Judith, Twice Queen of Wessex

by Lesley Jepson

  ‘What do you think you are doing in these rooms? They are set aside for the King’s wife, and I presume these are her clothes you have been instructed to unpack.’ She spoke in precisely formal Latin as she gazed about the room, and Judith saw her eyes flash with avarice when she caught sight of the velvets and brocade.

  ‘Excusez-nous, Ma Dame. Nous ne voulions pas…..’ began Elin, only to be silenced by a disdainful snort and an upraised hand.

  ‘So, you are the French maids sent with the manipulative little slut that has married herself to our King?’ continued the woman in Latin and a shocked gasp came from underneath the silken cloth covering Ghislaine’s head. The woman swept it imperiously away and glared at the young girl contemptuously.

  ‘I might have known your brother would have inserted you into the service of the King’s wife, girl. But you should know better than to cavort like this with these savages.’ She flicked her chin at the other three girls and snorted derisively. ‘They obviously bring their feral attitudes along with their foul language and boorish manners to our court.’

  The woman strode around the room, handling the fabrics and rubbing them between her finger and thumb, nodding to herself as she muttered. Stooping, she plucked a length of transparent silk from the floor and draped it over her arm, then turned to the girls, still silent under her scrutiny. Judith shook her head imperceptibly at her companions, and turned her gaze calmly towards the woman as she strode towards the door.

  ‘Tidy this up, Ghislaine, and make those French slatterns help you. I’m sure the King’s wife can’t be far behind her clothes, and I am sure she’ll want everything properly presented when she finally does arrive.’

  ‘The Queen, Lady,’ pronounced Judith in perfect Latin as she stepped forward, shoulders set and spine straight. ‘Not just the King’s wife, but the Queen.’

  The woman made a sputtering noise with her lips. ‘Here in Wessex, the wife of the King is simply that, girl. And how dare you address me, without an invitation to do so? Even though you speak a little crude Latin, you must show me proper respect. I am Lady Emer Cuikishe, wife to Lord Richeld Cuikishe. And not only do I have the ear of the King, but also the power to have you turned out of the castle onto the street, regardless of what your French mistress might say. Give me your name, girl.’

  Judith regarded her calmly, despite the roiling uncertainty in the pit of her stomach. She was the great-granddaughter of Charlemagne, and she was a Frankish princess of impeccable breeding. How dare this woman speak to her like she was a serving maid? Judith took a breath.

  ‘My name is Judith, and I am Queen of Wessex, wife to the King and Princess of Frankia. And you, Lady Emer, will show me the respect due to my rank, and that of my husband.’ Judith met Lady Emer’s gaze with an unblinking stare, her face impassive. She had witnessed her mother deal with ladies of her father’s court who thought they were a cut above the Royal family, and she wasn’t about to drop her eyes, no matter how long it took. She was a swan, after all.

  Lady Emer’s eyes narrowed and then she inclined her head and bobbed her knee slightly, turning her lips up in the merest semblance of a smile.

  ‘It is enchanting to meet you, Highness. I should have been informed you were here, so we might have been introduced properly. If you will excuse me, I shall find out why this was overlooked.’

  Without waiting for a dismissal, Lady Emer turned on her heel at the door and swept out into the corridor beyond. Judith gaped at Ghislaine, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘Lady Emer, Highness. As she said. She is married to one of the King’s most able soldiers, who commands a large army of his own. And since the death of the King’s first wife Osburtha, she has indeed had his ear.’

  Judith saw the flush creep up Ghislaine’s neck and wondered if Lady Emer had also enjoyed the King’s bed. Innocent as she was, she could think of no other reason why the woman should evince such jealousy of her position as Queen, other than it being a position she herself coveted.

  ‘Does she hold any authority in the household, Ghislaine? Had I been a servant, could she have had me thrown out?’ Judith stepped forward and began picking up the fabrics and garments strewn around the room, and Alys and Elin joined her while Ghislaine unpinned the heavy brooch and began folding up the velvet.

  ‘She was Lady Osburtha’s closest companion, and when she died, Lady Emer continued to organise and run the King’s household. As chatelaine, she engages servants and dismisses them, she scrutinises the household accounts and she plans the meals and the entertainments. Her husband is frequently away patrolling the King’s borders, so she has time on her hands.’

  Ghislaine replaced the velvet and the silk into the chest and closed the lid, as Elin laid linen garments on the shelves in the dressing room and Alys hung Judith’s heavy cloak on a hook beside the door.

  ‘So I will have to deal with her daily?’ asked Judith with a frown of displeasure, and Elin slid her arm about her shoulders.

  ‘You are Queen, Highness. She is the wife of a soldier. No matter how important she thinks she is, you are royalty. If you want to dismiss her from the palace, you could.’

  Elin’s voice was firm, and Judith was grateful for the older girl’s strengthening embrace. Elin was right. Judith was Queen, and as such could organise the household to her own wishes. If she wished Lady Emer to deal with the day to day details, then she could allow that to happen. Judith beamed at the others in her room.

  ‘Come, ladies. I shan’t be dismissing anyone quite yet, so let us change our gowns and go down to supper. We shall see if Lady Emer chooses dishes to our taste from the kitchen, and if the servants are well-disciplined.’

  With a brief laugh, Judith turned her attention to Elin and Alys, holding up different gowns for her to choose to wear for the first formal meal in front of her husband’s court. Ghislaine kept silent, eyes wide as different silks and velvets were selected and discarded.

  A serving-girl brought a jug of warm water and a metal basin, together with linen cloths for Judith to wash away the fatigue of travel. She eyed the jug gratefully, but decided that when she was settled, she would enquire about the possibility of a real bath. Judith washed her face and arms quickly, allowing Elin to pat dry her skin and anoint her with the oil of muguet du bois that her mother had presented her with as a parting gift. The lily of the valley scent reminded her of home so much that her heart clenched in her chest, and it was only the giggles of Ghislaine that kept her from sobbing helplessly.

  Finally, Judith chose a gown of pale blue trimmed with tiny vertical ruffles of matching silk stitched into each seam. Her delicate linen shift was embroidered with a tracery of gold thread around the neck and cuffs, and the full sleeves of the gown fell away in dagged points. The front was cut slightly higher, showing the embroidery on the hem of her shift, and around her slender waist she wore a heavy golden girdle of linked circles, each ring set alternately with cabochon sapphires and large milky pearls. Her sleeveless mantle matched her gown, and around the collar and front edges it was trimmed with soft white coney fur.

  Alys had combed out her dark chestnut braid, and intertwined the hair from the crown of her head into a complicated twisted weave, held in place with a golden comb set with pearls at the nape of her neck. A token covering of a transparent silk square was set upon her head, and over this Judith wore a delicately-wrought filet of gold and pearls. The silk glimmered and shone, and did nothing to hide the beautiful tresses cascading down Judith’s slender back. Slipping her feet into dainty kidskin slippers, she declared herself ready, and her ladies hastened to change their own gowns into garments that were clean and less travel-worn.

  Catching up the weight of Judith’s train, Elin and Alys followed her, and Ghislaine led the trio do
wn the tower stair to the great hall where the feast would take place.

  ***

  Chapter 20

  Judith arrived at the door of the great hall and stopped so suddenly that her ladies almost fell over their own feet. She gazed into the vast room with amazement and more than a little horror. A cacophony of voices vied with one another to be heard, some speaking Latin and others a more guttural, alien-sounding language that Judith couldn’t understand. Dogs snarled at one another, then barked and yelped when a swift kick was aimed to quieten them.

  Smoke from the huge fireplace at one end of the hall belched into the room, casting a hazy pall over everything and making her eyes sting. Elin tried to cough discreetly behind her hand, and Alys wiped the sudden moisture from beneath her eyes with her fingers. Judith glanced at Ghislaine, standing unperturbed by her side.

  ‘Is it always like this?’ she hissed a whisper at the young girl, and received a happy nod.

  ‘Sometimes, yes, Highness. All the king’s oath-men want to see his new wife, as do their wives, so they were all invited.’

  The room was filled with people crammed onto the benches along the trestle tables. The noise was tremendous, the smell overwhelming. The scents of cooked meats and baked bread vied with that of the damp dogs strolling around the room, relieving themselves wherever they might, and the wet wool and musty fur of the cloaks of the oath-men. Judith imagined their ladies wore precious imported perfume, but the more unpleasant smells overwhelmed anything else, other than the smoke that tickled the back of her throat.

  She walked around the perimeter of the room, every eye upon her as the ladies and the men rose to their feet. Judith was unsure whether this was out of respect, or to get a better view. She could hear the female voices whispering, no doubt about her gown, or her hair, or her jewels. Judith concentrated on picking her way to the high table without stepping in any of the dog excrement that liberally decorated the flagstones.

  Finally she stepped onto the dais and moved along the seats to the one beside the King. To his right sat a clergyman she hadn’t yet met, and then Ralf, followed by other men clad in dark woollen tunics, darker fur cloaks and heavy beards. At the far end of the table, Judith could see the two young Saxon princes that had made the journey with her from Frankia, and the smaller of them waved his hand with a shy smile.

  King Ӕthelwulf took her hand and kissed her knuckles, and then sat heavily, pulling her hand downwards so she had no choice but to take her seat beside him. Elin sat next to her, then Ghislaine. Beside Ghislaine sat Lady Emer, so poor little Alys was consigned to the last place. Judith determined that she would make different arrangements next time.

  Servants brought in the food, huge chunks of charred meat piled haphazardly on wooden platters, with juice dripping into the straw covering the stone floor and making the dogs leave their corners with twitching noses. Following the meat came baskets of bread; small round loaves heaped one on top of the other, some golden, some slightly burnt and other pieces barely cooked.

  The platters were presented to the King, and he speared a large piece of brown meat, fat glistening around the edge, and dropped it onto the pewter plate in front of him. He poured an unidentifiable hot brown liquid from a jug over it, and snatched a brown-crusted loaf from the basket before it was passed to the clergyman at his side.

  Observing that Judith and her ladies had been ignored by the servants, he banged the hilt of his dagger on the table and tipped his head towards the ladies, who were watching the same ritual being played out along the tables ranged around the room. With a shamefaced look, the servant brought the platter of meat back towards Judith.

  ‘What is this meat?’ she asked in precise Latin, and received a blank look from the servant. She turned to the King, mopping up his gravy with his bread and dripping it into his beard carelessly.

  ‘Lord?’

  Ӕthelwulf grunted and shrugged, and Ralf leaned forward so she could see him.

  ‘The platter contains beef and mutton, Lady. The king likes both, so both are always served.’

  ‘Is there any chicken? Any pies? Judith gazed down the hall, but could only see the heaped wooden platters and the baskets of bread, along with the steaming pewter jugs along each table.

  ‘No, Lady.’ Ralf seemed to be at a loss what to say next, and the icy tones of Lady Emer came from Judith’s left.

  ‘The kitchen cooks what the King likes to eat, Lady. And we are all pleased to share in his good taste.’

  Judith watched as the older woman took a piece of meat from the platter and a loaf from the basket. Elin had a smaller piece of meat on her plate, as did Ghislaine, chewing already and dipping her bread in the thick brown gravy. Alys looked a little doubtful, but helped herself to a loaf and a piece of mutton. Judith met the servant’s gaze with her clear hazel eyes.

  ‘A piece of beef, if you please. And a small loaf of bread.’ The servant regarded her in surprise, and then Ralf spoke in what Judith presumed was the language the servant understood, because the man speared a small brown circle onto her plate, along with a golden roll and he gave her a shy smile. Judith nodded her thanks and he proceeded to serve the other men further down the table.

  Judith did her best to slice the meat with the small dagger by the side of her plate, spearing titbits into her mouth and chewing determinedly on the tough flesh. The bread was better, if rather dry. But she couldn’t bring herself to pour the thick, gelatinous liquid onto her plate. She sipped her wine, not wanting to drink the dark malty ale that was poured plentifully by serving girls into the tankards of the young men.

  She decided she would speak to Ghislaine at the earliest opportunity, to ask whom she should see regarding serving better food. Judith would rather cut out her own tongue than enquire of Lady Emer. Glancing around, she saw the clergyman seated at the other side of her husband lean forward to speak with her.

  ‘I am Archbishop Ceolnoth, my child. My apologies that we haven’t yet been formally introduced. I am one of the King’s most devoted servants, and I would be happy to help Lady Emer undertake your instruction as to the proper way a King’s wife should conduct herself.’ His Latin was perfectly correct, yet spoken with such a strange accent, it took her a moment to understand what had been said.

  Judith gazed wide-eyed at the elderly Archbishop. He was a florid man, with a sweating red face, fleshy lips and a nose with many broken veins. He wore an embroidered linen cap over sparse grey hair, and had sly, beady black eyes beneath bushy grey brows. He pulled his lips into a semblance of a smile.

  ‘Of course, Lady, you are from a foreign court, and couldn’t be expected to know how we behave in Wessex. I shall be pleased to instruct you, with your husband’s permission.’ He dipped his head towards Ӕthelwulf, who gazed at him blankly. The King turned to Judith.

  ‘Where is your husband, Ӕlswith? Is he away fighting Danes?’ Judith saw him pat her hand and nod sagely, and perplexed, she glanced quickly at Ralf.

  ‘Lord, the Lady Ӕlswith is at her court in Mercia with her husband. This Lady is Judith, your wife.’ The young man kept his voice low but the tone was insistent, and Judith risked a look at her husband.

  ‘Of course, my mistake. I was just thinking about my daughter, and this wine is very strong.’ Ӕthelwulf beamed at Judith, ‘Forgive me, my dear. I remember perfectly well who you are.’

  ‘I was just saying, Lord, that I would be happy to help Lady Emer instruct your wife in proper manners at our court.’ Archbishop Ceolnoth spoke as though addressing a congregation, and several of the oath-men and their wives at nearby tables hushed their own conversations to listen to the King’s response. Ӕthelwulf gazed long and hard at Judith, silent at his side, and then regarded the Archbishop with equanimity.

  ‘My wife
is a Princess of the Court of Frankia, Ceolnoth. I hardly think she needs a lesson in manners from you.’ He beamed back at Judith, and she risked a smile in return. ‘She is a beautiful jewel in the crown of Wessex. I am mightily pleased with her just as she is.’ He lifted Judith’s hand from beneath his enormous palm and kissed her knuckles, then hauled himself to his feet. Silence fell over the hall, and he lifted his goblet.

  ‘Lords, Oath-men, Ladies. May I present my wife Judith, daughter of the King of the Franks, Great-granddaughter of Charlemagne himself, and now Queen of Wessex.’ He toasted her, and to her surprise, everyone in the hall raised their cups in salute.

  Judith lifted her own goblet and put it to her lips, then gestured with it to the Court, as if she toasted them in return. Nodding and smiling as they shouted her name and drank, and drank again, she resumed her seat beside her husband while servants cleared the plates from the table and others brought in small pewter bowls. Judith looked down at the contents of her bowl, a violent purple mixture, and felt her shoulder nudged by Ӕthelwulf, spoon already in his hand.

  ‘Plum fool,’ he said, nodding at the concoction in her bowl, and took a huge spoonful of his own, smacking his lips as he swallowed.

  Observing Ghislaine eating her pudding with some relish, Judith dipped the tip of her spoon in the smooth mass and tasted it, trying not to shudder at the cloying sweetness. Determined not to reject yet another dish served by her husband’s kitchen, she forced the sweet creamy dessert past her lips, and then swallowed as soon as she could. Every mouthful she followed with a taste of her wine, and she soon felt quite light-headed.

  How she wished for a meal at her mother’s table. A tender chicken breast poached with mushrooms and onions in a light wine sauce, with either fresh strawberries or candied plums to follow, accompanied by a lightly whipped spoonful of cream. A shallow bowl of scented water to rinse her fingers, and a piece of fine linen with which to dry them. Properly watered wine, that wouldn’t give her a headache, or a foaming mug of pale, golden ale rather than the heavy brown brew that was served here. Abruptly, Judith had to blink back sudden tears of homesickness, and she shuddered a deep breath.