved me away with a limp hand but I stayed where I was.
‘There is the matter of my sons, Sire, that I wished to discuss with you’
‘Ah yes, Earl Harold told me of Gruffydd’s sons. You expect me to redeem them and turn them over to you do you not? Tell me, Lady,’ he asked, pressing his fingertips together, ‘how do you expect me to believe that they will not present some future threat to this country’s security? If ‘t were the other way about I have no doubt Gruffydd would not hesitate to have my own sons, had I any, destroyed as one would dispatch vipers in a nest.’
My mouth opened and shut as I fumbled for a persuasive answer, then, careful not to offend his fragile ego, I said,
‘Sire, if my sons were raised in the Saxon court they would, in time, prove most desirable rulers of Wales for you. They could learn, under your leadership, the importance of peace between the two nations and under your combined rule England and Wales could become, at last, united.’
Edward regarded me from beneath greying brows.
‘Hmm, whoever it was that said women lacked a man’s capacity for policy obviously had not met you. Now, go away and leave me think on this, I will no doubt see you in a day or two.’
Turning his back on me, I bowed my head and left his chamber but, once outside the door, fear for my sons grew so strong that I lay back against it with my heart banging in my ribcage and sweat breaking out on my forehead.
A few days later I was summoned to the queen’s presence. I donned the best of the gowns she had gifted me and, bracing my shoulders, took my place at the door of her bower. A faint voice summoned me in and, lifting the latch, I walked into the hall. She was not alone, the room was littered with elegant hangers on.
‘Eadgyth, darling.’ cried the queen bearing down upon me. ‘You poor thing. My brother has told me all about it. You are quite a heroine. I for one could never have borne such indignity … but then I suspect you must be used to such inconveniences in Wales. Mind you, you couldn’t have wished for a more handsome redeemer, could you?’
I glanced from her to Harold, mentally reminding myself that he was the queen’s broth
er. Old Godwin, in offering his daughter to Edward, had made it an offer the king could not refuse. Now, as she made it clear to all assembled that I was to be a favourite of England’s queen, her voice was loaded with insincerity. Pulling back and bestowing a sympathetic grimace, she linked her arm in mine and led me about the hall. It was crowded with curious onlookers and Edith, dressed in her best, played to the crowd. The reason for such favouritism escaped me and I waited with baited breath to learn of it.
Harold and the king were engaged in their own conversation and Edward paid us little mind but I could feel Harold’s eyes follow us about the room.
‘My brother is so very striking, don’t you think?’ rattled the queen, ‘Of all my brothers he is by far the best looking although they are all fine specimens. Leofwine and Gyrth, for all their Viking looks, somehow fall short and Tostig, have you met Tostig? He is my favourite brother but far too pretty for my liking. Harold, however, is everything a man should be, do you not agree?’
‘I’m sure I do, Madam,’ I replied, ‘although, ‘til now, I have given the matter little thought.’
Her laugh rang out, startling those closest to us, heads turned in our direction to see what was so amusing their queen.
‘I cannot believe, Eadgyth, that a midnight rescue by a man like Harold can have had no effect upon you, why a nun could not fail to notice his most masculine attractions.’
Harold was watching us from the other side of the room with a smirk on his lips, he raised an eyebrow at me but I turned away, refusing to acknowledge him.
‘My mind has been distracted with thoughts of my sons Madam, whose lives, as I’m sure you know, are in grave danger.’
She sobered slightly, ‘Oh yes, your sons. I had heard something. I, of course, have no sons Eadgyth, and so I must envy you twice; once for your dashing rescue and once for the luxury of motherhood.’
Edith and Edward had produced no heir for England, a lack that could not fail to ignite the imagination of the court gossips. Various explanations were bandied about; some believed that Edith was barren and should, therefore, have been put aside years ago in favour of a younger, more fertile wife. Edward declined to do so and his lack of action prompted the less charitable of his subjects to suspect the nature of his sexual preference.
The official story was that the king’s devout nature precluded carnal relations of any sort and so he had taken an oath of celibacy but, wherever he went, he was trailed by a group of sycophantic young males, all bickering hopefully among themselves and vying for the king’s favour. Whether the king had any idea as to their intention is a matter for debate.
We strolled about the hall together with a group of the queen’s ladies in our wake.
‘Tell me, Eadgyth, would you care to join my ladies in waiting? I know you are without proper support while you await the arrival of your brothers and Edward and I thought you could join my household. Keep you out of trouble, so to speak …’ she said, patting my wrist.
I could not, of course, refuse for she was right, I had no support and even my social status was questionable. I did not know if I were still a queen, or wed or widowed. I also knew that if I became her lady in waiting we would no longer be of equal status; I would be in her service. But, finding myself trapped, I took a deep breath and gave the answer I knew she required.
‘Twould be an honour, Madam, I thank you. I will be glad to be of service to you, at least until my brothers or my husband come to take me away.’
‘Marvellous.’ she cried, clapping her hands together, making her jewelled bangles rattle. ‘Edward. Harold. Eadgyth agrees to join my happy little household.’ Beaming upon the company, she gabbled on, making plans and issuing orders for my meagre possessions to be moved to her apartments.
Nesta had learned to pull herself up on the furniture and one afternoon she crawled across the floor and pulled herself up on the queen’s chair. Smacking her little hand on the velveted royal knee, she gurgled up at Edith in a friendly manner. The queen drew back.
‘What does she want, Eadgyth?’ she asked, her voice shrill with uncertainty.
‘Attention, Madam, she craves attention like a pig craves his swill,’ answered Æthel, sweeping Nest into her arms. I watched them from my seat at the hearthside; the queen was looking at Nest with a curious mix of longing and repugnance.
‘Would you like to hold her on your knee, Madam?’ I asked spontaneously.
Edith hesitated, ‘I don’t know, Eadgyth, babies are an enigma to me. How do I do it?’ she asked. I got up and took the babe from Æthel’s arms and placed her on the queen’s knee. Edith placed tentative hands on the child and risked a small smile.
‘There,’ she said, ‘we are quite comfy are we not, Nest?’ although she did not sound it. Nest gurgled up at her, a trickle of dribble on her chin. She waved her arms up and down, smiling at the company while the ageing queen sat transfixed as though the jewel she held was priceless …which of course she was.
The chamber door creaked open and Harold poked his head round, seeing us gathered at the fire he came in and joined us.
‘Well, well, Edith, ‘tis an unusual diversion for you. Hello Nest,’ he said, crouching down and taking the child’s hand and pumping her arm up and down.
‘Teething I see,’ he said, indicating the dribble, ‘have you sent to the still room for some salve?’
I raised my eyebrows at his parenting skill.
‘She makes no complaint, Lord, she is blessed with a happy soul and nothing seems to dent it, not even pain …or peril.’
‘Aye, she was quiet on our journey was she not? My own whelps are a different kettle of fish I can tell you. When young Gyrth was in tooth he wailed so much I wanted to throw him from the nearest window.’
A titter of laughter ran about the room. ‘Seven I have, four boys and three girls, each and every one of them a monster.’ he declared.
‘And each and every one a bastard too,’ pouted the queen, ‘tis time you forgot that commoner you are hand-fasted with and sought yourself a proper wife.’
‘Edith.’ Harold remonstrated, ‘we have been through this. Eadgytha serves me well; ‘tis nigh on twenty years she has been my mistress and never once have you shown her a friendly face.’
The queen’s pursed lips confirmed her age, a small frown marring the royal brow.
‘tis unseemly. You should think of your family and marry well, there’s no profit clinging to the old Scandinavian ways. Many a benefit comes with a wellborn woman.’
‘And many an earache too, I imagine.’ he cried, laughing expansively with the queen’s women. ‘Here, Edith, let me take the child before you drop her, look at how she has drooled all down the front of your gown.’
I blanched at the sight of the queen’s brocade tunic all daubed and despoiled with dribble.
Following my line of vision Edith looked down and shrugged, ‘I have other gowns,’ she said, her eyes following Nest as she was borne in Harold’s arms across the room.
Drinks were handed round and the company broke up into small groups. Seeking Harold, I stood before him trying not to let his personality distract me as it was want to do.
‘When do you ride again into Wales, Lord?’
He looked at me from the corner of his eye.
‘Straight to the point as ever, I see. Have you not discussed it with the queen?’
We both looked toward the queen who sat dabbing at the front of her gown with a kerchief.
‘Their highnesses are reluctant to speak politics with me. I have yet to prove myself a loyal Saxon.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Harold noncommittally, taking a large swig of his ale and sloshing it around his mouth. ‘I have been in conference with my brother, Tostig. You may have seen him about court, a pretty fellow, a favourite of the king. Anyway, we hope to launch the attack by the end of May, when our Welsh collaborators swear to turn Gruffydd over to us. There will be bloodshed, Lady, but I promise to have a care of your children.’
My he
art thumped, loud and slow, beneath my bodice,
‘And their nurses, Harold, they are my friends, one has been with me since childhood.’
‘…and their nurses. Tell me,’ he said quietly, leading me to a secluded corner, ‘how do you find my sister? Do you not find her unbearably shallow?’
I looked to where the queen sat, leaning forward to wave at Nesta on the other side of the hearth.
‘I find her sad, Lord. She seems without purpose, a situation apt to make the best of us seem shallow.’
‘tis just as well Edward can’t get it up, Edith would have made a terrible mother. Over indulgence breeds spoiled, insipid men and England can do without an heir like that.’
‘Can’t get it up?’ I mouthed, curiosity getting the best of me. It was a dangerous way even for a Godwin to talk about his king.
Tipping the dregs of his vessel into his throat, he swallowed audibly and wiped the froth onto his sleeve.
‘Oh yes, Edward is impotent, Edith told me years ago that he couldn’t manage it. No more potent than elderberry juice. It was me who came up with the notion of piety for him and he was glad enough to take the excuse. Truth be told, he can’t bear women. I blame his mother, Emma. She neglected him as a child and unmanned him as an adult. There’s usually a bad woman lurking behind a weak man.’
He fixed me with his blue eyes and I felt myself flushing. ‘And your mother I presume, my Lord, was irreproachable.’
‘Oh, damn yes. And she still is, Lady. Gytha, half Danish, sister in law to King Cnut. Marvellous woman, raised the lot of us and there’s not a Godwin alive you can’t call a man …even Tostig is like an angry bear on the battlefield.’
He strutted away and, open-mouthed, I watched him go, unbidden laughter fermenting in my stomach. I schooled my face to its usual sombre expression and turned to make conversation with the women.
Peaceweaver Page 11
