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Authors: Elizabeth Chadwick

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BOOK: To Defy a King
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'All the more so now I no longer have to carry him around!' Mahelt laughed.

'He has Hugh's nose, I think, but my eyes. Hugh will say he has my temper, but I think that is all to the good.'

Ela forced a tepid smile and placed one hand to her belly. She was wearing a fashionable tightly laced dress and her figure was as flat as a board. Mahelt said quickly, 'It will be all right. The Queen has only just borne King John a son and they've been married for seven years.'

Ela looked pensive. 'I have been praying and doing the things that the midwives tell me, but William has been away a lot and we have not shared a bed in a while.' She looked down at her hands. 'My husband is such a proud man.'

Mahelt heard what went unsaid. Hugh having a male heir would gall Longespee who always felt he had to be the best because of his royal blood.

'Then you must get him into your bed,' she said. 'Prayer and midwives are useless if you do not have the other ingredient. It's no use having a prepared flowerbed and no one to plant the seed.'

Ela flushed. 'I know that.' She watched the nurse pat the baby dry, bind him in swaddling and lay him in the cradle. 'But I do not want my husband to think I am being forward or immodest.'

'I do not think you will have to worry about that,' Mahelt said, suspecting that little Roger's birth was going to make Longespee very attentive in that department, opportunity permitting, and she could not imagine Ela being immodest if she tried.

The baby settled to sleep and Mahelt lay down for a nap too, but she did not miss the way that Ela tiptoed from the room and went into the adjoining chapel to kneel and pray.

The next morning, Ela was reading to Mahelt from a
lai
of Marie de France, when they heard the light dash of footfalls on the stairs. The door flung open and Ida hurtled into the room, breathless and flushed, the bottom of her dress all muddy from travel. 'Where is he?' she cried, her eyes alight. 'Where is he?' She beamed at Mahelt and Ela and at the same time hurried over to the cradle and peered into it. The nurse was fetching clean swaddling and the baby was naked on his fleece cover. As Ida leaned over him his small fingers accidentally caught the blue jewel hanging around her neck and tightened in a fist.

'Oh!' Ida was immediately and utterly besotted. 'Look, he's already reaching for things and he's scarcely born! He'll be a bold warrior, this one!'

With tender care, she picked him up and cradled him to her bosom while gently untangling his fingers from the chain around her neck. 'The firstborn of my son and his wife and a future earl.' Tearfully she kissed and dandled him, and came to Mahelt's bedside. 'You have done so well!'

Mahelt smiled. 'He is beautiful, isn't he?' she said a little smugly.

With great reluctance, Ida handed him to the wet nurse to be swaddled and then sat down at the bedside, oblivious to the mud-splattered hem of her gown. 'Was it painful? I am sorry I was not here, but you took everyone by surprise!'

Mahelt screwed up her face. 'It was worse than the stomach ache I had from eating green apples when I was little, and it was hard work, but at least the result is more rewarding.' She glanced at the nurse who was busy with the yards of swaddling bands. 'Ela has kept me kind and good company.'

Ela reddened and smiled, although the curve of her lips was a little strained.

'You're a good girl,' Ida said with warm approval before addressing Mahelt again. 'Have the messengers been sent out with the news?'

'Yes. To Hugh and the Earl and to my parents in Ireland.'

Ida's gaze shone. 'Their first grandchild. They will be so proud of you, and I know Hugh will be ready to burst.'

There was such warmth in Ida's voice that Mahelt felt choked. 'Come,' Ida said. 'Let me comb your hair and sing to my grandson as I work.'

Ela rose. 'I shall have food and drink fetched, Mama, and water for you to wash away the dust.'

'Oh don't worry about that!' Ida laughed, but then looked down at herself and chewed her lip. 'Although I suppose I do resemble a harridan!'

'Never!' both daughters-in-law protested in unison.

'You are sweet girls,' Ida said. 'Now I think on it, wine and food would not come amiss, and perhaps a clean gown.'

Ela hurried from the room on her errand. Ida fetched combs and a pot of nutmeg-scented powder and set about grooming Mahelt's burnished dark tresses. 'I had hair like yours when I was a girl,' she said. 'You would not think it now, but once it was as lustrous and thick as the richest damask.

Now it is best hidden under a wimple of that cloth instead.' Her tone was wistful as she dipped the comb in a bowl of rose water and smoothed it through Mahelt's hair, leaving behind a warm summery perfume.

'Ela worries about being barren,' Mahelt said.

Ida's smile faded. 'What will be, will be, although I pray she and my son will be blessed in time. I hope God does not punish them because of me.'

'Because of you?' Mahelt stared at her mother-in-law with surprise.

'I fornicated with King Henry when I was a young girl at court and my son was the result. I have done penance for my sin ever since and tried to live as a virtuous wife and mother, but I cannot help wondering if it is my fault.'

'Of course it isn't!' Mahelt was shocked that Ida was still suffering for something that had happened so long ago. Her mother-in-law had occasions when she was quiet and brooding, but Mahelt had never really thought about the cause, or else had blamed the Earl. 'It's just that they haven't been together very often. The King is always sending him away from home. It will be all right, I know it will.'

'I hope so.' Ida removed the blue jewel from around her neck and tied it to the top of the cradle where it winked and sparkled as she set her foot to the rocker. 'I want all of my children to fulfil themselves and be happy, and their children after them. If I could have one thing in all the world it would be this, but I know it is more easily wished for than accomplished.'

Hugh and his father sat in their tent at Norham near the Scots border, drinking wine that was sour from several weeks in the barrel, having been sloshed around on shipboard and then jogged on pack pony and cart all the way here. The tents of the English army spread as far as Hugh's eyes could see, like fairy rings of autumnal mushroom. Opposing them, William the Lion of Scotland had fewer troops to command and even fewer resources.

He didn't possess as many knights and their equipment was not up to the standard of the English. It was said that what they lacked in numbers they made up for in ferocity, but then again, what they had in fierceness they lacked in discipline.

All that day, John and the Scots king had been in conference, hammering out a harsh understanding - namely that John would not send his English army across the border to ravage Scotland to bloody bones, providing that King William disbanded his own army, paid the sum of fifteen thousand marks, and handed over his two legitimate daughters as hostages with the agreement that in future they would be married to English barons of John's choosing.

The terms had been put forward in diplomatic language, but the discussions had been robust.

Longespee paused at the Bigod tent on his way to his own pavilion to change his tunic for the forthcoming banquet. As he tasted the proffered wine, a muscle ticked under his eye.

'Reminds me of the old days at court,' Roger said to him ruefully. 'Your father's barrels were notorious for the vinegar in them.'

'I was too young then to be a victim. But I've heard about it.' Longespee sucked in his cheeks and swirled the contents of his goblet. 'Wine never travels well on campaign.' He shot a look at Roger and Hugh. 'What do you think about the King removing the shrievalties of Lancashire and Yorkshire from Roger de Lacey?'

Roger shrugged. 'John needs a solid backbone in the North. At least with this treaty the Scots won't bother us again for a while and if the northern border has loyal men in place, we won't have to constantly watch our backs.

I'm not saying de Lacey is disloyal - I like the man - but his son is fickle and the family has relatives across the Irish Sea who are not trustworthy.'

Hugh eyed his half-brother. 'What is John going to do with that fine of fifteen thousand marks from the Scots?'

Longespee's expression immediately closed. 'He has several irons in the fire.'

'When doesn't he?' Hugh looked up as a messenger arrived at the tent entrance. He had obviously ridden hard and the stink of horse and sweat was so pungent it was almost visible, but there was a huge grin on his face as he took a packet of sealed parchments from his satchel and knelt to the men.

'My lords, I am bidden to greet you and tell you that the lady Mahelt Bigod was delivered of a fine healthy son four days since on Assumption eve.'

Hugh seized the message, broke the seal and read the words before grabbing the man, hauling him to his feet and embracing him as if he were his best friend. He yelled to a lurking squire to bring more wine. 'Find the best we have, or go and buy it. I want to toast this in sweetness. A son! The first time and I have a son!' From hugging the messenger, Hugh grabbed Longespee and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek.

Longespee held himself rigid under such common onslaught. 'Great news,'

he said with a half-hearted smile as Hugh went to throw his arms around his father, who was wearing a satisfied grin.

Hugh turned back to the messenger. 'My wife is well, you say?'

'Yes, my lord, and sends you her greetings. The babe has been baptised Roger as you wished.'

The squire returned with a barrel of wine he had managed to cajole from the Earl of Oxford's steward, Oxford being blood kin to the babe about to be toasted. The barrel was swiftly broached and measures handed around.

'To my son and to my grandson, future Earls of Norfolk!' Roger declared, lifting his cup above his head. Everyone drank and the wine this time was actually half decent.

'To my wife!' Hugh responded. 'And to my father the reigning Earl, long may he prosper!' Again men drank and cups were refilled.

Longespee stayed for the first two toasts but declined to refill again and observed with disdain that the messenger and other servants were being allowed to stay and drink. It was all highly inappropriate but it was typical Bigod behaviour. A terrible weight of envy swelled within his chest. That Hugh had begotten a son before him was unbearable. It sickened him to see Hugh puffed up with pride and the old Earl looking like a bullfrog. Excusing himself, he flourished in a mannerly fashion from the tent but once outside, he clenched his fists and stalked back to his own pavilion in a foul mood.

Hugh pressed an extra day's wages into the messenger's hand. 'Go and find a billet for yourself among my men. I will write a letter to my lady, but tell her I'll be home as soon as I may. Two weeks at the most.'

'My lord.' The man tugged his forelock and left the tent.

'I remember when you were born,' his father said in a nostalgic tone. 'I thought I was the king of the world. When I saw you lying in your cradle, I knew there could be no better moment in my life . . . and now my son has a son.'

They embraced again and emotion prickled Hugh's eyes. His father cleared his throat in a gruff businesslike manner. 'Your wife. I may have seemed harsh on her, but she had to know the boundaries. I am well pleased at the way she has settled down and done her duty.'

Hugh felt a glimmer of irritation at the remark, but he understood why his father had said it and for him, when everything was in its place, all was right with the world. 'I had better go and tell her brothers they have a new nephew.'

His father nodded, but raised a finger in warning. 'Do not stay with them for too long and mind what you say because I have no doubt we are being watched.'

'I have their measure.' Hugh managed to keep the impatience out of his voice. His father's lecturing was wearisome, even if it was born out of concern.

He found Will and Richard in the company of the two Johns: FitzRobert and de Lacey. Although such a gathering was predictable and almost expected, Hugh's nape still prickled because this was not safe company. Richard gave Hugh a cheerful grin and made room for him to join them over a pile of harness which they were ostensibly cleaning.

'Do you want to assist?' he enquired. 'There's a nice bridle here that needs a polish. Plenty of embellishment and fiddly bits.'

Will had propped his feet on a low camp table and was leaning back on his chair. 'Don't be an idiot, Richard,' he said archly. 'Our good brother-in-law isn't staying. His father won't let him.'

Hugh's eyes narrowed at being talked to in so insolent a manner by a lad of nineteen years old, but he held his peace because this was a moment for joy not rancour. 'I've come to tell you that I have a son and you a nephew.

Mahelt has been safely delivered of a boy child.'

Richard immediately gave a loud whoop, leaped to his feet and clapped Hugh across the shoulders. 'Great news!'

A slow smile spread across Will's face and the caution and belligerence faded from his expression, revealing the winsome dark-eyed youth lurking beneath the hard exterior of world-weary man. He took his feet off the table and came to embrace Hugh. 'I am delighted for you and Mahelt. Give her my love, and blessings to the child.' He laughed. 'The girl has made me an uncle. Suddenly I feel all ancient and responsible.'

BOOK: To Defy a King
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