The Court of the Midnight King: A Dream of Richard III (9 page)

Where her hand rested on him, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Don’t, then. Forget everything a while. That’s why we met.”

He smiled at her. “And you? Your face was like a storm when I first saw you. Shall we comfort each other?”

She drew a breath. Strong instinct warned her not to spill her own troubles. “Nothing. A quarrel with my mother. I have no identity for you to guess.”

“Good. As long as your name isn’t Woodville. The queen has dozens of sisters, and they lie in wait everywhere.”

“It isn’t, I promise,” Kate answered, amused.

His hand slid up and closed around hers. Her breathing grew quicker and deeper. The sun-warmed velvet of his doublet smelled delicious, fragrant like cedarwood. The scent was on his skin. Beneath the doublet, his linen shirt was white and crisp, like may-blossom.

“I’m glad I met you, Kate. You’re so pretty.”

He kissed her, his lips light and sweet on hers. His arms went around her and she pressed against him, certain he must feel her heartbeat shaking her whole body. Then she knew that her fear of marriage was not a fear of men. In the space of a day she’d discovered the difference between a man who repulsed her, and one who drew her like a bee to nectar.

Kate hadn’t planned it, but she saw a new path in all its shining glory and ruin. A way to ensure that no marriage would be forced upon her. Drastic and wild, but that was the action she must take.

She felt him exhale. “I ought to go,” he said, reluctantly. “This isn’t right. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, Kate.” She felt him trembling, his young body taut against hers. There were too many layers of clothes between them. Her own hunger startled her, a sensation of dissolving heat. “I’ll ride with you back to your house.”

He spoke without conviction, but he gave her a choice. He was a gentleman, a chivalrous knight. If she said, yes, escort me home, he would do so without argument. Her choice. She stood poised on the fork of the path and her heart was pounding.

There was only this cocoon of time, suspended on the fringe of the hidden world. Nothing else existed. The world breathed around them, rich and iridescent.

“No, don’t go,” she said, laying her hand along his cheek.

He stared at her with intense eyes, torn. “Kate, if we stay here…”

“I know.”

“It isn’t right.”

“Yes, it is,” she breathed, her mouth almost touching his. “It is.”

“But I may never see you again.”

“Yes, that’s it!” She kissed his neck, and he gasped. “We are never going to see each other again. This is our only chance.”

“Oh, Kate.” He groaned, surrendering.

She expected to be frightened, but she wasn’t. It was easy. Awkward, for they both suffered the clumsiness of inexperience. If he’d done this before, she was sure it wasn’t many times, if at all. They laughed at their ineptness, and then it didn’t matter. There was only slight pain, nothing she couldn’t bear, and soon the discomfort eased into a richer sensation. Yes, the easiest thing in the world. Coupling wasn’t terrible but sweet, as her mother had told her it could be, ineffably delicious, gentle and transporting, a flight through the mysteries of the hidden world.

And forbidden. She could not possibly be doing this with someone she had met barely an hour ago, a stranger… but she was and exaltation filled her. They laughed together. The green world trembled.

###

Kate went to refill the empty flask with water from a nearby spring and brought it to him. He unsaddled his horse; she watched the care with which he tended the animal. Then they quenched their thirst, twined their bodies together joyfully, naked now, and made love again. Dusk fell. The world turned blue and the denizens of the hidden world whispered around them. Kate saw their firefly eyes over her lover’s shoulder, and smiled.

Eventually, forgetting themselves, they slept.

Kate woke suddenly to a cold, dewy dawn and found herself looking at a stranger.

They’d pulled their clothes back on for warmth and the night had not been cold, but now, without his arms around her, she was freezing. Her dress was soaked. Richard was kneeling, dishevelled and trying to lace his shirt with shaking hands. As she rose, he regarded her with a wary look, bordering on accusation. All enchantment had gone.

Kate sat up in sharp dread. “Oh, dear Iesu, my mother will be going out of her mind.”

He said nothing. He looked very young, grim and almost frightened.

“Richard?” She tried to shift her dress to fall properly, shaking out the damp underskirts. “Are you well? You’re looking at me as if I were a ghost.”

He took a deep breath. He was as white as the dawn. “I’ve remembered where I saw you before.”

“Oh? Where?”

“I think you know.”

“Really, I don’t.”

He rose, fastening his doublet and making a poor job of it. When she went to help him, he stepped back.

“What have I done?” she said, frowning.

“I should have realised.” His face took on the hardness she’d seen when he spoke of Earl of Warwick. “It’s obvious you’re a witch. I shouldn’t have been taken in.”

“Taken in?”

“I recognise this… otherworld. I’ve been here before. Yesterday was too beautiful to be real, and there were spectres all around us, demons in my dreams all night…”

Kate’s face gave her away. What he said was true, at least in part.

“It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t deny it, then? No doubt you thought I was under your spell. Do you lie in wait to ensorcell any unsuspecting knight who happens to pass?”

“Ensorcell you? Don’t flatter yourself! Great Goddess, you make me sound like Morgana lying in wait for King Arthur! Richard, don’t be angry. It wasn’t that at all.”

“I thought this was beautiful and innocent. All deceit. They warn us against demonesses who lie in wait to tempt men into sin. I should have known. Iesu’s blood, what have I done?”

He went to saddle his horse. She followed him. “I suppose your priests tell you the otherworld is evil. They know nothing.”

“And I know too much,” he said. “It’s profane, outside the realm of God, full of horrors – and deceitful enchantments. The world is a battleground of light and dark and I won’t be dragged into the dark!”

Kate stood hugging herself against the cold. She was hurt and offended. To her the hidden world was a place of wonder. Yet she couldn’t summon the strength to argue. If this was what Richard believed, she was unlikely to change his mind. The shock of what they’d done was setting in.

Suddenly she wished he had been a lad like Tom, after all, and not this guarded, difficult nobleman.

She couldn’t argue with Richard, because he was right. She’d asked Auset for a sign, and he’d appeared; but Auset had still given her a choice. Kate had drawn him into the hidden world and enchanted him.

Other men might have been grateful.

“You should know, I don’t make a habit of it,” she said tightly. “It was my first time.”

He stopped buckling straps, and gazed at her across the bay’s saddle. His eyes were like ice. She began to hate him for looking at her like that.

She added, “You must have realised.”

The flicker in his eyes was guilt. Of course he realised. “How could you do that? Just – give yourself to a stranger?” he exclaimed.

Kate arched her eyebrows. “How could you, gentle knight?”

He was almost speechless. She imagined that, when he grew older, his severity would be frightening. “That’s different. That’s utterly different!”

“Why?”

“It’s obvious. How could you give a stranger your virginity, which should have been kept for your husband?”

“Because they’re forcing me to marry I man I find loathsome! I set out to ruin myself, so no one would want me!”

If she meant to prove she was human, and not a succubus, she failed. He looked horrified.

“And you thought you’d use me in this monstrous scheme?”

“It wasn’t a scheme.” She wanted them to part with affection, not angry words, but he’d gone too far. If he wanted a witch, he would get one. “My poor suitor shall be ten times more outraged than you, and I shall laugh in his face. And be careful whom you call monstrous, Richard of Gloucester, lest it come back to haunt you.”

He finished saddling the bay, checked its legs and hooves, and flung the reins over its wide neck. Mab’s nostrils flared and she shifted, eager to follow.

When Richard spoke again, his zeal had faded. “How shall I find my way out of here?”

“The hidden world is everywhere,” said Kate. “Tell King Edward that the faeries abducted you, and you woke up a hundred miles away.”

“Haven’t you had enough sport with me?”

“You wandered into the hidden world and you’ve been here a day and a night. I could keep you here forever. Didn’t they teach you not to offend the faerie folk?”

He led his fidgeting horse in a half-circle, which brought him face-to-face with her. “Please, Kate.” The intense sombre radiance of his face struck painful longing through her. She recalled his silky hair under her fingers… “I didn’t mean to offend you. Is there a correct way to behave? If I give you a gift, will you show me the path?”

“Something to remember you by?” She thought of asking for a lock of hair; then he’d fear her witchcraft for the rest of his life. She wanted to ask for a kiss, but pride wouldn’t let her. “Give me your white boar.”

He hesitated.

“I’ll keep it close and secret,” she said. “I won’t use it for sorcery against you, on the word of a witch. I’ll look at it and never forget you.”

“This will not be easy to forget,” he said quietly. He unpinned the badge and pressed it into her palm. “Which way?”

His eagerness to leave hardened her heart. Disillusioned, all she wanted now was for him to go. He’d served his purpose. Did people always feel guilty after lust and turn the blame on each other? If so, it was detestable.

“That way,” she said, pointing to the track on which he’d first appeared. “You’ll see your path. You may see many paths, so choose the right one.” She heard her mother’s voice coming out of her, and felt powerful. “No creature of the twilight will harm you while you’re under our protection. Go.”

Richard gave her a last glance, grim and fearful. Then the big bay carried him off through the trees in plunging leaps. Katherine stood and watched until he was out of sight.

Once he was gone, her heart sank. Now she must go back and face her mother’s anguish. She’d committed a mad act of defiance, coldly regretted in the dregs of dawn. And now, because of his attitude, she couldn’t even remember her lover fondly. She was no sorceress, just an unhappy girl; but neither aspect, apparently, could please the Duke of Gloucester.

Kate went and put her arms around her mare’s neck.

“Nothing I’ve done has made anything better,” she said against the damp mane. “All I’ve done is to make things worse, Mab. Come on. I’ll go and face my punishment with my head in the air.”

###

Arriving home, she ran upstairs into the solar and collided with her mother, who came rushing to the doorway to meet her. Katherine braced herself for loud fury, even a blow. Instead, Eleanor threw her arms around her, and held her so close she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t even mention her ruined dress.

“Kate, where have been? Thomas has men riding the whole demesne, looking for you! Thank Auset you’re all right.”

“I’ve done something terrible,” said Kate. Her voice came out rough with regret. “I’m sorry, but I’d rather die than have a husband forced upon me. I met a man in Blackthorn Griffe and I let him…”

“Kiss you? What?”

Kate shook her head, and held her mother’s horrified gaze.

“Everything. I lay with him all night. Now George Stanley won’t want me, and nor will anyone else. With any luck, I’m with child. If not, I shall stuff a bolster under my dress and moan and sigh and have Martha help me out of my seat to greet him!”

Eleanor gaped at her. Never before had Kate managed to place such astonishment in her mother’s eyes. And then such complete agony that Kate would have done anything to take back all her words and actions.

In the dreadful silence, a shape moved on the far side of the firegrate. A broad silhouette, sheathed in plum damask, rose from a chair.

Too late, Kate saw Anne Beauchamp, the Countess of Warwick. The last person in the world she would have wished to overhear her confession.

“Eleanor, perhaps I had better leave you and your daughter alone?”

I am the Queen of war

I am the Queen of the thunderbolt

I stir up the sea and I calm it.

I am in the rays of the sun…

I set free those in bonds…

I overcome Fate.

Aretalogy of Isis

Katherine waited for the firmament to fall. Eleanor stood rigid, with flooded eyes. The countess was a statue in the background.

Waves of regret flowed through her, more intense by the second. She’d meant to outrage her mother, show how desperate she was; not to break her heart. Then, incredibly, her mother began to laugh.

“Kate, please tell me you are joking. What am I going to do with you?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “Mother, every word I’ve told you is true. I met a young man I’d never seen before and I deliberately gave myself to him. I set out to make myself unfit for marriage. And I’m sorry.”

Eleanor’s laughter stopped. She groaned, and studied her as if weighing whether to believe her or not. Her daughter was not a liar, she knew. Kate saw the shadow-play of thoughts behind her eyes. There was no anger, only intense mortification, and that was worse.

“Oh, love, have you really done this? There was no need to go to such extremes! I’d rather we had argued all night, than this. Of course I won’t make you marry against your will.”

Heat pricked Katherine’s eyes. “That’s not what you said yesterday.”

Eleanor put her arms tight around her daughter. “I was beleaguered. In a moment of complete despair, I thought we must give up and play by their rules instead. Adopt a more subtle game, rather than wage a war we can’t win. I never thought you’d react so wildly!” She looked into Kate’s eyes and smoothed hair off her forehead. “You’re in disarray. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. And I can save the dress; it’s only damp.” Kate gave a few quiet sobs. Light flushed the windows; another beautiful May day, cruelly echoing the one before.

“And I suppose it did not occur to you to employ any precaution in which I’ve schooled you?”

Kate dropped her head. “No, because I didn’t go out there anticipating… I’m so sorry, Mama.”

“And so am I, love. I shouldn’t have considered Stanley’s proposal for a moment.”

“But I should have done. I’ve been utterly selfish.”

The Countess of Warwick stirred. “Eleanor, I’ll leave you to resolve this… painful matter.”

“No, Anne, don’t go,” Eleanor said over Kate’s shoulder. “You’ve heard the worst – I hope. Your counsel on this disaster would be welcome.” She held Kate away from her and looked intently into her eyes. “We can’t afford to make enemies of men who could take everything from us. I must think of another way to appease them.”

“Come, sit down,” said the countess. Eleanor led Kate to a settle with a red tapestry seat, and their guest returned to her tall chair beside the fire. Her face was stern, but warmer than Kate expected. “Katherine, I don’t need to point out how shocking your confession has been. If one of my own daughters behaved in this way, I don’t know how I would begin to deal with her. In fact, it’s impossible to imagine such thoughts entering Isabel’s and Anne’s dutiful minds.”

Eleanor acknowledged this dig with a slow, cool blink.

“However, let’s be pragmatic. It’s not the end of the world.”

Kate started. “Isn’t it?”

“Why does young Stanley need to know you are not virgin? Worse indiscretions have been overlooked. Whatever the Church says, when it comes to the point, the quality most valued in a potential wife is not virtue, but land. Of course you can still marry.”

Katherine was both relieved and dismayed. “Can I?”

Eleanor snorted. “Oh, that will look fine, if her belly swells up with another man’s child!”

“Then let them marry quickly, and he’ll never know.”

“I’ll do it,” Kate said quickly. “Without a word of complaint.”

“No. You won’t,” said Eleanor.

“Mama, to save Lytton Dale. Nothing else matters!”

“But you were right to be furious at me! I promised we’d hold our manor in our own right. We’ll think of another way.”

Kate had meant what she said, but her mother’s response filled her with relief.

“Risky,” said the countess. “What if she is with child?”

Eleanor sighed. “Anne, it was only once.”

Three times, actually, thought Kate. Or was it four?

“Once is sufficient,” Anne Beauchamp replied crisply.

“Well, then, I’ll do what I’ve done for a dozen other girls. We’ll keep it secret, bring a girl here to look after the babe and say it is hers. It won’t be the first time… although I never dreamed I might have to do it for you, Lady Katherine.”

Her mother’s blunt practicality shocked Kate. She turned faint with remorse.

“Mama, I’m truly sorry. I was distraught. I asked Auset to show me a way out, and he appeared.”

The older women exchanged a look. The countess said, “Well, there’s a lesson in the danger of taking the Dark Mother’s signs too literally. You can see why so many are against us. Ours is a tortuous path, not for the simple-minded.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m simple-minded, my lady,” Kate said delicately. “I don’t blame Auset. She gave me a choice. At any time, I could have left and come home untouched. I chose to go on.”

Anne Beauchamp’s crepey, deep-lidded eyes flared with disapproval. “You’re certainly candid, child. Others might have denied everything, or claimed to have been ravished.”

“I brought her up to be honest,” Eleanor put in. “An essential quality in a priestess.”

“Who was he?” The countess’s eyebrows rose in a firm arch, prompting her.

“No one,” said Kate, taken aback. “I don’t know.”

“He must have told you his name.”

“I don’t wish to lie. I can’t say.”

Anne leaned forward suddenly, plucking at something in a fold of Kate’s bodice. “Where did you get this? From him?”

It was the white boar badge of pearl and diamond, set in heavy silver. Kate had pinned it there for safekeeping, and forgotten. She watched, helpless, as the countess removed the jewel and examined it. “Do you know whose badge this is?”

She exhaled. “Yes, of course I do.”

“So he was a servant of the Duke of Gloucester. That narrows the field.”

They were both looking hard at her. She flushed with heat. “Does this matter?”

“It might,” said Eleanor. “I could half believe your tale was a figment of your imagination, until I saw this token. Is Anne right?”

“Not a servant,” Kate breathed. “He was the Duke of Gloucester.”

Outside, she heard birdsong, sheep bleating, a horse neighing. She wished she was out riding Mab… to turn back time by a day.

Eventually the countess spoke. “It’s highly unlikely Richard would be near here; not impossible, of course. The jewel is fine enough to be his, but might be stolen.”

“He was a true nobleman, not a thief.” For her pride’s sake, she wanted them to believe her.

“What did he look like?”

Kate described him. She watched the countess turn grey and drape her hands over her eyes. “He should be brought to task for this.”

“No!” Kate cried, horrified. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell a soul!”

“But he’s behaved disgracefully. It must have been apparent to him that you were of good breeding, not some dairymaid, or…”

“My lady, I know dairymaids who wouldn’t behave as badly as me. What recompense do you expect of him? Money, as if I were a whore?”

“Katherine.” The countess sat upright, fixing her with a firm stare. “I feel half to blame. You know, don’t you, that he grew up as a ward in our household? He is to me, if not a son, at least very close. I’m ashamed. An apology and repentance would be something.”

“No,” Kate said emphatically. “I want no apology. He doesn’t even know who I am. If you say something, he will know. Others will find out, gossip will spread, and I’ll be utterly humiliated. If he thinks of me as a witch, at least he’ll remember me with a little healthy fear. If I present myself as a victim, he’ll see me in a different light, with pity or even contempt. I couldn’t bear that. Let it be forgotten!”

The two women looked at each other. “She has a point,” said Eleanor.

Kate stood and went to the window, her arms folded, while her elders argued. This fuss was hateful. She felt like diving headfirst through the glass into the herb garden.

Eventually the countess sighed. “Mystifying, how one so sharp can be given to such rash idiocy. Very well, Kate. It’s your choice. The next time I see him I shall bite my tongue – for your sake.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise. On my life, on the holy book, and on the cauldron of the sacred Serpent.”

“Thank you, my lady.” She came back and curtseyed. “I apologise for being so rude.”

“I’m growing quite used to you,” the countess said with a dry smile. “You put me in mind of my Isabel – your pertness, not your behaviour.”

“This is awful,” Kate said, sitting down with her head in her hands. “Why did it have to be him, of all people? How did my path cross with his, and not with that of some shepherd or farm boy…”

“Katherine!” Eleanor snapped. “May I point out that you should not have been trying to cross paths with anyone?”

“Here, keep this,” said the countess. She put the badge in Kate’s damp palm. The small tusks of the boar were sharp, and dug into her. “Did he… speak of the king’s troubles at all?”

Kate looked up, wary. “A little. He seemed upset.”

“You are probably aware that my good husband, the Earl of Warwick, has differences with King Edward.”

Eleanor’s eyebrows flicked in surprise. “If you can call stirring an actual rebellions and spreading seditious rumours about him ‘differences’. To be honest, I’m surprised to see you, Anne.”

The countess’s stately expression did not change. “You see how hard it is not to take sides. My husband has a genuine grievance. Not least, his hard work of diplomacy being thrown back at him with the news that Edward had married the Woodville widow. In secret! Even Edward realised the shameful haste of it.”

Kate wondered what was wrong with the queen’s pedigree. She knew how imperative bloodlines, land and titles were to the nobility, for they shed each other’s blood over it constantly – but in her heart, she couldn’t see why it mattered. Aware of sounding naive, she asked, “Was it wrong for the king to marry for love?”

“Certainly it was silly of him to marry for lust,” Anne Beauchamp snapped. “Still, that’s not the issue. It was a tactless, wasteful union that’s brought the kingdom near ruin and, in the process, made my husband look a fool.”

“This must be difficult for you,” Eleanor said mildly. Her hand rose to play with Kate’s hair.

“Well, yes; but in what sense?”

“Your husband’s strength put Edward upon the throne. You wanted the Motherlodge to help him. You told us he was chosen and divinely appointed. Have you and your noble husband now changed your minds? It’s one thing to fall out with someone; quite another to claim that a king is divine, and then to rescind that claim.”

Anne Beauchamp’s face became stormy. “I’m aware of that.”

“So which line do you take? That your husband is right and your own instincts were wrong? Or do you claim that Edward was only best appointed, and now another might be better appointed… or just more usefully appointed?”

The countess stared at her. “Eleanor, what have I said to deserve this outburst? This is my husband’s quarrel, not mine. I’m bound to support him, of course. In the outer world, a wife has no voice but her husband’s.”

“Anne!” Eleanor lifted her hands, exasperated. “You are talking to a sister, not to a bishop! What do you believe?”

Her voice fell. “That Edward has shown foolish impulsiveness, but that does not make him a bad king. I wish this had never begun. I’m as uneasy about the earl’s actions as you, but I cannot stop him. He won’t listen to me. And I must safeguard my daughters’ future.”

“Anne, if you now want the Motherlodge to work against Edward, I can’t condone it. If he was best appointed before, he still is. If anything, the lodge has swayed in his favour. It’s in our interests to support him.”

“So, the keepers of the Cauldron are becoming partial, after all?”

“It’s been happening for some time, since the Duke of York died and Marguerite let loose her mercenaries upon us. Henry attracts the pious, those who most want to destroy us. King Edward is a kinder master. He couldn’t care less about us, which isn’t ideal, but better than an active drive to remove us. I need his protection now, more than ever. Even Dame Eylott and Dame Marl agree. We need Edward’s protection.”

The countess exhaled through her nose. “Dear, you misunderstand. I’m not here to persuade you against the king. I came to say that I most fervently hope that these surface quarrels will not affect our friendship. Must they?”

“Well, no,” Eleanor said, sitting forward. “As long as we don’t bring them to meetings.”

“It’s not a good idea for me to appear at the Motherlodge until the quarrel is over. But it may be settled in a month, everyone amicable again. You know how they are; at each other’s throats one moment, swearing undying love and fealty the next.”