The Girl Empress (The Chronicle of Maud Book 1)

by Amy Mantravadi

  Scarcely had these noble gentlemen departed when we received word that the king’s return was at hand. He had completed his affairs in Normandy and was ready to set foot once more in England. William and I were particularly glad to hear that both Robert fitz Roy and Brian fitz Count would be in the king’s retinue. Cousin Stephen had remained in Blois to spend more time with his mother and two brothers, Theobald and Henry. The full truth was that Stephen had another brother, William, who was the eldest of all the sons of the Count of Blois and his wife, Adela. However, this William had been passed over for the throne on account of his poor character and erratic behavior. It is said that he once threatened the bishop of Chartres with death over some petty dispute.

  Furthermore, there was a claim oft repeated concerning Cousin William, that there was not a brothel this side of the Rhine that had not enjoyed his patronage. I never set much store by that rumor, believing it to be an utter impossibility, but it must have had some foundation in fact. Such a son not even a mother could find worthy of elevation, and thus he was forced to content himself with his wife’s ancestral lands in Sully.

  You must forgive me, Daughter, for I have strayed from the main purpose of this tale. With the king due back any day, the people of Westminster as well as those in London were eager to have their monarch with them once again. Indeed, I believe all but the queen and I were looking forward to his arrival with great joy. I could not wish for it, for I knew that it meant the final days of relative freedom were upon me.

  When the king’s fleet was sighted upon the river, the bells of London town rang out with great jubilation. Nobles and servants alike made their way to the water’s edge to catch a glimpse of the king in all his glory gliding along the river as in the Roman processions of old. Truly he was vir triumphalis, for though he had made few gains on the field of battle, he had accomplished a great conquest in the form of the imperial espousal.

  As was often the case on such occasions, Roger of Salisbury had found his way not only to Westminster, but also to the head of the welcome party. Many felt that the honor ought to have gone to Her Royal Highness Queen Mathilda, but as was her wont, she saw little need to demur over such a trifling matter, knowing that the truest exercise of power takes place beyond the prying eyes of the masses.

  As the fleet made its way around the river’s bend, the water before us filled with a great number of boats; William ceased counting at twenty. Some carried warriors, others officials, still others food and drink from the Continent. The few poor men who had to travel with the animals undoubtedly longed for more pleasant odors. Then there were boats packed high with other trade goods: fabrics, tools crafted by the blacksmiths in Normandy and points farther to the east, and some materials that the queen had purchased from a Milanese merchant.

  The craft that carried the king was the first to pull up to the wharf. King Henry stood on the upper deck with the ship’s captain, both taking in the view. He was quite the valiant figure dressed in his ceremonial armor, and how magnificent was his ship! The head of a great lion rose at its front, with its twin looking backward at the city. I recognized several of the men closest to the king on board, including the two I was most eager to see: Robert and Brian.

  “Hail, King Henry, lord of all England and Normandy!” the bishop of Salisbury proclaimed as my father made his descent. He extended his hand to grasp that of the sovereign, but instead the king wrapped him in a full embrace.

  “Dear Roger, it is good to see you again. Tell me, how go our affairs?”

  “Quite well, my lord. There have been no rebellions during your absence, so great is the love of the people for their king. Every parish church from Canterbury to Carlisle continues to proclaim the word of God, and I hear that you have repulsed the efforts of the new French king. Surely the Lord has seen the justice of your cause.” Then, in a more hushed tone, “I have been devising new methods to replenish your exchequer. I do not doubt that we shall be able to come up with the necessary monies to satisfy the emperor’s dowry request.”

  “Excellent!” the king replied, striking the bishop’s back in a manner that seemed to shake the smaller man’s entire body. “We have a great many things to discuss, but no more of that now. We will talk on the morrow.”

  “As you wish, Your Highness. I shall be ready to give a full account.”

  Having left matters thus, King Henry moved down the line to where we were standing. The queen performed her usual bow.

  “Welcome home, Your Grace,” the queen said. “I trust you shall find that everything is in order.”

  “I have no reason to suspect otherwise, but my men tell me that I am not to meet with the archbishop of Canterbury, who has lately quit the town.”

  “That is correct,” she answered. “He was forced to leave on account of his health, but he performed well in his assigned role, looking after the interests of your children throughout your absence.”

  “I would prefer to see him look to my interests, but I suppose my children will have to do. What a pity he was not here to greet me!” the king said with a laugh.

  After a brief acknowledgment of William and me, along with the officials on hand, the king moved to enter the palace, where he would receive what I could only assume would be a meal fit for a king.

  “Come, Lady Mathilda. You have been summoned.”

  “By whom, Lady Beatrice?”

  “By the king, naturally. Your father wishes to speak with you.”

  “Is it about my espousal to the emperor?” I asked this with some difficulty, as Lady Beatrice was mounting a savage attack upon my hair with an ivory comb.

  “The king’s messenger did not specify, but I think it likely.”

  “Will my mother be there as well?”

  “No, the king wishes to speak to you in camera.”

  Even as Lady Beatrice continued happily subjecting me to all manner of outward preparation, I became quite troubled. Why would the king wish to speak with me alone? I tried to think of a time when I had ever been in his presence absent any observers. Perhaps there had been an instance when I was young and rushed in unwittingly, but that would be all.

  How ought one to behave? Should I wait for him to speak, or did I possess some kind of daughterly prerogative to raise an issue at will? No, that could not possibly be the way of things. I was nervous enough around the king when my mother and brother were there, not to mention visitors and other residents of the castle. The idea of facing him alone was enough to cause my heart to race.

  “You are strangely quiet, Lady Mathilda. I cannot remember the last time I have placed a comb through your hair without a litany of complaints.”

  I was too lost in my fears to answer. “In truth, I should not dread the idea of facing my father,” I thought. “Soon enough I will be married to another ruler, this one a complete stranger. No, I must be strong. I am setting out on a journey on which none can aid me. I must learn to overcome these feelings which seem to plague my soul.”

  Breaking into my mental dispute was a shrill voice. “Goodness, child, your hands are filthy! How can that possibly be? Girl, fetch the basin!”

  One of Lady Beatrice’s assistants immediately seized the bowl and pitcher sitting nearby. The older woman held first my right hand and then my left under the water, putting each through a stern regimen of scrubbing. By the time she had finished, the water had turned brown and my hands were beginning to take on a shade of pink.

  “Please, Lady Mathilda, in the space between here and your father’s chambers, do try your best not to touch anything.”

  It would have been impossible for me to disobey Lady Beatrice’s instruction, for she kept a tight hold on me as we walked across the palace, taking care to steer me away from anything that presented the slightest danger to my appearance. On the outside I must have appeared every bit the lovely princess, but inside I was trembling. We had arrived at the entrance to the king’s chambers. This was the moment of truth.

  Lady Beatrice spoke to the gua
rds at the door. “Here is the lady Mathilda. The king has summoned her.”

  “Wait here,” said the taller of the two guards as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. The other guard continued to stand there, his face providing no sign of what awaited.

  I had been making an intense study of my shoes when the guard returned and informed us that the king was busy with a matter of state and we must wait a moment longer. He then shut the door again, and we continued to stand before it in silence, the remaining guard acting as if we were not there. I returned to my downward glance until Lady Beatrice let me know with one of her usual comments that a lady does not allow her chin to dip in such a manner.

  After another minute or two, I finally asked, “Lady Beatrice, should we return to the nursery? It seems that the king is quite busy at the moment.”

  “We shall remain here until you are called.”

  “Perhaps he has forgotten about us.”

  “Patience! He will receive you soon enough.”

  In truth, I was merely hoping to delay what I believed would be an awkward situation, but I was not surprised that Lady Beatrice would deny me this opportunity. Comfort had never been her highest priority.

  Finally the door was pulled fully open, and the guard who had until that point overlooked our presence motioned for us to go into the chamber. As we entered, I could see my father studying a map of the Norman possessions across the Channel. He had evidently been speaking with some of his martial counselors.

  “Your Highness, here is Lady Mathilda as you requested. I shall leave the two of you now.”

  A new wave of fear hit me as Lady Beatrice released my hand and departed from the room. I glanced back, unwilling that she should leave, but she motioned for me to look at my father. Turning again, I could see that he was still examining the map. Without looking up he motioned for me to come closer, which I did with the most halting of footsteps. I stopped a few paces away, afraid that any further progress might be deemed an invasion of his privacy. However, when he did not sense me right at his side, the king finally cast his gaze in my direction and said, “What are you doing all the way over there? Come closer!” He must have observed my nervous disposition, for he added, “There is no need to be afraid.”

  A few steps more, and I was within arm’s length of him, but he once again repeated, “Closer! I need you to be able to see this.” He directed me to a spot directly in front of him where I could see the whole Frankish kingdom spread out before me.

  “Do you know what all of these places are, Maud?”

  Upon concluding that there was no other option but to respond, I made my best attempt.

  “This water over here is part of the great sea, and beyond it is England.”

  “Good.”

  “And here are our lands along the coast, the Duchy of Normandy.”

  “What is that to the west?”

  This one escaped me and I was forced to try to read the faded inscription.

  “Brittany. It is the Duchy of Brittany.”

  “Where is France?”

  “To the east, my lord.”

  “And what would you get if you went even farther east?”

  “Well, that depends. If you were to go directly east, you should hit the mountains that lie within the realm of the emperor. If you were to turn north, you would arrive in the land of the Danes. And if your course leads you south, you will reach Lombardy, and farther on Rome and the Middle Sea.”

  I looked up and was relieved to see a smile on my father’s face. I must have performed well.

  “Very good. Who taught you all that?”

  “Father Anselm, sir.”

  “Ah, I see.” His voice betrayed a slight degree of annoyance. “And did he also explain the situation we are facing in Normandy?”

  “With all respect, Father, I do not need to hear about that from Anselm. It is the talk of all the court.”

  “Then I suppose you know that the fat boy ruling France, King Louis, has demanded that I pay homage to him?”

  “And will you?”

  “Certainly not! He also had the audacity to command that I turn over the fortresses in the border regions to alleged ‘neutral castellans,’ but that is the very last place where one wishes a man to be neutral. Remember this, Daughter: the man who stands on the front line of battle must be the most steadfast in the service of his king. That is the only way to prevent incursions from the outside. In any case, a man who refuses to set his foot firmly in one camp or the other is nothing but a flattering ingrate.”

  “What did King Louis do when you refused?”

  “He gathered together his best men, which of course is not saying much, since they were Franks, after all. He attempted to force me into submission, but we were able to apply enough pressure to force an agreement. No king of England will be paying homage to a king of France, not if I have anything to say about it! Now, what do you see here?”

  “Those are the lands of Maine and Anjou.”

  “Precisely. They lie directly to the south of our ancestral lands. Fulk of Anjou is about to come into possession of both of them. The king of France is already attempting to bring Fulk under his influence. Indeed, he seeks to place all the counties of France under his direct authority so that they must all act in complete obedience to his will.”

  “Do you think that this Fulk of Anjou will do so? Would that not place Normandy in greater peril?”

  “Whether or not he will do so is yet to be seen, but it is concerning.” He paused to allow me a moment of reflection and then continued. “Surely you must see now why an alliance with the emperor is so vital. He is the only other ruler with an army that can pose a substantial threat to Louis’s ambitions.”

  “I understand, sir.” We had now come to the possibility of marriage—the subject I had feared all along.

  “Emperor Henry is sending his legates here to Westminster. They should arrive in a few months. At that time we will complete the marriage agreement.”

  “And when am I to leave for Germany, my lord?” Whether it was ladylike or not, my eyes had once again resorted to studying my shoes.

  “It will most likely be early next year, after the weather improves. The coming months will be a time of final preparation for you, Maud. You have already made great strides from what your mother the queen tells me.”

  “But I do not feel ready, sir. I have never performed any official duties—never sat at a royal feast or attended the signing of a charter.”

  “This will be the year in which all of that changes. You will be placed before the eyes of the people more often. In time you will adjust and become comfortable with your new situation.”

  I was unsure that I could ever feel comfortable in such a situation, but nevertheless I forced myself to continue listening.

  My father paused a moment. During our conversation he had been picking up the metal weights used to hold down the map and polishing each one with his shirtsleeve. Now he returned the last one to its appointed place and sat on the edge of the table with his arms crossed, looking me directly in the eye.

  “Mathilda, this is a duty you must perform on behalf of the kingdom, one equally essential to anything our warriors accomplish in battle. I am counting on you to make both your mother and me proud. Such an alliance is the greatest height to which a woman can rise.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Very good. There is a person I wish you to meet, a knight trained in my household.” He called for one of the guards, who appeared immediately. “You may let him in now.”

  The man who entered next was one of the largest I had ever seen. So great was his height that he towered over the king, and each of his hands looked as if they could crush a man’s skull. A large scar ran down the side of his face, adding to the savage nature of his appearance. It looked as if the injury that caused it must have threatened his left eye. He stood at attention awaiting the king’s instruction.

  “Mathilda, I present to you Drogo.
He entered my household several years ago and has since completed his training for knighthood. His father was in the great host that landed with King William at Hastings, and he played no small part in the victory that day, for which his family was awarded their lands in Cornwall. He has accepted my commission to accompany you to your new home and to remain in your service.”

  My eyes were still attempting to take in everything before me. Although Drogo was a large man, his bright eyes softened his otherwise harsh appearance. Sensing that it was the correct response at such a time, I made a short bow to him and said, “Master Drogo, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  I wondered if this was the wrong thing to say, for the knight looked to the king for help as to what his next move should be. Was it possible that he knew even less about how to behave in this circumstance than I did, despite his extensive training?

  “It would be proper for you to return the princess’s greeting,” the king finally instructed him.

  “Apologies, my liege. Lady Mathilda, it is a great honor to serve you,” he said, trying his best to bow low. I could see that bending down to my level was more difficult for him than it would have been for most men, so high was his head perched upon his shoulders.

  He then took my hand and was about to kiss it, but another glance at the king seemed to prove to Drogo that this was incorrect as well. He settled for simply gripping it and nodding his head in an affirmative manner.

  “Good. Now that’s done. You may return to wherever you came from,” father said to the knight, dismissing him with a wave of his right hand.