by Jo Beverley
Madeleine looked around and realized people were leaving the hall. “Oh, Jesu.”
“I think that’s the least of our problems. Our excuse is that you were not feeling well. I’ll escort you to our chamber, then I’ll go and see to the corpse.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
After a look at his face, she accepted it and let him steer her gently up to their room. Occasionally he gave a word of explanation to someone, that she was sick.
Madeleine felt strangely apart from everything, as if she were made of mist. It wouldn’t surprise her to be invisible. She looked at her hand and was astonished that it still looked solid and strong.
He sat her on the bed and poured wine for her, forced her to drink it. She came back to reality, and misery.
“They’ll burn me,” she said.
“Not unless you’re married to him,” he responded, almost as if he was finding the situation amusing. “Tell me exactly where you left the body.”
She described it. “What will you do?”
“Get the knife. Once that’s gone, there’s nothing to connect him to you.” He kissed her gently, then shook his head. “One day I’d like to make slow, beautiful love to you in a bed, Madeleine.”
“I’m a murderess,” she protested.
He grinned. “I’m coming to like the thought that you killed for me, love.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He stopped and returned to grasp her chin. “You are not, under any circumstances, to confess your sin while I’m gone. Do you understand?”
She thought of arguing. She needed to tell the world of her wickedness, to be punished and absolved. But she nodded.
Once he had gone, she lay back on the bed. Fight it as she would, the memory of Hengar’s death throes haunted her. He had been a horrible man, but that gave her no right to kill him, not even to save her husband.
Then she thought of that ferocious lovemaking and pressed her hands to her face. It had been as if she were possessed by devils. And he was disgusted with her. He wanted ordinary, orderly lovemaking, and she forced him to that.
The queen came to see her. Matilda was not angry at their absence, but roguish. “I send your husband to find you and lose the pair of you. Do you intend to feed on love?”
Madeleine knew her burning face told all. “I beg pardon, Your Majesty.”
Matilda chuckled. “What it is to be young and lusty. I will have some food sent to you. You obviously need your strength. Where is Aimery?”
Madeleine swallowed. “He had to go and check on one of the horses.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back right speedily, so I will leave you in peace.”
The food came, but Madeleine could not face it, though she drank steadily of the wine. Dorothy and Thierry both came to see if they were needed and were sent away.
At last Aimery returned. “We have a problem.”
Madeleine sat up. “Someone found the body?”
He nodded. “Yes. And the knife was already gone.”
Chapter 20
Madeleine stared at him. “But it was fixed tight in the bone!”
“A stable groom found the corpse, and he swears there was no weapon. I can see no reason for him to lie.”
“What will happen now?”
“The sheriff is looking into matters. I identified Hengar—it would be suspicious if I didn’t—but said he had no business here. Did anyone see you in the stables?”
She shook her head. “No . . . at least, I don’t think so . . . I wasn’t trying to hide . . .” Her teeth were chattering.
He came to sit on the bed and took her twisting hands. “Except from me. Don’t fret, Madeleine. If they bring it all back to you, you must simply say he attacked you.”
She pulled her hands free, remembering that this was all his fault. His treason. His adultery with Hengar’s wife. “A lie? You don’t like lies.”
“True enough, but is it a lie?”
Madeleine shuddered. “He attacked me, but only because I said I’d tell all Baddersley what he intended. And what he intended was a loyal act!”
“What he intended was petty spite,” Aimery said levelly. “Hengar is no lover of Normans.”
Madeleine glared up at him. “Was. And you know a lot about him, don’t you? If he was spiteful, it was because you can’t keep your hands off Aldreda! For that you’ve dragged me down into treason with you.”
He stood up sharply. “I haven’t dragged you anywhere, woman. Next you’ll be claiming I raped you this evening, when if anything, it was the other way around.”
Madeleine hid her face. “Don’t. I can’t bear the thought!”
Why, she thought, were they squabbling when they were finally bound together, even if it was only in evil? She heard the door close and looked up to see he was gone. Madeleine shivered as if an icy wind had cut through her.
What was to become of them? What of her vow? She supposed it still stood, but in their present situation it had no meaning. He didn’t need to seduce her into loyalty, for he now knew she was loyal to him to death and beyond.
He had said he would not lie with her if she did not trust him, but lust had overcome him. She felt the same way. More than ever she needed to join with him, as the only solid point in a quicksand world, but what kind of loving would come, she wondered, from such poisoned ground? More of that mindlessly violent rutting? She had needed it then, but now she cringed at the memory of her behavior. He said it had been like a rape, and he was right. Pray God she had not conceived a child in such a way.
There was a bath house in the castle, and Madeleine sought it out. The woman there filled a curtained tub with hot water, and Madeleine scrubbed herself fiercely, scrubbing away the memory of blood, the smell of sex, scrubbing until she was red and sore as tears washed down her face.
“Lady Madeleine.” It was the voice of the bath woman.
“Yes?”
“The queen has sent for you.”
Madeleine froze. Had it all come out already? She stilled the sudden tremble in her hands. So be it. She must try her best to keep Aimery out of it, for he was the one in real danger. She could easily say that Hengar had attacked her, and all would be well as long as no one looked too closely at his motives. She realized the most compromising feature was that she had not reported the attack.
She climbed out of the tub and accepted the drying-cloth. It would be easier if she had to face William, for she could pretend to be a gentle maiden overwhelmed by violence. She suspected Matilda would dismiss such an explanation.
Madeleine hurried to the queen’s chamber. She was admitted and found Matilda in bed, and Aimery already in attendance. He smiled at her, but Madeleine couldn’t tell if it was a feigned smile, or genuine reassurance.
“Madeleine,” said the queen. “You have heard of this foul deed?”
Madeleine had to think quickly as to whether she should have heard. Heavens, she was no good at this sort of thing. “Yes, Your Majesty. I have no idea what the man could have been doing here.”
“Nor has anyone,” said Matilda. Madeleine could tell the queen was tired and out of patience. “It would have been more fitting for you to concern yourself over your forester than to go off to enjoy a bath!”
Madeleine colored. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t think there was anything I could do.”
“I forbade her,” said Aimery smoothly. “She was not feeling well. We think she may be with child.”
Madeleine flashed him a startled look before hiding her surprise. It was a clever thing to say. It distracted Matilda and gained her sympathy.
“Good news,” the queen declared, then winced. “Though whether you’ll think so in seven months or so is another matter.” She rubbed her side. “This child is kicking my ribs to bits.” She frowned thoughtfully, then nodded. “We must leave the matter in the hands of the sheriff then, and hope this death is not connected with our train. Take her away, Aimery, and care for her
. Perhaps she should not ride.”
Madeleine spoke up quickly. “I feel less sick when I ride, Your Majesty.”
Matilda snorted. “So you don’t like litters either. Go along with you.”
Madeleine and Aimery said nothing until they were safe in their room.
“That was very clever,” said Madeleine.
He shrugged. “It could be true. If not, such mistakes are easily made.”
Madeleine felt bone weary. She rubbed her arms, though the night was warm. “Will it be all right? What if someone saw me there?”
He came and gathered her into his arms. “It will be all right. If your part comes out, we’ll say he attacked you. If anyone contends it, I’ll make a court duel of it.”
“No! You can’t risk your life for me.”
“That’s my duty as your husband.” He grinned cockily. “Anyway, I’d win.”
“But your cause would be unjust. The hand of God would be against you.”
He sobered at that but shrugged. “Then that would be my wyrd.”
“Curse your foolish wyrd.” Madeleine shoved him away. “If only I hadn’t gone to the stables.”
“If only I hadn’t tried to force you. But if you want to look for God’s hand in this, look there. If you hadn’t gone to the stables, Hengar would doubtless have found a more sympathetic ear, and I could even now be in chains awaiting William’s judgment.”
Madeleine looked at him. “I know. I didn’t intend to kill him, but I think I would have driven the blade in deliberately if that was the only way of stopping him.”
“I know. That’s why I’ll pledge my life to save your honor.”
“But I’m damned. In intent, at least, I committed a terrible sin, and I can’t repent!”
He shook his head. “Don’t, Madeleine. We all kill if we have to. He was your enemy as surely as if he had faced you armed on a battlefield, and you cut him down. If that’s a damning sin, then heaven is going to be thinly populated. Get into bed before you collapse.”
Wearily, Madeleine obeyed. “But what of the knife?”
“That’s the interesting question, isn’t it?” he said as he joined her. “Perhaps it was just filched by a petty thief. It was a valuable enough piece.”
“Maybe,” said Madeleine, “but it feels more like the sword of Damocles.”
He took her hand. “I won’t let it fall on you. Trust me, Madeleine.”
Trust, ah trust. “I’ll try,” she said, and let sleep take her.
Madeleine woke late and weary, for her sleep had been fragmented by tortured dreams. Sometimes she had been plunging the knife into Hengar, sometimes into Aimery. Once, at least, it had been a weapon aimed at her own heart. Dorothy’s voice shocked her awake, and Madeleine immediately looked at her hands, expecting to see them covered with blood.
“Are you all right, Lady?” Dorothy hovered anxiously.
“Yes, yes,” said Madeleine, sitting up. “I just had a restless night. What hour is it?”
“Eight, Lady. Lord Aimery said you should sleep, but now there’s little time. I brought you some food.”
Madeleine looked at the cold fish and ale, and her stomach rebelled. “I’d rather have some plain bread and mead. Fetch me some, Dorothy. I can dress myself.”
Madeleine saw from the look the woman flashed at her that the rumor of her pregnancy was already flying around the hall and had now been confirmed. Well, as Aimery said, it could be true.
She was dressed by the time Dorothy returned. Madeleine forced down some of the bread and mead, then left her woman to complete the packing and supervise the men who would load their goods into the carts. She knew what she must do. She went to seek out the sheriff.
The portly man was English, and she sensed his reverence for Normans was only superficial. A few minutes’ talk with him, however, made it clear he had no suspicion of complex causes behind Hengar’s death.
“Perhaps some personal feud, Lady Madeleine. Perhaps even theft, for he had no purse on him. I intend to ride over to Baddersley today with the body to break the news to his widow and see what can be learned.” He winked. “I have found these cases often come back to the marriage bed.”
Madeleine knew she’d started. Would stories of Aimery and Aldreda be circulating in Baddersley? She looked at the man in alarm, wondering if she’d just given herself away.
He was red-faced. “I beg pardon, Lady,” he said hurriedly. “I shouldn’t have mentioned such matters, you being young and convent-bred.”
“No matter,” Madeleine said. “Please do your best to find the culprit, but tell Hengar’s wife that she need not vacate the forester’s cottage, and if the matter is not settled soon, I will pay the wergild.”
The man bowed. “You are gracious and generous, Lady. I will tell her.”
Madeleine left the interview shaken, but she knew it had been essential. It would raise suspicion if she was not to inquire about murder in her own manor. A short while later she rode out of Huntingdon, struggling to put the whole incident behind her.
During that day’s ride, Aimery stopped by her side frequently to offer support. Madeleine found on the whole that this merely interfered with her efforts to block Hengar’s death from her mind. In the end she bluntly told him to leave her be.
The trouble was that pushing Hengar from her mind only made room for thoughts of Aimery and Aldreda. She was tormented by memories of Aimery standing with the woman, familiarly close. She longed to confront her husband with it, but she was riding with a group of women with no possibility of privacy. Besides which, she suspected even raising the subject would be unwise.
She couldn’t keep it out of her mind, however.
Then there was the question of Frieda. Hengar had sounded certain of his facts, yet the girl must be at least ten. Aimery would only have been about fourteen himself at the time. Had Hengar perhaps been mad?
But Madeleine had always sensed something between Aldreda and Aimery. She remembered Aimery’s need for her the day before, his need that day by the cornfield. Was it likely that he’d suppressed his body’s demands for so long with Aldreda willing? What would he do now that the woman was an available widow?
Madeleine was snapped out of her personal worries when she noticed increased alertness among the men. In the heat, most of them rode bare-headed, but now mailed hoods were being raised, conical helmets put on, shields taken up.
Aimery rode by. “What is it?” Madeleine asked.
He drew his horse up. “Nothing to alarm you.” He gestured to the east. “Just the Fens.”
Madeleine looked. The land on their right had grown flatter as they journeyed, but now she saw it had the green of wetlands. It was empty and vast, with only the haunting cries of marsh birds to show any sign of life.
“Hereward?” she asked nervously.
Aimery did not show guilt or anxiety. “Is out there somewhere and doubtless aware of our every move. He won’t attack us. We’re too strong.”
She had to know. “What would you do if he did?”
He flashed her a cold look. “Defend the queen.” Then he was gone.
She wanted desperately to trust him, but the memory of his pledge to Hereward, the memory of the power in the man she had felt herself, always left a lingering doubt.
They arrived at Peterborough without incident, however, and settled in and around the mighty abbey of Saints Peter, Paul, and Andrew.
Madeleine went to the queen as Matilda climbed wearily from the litter, rubbing her back. “When this journey’s over,” Matilda said testily, “I want that cursed contraption chopped up and burned. I’ll dance around the fire.”
Madeleine giggled. Matilda flashed her a fierce look, but her lips twitched. “I’ll send you on a pilgrimage, girl, in seven months or so.”
“I beg pardon, Your Majesty.” Madeleine looked at the queen and any humor faded. Matilda’s face was growing puffy, and the woman looked exhausted. “Will you not consider stopping here, Your Majesty? We are we
ll into the north, and the abbey has people skilled in medicine.”
Matilda drew herself up, forcing away signs of fatigue by will alone. “I have people skilled in medicine, and this prince will be born in York.” A hand resting on her bulging womb, she swept forward to greet the abbot.
Madeleine shared a shrug with Adele, who shook her head. “There’s no stopping her, Lady Madeleine. Don’t fear. I’ve attended all her births, and there’s been no problem yet.”
“I don’t like that puffiness, though,” said Madeleine quietly. “I saw a woman die once when she swelled up late in her pregnancy.”
“Aye, but I think this is more from the lying around all day. See if you can get her to walk in the cloisters this evening.”
So Madeleine spent the evening walking with Matilda, trying to keep the impatient queen amused. The ladies played music and offered riddles, and as the light faded, Aimery came to sing. He offered a long saga of parted lovers who eventually found happiness. Madeleine drank in his music as if he sang just for her, and when she caught his eye, she thought perhaps he did.
But by the time the queen retired Madeleine was exhausted and quite relieved to find the men and women were segregated. She had no energy just now for marital matters.
The next day it rained. The royal train slogged its way from Peterborough to Bourne, and the carts were often mired in mud despite the solid base of the Roman road. Along with everyone else, Madeleine huddled in her cloak and endured.
At Bourne there was only a village and a modestly fortified manor. Madeleine discovered this, too, had once belonged to Hereward and was now in the hands of Ivo Taillebois, who did not live there. The ladies crammed into the bleak hall while the men camped outside in the mud, forming an armed circle of protection. When they assembled the next morning, it was still raining, and few even bothered to put on dry clothes. They would soon be sodden again.
It was not a chill rain, but Madeleine was damp through. In this weather the armed men fared better than the ladies, for their mail and leather gave better protection.
