The Devil's Diadem

by Sara Douglass

  ‘How was the hunt?’ I asked her, as a groom hurried to help me dismount. She grimaced and said that the herons had flown away from the marshes during the night, and there were none left to hunt.

  Even the falcons were sulking.

  We settled in chairs, taking the warmed wine a servitor brought us. Most of the other falconers had returned as well, and the field was bright with colour and chatter and movement.

  ‘Look,’ said Alianor, ‘here come the forest hunters!’

  I turned in my chair slightly, and there, indeed, came a procession of riders out of the forest. At their head was Raife, riding his horse hard. Gilbert Ghent was just behind him. Raife was shouting something, and only after a moment did I realise it was my name.

  Someone, a falconer, pointed to where Alianor and I sat, and Raife rode over to us at such an abandoned pace that servants and cooks and other dismounted hunters scattered to avoid his steaming horse.

  ‘Maeb!’ Raife jumped down from his horse. ‘You are well?’

  I frowned. ‘Of course. Raife, what is this fuss?’

  ‘You vanished from the forest and this … this bastard cur of a dog,’ he indicated Ghent, who was standing behind looking deeply chastened, ‘had misplaced you. We feared you were still lost among the trees!’

  ‘Well, as you can see, I am perfectly safe and well, and was enjoying the peaceful sun until you rode up. But what is this about Ghent? He accompanied me all the way to the forest edge.’

  I looked to Ghent to confirm this, and with a sudden drop of my stomach realised he was, indeed, wearing a blue surcoat.

  Not the gold and silver surcoat of my companion.

  Ghent wore no helmet or maille, unlike my companion.

  His horse was a chestnut, not the white, diamond-gilded mount of my companion.

  ‘My lady,’ Ghent said, ‘I did not. I lost you soon after we entered the forest.’

  ‘But …’ I said.

  ‘Maeb?’ said Raife. ‘What is it? Did someone follow you?’

  ‘A knight accompanied me,’ I said. ‘I thought it was Gilbert, but the sunlight made it hard to see properly. I was sure it was Gilbert! But he wore a gold and silver surcoat … not that blue that Gilbert wears now.’

  Raife and Gilbert exchanged glances, Gilbert giving a slight shake of his head.

  ‘I have seen no one wearing a surcoat of that description,’ said Raife. ‘Alianor?’

  She gave a shake of her head also.

  ‘What did he say?’ Raife said. ‘What devices did he wear?’

  ‘He said nothing. And the sun was so bright … it glinted so from his maille, his surcoat, his helmet, that I could make out no devices. I … I was so certain it was Gilbert that I did not look close, nor question him. He led me straight here.’

  I paused. ‘It could have been anyone,’ I said, ‘among all this crowd.’

  But no matter how much I looked about while we dined that day in the sunny field, I saw no knight wearing a silver and gold surcoat, nor dressed in helmet and maille.

  Chapter Two

  When we returned from the hunt we partook of a light and informal meal in the great hall, then Raife and I retired to our private chambers in the new buildings in the inner bailey. We were both weary and looking forward to some time to ourselves.

  Our chambers were spacious and well appointed, on the first floor of a large building that looked over the inner bailey to the wooden stairs leading into the Conqueror’s Tower. We sat in the solar by a window, drinking ale and watching people come and go from the Tower. Most of the hunters had by now either retired to the chambers or dormitories Edmond had appointed for them, or had left the Tower for lodgings or homes elsewhere in London.

  Evelyn, Isouda and Charles had left us alone, going for their meal in a hall directly below us.

  ‘What happened today?’ Raife said.

  ‘I don’t truly know,’ I said. ‘I was riding in the forest, and I had reined Dulcette back so I could enjoy its tranquillity and beauty. A knight rode with me. I was sure it was Ghent, even though I thought his surcoat different and his horse too fine.’

  ‘Describe the surcoat and horse.’

  ‘The surcoat I could not distinguish to any degree, save that it glittered with gold and silver thread. His horse … oh, Raife, it was magnificent. A white courser, his mane dragging on the ground, and with diamonds twisted throughout. Now, of course, I know that it could not have been Ghent, but then I was in such a dream and so trusting.’

  I had thought Raife might have been angered with me, but he was not.

  ‘He did not speak?’

  I thought of the words I’d thought he’d said, and of his promise that he would be there to protect me whenever I needed it, but were they true words, or not?

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘he did not speak.’

  Raife was looking out the window, as if transfixed by what was happening in the inner bailey, but I knew my husband enough to know that the twitching in his jaw meant he was thinking deeply.

  ‘There are legends,’ he said, speaking slowly and turning to look at me again, ‘that sometimes mortals wander onto the paths of the Old People. The ancient, lost falloways of this land. Mayhap that is what happened to you.’

  ‘I became lost down one of the ancient paths of the Old People? One of these falloways?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  I pondered that. The falloway had felt so peaceful, so enchanting.

  ‘Are these ancient paths, these lost falloways, dangerous?’ I said.

  ‘Did you feel in danger?’

  ‘No. I felt utterly safe.’

  ‘Well, then.’ Raife gave another slight, almost disinterested shrug. ‘And the knight?’

  ‘A guide perhaps?’

  ‘Raife, what do you know of the legends of the Old People? I heard some of them while I was at Pengraic Castle, and saw three of the village women lay flowers and … and a dead cockerel on Stephen’s grave. Owain said that you allowed that. You must know some of the legends.’

  ‘Are you interested?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

  ‘The legends of the Old People still hold powerful sway over the folk of the west of this isle, Maeb. Not so much in England, not in these southern and eastern Christian lands, but in the west, in the mountains and the forests, where the Church has a weaker grip. I was raised with these legends along with my nurse’s milk, at Pengraic.’

  ‘What are these legends, Raife? Who are these “Old People”?’

  ‘The Old People are supposed to be an ancient, and somewhat mystic, race who lived in harmony with the mountains and forests and the beasts who lived within, as well as with the circling of the sun and moon and the stars in the heavens above. As for the legends, they are mostly that the Old People never really left this land, nor died out, they just vanished down these lost falloways. A long, long time ago. Many hundreds of years, maybe even thousands. No one knows why. The legends say that sometimes the Old People can reach out to us, or that we can somehow touch them. But they are legends only, Maeb.’

  ‘But still powerful in people’s minds.’

  ‘Yes, thus I allow the villagers at Crickhoel to visit the ancient sacred heartstone in the chapel at Pengraic. It is of no consequence, Owain does not mind and it gives some peace to people who often find little enough of that in their daily lives.’

  Owain and the villagers, I thought, possibly worshipped the Old People as much as they did our sweet Lord Jesu.

  ‘Raife, why did you inter Stephen under the heartstone?’

  Raife sighed, and looked out the window as if distancing himself from the question.

  ‘It was the most beautiful place I could think of for him,’ he said finally, very softly.

  My eyes filled with tears. I always had known that Raife loved Stephen, but this …

  ‘Raife —’

  He rose from his chair. ‘Come, wife. We shall retire early. Edmond has us up at dawn for yet another day of games.’

&n
bsp; We were in our bed shortly thereafter. Raife went to sleep almost immediately, but I lay sleepless for hours. I was deeply fatigued and badly wanted to sleep, but my head was still full of thoughts about what had happened today, and as well both my back and head ached, my bladder complained, my legs cramped, and the baby twitched as if it still enjoyed the hunt.

  At some point, deep into the night, and when all noise from the inner bailey had ceased, I grew tired of laying still in bed, trying not to move lest it wake Raife, and so decided I would rise, don a warm robe and shoes, and perhaps stroll about the inner bailey for a while. Maybe that would make me sleepy.

  I rose cautiously, trying not to wake Raife, but my efforts were in vain.

  ‘Maeb. Are you going to the privy?’

  ‘I am going for a walk outside, Raife. I cannot sleep, I ache and I need some air.’

  ‘Maeb —’

  ‘I will take Evelyn with me. Raife, we cannot possibly be safer than we are here, within the Conqueror’s Tower. Do not fear that the Old People will snatch me!’

  He chuckled a little, and mumbled something else, but made no further protest, and I think he was fast asleep by the time I opened the door of our privy chamber and crept through into the solar.

  Here Isouda and Evelyn slept, and I shook Evelyn awake, and told her I needed her to accompany me for a short walk.

  She muttered complaints under her breath all the way out to the inner bailey.

  The inner bailey was frosty and silent. Guards stood at the gate into the outer bailey, but otherwise there was no one else about. I tugged my mantle tighter about me, taking deep breaths, enjoying the stillness and the frost.

  Evelyn muttered something, and I shushed her. I just wanted to walk and let my thoughts drift.

  ‘My lady, I am cold,’ Evelyn said.

  ‘Then stand in the doorway until I am done,’ I said tersely, nodding to the deep porch over the door leading to the building which housed our chambers.

  Happier now I was on my own, I did several circuits of the inner bailey, murmuring a greeting to the guards as I passed them. My leg cramps eased, and my head and back aches almost disappeared, and I was just about ready to go back indoors when I heard a slight sound from a window close by.

  I stopped. I was standing right by the southern wall of the Tower, and I realised with a little start that these windows must belong to the chamber where Madog’s wife, Mevanou, was confined. I stepped closer, hugging my mantle ever tighter.

  ‘Mevanou?’

  I thought I saw a glimpse of a white face. ‘Mevanou?’

  Then nothing. The face vanished.

  Silence.

  I sighed and decided it was time for my bed. I walked back to the porch and accompanied a grateful Evelyn back to our chambers.

  We woke in the hour before dawn. I was stiff and cold after only a few hours’ sleep, and now it was my turn to moan and complain as we rose. We dressed, but did not break our fast.

  Edmond had planned a dawn meal and bonfires in the fields beyond the outer bailey to celebrate All Souls Day.

  I thought he was mad.

  But at least there would be bonfires.

  We proceeded to the field beyond the outer bailey on foot, as it was not far. Once we were across the bridge we could see the bonfires Edmond had caused to be made, and other nobles arriving on horseback from London.

  Raife and I made for the nearest bonfire.

  Edmond was already here, moving among the groups standing huddled about the fires, looking cheerful. Evelyn and Isouda, who had accompanied us, moved elsewhere and to my surprise I saw Evelyn talking briefly with Prince Henry.

  I thought that I would later ask her of what they spoke, but also reminded myself that she possibly knew him from the time she had been close to Edmond.

  Henry of Blois, the Bishop of Wincestre, led us in prayers for the dead and then, official duties done, we were free for revelries for the day.

  For most of us, that started with warm food and an even warmer place by one of the bonfires.

  I had just taken a trencher filled with a stew of meat, and was congratulating myself on a good place by a fire, when there came a distant shout.

  It took me a moment to orientate myself. Then, following the direction others looked, I turned to the Tower.

  It rose, gilded almost pink in the dawn light, its parapets picked out by the first rays of the sun.

  Something was happening on top of the Tower.

  I heard Edmond shout something, and I saw soldiers, who had been standing about, race for the Tower.

  I quickly sought out Raife for reassurance — he was standing not so far from me — then looked back to the Tower.

  Soldiers on the parapets were chasing someone … a woman I thought by the flying hair behind her. She ran from the north-western tower along the parapets toward the south-west tower.

  But there, suddenly, soldiers appeared and the woman stopped halfway. She desperately turned this way and that, and then, horribly, she leaned over the parapets and, just as a soldier grabbed at her, fell.

  I watched her tumble over and over all the way down, my heart in my mouth, my trencher of food now splattered on the ground before me, only losing sight of her as she fell beneath the height of the outer curtain wall of the outer bailey.

  Silence.

  Then people started running and shouting.

  Raife was beside me. ‘Who?’ he wondered aloud.

  I did not need a close inspection of the body to know who it had been, for her red hair had floated out behind her all the way down to the ground.

  ‘Mevanou,’ I said. ‘Wife of Madog.’

  Soldiers were scrambling about the outer bailey, into which Mevanou had fallen. Raife and I were among the first to arrive into the outer bailey. Like everyone else, we hurried over to where Mevanou had fallen.

  Immediately I wished I hadn’t. Mevanou had first fallen onto the roof of the falcon mews, and then slid onto a grassy patch to one side.

  Her face and upper body were covered in blood, her limbs lying at odd angles.

  She was not moving.

  People gathered. The scene was made even more gruesome by the shrill cries of the falcons in their mews, disturbed as they had been by the terrible bang on their roof.

  ‘Who —’ someone asked, and I opened my mouth to answer, but Prince Henry spoke before I could.

  ‘It is Mevanou, wife of Madog ap Gruffydd.’

  ‘But how did she escape her chambers?’ Edmond said, stepping forward.

  Henry looked straight at me. ‘I think we should ask the Countess of Pengraic that,’ he said.

  Everyone looked at me, then, but in my shock I saw only one face and registered its expression.

  It was Edmond, and his face was swathed in reluctant suspicion.

  Chapter Three

  How can you name my wife!’ Raife said immediately. ‘She has had no dealings with —’

  ‘I am afraid she has, Pengraic,’ Edmond said. ‘While you were away tending your estates I know she visited Mevanou on at least one occasion.’

  Raife turned to look at me, his face equal parts anger and worry.

  ‘And again last night,’ Henry said, ‘she went to the Welsh princess’ window. Did the countess pass Mevanou something? A key?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I was walking the inner bailey only.’

  ‘And yet you went straight to her window,’ Henry said. ‘Why?’

  ‘I thought I heard something,’ I said. ‘I looked and realised it was Mevanou’s window, and thought I saw her face, so I went over.’

  ‘Murder and death follow you everywhere, don’t they, countess?’ Henry said, and I felt cold fear slide down my spine.

  ‘We take this inside,’ said Edmond. ‘Now.’

  ‘You went to see Mevanou?’ Raife hissed at me as we climbed the wooden stairs into the Tower. He had his hand tight about my elbow and I gave an experimental tug to see if he would release me.

  No.
/>   ‘Once only,’ I said. ‘How can Henry accuse me of —’

  ‘And last night?’

  ‘As I said, Raife! And as I told you last night! I was walking to relieve my cramps and aches, when I thought I heard —’

  We had reached the top of the steps and Raife pulled me almost roughly into the lesser hall. In front and behind us tramped what I thought was a horde of people. Whatever Henry wished to accuse me of, it did not seem as if it would be before any lesser number people than had been outside.

  ‘God’s mercy,’ Raife muttered. ‘Henry would not have come into the open with his accusations if he didn’t have certain intelligence. What does he know, Maeb?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ I said. ‘I don’t know!’

  ‘I had trusted you not to betray me, Maeb. Trusted you!’

  I wanted to reply, or defend myself, but Raife dragged me down the hall, then to the stairs inside the north-eastern tower. It was dark and close inside, and I was beginning to feel very sick.

  It was a relief to step into the gallery on the third level.

  We went straight to the great hall. Edmond led us to one of the fireplaces and gestured me into a chair before it. Raife stood just behind me, a hand on my shoulder. People gathered about, a few score, maybe even more. There were many nobles present — Alianor and her husband Robert de Lacy (Alianor looking worried), Chestre, Pembroke, Richemont, the Bishop of Wincestre, and many others. Fulke d’Ecouis was here, too, and somehow I was not surprised.

  Henry stood to the fore, looking calm and certain.

  ‘What is this about?’ Edmond said.

  ‘The Countess of Pengraic,’ Henry said, ‘had become close to Mevanou, wife of Madog ap Gruffydd. She —’

  ‘That is not true —’ I began.

  ‘Peace, my lady,’ Edmond said. ‘You shall have opportunity for your say in turn.’

  ‘The countess had promised Madog that she would look after his wife and aid her in every way she could,’ Henry continued. ‘The countess was much taken with Madog, with his handsome face and sly, cunning manner. One must wonder what she promised him.’