by Leila Snow
* * *
"What could have possessed him?" Lord Endle questioned the other knights of Madeline's guard. He grasped weakly at the chair in his solar. "I trusted him to spar with Lady Madeline. She gave me to believe it was the norm as she was growing up at Alwinsopp. Is that not so?" he asked, pinning Sir Hugh with a direct stare.
"Aye, it is my Lord. Twas commonplace. It was the Lady's father, Lord John himself, who commenced her training with Sir Nathaniel," Hugh admitted to the irate earl.
"Sir Nathaniel has not been himself since we arrived at Marbourne," Sir Gareth confided in Lord Endle. "We know not why. He has never been a man given to drink but he is seldom to be found without a wineskin in his hand these days."
"Mayhap he should be sent back to Alwinsopp if he cannot abide Marbourne so plainly," Lord Endle said, sitting heavily in his chair and running his hand over his face. "When I met him there I thought him to be a knight of the first order, uncommonly honourable and trustworthy. Was I mistaken?" he asked the two.
"Nay," they answered in unison.
"He is a good man," Sir Hugh continued. "I know not what has tipped his balance but it must be significant. He has ever been loyal to Lady Madeline, first and foremost. If I may be so bold, I would beg you to give him clemency."
Endle lifted his face from his hand and scrutinized the two stalwart knights who met his perusal with open and honest expressions. He sighed. "Very well. I will talk to him following the evening meal," he decided.
* * *
As it transpired, Lord Endle had no need to wait for Nathaniel's attendance upon him. Sir Nathaniel arrived, sheepishly downcast, just as the other members of his guard were leaving.
"Come in," Endle beckoned, standing up from his seat. He was breathing heavily and looked pale Nathaniel thought, feeling another wave of guilt. "I suppose I should give you a chance to explain yourself," the earl said evenly.
"I have no explanation my Lord," Nathaniel admitted, heavy-hearted. "There is no excuse. I have championed Lady Madeline every day of her life, until this day when I became the instrument of her pain." He balanced his sword across both palms and held it out to Madeline's husband. "I am not worthy of the title of knight and I beg you to relieve me of it. I will leave Marbourne immediately."
The earl sagged into his chair. He took a deep breath as he stared at Nathaniel. The knight stood repentant before the Lord's inspection, arms and sword still outstretched. Finally Lord Endle spoke, "Your fellow guards tell me of your loyalty to Lady Madeline, as did her father. I myself can see the good and honourable man that is at your core. Where has he gone these last weeks, I wonder?"
Nathaniel gaped open-mouthed at the dignified nobleman. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. He sank down onto his knees; guilt, grief, and self-loathing too heavy to bear upright any longer. "I have lost someone I can't bear to lose," he whispered.
His confession echoed in the bare chamber a long moment.
"In that case, I sympathize," the earl spoke heavily. "When I lost my first wife, I couldn't eat nor sleep, even to breathe seemed too much effort."
Nathaniel was struck by the man's comprehension.
Lord Endle continued, "Yet each day I awoke and somehow I did continue to breathe, and little by little I found I could bear the thought of living. And now, I have found a second chance at happiness. And so it will be for you. That is, if you do not destroy yourself first," he said compassionately. More firmly he added, "However, you will be relieved of your duties as Captain of Lady Madeline's guard until such time as I deem you fit to assume them again. Let us ensure that day comes."
Nathaniel nodded his agreement but wondered if such a thing was possible. Would he ever be able to bear the thought of living without Madeline?
Now I drink pain in every delight
And poison in every wine;
I never knew it would be so bitter
To be alone,
Alone, without you.
~ Hermann Hesse
CHAPTER 15
"I have appointed Sir Hugh to temporarily captain your guard," Lord Endle explained to Madeline the following morning as they lay in bed. "A disrespect, such as Sir Nathaniel displayed, cannot go unpunished."
She nodded morosely.
"From what you and others have told me, the boy is not inherently churlish but appears to be in turmoil," Endle continued pensively. "You've known him for many years, perhaps you can shed some light on his inner conflict."
Madeline shrugged. "I'm sure I have no idea, my Lord," she insisted.
"I believe it has to do with a woman. He said as much to me," her husband surmised, and Madeline looked up sharply. "Indeed, he said he has lost someone he cannot live without."
Madeline schooled her features and shook her head blandly, though her mind was racing and an invisible band constricted about her chest so tight she could barely breathe.
"Perhaps he had a love at Alwinsopp that we should bring here to Marbourne?" Endle asked, searching for answers.
Again she shook her head. "There was no one that I know of, husband," she choked out.
"Hmm," Endle tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I believe I will send for Geoffrey's sister. She is a novice with the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy. Her name is Aileth. She was a pretty child, somewhat pensive but always very sweet. She is called Sister Marie Augustine now, though she has not taken her vows and is yet a novice. She is a compassionate soul, very pious and devout. I believe she has also been trained in the art of healing by the nuns. Conceivably she can help our Sir Nathaniel and mayhap she can also offer me some relief from the ills that plague me. I will have Sir Nathaniel assigned to her and perhaps her godly piety will redeem him. When he has sufficiently proven himself, he will return to your guard. Do you support this endeavour, my dear?"
Madeline nodded mildly. "Let it be as you say, my Lord."
"Very good. I will pen the letter and have it sent now. The convent is not far. I will stress the urgency and she should arrive in two days."
She saw Endle wince as a pain struck him, and reached to soothe his brow. "Can I get you some wine, husband?" she enquired.
"Nay," he answered her. "T'will pass. I find I have not a thirst for wine these days," he said shaking his head. "There is yet one more item I must discuss with you before we commence the day. We received a messenger from the king last eve. He travels from York to Woodstock. The queen has gone on ahead to enjoy the respite of the countryside. Thus the king is travelling lightly and with haste. He has need of a place to rest his head and his horses for only two nights before they continue."
She sat up in bed. "When do they arrive, my Lord?" she asked anxiously.
"Ah, that is the issue, my dear, it is in three days time," he chuckled.
Madeline leapt from the bed and quickly moved to summon her maid, who seemed to be absent yet again. "I have no time to lay abed!" she exclaimed as she dashed about the bedchamber.
"Do not fret, my love," Endle comforted. "He is as a son to me. His father and I were very close as children. He is a good boy, though yet a king."
"Nevertheless, there is much to be done," she said as she pulled on a simple kirtle and wound her hair in a coronet atop her head. She hastily donned a veil and dashed from the bedchamber.
* * *
Madeline bustled about the keep throughout the day, overseeing the laying of fresh rushes and ensuring the kitchens were prepared for the feasting. When Endle arrived in the great hall some hours later, leaning heavily on his steward, she suggested that perhaps he have the knights arrange a small tournament for the king's entertainment. He agreed readily and summoned his castellan. After Endle had forced down a few bites of bread and given his directions for the tournament to the castellan, Madeline sent him back to bed.
"You will need all your energy for the next several days," she cajoled when he protested. "Rest whilst you can, my Lord."
Wearily, her husband complied and dragged himself back up the stairs. Madeline sent a servant
after him to see to his comfort and then busied herself with arranging for a chamber to be cleaned and readied for the king. It was the norm, for such an exalted guest, to give the great chamber in which she and Lord Endle slept, but considering her husband's health she was loath to disrupt him any further than necessary.
She spent the following day much the same as the one before, anxiously preparing for the arrival of the king and his retinue. By nightfall, she was exhausted and collapsed into bed beside Endle who was already softly snoring.
* * *
Two mornings later the dawn arrived crisp and clear. Madeline rose whilst Endle was still abed and quietly readied herself, before silently leaving the chamber. Immediately upon breaking her fast, she inspected the royal bedchamber, which had now been hung with fresh bed curtains and covered with clean linens sprinkled with fragrant herbs. The tapestries that kept the dampness at bay from the stone walls had been taken down and beaten to rid them of accumulated dust. Now brightened and refreshed, they had been re-hung. Fresh candles and torches had been placed in the iron receptacles fastened to the walls. A fire blazed hearthside and would be kept alight until the king's arrival, to ward off the chill of the early fall air. Content with the presentation of the chamber, Madeline exited the keep to oversee the harvesting of fresh herbs and vegetables from the gardens. Accomplishing that, she hastened to the storeroom and gathered armfuls of dried lavender to sprinkle amongst the reeds in the great hall. Engrossed in her task, she failed to notice when the woman entered the room, until a soft greeting reached her ears. She raised her gaze to meet that of a delicate young lady outfitted in a rough, grey undyed woollen habit. A simple, white linen wimple covered her hair, preventing Madeline from seeing its colour, and wrapped down concealing her slender neck.
"You must be the Lady Madeline," the diminutive woman smiled warmly.
"Indeed," Madeline responded in kind. "And you must be Lord Endle's niece and Geoffrey's sister."
"Sister Marie Augustine," Endle's niece replied, tipping her chin gracefully in the affirmative. "But as I am still a novice, I would favour that you call me Aileth," she expressed shyly. "My uncle writes me regularly, but I find that despite his glowing descriptions, he has not done your beauty justice, my Lady," the novice complimented sweetly, with a genuine air of deference.
"You are too kind, Aileth," Madeline smiled back at the young woman, of whom she believed she would soon grow fond. "Please, allow me to show you to your chamber. I expect you will want to rest. On the morrow, the honour of the king's presence at Marbourne will be bestowed upon us."
"Nay, my Lady," Endle's charming niece begged graciously. "I could never rest knowing how much travail is entailed with a visit from the king. Allow me to assist you in whatever needs doing."
Madeline beamed at her. "Very well then, niece. Let us enchant the king with our abilities." And she linked her arm through that of Aileth and led her from the hall.
* * *
The next day, the king arrived shortly after the midday meal. As Endle had said, he travelled with only a small party. Nevertheless, the great hall was filled to overflowing with his knights, retainers, and the nobles who accompanied him.
Madeline was aware that the king was yet young, only a year or so older than herself, though she hadn't been prepared for such a handsome man. He was quite tall and broad, an air of good-natured cheerfulness hung about him. His dark hair curled down to his shoulders, accentuating a strong jawline. He grasped her hand, raising her from her knees, and held it firmly within his grip. His warm brown eyes had flickered with a sensual admiration as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. She felt a faint tingling as she drew it back.
"Lord Endle," the king said in a deep voice, "You are wise to keep your beautiful new wife to yourself this last month or so," he chuckled, his sonorous voice filling the space.
Endle smiled devotedly at Madeline. "I find I am jealous of her attention, sire."
"No doubt, no doubt," the king agreed, contemplating Madeline merrily.
"Allow me to also introduce my nephew, Lord Geoffrey, and his sibling, Sister Marie Augustine." The king gave the appropriate greetings but his attention was distracted by the minstrels who played in the hall.
"If I recall from when I was a boy, dear Endle," he reminisced, "You always had the most talented musicians. I intend to enjoy them for the short time I'm here. Perhaps we may have some dancing after the evening meal?"
"Indeed, we shall," Lord Endle acceded readily. "Now, if you desire, the Lady Madeline will show you to the chambers we have prepared, so that you may refresh yourself and rest."
The king tipped his head and Madeline led the way up the circular steps to the king's chamber. She opened the door and stepped inside, allowing the king to sweep past her as he entered. His bold eyes swept the room summarily then returned to her.
"It is more than adequate," he commended with a small smile tipping the corner of his mouth.
"If there is anything we can provide, sire," Madeline extended their hospitality.
The king's sensuous contemplation wandered languidly over her. And Madeline felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stood still before his scrutiny.
"Verily, I will heed your offer my lady," he agreed, his eyes twinkling in jest. "I beg you to do me the honour of calling me Edward," he added.
"As you wish, Edward," Madeline bobbed into a curtsey before she backed from the room.
* * *
Madeline was satisfied by the evening meal. It was a lavish feast resplendent with an endless parade of sweet and savoury dishes. The king exclaimed over each one and ate lustily. She noticed that once again, Nathaniel was absent, but it was such a common state of affairs lately that she didn't dwell on it. Furthermore, her attention and conversation were occupied by the king as witty banter flowed between them. Lord Endle seemed content not to participate extensively in their discourse and Madeline noticed with concern his awful pallor.
"Let us dance," Edward announced as he popped a fig in his mouth and held out his hand to Madeline.
She looked to Lord Endle for his approval and was dismayed to see beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Lowering her head to his, she enquired softly, "Have you need of your bed, husband?"
He shook his head slightly and gave her a weary smile. "Nay, my dear, I will enjoy watching you dance with our liege."
She sent him a look of worry but nodded and put her hand in the king's proffered one. He led her from the dais, to the centre of the floor where the trestle tables had been cleared. Releasing her hand, he spun to face her, waiting expectantly for the minstrels to begin the Estampie. As the first notes of music warbled from the musician’s instruments, the king extended one muscular, silk-encased leg and bowed to her. Madeline dropped into a curtsey before they both rose up and clapped their hands. A step back and a step forward and she once again laid her hand against the warmth of the king's. He winked and smiled intimately at her as they moved into the intricate steps of the dance, his hand often pressing a little too firmly against hers and his hot gaze conveying his hedonistic musings.
Madeline was grateful and flustered when the dance was finally finished.
"You dance with grace and elegance," Edward praised her. "You would be a delightful addition to court. I must speak to Lord Endle about joining the court for the winter months."
"My heart is warmed by your kind flattery, sire," Madeline responded, though a sudden commotion from the dais prevented any further comment. She turned in horror to see Endle topple limply from his seat.
"Endle!" she shrieked as she ran to him. Ordering servants away, she knelt alongside him. He lay on the floor, his eyes open and slowly regaining their focus. "We must get you to your bed," Madeline concluded. She raised a hand to summon the chamberlain and steward who were hovering nearby. "Gently lift the earl and help him to his chamber," she directed briskly. To a nearby servant, she ordered, "Fetch a bowl of bone broth from the kitchens and bring it to the Lord's chambe
rs immediately."
She stroked Endle's hair from his forehead. "We must focus on your health, dear husband," she uttered softly. "Have you eaten at all today?"
The earl shook his head and tried to rise. "I am fine now, though I believe I will retire if it does not displease the king."
"As you should," Edward agreed as he neared them. "I bid you a good night's rest, my dear Lord Endle." He had a worried frown upon his royal visage.
* * *
When Madeline had overseen Endle tucked into bed and given a cup of warm bone broth, she again descended to the great hall. A pall hung over the assembled company, and though the minstrels continued to play, no one danced. The king sat at the high table, alone, a goblet of wine held in his hand. He looked up as she approached.
"How long has he been ill?" he asked heavily.
Madeline took her seat beside him. "Since shortly after our wedding, sire," she responded sadly. "He is a good man and doesn't deserve such suffering."
"You speak the truth," Edward agreed. "He and my father were fast friends. Lord Endle was loyal to him to the very end. He was one of very few people who were," he confided.
Madeline nodded and beckoned to a servant to bring another goblet of wine.
"Given the state of affairs, I must insist that you and Lord Endle join the court at Woodstock Palace. The royal physicians are present already as the queen was of the opinion before they left York that she is with child again."
"Congratulations, sire," she responded as a matter of course.
"I say this, not for congratulations but in the hopes that the physicians can return Lord Endle to his former strength."
"You are too kind, my liege," Madeline said appreciatively.
"It is Edward," he reminded her with a grin. "Now then, it is settled. You will join us at Woodstock as soon as you are able to put things in order here at Marbourne."
