Daughter of the Last King, page 22
part #1 of Conquest I Series
‘They were loyal to Duke Robert, the eldest son,’ she said. ‘They were sworn to it.’
‘Then they were in the wrong country,’ FitzHamon told her quietly. ‘Are you also in the wrong country, wife?’
‘No, Robert,’ she said quickly. ‘I love my brothers and mourn their losses and disgraces, but I am true to you, and to King Henry.’
I felt sorry to see her so humbled. Since she had given him no heir she was in a very weak position and another lord, one less straight than FitzHamon, might have used the fall of her family as an excuse to put her aside and take another wife who would prove more fertile ground for sons. He might do so yet.
FitzHamon told us Lady Sybil and I were also summoned to the king’s Easter court at Winchester.
‘Nest?’ Sybil asked. ‘Why does he summon her?’
‘She is a woman now and the king will dispose of her.’ I looked up at him, but he said nothing more. Either he did not know the king’s intentions regarding me or he had decided not to tell us. If Arnulf had been tainted as a traitor, then he was surely an unlikely candidate for my husband now.
17
The Fall
King Henry’s Easter court in that year, 1102, was held in Winchester, the ancient seat of the Saxon kings. It took us near a week to reach the city, travelling by river and road. The cross-shaped layout of Winchester, with its four gates in the old walls and four main streets crossing in the middle, made it easy to find your way about. Houses and shops clustered outside the walls. The royal mints and forges were busy with the sizzle of metal smelting and the tang of metal hammering loud in the street. The royal treasure was kept here in the palace, heavily guarded. Pilgrims crowded the city, visiting Saint Swithun’s Priory and the saint’s shrine and they gawped at the king’s finely dressed courtiers, riding down the streets. The tombs of the West Saxon and Norse royalty: King Alfred, King Canute and Queen Emma, had been moved from the old minster to the new cathedral recently built by Bishop Walkelin. William Rufus was buried beneath the new tower of the cathedral and, remembering his loud brashness, I wondered that it was stilled and silent now in a stony grave. The cathedral’s font showed the miracles of Saint Nicholas, the kindly children’s saint, and I studied the images carefully so that I could describe them to Mabel and Hawise when I returned.
The mood at the court was sombre and nervous after the recent rebellion. Sybil and I entered the hall and moved through the crowd of people slowly, trying to make our way nearer to the front. I was glad to see Elizabeth, who plucked me by the sleeve and pulled me forward and close to her, tucking my arm under hers. Henry and Matilda were seated on thrones and the king’s justiciar, Roger, bishop of Salisbury, stood before them, making announcements of the king’s will. I had expected Henry to catch my eye with his previous flirtatious humour, but he did not look in my direction. Queen Matilda had been delivered of a healthy baby daughter two months before and looked well.
Archbishop Anselm attended the court, but FitzHamon told us he was in conflict with King Henry on the matter of the king’s powers to invest bishops. To everyone’s surprise, Ranulf Flambard appeared and was restored as bishop of Durham. Obviously, that wily man had played fast and loose between the two brothers in the recent war and done well in a deal to switch to Henry’s side. I searched in vain for sight of his sorceress mother, but I did glimpse Haith in the crowd of knights close to the king and he lifted his hand to me in greeting. I disentangled myself from Elizabeth and dropped him a curtsey, smiling at his cheerful face. Elizabeth elbowed me. ‘See Ansfride?’ She nodded her head discreetly toward the king’s mistress, who was seated in a place of honour. ‘She has borne Henry three children; all being cared for in the royal nursery. Richard, Juliane and Fulk. What do you think our pious queen thinks about it?’ I offered no response but took Sybil’s hand as she came up alongside us. She was looking around, but there was no sign yet of any of her brothers. Master Richard Belmeis, very splendidly attired in a bright yellow tabard that did not suit his sallow complexion at all, stood not far from us, at the side of the crowd.
Roger de Montgomery and Arnulf, it transpired, had chosen to disregard the king’s summons. Roger had cut his losses in England, forfeiting his vast lands in Lancashire, and returned to his wife’s county in France, preferring not to risk the king’s ire. Arnulf was reported to be in Ireland. I feared what the outcome of this defiance might be for Gerald. Roger of Salisbury announced that Arnulf’s non-appearance was confession of his crimes and the king therefore stripped him of his rights in Wales and in England, and my family’s lands were given into the stewardship of a knight named Jordan de Saye. I knew nothing about this knight, who was not at court. I was relieved to find he had already started on the journey into Wales, because my first fear had been that I might be awarded to him as wife, along with my father’s lands.
‘Ah!’ said Elizabeth, in a tone of warm satisfaction, and I followed her eyes to where the crowd was hushing and parting before the advance of a tall, well-muscled man with black hair, flecked with grey. Sybil gripped my hand. Robert de Bellême strode confidently into the court to answer to the king, exchanging a brief acknowledgement with Sybil as he passed. His glanced flicked over me. At the front of the crowd, he sank to his knee before Henry. Sybil’s expression brightened with confidence that her eldest brother would rescue the fortunes of the family. I had seen a resemblance to Arnulf in his face but thought his mouth cruel, like the stories about him. After King Henry and Duke Robert, Bellême was the richest nobleman in both the kingdoms of England and Normandy. He wore that knowledge in his stance. ‘Handsome, isn’t he?’ Elizabeth whispered in my ear.
The king twitched his fingers to Bellême, indicating that he should rise.
‘There are forty-three charges of malfeasance against you, Robert de Bellême,’ Bishop Roger told him, ominously not using his title of earl.
‘Forty-three!’ said Bellême. ‘Then may I have a servant fetch me a chair?’
A titter of amusement ran around the hall but was quickly killed when the king spoke for the first time. ‘No, you may not.’
Bellême raised his eyes to the king’s face, and they stared at each other. The temperature in the hall seemed to drop several degrees. All gossip and whispering ceased. Even the dust motes in the beams of light piercing the hall appeared to pause in their dances.
Bishop Roger began to read the charges in a droning voice. As the list progressed, Sybil’s fingers locked tighter around my hand and she looked angrily several times in the direction of Master Richard. At first Bellême took the litany of charges with a sceptical, surprised expression bespeaking innocence but when Bishop Roger produced a number of letters written in Bellême’s hand and bearing his seal, Sybil’s brother began to lose his swagger, and he also turned to stare hard at Master Richard, flexing his hands as if trying to decide which of them he might use to kill the clerk. Master Richard avoided the eyes of both the Montgomery siblings. At last, the list of charges was completed and a great hush ensued.
‘Well?’ said King Henry.
‘My lord, I am astonished at this calumny against me. I beg leave to consult with my own counsellors before answering these ridiculous and false charges.’
Henry stared at him for some moments and finally responded. ‘Very well. You have until tomorrow morning to do so and then I will hear your defence and give my ruling.’
Bellême bowed and backed away from the king, walking swiftly from the room, not glancing this time at his sister.
The following morning, I comforted Sybil when we discovered her brother had fled to Shrewsbury and would not appear to answer the charges. King Henry proclaimed Bellême stripped of the earldom of Shrewsbury, sent word to all Normandy that Bellême was declared a traitor, and gave orders to ready an army to march against the castles of Arundel, Tickhill, Bridgnorth and Shrewsbury itself. My curse against the Montgomerys had come true. There was only Neufmarché left for the dogs of Annwn to hunt down.
Bishop Roger of Salisbury announced the king’s orders that Richard Belmeis should go into Sussex to seize the vast Montgomery holdings there for the crown. Master Richard nodded his acknowledgement to the king, and left without exchanging so much as a glance with Lady Sybil, in whose household he had lived for so many years. Sybil turned her head and spat on the ground as he passed.
‘He deserves castration,’ I whispered in her ear, ‘but there would be little point in it.’
She clenched my hand gratefully.
‘Lady Nest ferch Rhys.’ The king spoke to me directly, instead of using the mouthpiece of Bishop Roger.
I stepped forward, my heart pounding. ‘Sire.’ Taken up with Sybil’s distress, I had forgotten that I too was summoned for a decision today.
‘I am aware there is the disposition of your marriage to be put in order.’
I kept my eyes on his face.
‘I can no longer allow you to continue in the household of Sybil de Montgomery,’ he said. Sybil opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. ‘Of course, you have done an excellent job with my ward so far, Lady Sybil,’ the king said swiftly, in a conciliatory tone. ‘However, Lady Nest is of royal blood and needs to be at court, where I can look about for a satisfactory match for her. She will enter service as one of the ladies of Queen Matilda for now.’
‘Yes, sire,’ we voiced together. Sybil looked deflated, shrunken, her loud, garrulous voice dimmed. I turned to her with tears in my eyes and we held each other’s hands. ‘You have been my dear sister,’ I whispered to her, ‘and will always remain so’. I had grown a new family in her and her daughters and now I had to lose my family all over again. We exchanged a long embrace and then, after our years together, she was gone. Suddenly I was alone, defenceless and unloved again among strangers.
18
The Character of the Badger
The queen’s court did not stay at Winchester for long. ‘Nest, would you oversee the packing of my bed and other items from my chamber?’ the queen asked, as we began preparations to return to Westminster.
‘Yes, my lady.’ I curtseyed and moved to her chamber, wondering what this duty might consist of. Everything in my new life was unfamiliar and uncertain, although I had been allowed to keep Amelina with me. In the queen’s chambers, two men stood awaiting my orders. ‘Everything is to be packed up carefully to be moved to London,’ I told them, hoping they had more idea how to go about it than I did. They bowed and began stripping the furs and sheets from the bed and folding them carefully into chests. They rolled the great mattress, roped it and carried it from the room to the waiting carts in the courtyard below. I moved around the room, packing small items and stowing them into the chests. The two men returned and began to dismantle the bed, removing the carved wooden supports at the four corners and breaking the strung frame down into sections. Everything was moved down to the growing chaos of packhorses below, readying for our departure to my new life at the royal court.
* * *
Over the summer, King Henry was away, campaigning against Bellême, and I spent time growing accustomed to my changed circumstances with Queen Matilda. Unlike her energetic husband, who constantly moved between palaces and hunting lodges across the country, Matilda liked to spend as much of her time as possible, static, in London. She rarely moved around with the king, only travelling when necessary for the Easter, Pentecost and Christmas courts. King Henry had granted rich incomes to the queen from the city, including the port taxes of Queenshithe and the citizens of London took her warmly to their hearts, calling out affectionately in the streets, whenever she ventured outside the palace.
The queen’s entourage consisted largely of priests and clerks and a few Anglo-Saxon ladies. Emma, Christina, Cille and I were her only regular female attendants. They spoke to each other and the queen in English, but occasionally Matilda would recollect that I could not understand and commanded that they switch to French. The queen was no more stylish in her dress now than she had been at her wedding and coronation, and the Norman ladies of the court did not, on the whole, consort with her. One morning I entered the queen’s chambers with Cille and was delighted to see an array of the best Anglo-Saxon embroidery, jewellery and metalwork laid out.
‘Look, Nest!’, Christina exclaimed. ‘These artisans have come with such exquisite examples of their work for the queen to see. She intends to buy some for herself and to purchase other things as gifts for her friends.’ I picked up the queen’s baby daughter, Maud, from her cradle and walked around, showing Maud the fine things draped across the chests and tables. The merchants had sumptuous silks and velvets in a dazzling array of colours. One man showed the queen an extraordinary bestiary, and seeing me admire the book, the queen purchased it for Maud. ‘You can read it to her, Nest, and show her the pictures.’ The queen was pleased I was able to read and write and could share the pleasure of books with her, since the other ladies’ schooling had been more rudimentary than my own.
I put the bestiary on a low table and sat before it with Maud on my knee. It was written in Latin and had beautiful ink drawings of many creatures. ‘Look, here is the Lion, the king of the beasts, who sweeps away his tracks with his tail and sleeps with its eyes open. He reminds me of Sir Haith!’ I laughed, looking up at the queen, who smiled back to us. I turned the page. ‘And here is the Hedgehog, which rolls on the ground at harvest time to gather grapes on its spines and feed them to its young.’
Elizabeth sauntered in, looking for me. She glanced around at the textiles and jewels with little interest and sat beside me. ‘This is the Amphisbaena, which has a head at each end of its body and can roll along the ground like a hoop,’ I continued, pointing it out to Maud, ‘and here is the crocus-coloured Crocodile, that weeps after eating a man.’
‘Also crocodile’s dung,’ interrupted Elizabeth, ‘is an ointment to make old women and whores beautiful again.’
I glanced with a small smile at her.
‘Well, that is hardly something the little princess needs to know, is it, Countess Meulan?’ the queen said, mildly irritated.
‘Here is a fox feigning death,’ I went on, hoping to avoid an argument, ‘and a unicorn resting its head in the lap of a virgin.’
‘And there,’ pointed out Elizabeth, turning the pages, speaking in an ironical babyish lisp, ‘is a hunter chasing a beaver who is biting off the hunter’s testicles, quite rightly, and a delightful hyena feeding on a corpse.’
Hurriedly, I moved past those pages.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ Matilda said to me, ignoring Elizabeth’s perverse humour. ‘It’s based on the Physiologus and Isidore of Seville’s Etymologiae. All God’s creations provide examples for us to consider the correct way to live.’
Elizabeth and I exchanged glances. Later, I would consider with her the examples of the hounds I had just seen mating in the yard, and the queen’s very fat lapdog that sat on a cushion, being fed candied sweets by Christina. Its skin was stretched taut over its rotund body, looking like an over-filled pig’s bladder fit to burst.
‘If you could add an animal from Wales to this bestiary, Nest, what would it be?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘A badger.’ I looked up and saw blank faces. ‘You know. It’s big and has a black and white stripy head and waddles.’ I imitated its movement, wobbling from side to side, my hands before me like paws, making the baby chuckle, her eyes bright upon me. The queen and the ladies still looked blank. ‘Well, it mostly comes out at night.’
‘What does it teach us, Nest?’ asked the queen.
I thought of its pungent black excrement that Goronwy had trod in once barefoot and the smell persisting for days, despite many scrubbings; of a badger he and I watched galloping in a field; of the big badger setts humping at the side of the path that we walked past in the daytime, knowing they slept deep down there wheezing.
‘Well, they sometimes eat rotting fruit and get drunk, and they eat hedgehogs, chickens and occasionally lambs. Their fur makes a very good shaving brush.’
They looked at me doubtfully. ‘Yes, but what is their best characteristic, Nest?’ the queen persisted.
I thought about it for a while. ‘They are often underestimated. When they are cornered, they are fierce fighters and will see off larger animals.’
Queen Matilda reminded me of FitzHamon in her lack of humour, but she was learned, intelligent and interested in literature. She was astute and practical and Henry did not demure at leaving serious matters of state in her capable hands. She frequently had her head bent about business with her chancellor Bernard, her chamberlain Aldwin or her chaplain Geoffrey. Besides these men, her brother David was with her most days and other men attending on her included Robert Malet, Gilbert the sheriff, William Warelwast and Michel de Hanslope. On one occasion, her sister Mary, who had recently married the count de Boulogne, came to visit. Matilda was closely interested in the affairs of her siblings, especially the Scottish king, Edgar. I was, however, disgusted to find Master Richard Belmeis in the queen’s favour. He had the temerity to speak with me, friendly-fashion, as if I had not witnessed him being a great liar and traitor to my dear Sybil.
‘Lady Nest, what a pleasure to see you here, displaying the fruits of my labours in your education, so wonderfully, in the queen’s household. You are, indeed, an ornament to the court,’ he gushed, reaching for my hand.
I took a step back from him, keeping my hands rigid at my sides.
‘How are your educational assistants?’ I asked him.
His smile grew a little hesitant, and he looked from my face to the queen’s in confusion.
‘The locusts,’ I said. ‘Those creatures that step over each other, squashing the heads and feet of their own relatives and patrons to feed themselves.’
