Lady of the English (50 page)

Climbing down from a castle window and crossing the frozen moat and river was only the start of their journey. As they set out once more, forcing a path through the snow, Matilda knew she would never again use the phrase “When hell freezes over”

without remembering this night.

ttt

Will sat before the hearth in Abbot Ingulph’s parlour at Abingdon enjoying the heat from the flames on the front of his body. The part facing away from the fire was protected from the cold by a thick fur-lined cloak. Teri lay at his side, his nose between his forepaws, his brows cocking occasionally in his master’s direction. Will had brought a gift to the abbot of 396

LadyofEnglish.indd 396

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

nuggets of frankincense and two silver censers in which to burn the precious resin. He had also brought the abbot a cover for a book of the New Testament he wanted to give to Adeliza. The monks had been copying the work over the past several months and now the book was to be bound with carved ivory plates set with rock crystals, garnets, and chrysophrases.

Will’s errand was a welcome relief from duty with Stephen’s army besieging Oxford. He knew the defenders must be at the end of their resources and that surrender was close. They could not survive much longer in these bitter conditions. Stephen was expecting to be master of Oxford before Christmas. Will had been trying not to think about Matilda trapped inside the castle with her garrison because her kinship with Adeliza—and, by association, with himself—agitated his conscience. He knew that when Matilda was taken, Stephen would incarcerate her for the rest of her life.

“War is a terrible thing,” Abbot Ingulph said quietly. “We see so many dispossessed and homeless folk at our gates and through no fault of their own. All the burned crops and slaughtered animals bring famine and suffering, but not to those who make the war.”

Will flushed at the abbot’s gentle chastisement. “I do what I can on my own lands and foundations to succour them,” he said, “and it is my lady’s main cause.”

Ingulph steepled his hands under his chin. “The ordinary people are being severely hurt by this war between those who should be offering them good governance. It is your duty and responsibility to sort out a lasting peace, rather than fighting each other and everyone else into the grave.”

“I agree,” Will said. “Your advice is sound.”

Ingulph opened his hands. “Then act upon it,” he said.

When Will had finished his wine, he clicked his fingers to Teri, took his leave of the abbot, and made his way to the 397

LadyofEnglish.indd 397

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

guest house. He liked Ingulph, even if the old man did tend to lecture like a sorrowful parent to a sinful child. He was right.

There had to be a lasting peace, but in order for that to happen, there had to be the will for it too, and that was less in evidence.

He hunched into his cloak as a fresh flurry battered him side-on. Teri suddenly stiffened, his hackles rising and a low growl rumbling in his chest. Will stopped abruptly and stared at the bedraggled group staggering towards the guest lodge from the direction of the gatehouse. All wore strange white robes that flapped in the wind like wings and for a moment he was filled with gut-lurching fear as he wondered just what he was seeing.

Angels perhaps, or souls of the dead in their shroud cloths. Two of them, seeing him, moved to protect a slighter figure in their midst and laid their hands to their swords. The hair rose on Will’s nape. He was not wearing his own sword because he was on monastic lands and had come with peaceful intent. Then the slighter figure pushed the guardians aside and came forward, putting down her hood and ignoring the growling dog.

Will was stunned and shocked to see Matilda—an apparition indeed. “Domina.” He bowed. She was pinch-faced with cold and exhaustion, but her eyes were fierce. “This is an unex-pected meeting indeed.”

Her jaw was taut. “A meeting that never happened,” she said, “unless you make it so.”

He could see her shivering as fresh flurries of wet snow spun across the courtyard. What in God’s name was she doing here?

“Never mind that,” he said. “You should come inside before you freeze.”

Matilda hesitated. Her knights exchanged worried glances.

“This is a house of God,” Will said brusquely. “Neither I nor my men will harm you; you have my word.”

She inclined her head. “Then I accept because I know you for a man of honour, whatever your loyalties.”

398

LadyofEnglish.indd 398

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

While they had been speaking, a monk had run to fetch Abbot Ingulph, and he arrived as Matilda and her escort were gathering around the guest-house hearth, although not too close to the fire because of the pain in their frozen hands and feet. Ingulph was plainly disconcerted, but did his best to appear composed. “Be welcome in God’s name, domina,” he said.

“This house embraces all travellers, especially on a night such as this. I will see that you are fed and given beds.”

“Thank you, Father, but we will not be staying for long,”

Matilda replied. “Just let us warm ourselves for a while, but hot food would be most welcome.”

“The loan of horses, would be appreciated too,” said de Bohun. “We have some distance still to travel.”

Ingulph’s brow furrowed. “Most are out at the grange.

There are only two cobs in the stables, and my old mule, and his riding days are long over. You are welcome to the cobs, providing you return them as soon as you may.”

“Thank you,” Matilda said, although her heart sank at such news. “We are grateful for whatever you can provide.”

Ingulph offered Matilda and her escort his lodging in which to revive themselves because it was warm and more private. Since there were things he needed to make straight, Will went with them. “I am lodging at the abbey tonight,” he said as they entered Ingulph’s house, “but tomorrow I shall be returning to Oxford.”

Matilda sat down on the bench before the fire and opened and closed her fingers, encouraging them to thaw. “Tomorrow it will not matter,” she said, “because the castle will surrender to the king.”

“But you will not be inside it.”

“No.” She gave him a thin smile. “Whatever he steals, it will always lack its true worth in his hands—like his crown. All glitter and no substance.”

“You will forgive me, domina, if I beg to differ.”

399

LadyofEnglish.indd 399

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

“Will I?” she said, barely smiling at all now, and changed the subject. “How is Adeliza?”

“She is well. We have another son, Godfrey.” He added after a hesitation, “You are often in my wife’s prayers.”

“As she is often in mine. I will write to her as soon as I am able.”

Will concealed a grimace. “Is it worth it all?” he asked.

She drew a deep breath. “I know you will never abandon your oath to serve Stephen, but what happens when he is gone?

Would you bend the knee to that brat of his, Eustace? Or would you look to my son?”

Will considered this woman, sitting before the fire, her fine bones sharpened by the cold and dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes. Even if he thought her misguided, he acknowledged her courage and resolution. “As much as his breeding, it would depend on the kind of man he becomes, and the same could be said for Eustace.”

“But you would consider?”

“Yes, domina, I would, but very carefully indeed.” He bowed to her and turned to leave, but on the threshold he paused, torn between his duty to Stephen and the obligation to Matilda born of the kinship bond between her and Adeliza. Before he could think better of it, he said, “If they are of use to you, you may take three of my horses from the stables. The chestnut is sturdy and will bear two of you with ease, the bay with the white star is steady, and the grey bites, but he’s a worker.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes glinted with moisture, and her expression dared him to notice.

“It is the most and the least I can do,” he said.

She swallowed. “I ask also of your goodwill and for the kinship your wife bears to me that you intercede for the garrison and those of my household who are still trapped inside the castle.”

400

LadyofEnglish.indd 400

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

“I will do what I can.” He left the room and returned to the guest lodge, and when his men asked him what had transpired, he put them off with a bland comment and, retiring to his mattress, put his back to them.

In the morning the empress and her party had gone. A fresh fall of snow had obliterated all tracks beyond those of monks going down from dorter to chapel in the dead of night. Were it not for the fact that his chestnut stallion and the bay and grey geldings had gone from their stalls, he could have believed it all a dream. As it was, he faced a long trudge back to Oxford.

401

LadyofEnglish.indd 401

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Forty-seven

Wallingford, December 1142

M atilda drooped in the saddle. Every muscle was aching and tight with cold and she felt as if the marrow had been sucked from her bones and replaced with ice. They had been struggling through the snow for most of the night, trying to cover the ground between Abingdon and Wallingford before dawn. The light was grey in the east with a streak of oyster white low on the horizon. It had stopped snowing an hour ago and the world was hushed and colourless, the only sound the crump of the snow under the horse’s hooves and the jingle of harness.

Now, finally, the walls and towers of Wallingford Castle rose out of the dawn in lime-washed stone and timber like a sketch on an embroiderer’s linen cloth. Relief coursed through her at the sight, but there was misery too, because although this place guaranteed safety, she did not want to be here, and the circumstances driving her were of defeat and failure.

At the outer works, a herald rode out to greet them and establish their credentials. Matilda realised what an odd party they must look, sharing horses and still clad in their disguising white robes for warmth. The moment the herald recognised them, he raised the horn he was carrying and blew three strong blasts, and the guards hastened to open the gates.

LadyofEnglish.indd 402

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

As Matilda entered Wallingford, folk were shovelling pathways through the night’s fresh snowfall. A groom hastened to take her bridle. De Bohun dismounted and turned to help Matilda from the saddle, but Brian was there before him to claim the privilege.

She felt the hard grip of his hands as he lifted her down, and for an instant they stood as close as lovers. Then he stepped back, putting a body’s distance between them, even while their breath mingled in the icy air.

“Domina, I do not know what you are doing here,” he said,

“but I thank Christ to see you, and know you are safe.” Falling to his knees, he bowed his head.

Matilda wanted to weep aloud, but suppressed her emotion with rigid control. Beyond Brian, everyone else was kneeling too, so that in this bleak courtyard, piled with snow, muddy straw underfoot on the walkways, she was queen of all she surveyed.

“All that is here is yours,” Brian said, as if reading her mind.

It began to snow again in light, fine flakes. She saw the relief and raw anguish in his eyes, and all the tally of the things so long unsaid between them. She swayed on her feet. “All I want is to be out of this bitter cold,” she said, her voice cracking.

Immediately he was contrite. “Come within. I will send a messenger to Cirencester, to my lord of Gloucester, immediately. He will not yet have marched on Oxford.”

“He has no need,” she said wearily. “It is too late; the castle is lost.”

“Then how did you…”

“I do not know.” She blinked hard and rubbed her forehead.

“Dear God, Brian, I do not know.”

He beckoned and his wife stepped from the throng and curtseyed. “Domina,” she said. “Let me show you to a comfortable chamber.”

Matilda summoned the last of her strength and followed 403

LadyofEnglish.indd 403

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

the lady of Wallingford to a room on the upper floor of a fine timber hall. A large, warm fire burned in the hearth and a bed with a soft blanket of red and green stripes, topped by a folded silk quilt, was pushed against one wall. A pleasant scent of incense and beeswax filled the room. There were numerous shelves lined with scrolls and parchments tied up with ribbons, and there were books too. A lectern stood under a window to catch the best light,

“This is the warmest chamber in the castle,” Maude said. “I hope you find it fitting, domina.” Her gaze was closed and wary.

Matilda just wanted to lie on the bed and fall asleep, but would not do so in the presence of Brian’s wife. “It will suit me very well,” she said.

Servants arrived bearing fresh bread and hot wine. Maude directed them to set it down near the bed. A woman brought in a ewer of hot water and a towel.

“You should remove those wet boots or you will catch a chill,” Maude said with a cluck of her tongue. “Come, sit.”

Matilda was reminded of her old nursemaids. The woman had that deferential but bossy air about her and, apart from a gold brooch on her dress, was garbed like a peasant. Turning her back, Brian’s wife straddled Matilda’s legs to pull off her boots, grunting and tugging with effort, but eventually succeeding.

Maude then bathed Matilda’s icy feet in the warm water with thorough efficiency, all the time keeping her eyes lowered and her mouth set in a straight line. She brought some soft shoes lined with lambskin from their warming place at the hearth.

Matilda pushed her feet into them and the feeling was utter bliss. “Thank you,” she said with a more genuine smile for her hostess.

“I may be a simple woman,” Maude said, “but I know the things that matter. If you will excuse me, I have arrangements to make.”

404

LadyofEnglish.indd 404