by Dave Duncan
When Lars opened his father’s front door the next morning to admit the half dozen patients waiting outside, I was with them, robed in my new splendid best. He greeted me with a joyful shout and a rib-crushing embrace. Of course the spectators insisted that I precede them, but no sooner had I stepped over the threshold than my way was blocked by a scowling Harald Larson. Lovise came running down the stairs, and halted behind him, her face shadowed by dismay.
“You again?” the healer snapped, but he had noticed my garb, which was much grander than he had seen on me before. “You brought enough trouble with you the last time. I was hoping we’d seen the last of you.”
What he was really hoping, I suspected, was that he was not going to lose his fabulous, gorgeous daughter. Perhaps the prospect had brought him to realize just how precious she was.
“No such luck, sir. I promised your daughter that I would return, and I am a man of my word.”
He grunted, making no effort to move out of the way, although Lovise was right behind him, staring dolefully at me over her father’s shoulder.
“If you’re still dreaming of marrying her, you’ll first have to convince me that you can support her and whatever brats she drops for you.”
“Set your mind at rest, sir. His Grace the king has appointed me to high office, and granted me a noble residence in the grounds of his palace of Beaumont. Her Grace Queen Eleanor is very anxious to meet Lovise.”
Lars, behind me, let our a whoop of joy. Lovise made no sound, but her beaming smile said everything necessary. The patients were murmuring like bees.
“However,” I continued, “although I had previously asked her to become Goodwife Lovise, I must confess that this will no longer be possible.”
Her face fell. Her father smiled. “Remembered a previous wife, have you?”
“No, sir.” I held up my hand with the signet ring. “Now I intend to make her Lady Lovise, wife of Sir Durwin of Pipewell, Enchanter General of England.”
At which point Harald Larson was hurled aside by the future Lady Lovise as she rushed into the arms of her betrothed.
And that was that.
I had brought a letter written by one of the sages and signed by Father Osric—the only words he could write—to certify that I had no other wives hidden away in Helmdon. Lady Nicholaa brought pressure to bear to speed up the normal procedure, and we were married on Monday, exactly three weeks after Sir Neil d’Airelle rode into Helmdon. The ceremony was held in in St. Paul’s within the town, not the cathedral. We had decided not to embarrass the bishop by asking him to admit an enchanter.
I won’t go into details. You have all heard of happy marriages, and ours has been as happy as any ever could be. I cannot say we lived happily ever after, but the first half-century has gone well.
We proceeded south by way of Pipewell and Bicester, where we discovered that Eadig had settled his affairs to everyone’s satisfaction. His mother was indeed legally married to John Thatcher, who had no children of his own, so there could be no future inheritance squabble. Eadig was free to continue his studies as he wanted, and his mother was happy, because Beaumont was an easy hour’s ride away. She could see him often, and he could keep an eye on John Thatcher, to make sure that he stayed honest and worthy.
By November I had adepts and sages hunting all over England for grimoires, copying out any incantations we did not have, especially those in the old tongue, and bringing them back to Beaumont, where our sages could check them for trip wires. I intended to build up the finest library of magic in Europe, and eventually did.
On the Feast of Stephen, the day after Christmas, Queen Eleanor gave birth to her fifth son, who proved to be her last child. He was baptized John. Two years earlier, when she commissioned me to draw up a horoscope for Prince Richard, who had also been born in Beaumont, I had promised to be completely honest. This time she trusted me enough that she did not lay that restriction on me, for which I was truly glad.
I did draw up Lord John’s horoscope for her, but I left out all the bad bits, which shortened it considerably. Although he had three older brothers, I could see that he was destined to inherit the throne and be at least as bad a ruler as King Stephen, probably worse. But that horrible prospect lay far in the future.
afterword
i have tried to keep my imagination within historical bounds, but it did slip out in one place: there is no record of Henry II returning to England in 1166. [He ordered that to be kept secret, remember?] He was fully occupied in Brittany and he had no reason that I know of to send Hugh de Cressy to Glastonbury that year, because the monks’ claim to have discovered Arthur’s grave came some twenty-five years later, after Henry’s death. However, he was always a generous supporter of Glastonbury Abbey, because of its association with the Arthurian legends and the political leverage this gave him in his struggles with the Welsh. In those days the tales were all believed to be true, and medieval English kings used Arthur as a precedent to claim the thrones of both France and Scotland.
Queen Eleanor was one of the most remarkable women in history— duchess of Aquitaine in her own right, married (successively) to the kings of both France and England, mother of ten children, two of whom became kings. When young she went to the Holy Land on crusade and, in her old age, ruled England as regent. She famously described herself (in a letter to the pope!) as “Eleanor, by the wrath of God, queen of England.”
The officials I have named in Lincoln—constable, sheriff, bishop—were all historical persons. The most interesting by far was the constable’s daughter, Nicholaa de la Haye, who comes a close second to the queen in the formidability stakes. She did succeed her father as constable of the castle. She outlived two husbands, and was still constable fifty years after the date of my story, when King John visited Lincoln in 1216. Lady Nicholaa came out to greet him at the gate and begged him to let her retire, on account of her age. He refused to accept her resignation and later that year she defended the castle against attack by the invading French army. (If you did not know that the French had an army in the middle of England back then, that is probably because the English still do not like to talk about it.) Nicholaa died in 1230, aged about eighty.
Both Richard the Lionheart and the ill-omened John were born in Beaumont Palace, which no longer exists. Oxford University, the oldest in England and one of the oldest in Europe, had its beginnings just about this time, in a number of religious schools set up in the town.
acknowledgments
covering roughly six acres, Lincoln Castle is still an impressive place to visit. It would have been much more so in the twelfth century, when its walls and towers were higher than they are now. For its geography I drew extensively on Lincoln Castle, the Medieval Story by Sheila Sancha (Lincoln County Council, 1985) and The Knight Who Saved England by Richard Brooks (Osprey Publishing, 2014). I also used my imagination and the requirements of my story.
I relied heavily on Henry II by W. L. Warren, University of California Press, 1973. I am also indebted to two excellent books by Alison Weir: Eleanor of Aquitaine and Britain’s Royal Families; also Desmond Seward’s The Demon’s Brood, a History of the Plantagenet Dynasty.
All the towns and villages mentioned in this book were genuine and still exist, except for Pipewell, which is now nothing but a name on map (pronounced Pip-well by the locals). Pipewell Abbey Church is of Victorian age.
about the author
dave Duncan is a prolific writer of fantasy and science fiction, best known for his fantasy series, especially The Seventh Sword, A Man of His Word, and The King’s Blades. He is both a founding and an honorary lifetime member of SF Canada, and an inductee of the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame. His books have been translated into fifteen languages.
Dave and his wife, Janet, his in-house editor and partner for fifty-seven years (so far), live in Victoria, British Columbia. They have three children and four grandchildren.
The Enchanter General 02 - Trial by Treason
