The Devil's Diadem
He was dressed in good but serviceable clothes — not the magnificence I had been expecting.
‘Pengraic said you were not well from your journeying to London,’ the king said, as he stepped forward and, as Chestre had done, planted a kiss on my mouth. ‘He said that you were with child, and early in your breeding. I pray you are recovered now?’
It amazed me that Edmond actually appeared to be genuinely concerned, and, of course, I wondered at the reason behind that concern.
‘All I needed was a little rest, my lord king,’ I said. ‘I am quite recovered now.’
He still had not let go my hand, as he had also lingered over my hand that first day we’d met, and his eyes still had not let go of mine, as also on that first meeting.
‘You look well as a countess,’ he said, ‘but I sorrow at the reason for it. I have heard that you suffered deeply.’
I was aware of everyone else in the room staring at us, silent in their regard, waiting for every word that they might discuss it later.
‘I lived,’ I said, fighting to keep the tears from welling up at the warmth and apparent sincere care in his voice. Damn him. ‘Many others, much beloved, did not. I sorrow for my lord,’ I glanced at Raife, ‘who lost so many.’
There was a soft grunt of amusement from someone, and to my horror I realised it was Henry.
I saw Edmond’s eyes flicker to his son, then they were back on me. ‘We will talk more,’ he said, ‘when we dine this afternoon. But for now,’ he finally let go my hand, and addressed Raife, ‘your lord husband looks as though he needs some exercise and fresh air. Come, my lord,’ he gave Raife’s chest a hard slap, ‘we must lose those fine garments of yours, and ride to the hunt. My valet will find you something of more durable wear for the chase … I cannot have you looking finer than me.’
Edmond sent me a faint wink at that, as Raife gave a small bow.
‘The exercise will do me good, my lord,’ he said, and I thought him the liar, for we’d had nothing but exercise this past three weeks to reach London, and I think we were both heartily sick of it, ‘but if I may have a moment to leave Maeb in safe hands?’
‘There are unsafe hands at my court?’ Edmond said, giving a chuckle, then he waved us away. I dipped again, and Raife bowed, and then Raife led me across the chamber, passing Henry, who gave us a sardonic nod, toward a woman standing against a series of archways that looked as if they led into a chamber mirroring the hall below in size and scope.
‘Alianor,’ Raife said, ‘this is my wife, Maeb. I pray that you shall be careful of her amid this vast nest of vipers.’
Lady Alianor dipped in courtesy to him before switching her gaze to me.
I liked her instantly. She was some fifteen years older than me, of warm beauty and with a ready smile. She dipped — I was overcome with yet another deep sense of unreality seeing this aristocratic lady humble herself before me — and then reached out both her hands to take mine.
‘We shall be friends,’ she said, her smile so amiable I found it hard to believe it had any artifice behind it at all. And yet, as I squeezed her hands, I wondered how deeply I might trust that smile and the woman who wore it.
Chapter Five
‘Are you quite overcome yet?’ Lady Alianor said to me as we moved to one side, allowing a trio of noblemen to pass through the arch into the great hall beyond.
I gave a wan smile. ‘I dare hardly speak, lest I betray my unease.’
‘You will become used to it.’ We had our arms linked, and she patted my hand. ‘Do not fret about it. Every young girl is overcome when first she arrives here. But you … my dear, everyone was agog at the news of the earl’s marriage! The loss of Adelie and her children, especially Stephen, may the saints hold him close, was the most dreadful news, but to have Henry return to court with the news that Pengraic had wed again, and so quick —’
‘And to someone of no name and no dowry.’
She chuckled. ‘And that, too. Well, the court has been hot with rumour and conjecture ever since. What Henry did not tell us was that you were so beautiful. And the king, too, has been keeping such knowledge close … for I believe you have met prior?’
I nodded.
‘Now that I see you, and now that all of court can see you, there will be no more reason to wonder. Sweet Jesu, Maeb, you shall set all the tongues here a-wag!’
Her tone became more serious. ‘And you must learn to use that, as you must use the fact that most will think you a country naïf.’
‘I am a —’
‘As of this moment, no, you are not, Maeb. You are the Countess of Pengraic. Apart from Queen Adelaide, and apart from any of the princes’ ‘ wives, you are now one of the highest-ranked women in this land. Your husband stands among the most wealthy and powerful. You will find both flatterers and assassins fawning at your feet. Use them both, but do not allow yourself to be used by them.’
‘There is so much to learn.’
‘Aye, and that is why the earl asked me to care for you. Do not worry, Maeb. I shall not leave your side today, and shall guide you through whatever treacheries occur.’
Any fears I’d had about court mostly evaporated during the morning. Alianor proved a pleasant and reassuring companion. From the king’s privy chamber she took me out to the gallery, where we lingered to enjoy the view. In the far distance, to the east, where spread light forest, we could hear the shouts and horns of the hunting party, although we could not see them.
‘If the king returns with a good boar, he shall be happy,’ she said. ‘If my husband returns with his life intact, then I shall be happy,’ I countered.
‘Why do you fear so, Maeb?’
I told her what I’d learned from both Saint-Valery, Summersete and Henry — that Edmond feared my husband’s power.
‘All kings fear their high nobles’ power,’ Alianor said. ‘They fear their wealth, and the armies they can raise from their lands, and yet most high nobles still walk about with their heads attached to their shoulders. Henry and Summersete?’ She gave an elegant shrug. ‘They are most likely envious of your husband’s easy grasp of power. It makes them dangerous, yes, but they are unlikely to move against him.’
‘And Edmond?’
She thought, looking out over the expanse of green that ran east. ‘Edmond may well worry about Pengraic, but Pengraic has never done anything to threaten the king. Pengraic appears a man happy with what power and wealth he has, and does not covet more.’
She ended that last with a questioning lilt to her voice, and I merely raised my eyebrows slightly at her.
She gave me a little nod, as if approving, and carried on. ‘I think that, rather than fear him, Edmond is oft frustrated by Pengraic. Your husband rarely jumps to Edmond’s will like other noblemen and that irritates Edmond.’
‘Yet Raife agreed happily to the hunt today, when I think he would have rather desisted.’
‘That is such a small thing, Maeb. It is in the larger matters that Pengraic oft acts on his own behalf. Not against the king, just on his own behalf.’
I glanced back inside the privy chamber, where I could see Henry continuing his talk with the man in the white tunic.
‘Henry bothers me,’ I said, low.
‘Henry bothers many people. He will be your most dangerous opponent at court, for he hates your husband and covets his power — and his independence from Edmond. Come, let us descend to the lesser hall, and we shall parade along its length, and gather you admirers.’
We carefully traversed the narrow spiral stairs to the lower level — Alianor showing me, unasked, where the privies were on the way (she had borne seven children, she told me, and understood the needs of the woman carrying a child) — and into the lesser hall. Here we spent the next few hours, taking seats before one of the fires, sipping small beer and picking at the tray of fruits and cheeses presented for our pleasure, as one by one or two by two, the noblemen and women of the court came over to introduce themselves. I felt as if I were holdin
g court and I would have been ill at ease, save that Alianor’s presence gave me courage and her continuous whispered commentary gave me the knowledge to deal graciously and easily with the never-ending procession.
At one point, left to our own devices for a short while, Alianor leaned close and touched my loosely braided hair. ‘Why do you wear it so, Maeb?’
‘I wore it thus one day, and Raife commented that he liked it so much that I have continued ever since. Why? Is it unbecoming for court?’
She gave a soft laugh and squeezed my arm. ‘No! I had thought it the most artful piece of politic cunning when first I saw you! Here you are, your hair dressed so simply, and yet so glorious in its richness and gleam, and, while all the men of court admire it — it is true! I have seen all their eyes slip to it sooner rather than later — all the women regard it with envious eyes. They have thickened and lengthened their braids with horsehair and ribbons and pins and beads and baubles and bells so that they drag on the floor, and yet here you sit, glorious in your natural beauty, your hair outshining all of their wily tricked braiding. Wait and see, Maeb, for the next time you return to court I swear you will see a number of these women here discard their horsehair and baubles, and try to emulate your simplicity. And when you see that, Maeb, know your power.’
We chatted a little while, watching people moving about the hall.
I asked Alianor where was the queen, for I had thought she would be at court with her husband.
‘Adelaide suffered a bad miscarriage not a month past. She is old for childbearing and the loss was ruinous to her health. She, and Edmond’s two younger sons, remain at their manor at Elesberie.’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ I said, meaning it. I would vastly have preferred the queen to be here.
Then I thought I would surprise Alianor with a very different question.
‘Which of these women present,’ I said, ‘have been my husband’s mistresses?’
Alianor looked shocked and I think it was genuine. ‘My sweet lord, Maeb, you are not such the country naïf after all! Well, as to your question, that woman standing there in the red kirtle, and the lady in the far corner, with the blue ribbons through her braids.’
I felt the stab of a terrible jealousy, almost physically hurtful, and I wished I had not asked the question. Both women had talked to me in the past hours — and they had shared Raife’s bed? I felt sick.
‘But they are long-past mistresses, Maeb. I think you have no need to worry. I have seen how Pengraic looked at sweet Adelie, and I have seen the way he looks at you and, no, you have no need to fret.’ She smiled a little. ‘I admire you for the courage of asking the question, and am heartened that you knew to ask the question.’
I wanted to ask her more, but just then two men wandered over. It was Saint-Valery and the tall, dark, brooding man in the plain white tunic.
‘Ah,’ said Alianor, ‘our court poet, as well as my lord d’Ecouis.’
Saint-Valery bowed, then took my hand and kissed it. ‘Jewels suit you, my lady.’
I blushed, wondering if criticism underlay the remark. ‘The world has turned upside down since last we met, my lord.’
‘And my heart inside out. We shall need to talk of it later. My lady, I believe you have not met Sir Fulke d’Ecouis. Forgive his plain apparel — he is of the Templars and has foresworn frippery.’
The Templars. My heart gave an uncomfortable flip. I had half lifted my hand, expecting d’Ecouis to follow Saint-Valery’s example and kiss it, but d’Ecouis stood his ground, not even giving me a nod, let alone a bow.
‘Countess,’ he said, grinding the word out as if under torture. ‘There was another of your brothers upstairs,’ I said, if only for words to utter.
‘Ah, you spotted him,’ said Alianor brightly. ‘That is my husband’s kinsman, Gilbert.’ She waved a hand in the air. ‘Lord of some vast estate somewhere or the other.’
Alianor’s kinsman by marriage was a Templar? My heart sank. I did not trust the Templars, for I blamed them for keeping my father too long in the Holy Land, and our family’s difficulties because of it.
Suddenly d’Ecouis’ patent disapproval of me and his boredom at having to endure being presented to me, spurred my anger. ‘My father rode with your Order for some years,’ I said to him. ‘It was too much for him, and he died well before his years.’
Finally, I had caught d’Ecouis’ attention. ‘To die within the Order and at its work is to be assigned a place at God’s right hand,’ he intoned sententiously. ‘May I enquire as to your father’s name?’
‘Godfrey Langtofte,’ I said, meaning to say that he had not died in the Order’s service, but was stopped precipitously by the look on d’Ecouis’ face. He had gone completely white, almost as white as his spotless tunic.
‘You are Langtofte’s daughter?’ he said. ‘I —’
‘My lady,’ Saint-Valery said, ‘the king’s household chamberlain is seeking your attention.’
I looked to where he indicated, and saw a man standing by the entrance to the chamber beyond the hall gesturing at me.
‘It is time for us to go, my lords,’ said Alianor smoothly, standing up and sliding her arm through mine as I, too, rose. ‘The king has returned.’
‘I hope we have time to speak at more length later, my lady,’ Saint-Valery said, and I gave him a smile, shot d’Ecouis a more ambiguous glance, then walked toward the chamberlain with Alianor.
‘Your father was a Templar?’ Alianor murmured.
‘Only for a few years. After my mother died he went as a pilgrim to Jerusalem and stayed, joining the Order as a sergeant. Then ill-health plagued him, and he came home and died soon after.’
‘Does your husband know this?’
Did Raife know? Raife had never asked about my father, save on that very first day we’d met. I couldn’t imagine that he cared overmuch and, besides, my father had never held any office of importance within the Order — he had done little but count the Templars’ coin from one table to another.
‘I doubt he cares,’ I said. ‘Mention it to him,’ Alianor said, and then we were at the chamberlain, who waved us through into the king’s privy chamber.
The hunting party had returned, and were filled with jovial humour and much flattery as each praised another for their bravery and skill in the heat and blood of battle. Alianor and I shared a glance, laughed, and rolled our eyes.
‘The ladies dispute our skills!’ said Edmond. He was standing by a small table on which stood a bowl of water. Both he and Raife, standing with him, had stripped back to their linen braes and hose and were splashing water over their chests and faces as they washed away the sweat of the chase.
A servant handed each of them a towel and they dried off with rough, impatient strokes.
‘You mistake us, my lord king,’ said Alianor. ‘We were so overcome with the joy of seeing you safe after your dangerous adventure our eyes rolled as we near fainted in relief.’
Raife had donned his linen shirt, and, taking his richly embroidered tunic from the servant, pulled it on as he walked over. ‘Did you spend your morning well, wife?’ he said.
‘Very well, my lord. My Lady Alianor has been a good friend.’
The skin about Raife’s eyes relaxed a little.
The king had similarly donned his tunic — he was garbed as richly as Raife now — and walked over. ‘We dine at nones,’ he said. ‘My lady countess, will you do me the honour of accompanying me at table?’
Such a suggestion, even early this morning, would have had me in a tremble of nerves, but after the experience of the past hours, and Alianor’s gentle instruction, it did not frighten me overmuch. I dipped in courtesy.
‘I thank you, sir. You can tell me how my husband managed at hunt.’
The king smiled. ‘He may tell you himself now, and then I shall tell you later, and you can decide for yourself how well the two accounts marry. Pengraic, we wait an hour or two until we dine. Why don’t you show your wife the chapel?’
r /> As much as I liked Alianor, and had grown somewhat easier with the number of people at court, it was a relief to spend some time alone with Raife. We walked arm in arm out to the northern gallery, then toward the north-east tower where we turned down the eastern gallery which led to the chapel.
‘You encountered no problems today?’ Raife said as we came toward the entrance to the chapel.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Alianor has proven a good friend. Thank you for her introduction. And I have kept my tongue well, my lord.’
He gave my arm a soft squeeze. ‘Thank you, Maeb.’
We walked through into the chapel, and we stopped as I took in a deep breath.
It was stunning. A large vaulted chamber of cream stone that glowed in the sun streaming through its upper windows. A succession of thick columns created two aisles, and supported a large gallery above. The walls and columns were painted in bright colours, as were the two rood screens. Candles flickered at the altar where gilt and gold glowed, and somewhere incense burned.
‘The chapel of Saint John the Evangelist,’ Raife said. ‘Often the one peaceful place to be found within the tower.’
We walked slowly through the aisles.
‘What did you discover this morning,’ he said to me.
‘Two of your mistresses.’
He stopped, looking at me. ‘Long past, now.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘I also found a Templar, of uncertain temper.’
Raife chuckled as we resumed our slow pacing.
‘I did not know they were in England,’ I said.
‘They arrived a few years ago. They have a church on Holbournestrate but are petitioning Edmond for a parcel of land just outside Lud Gate. Their wealth and influence grows. I do not like them. Edmond does not like them either — their loyalty is to the pope, not to him. But I fear we shall have to endure their presence.’
‘My father was a member.’
‘Your father?’
We had stopped again, and now Raife looked at me curiously.