She did not rise but sat straight and stiff in her chair. ‘I commend you all,’ she cried in her clear voice, and to Stephen, ‘Cousin, I claim the throne of my father which you took from me.’
Stephen, deep in his humiliation, alone in this hall of enemies, summoned the dregs of his courage and stood erect. ‘I am in your hands, Maud. We are kin and –’
She gave a short laugh. ‘Kin or no, you forsook your promises to my father. You repaid him ill for his care of you, and you have broken the oath to me which you took in his presence. Why should I not chain you in the meanest prison I have?’
His body was rigid now. ‘I believed the kingdom better in the hands of a man.’
‘Of a ruler,’ she retorted with scorn, ‘and that the kingdom has not had.’
He flushed, his hands gripped together behind his back. ‘It is not easy, as you will find. I have been surrounded by traitors, left with untried boys, abandoned – ’ He controlled himself with difficulty. ‘If you would allow me to return to Normandy, to my county of Boulogne – ’
She looked at him pityingly. ‘Did you think I would give you your freedom?’ She beckoned to the Sheriff of Gloucester, ‘Take him but house him decently.’
When he had gone the barons crowded about the dais, all eager to speak with the Lady, to offer their loyalty, hail her as the future Queen. Many asked for lands, for castles abandoned by the vanquished, and she gave lavishly, crowning all by giving her brother Reginald the earldom of Cornwall now that Alain of Richmond was fled to Yorkshire. At last she became aware that she had not spoken with the one man who asked nothing of her. She looked around for him, dismissed the last suppliants and beckoned him to her.
He came and went on one knee by her chair. ‘Domina, all England will be yours now.’
She said, ‘When I heard of the battle I would not have cared if none of these had returned providing you had ridden back to me.’ She stopped abruptly as if she had surprised herself and glanced about her, but Earl Robert was busy issuing orders for the vast army, other lords were talking loudly together, all of them momentarily occupied.
He took her hand and put it to his lips. And Maud herself, looking over his head at the captive King disappearing out of the far door of the hall, and then back at this man bringing his share of the great triumph to her yet demanding nothing, became aware of a sudden leaping response to what she saw in his face. The hall swam in front of her eyes, and a swift succession of memories came before her – of her father forcing his will upon her, of her first husband, the distant stately Emperor, of Geoffrey and his demands, of one or other of them dominating her, taking her life, her body, using both for their own ends, while here before her was the one man who would never ask anything of her but wanted only to give, and that beyond anything she had ever envisaged. Mother of God, she thought, give me strength for this moment.
Involuntarily her fingers closed on Brien’s, gripping them hard. Never again would she be dominated, never again would men order her, force her to their own designs. She would be Queen of England and if she might not take the love that, for the first time in her life, she saw offered to her for herself alone, then she would replace it with power, with a will that would bend all men before it. It was a bitter resolution formed of a new, invisible captivity to a man who wished only for her freedom.
‘Domina,’ he got to his feet, ‘Domina, are you ill?’
‘Ill?’ she queried and gave him a sudden curious little smile. ‘No, I am not ill.’ She rose and instantly there was a deferential silence. The men on the dais turned towards her, those nearest bent the knee and she stood looking at them all, the smile still on her face, but there was no longer any softness in it.
CHAPTER 4
Henry of Blois, Bishop of Winchester, considered it no ill thing to turn his coat if and when it became necessary. His prime concern was with the honour of the Church, which he considered with genuine devotion to be Christ’s honour, and he determined with ruthless single-mindedness to keep his own place in it, mainly because he considered himself better fitted for it than anyone else. He saw no point in a humility that denied the gifts God had given him.
Consequently when he heard of his brother’s defeat and the shameless defection of half the lords in the kingdom he wrote a careful letter to his cousin Maud, offering her his allegiance and implying that with it went the approval of the Church and doubtless that of the Holy Father himself.
He felt a condescending pity for his brother but no more – Stephen had flouted him and in his person the Church on every possible occasion, had denied him the archbishopric of Canterbury which he should have had, had gone back on every agreement they had made and Henry had no time for such illogical behaviour. It was his influence that had set his brother on the throne and very ill he had been repaid for it. Well, it would not hurt Stephen to cool his heels in prison for a while.
His letter was couched in careful terms, making it clear what he expected in return for his loyalty, and her reply conceded all that he wished in equally careful terms without yielding an inch more than he demanded. They compromised and the result of that compromise was a solemn Mass to be celebrated in the cathedral church at Winchester before which he would receive her officially as the Lady of England.
The church was crowded to the doors when he led a procession of clergy from the sacristy to the altar. He wore his finest vestments, his jewelled cross on his breast, his mitre encrusted with jewels, his pastoral staff fashioned of gold. At the altar he turned, tall and dignified, to await the other procession, ensuring that every man should see it was he who stood there to receive Maud, not the other way about.
She came, led by her brother Robert and her uncle David. The King of Scotland was a big man like his father Malcolm, but without the latter’s ferocity. His red hair was speckled with grey but he carried himself well, his highly coloured weather-beaten face bearing a pleasant smile as he led his niece, her hand resting on his, up the length of the church. It suited him well to have her set on the throne rather than Stephen whom he considered hopelessly inept.
Four earls bore a canopy over Maud’s head – Ranulf of Chester at the forefront with her brother Reginald, Earl of Cornwall and William de Mohun, recently created Earl of Somerset, at the rear, with Earl Hugh Bigod who had come over to her side. Richly dressed, walking with grace, her elegant figure at its best in such a setting, Henry of Blois watched her and thought briefly of the day when his brother had walked thus to a crowning and old Archbishop Thurstin had set the golden diadem on his handsome head. It had been a joyous day and Stephen had looked every inch a King – but the momentary pang passed for disillusion had brought Henry to this point and he went forward without hesitation to greet the Lady of England, determined that this time England would have a sovereign who would be guided by him.
The Mass began and the choristers were singing the Kyrie as the rest of the procession filed into place. Behind the earls came Brien and Baldwin of Redvers, one bearing the ceremonial sword, the other the Empress’s shield showing the lions of Normandy. These they handed to two young clerks who laid them at the foot of the altar. Then together Brien and Baldwin moved to positions behind the Empress’s chair. And listening to the singing Brien wished he could see her face, assess her feelings in this great hour of triumph.
There was no resistance to her cause now. The whole country was for her except Kent where Queen Matilda with William of Ypres to aid her held out on her own lands; Waleran of Beaumont was with her and the Earls of Surrey and Northampton who had led Prince Eustace to safety but elsewhere men came openly to the Empress’s side and Robert D’Oyley at Oxford had sent joyous messages placing the royal castle at her disposal. Aubrey de Vere, lord of Oxford, arrived to declare for her and even Roger Earl of Warwick and cousin to the Beaumont twins put himself and his castle in her hands. Only at Sherbourne did William Martel, Stephen’s steward, still hold out behind the strong stone walls built by old Bishop Roger of Salisbury, and alone he coul
d do little.
Brien saw Robert standing stiffly devout, his generous nature rejoicing in his sister’s reception of what could have been his had he chosen a less honourable path; King David was smiling with satisfaction, the Bishops present all in favour of the Lady who might better uphold their dignity as churchmen. There was unqualified approval in Gilbert Foliot’s face, and even the Archbishop of Canterbury had sent a messenger to say he was on his way to join them. As the Mass proceeded Brien prayed only that Maud might rule wisely, that she might have a long and fruitful reign preparing the ground for her son. Of himself he did not think at this moment. Because he was a man almost without self-indulgence he was able to rejoice wholeheartedly for her who was now as always beyond his reach – the Lady of England awaiting only her anointing and crowning which must be done in the capital – and he stood behind her chair, his love for her overflowing in vicarious joy on this glittering day.
A council was summoned by Bishop Henry as papal legate and to it were called all the clergy and nobles who could or would attend – the more wary sending letters of apology pleading ill health or some plausible reason. Most important of all, the leading citizens of London were asked to journey to Winchester to meet the Lady. Archbishop Theobald, arriving too late for the Mass, refused to take any oath to her without first seeking the permission of the King by whom he had been appointed.
‘The Archbishop nurses his conscience like a sick girl,’ Hugh Bigod sneered and chose not to hear when Baldwin of Redvers remarked blandly that it was better than having no conscience at all.
‘Did you hear?’ Baldwin asked Brien, ‘When Theobald went to sit, from habit I suppose, in the high seat, while he was gathering up his robes in the pompous manner he has our Bishop Henry slipped in behind him and sat down as if he were God Himself. ’
‘And the Archbishop all but sat on his knee,’ Earl Reginald put in. ‘Holy Cross, I’m glad I did not miss the sight of his face when he saw Henry sitting there.’
Baldwin grinned broadly. ‘Aye, and he said “I had forgot it was your eminence and not my grace that was presiding at this council.”’
Brien could not keep a smile from his own face. ‘And what did Henry say? I could not hear.’
Baldwin let out a bellow of laughter. ‘He said he sat down to save the Archbishop the embarrassment of having to yield the place that belonged to the Holy Father’s representative.’
‘God’s Wounds,’ Brien raised his eyebrows. ‘Henry thinks he and the Abbot of Cluny rule all Christendom.’
‘The Pope and Bernard of Clairvaux rival them,’ Reginald remarked acutely.
‘Between the two Theobald is likely to find himself seated on a bench with the rest of us. Perhaps he runs to Stephen to try to keep his office whoever reigns.’
The council waited while the Archbishop and several of his clergy rode to Bristol. In the small chamber where he was confined the King heard them out and then said with pathetic humility, ‘My lords, it seems that God is punishing me for my sins else I, an anointed King, would not be here. I will not hold you to your oaths, for what kind of lord can I be to you locked within these walls?’
‘Sire,’ Theobald looked uncomfortable and stared round the room. The bed had decent covers and there was wine on the table and a fire burning in a brazier. He heaved a sigh of relief, for he had not been sure what to expect. ‘Sire, we are driven by circumstances beyond our control. It is with sorrow that we see you thus, but you have not dealt well with the Church and perhaps – ’
‘You do not need to tell me what I know already,’ Stephen broke in bitterly. ‘I acknowledge my fault.’
‘We honour you for your honesty, my son,’ the Archbishop said, ‘and for your courage on the field. But the Lady Maud stands vindicated and we must serve her or yield our offices.’
Stephen glanced from one to the other of the Bishops and then back to the anxious gentle face of Theobald of Bec. ‘Go to my cousin,’ he said at last. ‘I give you leave.’ He knelt for Theobald’s blessing and then turned his back on them as they filed silently from the room, tasting the bitter shame that he a King should be thus incarcerated while they were free to go.
But he had not yet reached the lowest ebb, for a few days later his guards came and took him to a different cell, below ground and with only a faint light coming in through a solitary shaft. There they set chains on his wrists and ankles. Dazed, he stared at them and asked, ‘Why are you doing this to me?’
The head gaoler, a heavy coarse man, said roughly, ‘On the orders of the Lady.’
‘But why?’
The other soldier who was fastening the ankle chains glanced up at him. ‘I think, my lord, it is because the men from London want your release. My brother is a burgess and he told me that the citizens ask for you to be returned to them. ’
The King smiled wanly. ‘I did not know they were so loyal to me. What answer did the Lady give them?’
The fellow shook his head. ‘I was not there, lord, so I cannot tell you exactly, but my brother said she would not listen to their terms. They said they could not give support to both sides and had beggared themselves in your cause.’
Stephen set his head back against the dank wall and laughed. ‘Oh, Holy Wounds of God, they are close, the Londoners. There is no other people like them. ’
‘It seems the Lady was very angry, sire, for she told them they had no right to consider themselves better than any other of her subjects and that did not please them. Then she demanded that William Martel, your grace’s seneschal, and some others should be excommunicated by Bishop Henry for their deeds – I did hear that.’
‘Poor William – he robbed one of Winchester’s abbeys to find money for me. No wonder my treacherous brother wants vengeance.’ He glanced down at his chains. ‘Perhaps this is his revenge too.’
The soldier rose. ‘I am sorry for it, my lord.’
The head gaoler gave him a shove. ‘Keep your tongue still, rogue, or I’ll have you beaten. Get back to your duty.’ He pushed the man from the cell and the door closed hard with a clang of wood and iron.
Alone, Stephen looked round the miserable place, trying to accustom his eyes to the dim light. There was nothing here but the pallet on which he sat and a leather bucket. Raising both hands to his face he shuddered at the accompanying sound of the chains and thought of his uncle Robert who had spent nearly thirty years imprisoned in one castle or another.
‘Sweet Mother of God, have mercy,’ he whispered and his fear rose as a rat emerged from a hole in the corner by the bucket and looked up at him with small black unflinching eyes. He rattled his chains and it scampered across to another hole beneath the bed. He crossed himself hastily – he had heard somewhere that the souls of the excommunicated were driven into the bodies of rodents – an old woman’s tale perhaps – but the thought that his friend Martel, if he died before the ban were lifted, might scamper thus across the floor of his prison drew from him sudden terrified laughter until he clapped both hands over his mouth. Jesu, that way lay madness! Yet he drew his feet up on to the bed, away from the vicinity of the rat, and sat hunched up, wondering if he had ever been a King.
Meanwhile the Empress, the Lady of England, moved through the shires towards London. A large retinue rode with her, and the people turned out to line her way. They remembered the old Lion of Justice who, harsh though he might have been, made laws for the poor as well as the rich, and they cheered his daughter, hoping she would remember them when the crown was set on her head.
But it was also a slow progress because the people of London were not yet won over to her cause. Deciding she needed a strong ally there she sent messengers to Geoffrey of Mandeville, confirming him as Earl of Essex, desiring that he should act as Sheriff of both London and Essex, and promising him further grants of land and honours and the continuing Constableship of the Tower. Geoffrey, considering it was time to switch to the winning side, accepted and in turn promised that he would persuade the independent men of London’s comm
une to open their doors to her.
By Easter she was at Oxford. May found her in Reading and from there Earl Robert sent Baldwin and Reginald to deal with a garrison at Windsor that still held for the King. In this momentary pause Brien asked leave to ride home to Wallingford and see what state his lands might be in.
The Lady gave it to him, but as he bowed his thanks she added, ‘Do not stay away too long, Brien FitzCount. I do not want to ride to London without you.’
‘As if any business could keep me from you,’ he said, smiling. ‘A few days, Domina, that is all. ’
‘See that it is not more,’ she told him, her manner peremptory, which it seldom was to him. He excused her in that she had the cares of a nation descending on her and rode home to Wallingford taking his own household with him.
The Lion's Legacy (Conqueror Trilogy Book 3) Page 14