To Defy a King (33 page)

The castle women jested with each other as they stirred great vats of pig blood to prevent it from clotting, and boiled cauldrons of lard to fill the cleaned-out bladders. Brine-pickling solutions had been made from the salt brought in by pack pony from Earl Roger's coastal villages. Spices had travelled from the family's wharf at Ipswich and all the knives had been sharpened on the whetstone until they gleamed with blue fire.

Agatha, one of the kitchen maids, eyed the pig parts on the slick bloody board in front of her. 'My husband says he never wants to see another pig's trotter on the table for dinner as long as he lives,' she declared, 'but I say he gets what I put in front of him and be thankful. Pickled, or sauced or stewed in honey, pig's trotters he will have and like it!'

The other women cackled and nudged each other and Mahelt laughed with them, enjoying the camaraderie.

Hugh came to the kitchen door and beckoned to her. He had been busy in his father's chamber and was clutching a roll of parchment. His breath was white vapour in the raw November air and his hat was pulled down low over his ears. Seeing the portent in his gaze, Mahelt wiped her hands, removed her apron and, having bid the women to keep at their stirring, joined him in the yard.

The slaughter was finished and the ground was being swilled down and brooms energetically applied. Hogs were still being scalded by the fire and men were busy with knives, hauling the carcasses up on rope tackles to gut them. Little Roger watched with interest, a floppy pig's ear clutched in one hand. Tripes, despite his advancing years, had managed to dart in and grab a chunk of offal and now lurked under a cart, devouring his prize.

Hugh drew Mahelt away from the noise and mess and sat her on a bench outside the new hall. 'A letter's come from your father to mine,' he said. 'I thought you'd want to know. Your father has offered his support to the King.

He says he will bring five hundred knights from Ireland and he and de Grey have managed to swing the support of the Irish lords behind John.' Hugh's expression was eloquently blank. 'Your father has advised the King to treat with the Pope and bring the excommunication to an end, because until John has the protection of the Church, all men have sanction to act against him.'

'I wish my father did not owe his loyalty to a creature like John,' she said vehemently.

Hugh rubbed the back of his neck. 'So do I, but your father does what he must according to his oath. The King has thanked him for his support but wants him to stay in Ireland for the time being to help the justiciar, and return in the spring when the crossings are better.' He handed her the parchment. 'Read for yourself.' His voice warmed. 'There's some good news too.'

Mahelt scanned the lines and then, giving a joyful shriek, flung her arms around Hugh and kissed him hard. 'My brothers are to be released and all the men who stand hostage for my father!'

Smiling, Hugh returned her embrace. 'Your father is restored to favour. The King needs loyal men of wisdom to advise him what to do about the Pope and King Philip.'

Mahelt released him to reread the message. Her delight at the news about her brothers and the hostages did not alter her feelings towards the King. 'When John is in trouble, he needs help from men willing to stand by him, but when times are favourable, he turns on them,' she said with contempt.

'I doubt he will tangle with your father again. He knows how popular the lord Marshal is and I think he has come to realise it is better to have him working for the Crown than being neutral or driven into opposition.'

Mahelt stood up, but could not resist reading the words one more time because, although written by a scribe, they were of her father's will and intent. Finally, reluctantly, she kissed the parchment and returned it to Hugh, who rolled it up and pushed it through his belt.

'At least with your father advising the King we might see some sense and decency brought into affairs of state,' he said. 'I may not trust John, but I do trust your father to do what is best for all.'

27

Salisbury, Wiltshire, December 1212

A hard frost covered the grass in feathery silver rime and the December air was knife-cold to breathe. Dusk was falling and the sky was a luminous turquoise over the gleaming white buildings of Salisbury Palace. The cathedral shone beside it, the magnificent west front a confection of masons'

work rising in glory to God. Standing on the palisade with Hugh, Mahelt gazed skywards and inhaled the frozen purity of the first stars, her breath short with anticipation.

She and her marital family were spending the Christmas celebration at Salisbury. Hugh said they had only been invited because Longespee wanted to show off the gold plate on his sideboard and lord it over everyone. Mahelt had nudged him and told him to be more charitable and tolerant, which had made Hugh raise his brows, although in the interests of self-preservation he had not commented on her own reputation where those virtues were concerned.

'There,' said Hugh, pointing outward over the palisade. 'Listen.'

Mahelt strained her ears and eyes. Hugh had the sharp senses of a fox. Then she heard it: the jingle of harness bells and the sound of voices. Narrowing her eyes, she made out shapes moving in the darkness towards the hill.

Someone at the head of the party bore a lantern and others, carried by retainers, glowed along the edges of the cavalcade, creating a bobbing snake of light in the deepening dusk. As they came closer, the blue and gold banners of Salisbury were just visible and the jingling grew louder.

Hugh lifted his son on to his shoulders to watch the procession.

'See,' said Mahelt. 'See, it's your uncle Will and your uncle Richard.' Her voice shook.

'Not forgetting your uncle Longespee,' Hugh added neutrally. The Bigod party had arrived a day ahead of the illustrious Earl of Salisbury and his vast entourage.

'Uncle Will, Uncle Richard,' little Roger repeated and pointed eagerly at the lanterns. Mahelt left the palisade and hurried down to the bailey where Ela was already waiting. Hugh followed more sedately, but joined Mahelt and set one hand to her shoulder in a gesture of affectionate support. He knew how much this meant to his wife and could feel her quivering under the palm of his hand. His mother arrived, breathless from her dash from the cathedral where she had lingered to pray when everyone had gone. She was robed in her best mulberry-coloured cloak and her eyes were sparkling as she anticipated the arrival of her firstborn son.

The horses clopped across the ditch, through the gatehouse arch and entered the bailey in clouds of lantern-lit steam from breath and hide. Longespee dismounted and Ela went forward to curtsey to him in greeting. He stooped and raised her up and kissed her on either cheek. Then he greeted his Bigod relatives and exchanged formal words of welcome.

Mahelt smiled and curtseyed and kissed him in a distracted fashion, but her attention was all for her brothers, and the instant she had finished her formal greeting to Longespee, she abandoned propriety and flew to embrace Will and Richard.

Richard engulfed her in a massive bear hug that took her breath. It had been six years since she had last seen him at Striguil. Now, a grown man of twenty-one years old, he towered over her, being at least the size of their father, and broad across the shoulders. Will looked as insubstantial as a youth against him, and even Hugh, who was well muscled and tall, might have been a squire.

'Perhaps you'll learn to value us now, instead of treating us as nuisances.'

Richard's voice was a deep rumble.

Mahelt ceased wiping her eyes to make a face at him. 'I've always valued you,' she retorted, 'but it doesn't prevent you from being a nuisance!'

'Well, we're here to bedevil you for a while now.' Richard clasped Hugh's arm and bestowed a mutual kiss of peace.

The gathering repaired to the private apartments where food waited on laden trestles and the fire gave out a roaring heat. Standing near the flames was rather like being near a smith's furnace, but the rest of the room was pleasantly warm.

Will gazed at his three-year-old nephew in astonishment. 'I cannot envisage you a mother' - he shook his head at Mahelt in bemusement - 'but who else's could he be? He looks just like you.'

'He is certainly his mother's son,' Hugh said drily as he handed a cup of wine to Mahelt and gently ruffled his son's dark hair.

'What of your other one?' Richard asked.

'He's in the nursery,' Mahelt replied. 'He's more like Hugh.'

'Keep him satisfied with food and attention and he doesn't shout,' Hugh said, tongue firmly in cheek, and earned himself a dig in the ribs from his wife. Rubbing his sore side with one hand, he raised his cup in toast to Mahelt's brothers with the other. 'Now you are no longer obliged to dwell in the royal household, where will you go?'

Will studied his shoes, suddenly seeming to find the embroidery on them of great import. 'I haven't decided yet. Striguil or Pembroke, most likely.' He avoided their eyes. 'Or perhaps I'll stay for a while at my father's manor at Caversham.' He raised his head to slant Hugh a challenging look. 'You need not fear. I shall not go anywhere north of the Trent.'

Hugh returned his gaze. 'I do not fear, brother,' he said. 'I know you will always have the greater good of your family at heart - and your father's honour.'

Will did not answer, but Richard took up the slack of the momentary silence and said, 'I'm going to Longueville in the spring. Our father wants me to assume governance there.'

Hugh eyed Richard keenly. The young man was heir to his family's estates across the Narrow Sea, but only had an inheritance there because his father had managed by some very rapid footwork to hold on to it when King John had lost Normandy. Richard's allegiance would be to King Philip, not to John. He would also be well placed to keep his family informed about what was happening at the French court. 'You are going to have much to do.'

Richard shrugged his wide shoulders. 'I was born to this duty and I have trained for it. I spent my childhood at Longueville and Orbec. Those places are the homes of my heart.' An irrepressible grin brightened his face.

'There's good tourneying to be had there in the summer too.'

Hugh received the impression that Richard was deliberately making light of matters. His smile was genuine, but it was also a mask, and beyond the humour in his eyes, there were shadows. Like Hugh, he had not emerged unscathed from Nottingham. At least he was going to be safely out of John's way in Normandy, and Philip of France was a reasonable overlord.

'You will stay a little while though?' Mahelt said anxiously.

'Of course, little sister, and I shall visit often. Do not expect to be rid of me so easily.'

Mahelt wagged her finger at him. 'You had better keep your word. I'm not going to give you up again.'

'I wouldn't dare renege,' he said wryly.

'I suppose you have heard the rumours about the King being deposed before Ascension Day?' Will said.

A servant replenished the cups. Hugh shook his head and looked uneasy.

'I thought you might have done with having lands in the North.'

'I've been at Framlingham of late,' Hugh said shortly, 'and I don't listen to rumours.'

Will ignored the hint not to pursue the subject. 'Some religious hermit accosted the King when he was hunting rebels up past Doncaster. Told him that by Ascension Day he would no longer be sovereign of the realm.'

'It is probably what the Church wishes since its revenues are going into John's coffers,' Hugh said dismissively. 'There are always men with strange notions in their heads.'

'Yes, but this one has been spreading the word in the towns and villages, and raising so much unrest that John has had him committed to prison until Ascension Day has passed. Perhaps he knows something.'

'If he does, he's more foolish than wise to spread it abroad - even for pay.'

For once Hugh was relieved to see Longespee join the gathering, because while he would have been glad to have John no longer king come next Ascension Day, he was not going to endanger himself or his family with foolish talk. Anyone might be listening, and the Longespee household was a loyal one.

Longespee was eager to talk about the warship John was having built for his command at Portsmouth. 'It'll have capacity for a hundred and twenty fighting men as well as crew and horses,' he said.

'Won't she be unwieldy and slow to manoeuvre?' Richard asked. 'She'll be a cog, not a fighting ship.'

'Oh, she'll not be as fast as a nef, but she'll have speed enough, and what she lacks in pace, she'll make up for in strength,' Longespee said confidently. 'I'll be manning her with the best crossbowmen silver can buy, and she'll have fighting castles built fore and aft.' He proceeded to elaborate in a loud voice with many flourishes. Hugh was irritated by such affectation, but nevertheless listened with interest, because he was familiar around ships himself and an accomplished sailor.

Ships were being built and commandeered because of the threat of invasion from France. Everyone knew King Philip was preparing an army to invade England with the intention of overthrowing John and putting Prince Louis on the throne. John was using the winter to make preparations and arm the south coast with vessels and troops to repulse that invasion with Longespee as his intended fleet commander. And, of course, Hugh thought with amused irritation, it meant Longespee had to have the best ship.

Growing bored with Longespee's boasting talk, Mahelt left the men to their strakes, steerboards and tides, and joined the women gathered round the fire, including Ida and Ela. Ela had recently been churched following the birth of her second son, Richard. The baby's hair had a coppery tinge, reminiscent of his royal grandsire. Ida kept leaning over the crib to coo at the infant and stroke his cheek. 'I am blessed to have my children and my grandchildren here,' she said with a smile. 'God in His mercy is bountiful, and I thank Him dearly.'

'I thank Him too,' Ela said. In the firelight she glowed like a young Madonna. She had grown in confidence now that she had secured two sons to her marriage and fulfilled her duty. Her glance rested on Longespee with affection and pride. 'I thought my husband might have to spend Christmas at court, but he has managed to escape for a short while.'