As they approached the court, Shannon tried once more to work out where she was. Berkhamsted, maybe? She knew there’d been a castle there. Wherever it was, they’d passed through a small but busy town first and Shannon had leaned even closer to Adam as the horses picked their way through the throng of people. She’d wrinkled her nose as various smells drifted up and winced as children with open sores ran alongside the horses, relieved when they left the town behind them.
She found it was no quieter here; the place swarmed with people. Ladies on high-stepping palfreys, maids going hither and thither, farriers and armourers, smiths hammering, knights practising with swords, and some very dubious-looking women in garish clothing, worn far tighter than seemed decent. Tripods with cooking pots were set over fires, cook-stall owners called their wares, women scrubbed at laundry in great tubs. Dogs and children swarmed everywhere. As Shannon stared, taking everything in, a man emerged from a tent adjusting his clothing, and a woman dressed in a gaudy gown blew him a kiss before counting coins in her hand as she walked away, her head bare, hair rippling down her back, tousled and greasy.
Tents – pavilions, Adam had called them – were everywhere, smallish, dull-coloured ones at first, but as they got nearer the castle, they became larger and more brightly coloured, in multi-hued stripes, pennants fluttering outside. At last, they drew to a halt by a pavilion with bright brown and yellow stripes. Giles dismounted and held out his arms to Isabella. Adam did the same for Shannon, hands lingering about her waist, his lips brushing her forehead lightly before he let go. Hildegarde accepted Miles’ help, and the horses were led away.
As they dismounted, a youngster watched them – a slight girl with light brown hair and grey eyes, nearly as tall as Shannon but several years her junior. Her face had lit up when she saw them arrive, and now she rushed over to them, laughing, and dropped Isabella and Giles a curtsy. “Sir Giles, and oh, Lady Isabella, how lovely! I’ve not seen you here for such an age.”
Shannon watched with interest as the girl drew Isabella aside and plied her with questions which Shannon could not quite hear. She stood observing, charmed by her obvious delight, until the girl was called away by an older woman. Not as finely dressed as the girl, so perhaps maid to her? Unlikely to be her mother, for the girl was clearly of good birth.
As the men went off about their business, the women were ready to enter the tent when a priest spied Hildegarde and came hurrying up. The Abbess seemed to be remonstrating with him. He waved his hands about until she nodded, then he bowed, strutting away again, full of importance.
Hildegarde turned and spoke to Isabella who made little sounds of dismay, her hands clasped against her breast. The colour drained out of her face. Shannon, perturbed, hurried to her side.
Hildegarde took Isabella’s hand and led her into the tent, which had been erected by the men Sir Giles had sent ahead of them. The Abbess drew her gently to a stool and sat her down, still holding her hand.
“I’m so sorry, Lady Isabella. I’m afraid there is no choice, but don’t be fearful, for I will not leave you at any other time. I’ll remain with you, as will Rohese. If Sir Giles can escort you to and from the pavilion and stay by your side until he has brought you to us, I promise to safeguard you. Don’t fret, John will not intimidate me; I promise you, I am more than a measure for him.”
Shannon looked from one to the other. “What’s happened?”
Isabella turned, her face blank. It was Hildegarde who enlightened her. “As soon as the chaplain saw my badge of office, he was determined I should have a small chamber allocated to me in the castle.”
“Well, that’s all right. I can stay with Isabella. And you’ll have Giles and his men.” She gave Isabella an encouraging nod. “They’ll keep you safe.”
Isabella raised her eyes hopefully, but Hildegarde shook her head. “Unfortunately, when I refused the chaplain because I was travelling with my niece, he said he would ensure we had a chamber large enough for both of us.”
Shannon was gutted. No Isabella meant no Adam, but she put that thought to one side in the face of Isabella’s distress, putting her arm round the shaking shoulders. Why was she so afraid?
“Isabella, I’m sure you’ll be all right. My aunt and I will only leave you when Sir Giles is by your side. And what can John do to you?”
Isabella managed a wobbly smile. “I’m being foolish, and mayhap I am nervous over nothing, for I’m sure John has other fish to fry, but oh, Rohese! He makes my skin crawl, and he knows it. If he sees me, he’ll not be able to resist baiting me.”
“Well, I think you’re worrying over nothing. I’m sure he has plenty of other people to upset. How long is it since he saw you? He might not even remember you; he must meet loads of people. You stay with us, and we’ll take care of you, won’t we Aunt?”
“Indeed, and I think Rohese is right. Look around outside. The hall will be packed with many people clamouring for his attention. Come, let me get someone to brew you a tisane. It will calm you.” She disengaged her hands gently, and left Isabella to Shannon, going first to her bags, then over to the maid, Mahelt, who nodded and went off, coming back a short while later with a cup of something.
“One of Sister Ursel’s calming remedies stirred into hot wine,” Hildegarde murmured to Shannon. “Not enough to make her drowsy, yet enough, I hope, to take the edge off her fears. It may not be the tea or coffee you are used to, however, I find a hot drink of any description always soothes, and Ursel’s remedies are most effective.”
It did seem to work. Shannon remembered how her mum had said she was given a drink which helped calm her, and she watched as the colour returned to Isabella’s face. She was still subdued, but that might have been the dose. At least she’d stopped shaking and seemed better able to cope.
“Will she be okay?” Shannon muttered to Hildegarde, who nodded.
“Yes, I think it was just the shock. The poor girl thought she had arranged matters, and then, the chaplain undid all her plans. When she has had a chance to readjust, I think she’ll be able to cope. And we need only use the chamber for sleeping. At all other times, when we are not in the great hall, we can remain here. I doubt Sir Giles will want to stay more than a couple of days anyway. He is not overly happy at court himself.”
Shannon nodded, then, since no one else was near, said under her breath, “Aunt, which castle is this anyway? I’ve been trying to work it out. Is it Berkhamsted?”
Hildegarde smiled. “Well done, Rohese. It is indeed. I believe, in your time, there is only a vague idea of what this looked like, and that may be wrong, so you will find it all the more interesting.”
Wow! She certainly would. She had visited and seen the plans of what they thought it had looked like in the twelfth century. Now she was here, she knew they weren’t quite right. She’d have to make a mental note of it, and when she got back – if she went back, she corrected herself – she’d try and sketch it out, make a return visit to the ruins and compare it what she had seen on their information board.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They remained in Giles’ pavilion until it was time to eat. The company and the dose Hildegarde had given Isabella seemed to revive her, for she slowly lost the pinched expression she had been wearing. When she started chivvying the squires to set the stools, coffers, trestles and pallets here not there and directing Mahelt hither and yon, Hildegarde and Shannon exchanged relieved glances.
By the time Giles returned, she had almost recovered herself and told him of the change of plans with relative equanimity. “However, it’s of no matter, my lord husband, for Abbess Hildegarde and Rohese have promised to bear me company at all times except when they sleep, and then, I shall have you near me. And indeed, I am likely being foolish, for doubtless, John has long since forgotten me.”
Her tone was light, but there were still small lines of strain about her eyes; Giles responded in kind, privately vowing to keep as close to her as he was able. For John to overset all he had worked for now w
ould be insupportable. His jaw tightened. If John were not brother to the King, Giles doubted he would still live. He had made enemies of too many who would otherwise have served him with their hearts, not just their hands. For certѐs, he had not the gift of winning men, and for that he was to be pitied. Yet since Isabella was doing her best to maintain a cheerful disposition, Giles determined to do likewise.
They stayed for a while, waiting for Giles’ men to join them. Shannon was changing the heavy veil and wimple she’d worn during the journey for her silk veil, wishing she had a better mirror than the polished metal disc she had borrowed from Isabella. She’d propped it on a chest and was doing her best to view herself in it when Isabella gave a sudden cry as she caught at Shannon’s right hand. “Why, how strange! That ring you wear. Look! It’s twin to my own. My lord gave it to me on our betrothal, but my fingers are too slender. In truth, even to keep it on my thumb, I’ve wound thread around it on the palm side. See?” She held her own hand out next to Shannon’s. It was smaller than Shannon’s, with narrower fingers. Shannon’s hands were square and sturdy, like Marion’s.
Shannon was dismayed. It had been a mistake to wear it. She hadn’t stopped to think, just pushed it onto her index finger when her mum gave it to her and forgotten to take it off. She gave a tight smile.
“I had believed it to be unique,” Isabella said contemplatively. “Giles’ father commissioned it made for him when he was knighted. Still, it is not beyond the realms of possibility, I suppose, that someone else should have made a similar one. How came you by yours?”
Shannon opened her mouth, but before she could speak, to her relief, Giles, who had not been attending, turned to them.
“Come then, Wife. Ladies?” He nodded to the other two, bowed, and offered a courtly arm to Isabella and the Abbess. Adam did likewise with Shannon, and they strolled through the pavilions towards the castle and up the steep stone steps that lead through to the antechamber. It was an outwardly merry group who entered the great hall. If Giles could feel a tensing in the muscles of the arm laid along his and hear a tremor in the light laugh Isabella gave as she responded to a sally he made, it was doubtful anyone else would have noticed.
Shannon was to be disappointed though. She expected, since Adam had taken her arm to lead her to the hall, that he would be her partner. Instead, he disengaged himself from her and strolled over to a group of his contemporaries. So many people milled around, she lost sight of him and had no choice but to suffer Guy as her companion.
The food was delicious; roasted meats, spiced stews, even a peacock complete with feathered skin put back after cooking, honeyed, spiced fruits, nuts and a subtlety shaped like a unicorn. Although Guy attended diligently to her needs, he had little to say. Indeed, as soon as the trestles were cleared, he excused himself, leaving her and joining a group of men at the edge of the hall. Isabella was claimed by a lady who drew her into a corner and started an earnest conversation, and Hildegarde was much in demand also.
Shannon was left on her own, watching the crowd and feeling like an outsider when she became aware of someone approaching her.
“Hello.”
She raised her head to see the same youngster who had pounced on Isabella earlier standing before her with a tentative smile on her face. She was wearing a light veil now, her braids falling in two thick ropes down to her waist with a silver fillet embellishing each.
Shannon grinned back; the child had such an open, guileless look, she couldn’t resist her.
Encouraged, the girl moved closer, saying frankly, “I haven’t seen you here before. Did you come with Sir Giles and Lady Isabella?”
“I did, and with my aunt, the Abbess of Sparnstow. My name’s Rohese. What’s yours?”
“I’m Alys. That’s my mother, over there with Lady Isabella. I was eating with my betrothed, but now the tables are cleared, he’s gone off and left me. He always does that. It’s because I’m still young, I suppose.”
It didn’t seem to bother her overly, for all she wrinkled her pert little nose. “I saw you seated with Sir Guy. Is he your husband?” She stopped and clapped a hand to her mouth, the colour rising in a tide over her neck and up her cheeks as though she realised she was being impertinent. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. My father says I talk too much, though truly, how am I to learn if I do not ask?”
“How indeed?” Shannon was finding her quite irresistible, and now she had someone to talk to, even if it was only this child, she felt much less of a wallflower. “You must always ask, for, as you said, how else will you learn?” She was enchanting. She seemed very young, even though Shannon would guess she was about fourteen. Just an inch or so shorter than she, but very skinny. “Yes, I supped with Sir Guy, and no, he is not my husband. I don’t have one.”
“Really?” Alys’ eyes were round with surprise.
I must seem too old to be single. “Well, I was betrothed.” At least, I thought Jackson was serious, she excused herself silently. “However,” she let her lower lip droop, “he betrayed me.”
Alys opened her eyes even wider. “Oh, Rohese, how awful for you. How did you bear such shame? Was your father very angry? Mine would have been furious. Oh, I think if I had been played false like that, my heart would have broken.”
She plunked herself down next to Shannon on the bench, big tears of sympathy welling up. “How tragic, Lady Rohese. Are you not heartbroken?”
“Well, I was. Though, Alys, you know, sometimes these things happen for the best. Imagine how unhappy I would have been had we wed and I then discovered his perfidy.” She found the style of speech coming quite easily now; she was even beginning to think in medieval terms.
Alys chewed on her thumbnail before pulling it away and examining it with a disgusted air. “I must learn not to bite my nails.”
Shannon hid a smirk; things weren’t always so different here. Alys looked at her, a dubious expression on her face. “I suppose it was better for you so, though many men do stray once they are wed. My grandmother says it’s to be expected. I am lucky, my betrothed loves me; he would never betray me. My mother and father chose him well.” She grinned expansively. “He’s very handsome. My parents say they will not allow us to wed until I reach my fifteenth year, but I would marry him tomorrow if they would let us. He agrees with them though. He says it’s better for a woman to be a little older if she’s to be a good wife.” She heaved a gusty sigh. “And I suppose he is right.” Then brightened, saying, “And once I am his wife, he will spend more time with me.”
Then, the mobile little face fell again. “Although, I do not like his parents. But neither does he so, mayhap, we will not spend too much time with them. He has his own manor, even though he is not his father’s heir. We might spend our time there for, once we’re wed, he will not need to be a hearth knight.”
Shannon wasn’t so sure. Didn’t brides as young as this learn the ropes with their in-laws? Still, she supposed Alys knew more than she did, and maybe it was the heir whose wife learned from his parents, although the kid was obviously an optimist, looking at life through rosy spectacles. She hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. Shannon couldn’t begin to imagine her running a household. “Aren’t you a little young for that responsibility?”
Alys put her chin in the air, and, suddenly, the idea of her giving orders didn’t seem quite so strange. “My mother has taught me well; she says she has no expectations of me disappointing her. Besides, we’ll have a steward and others to serve us, so it won’t be difficult. And in another year, I’ll have grown in stature.”
She leaned forward, left elbow on her knees, elfin chin resting on her hand, then stood and pointed. “See, Rohese, it’s the Queen’s favourite jongleur. I heard he has written a new lay for her.”
The Queen? Eleanor or Berengueria? Shannon looked, but there were too many bodies between her and the dais, and she couldn’t get a clear view. She craned her neck and found she could just see a group of musicians tuning up their instruments – none of
which she recognised. A lean man with curly hair and bright clothing was down on one knee before the dais, but she still couldn’t see who he was bowing to. Getting up, he strolled over to the other players, picked up something a bit like a small harp, and the hall grew quiet. Running his thumb across it, he hummed a few notes; then, his song rang out. He had a voice like brown velvet, and Shannon shivered with delight as his silken tones caressed each word, strumming the strings of his instrument until they almost wept with intensity.
“You blazed like a comet
through England and France,
leading both of your kings
in a wild, moonstruck dance.
No puppet, no damsel
no douce little queen,
the beautiful Eleanor,
bold Melusine.
Wife of two kings
and of kings, a mother,
All men have desired
Eleanor for their lover.
All other beauties
are cast in the shade;
when Eleanor smiles,
others wither and fade.
In the light of her laughter
our strong men grow weak,
beguiled and bedazed,
be they never so meek.
Other realms ache with envy,
their eyes lose their sheen,
for there’s no one to match
England’s dazzling queen.”
There were a few other verses; she couldn’t catch all the words. Rather extravagant – Eleanor must be knocking on a bit now. She supposed it never hurt to flatter a queen though. At any rate, the crowd roared its approval, though one man, who looked to be in his early thirties, stood back, leaning against a pillar, one eyebrow raised, giving him a sardonic expression. As Shannon watched him, he caught her eye and bowed, blowing her a kiss. Embarrassed, she turned away but not before she saw the curious expression on his face.
A Promise to Keep (Out of Time Book 2) Page 12