‘F..f..father, G..g..gaston g..g..gave m..m..me this l..l..letter t..t..to b..b..bring to y..y..you.’ Louis handed the letter to the King and turned to pour himself a cup of wine. He knew his stammer became worse with agitation, and he didn’t want his father, or more importantly his brother, to realise he had already read the note.
‘It looks like he dragged it behind his horse, Father.’ Charles’ scornful voice echoed around the vaulted ceiling, disturbing some of the sparrows that lived high in the eaves.
‘Gaston is a soldier, my son,’ King Charles unfolded the dirty parchment, ‘and is unaware of the niceties of delivering letters. It is legible inside, even though the seal has crumbled away to nothing.’ The King bent his head and read the few lines the letter contained, then threw it down on the desk with an exclamation of dismay. Charles snatched the letter up and read it quickly.
‘You can’t let her get away with defying you, Father,’ the Prince shook the letter at King Charles. ‘If you want her to stay in Senlis and take the veil, then that’s what she will do. Or by God, I will take my soldiers and make her obey, on pain of death.’ Charles gazed around at the Count and at Louis, and Louis knew he was measuring the effect his words were having on his audience.
‘M..m..may I see the l..l..letter, Father?’ Louis was pleased he stammered less that time, and he held out his hand for the note. His brother tossed it towards him carelessly, and as the paper fluttered to the floor, Louis caught it and scanned the lines, pretending he hadn’t seen it before.
‘I’m g..g..glad she’s safe, Father.’ Louis smiled at Count Audacer, who returned the sentiment with a nod of agreement, among snorts of derision from Charles and a grunt of displeasure from the King.
‘And safe she’ll stay, my son. At the convent, as she should. Would I had never listened to your mother’s persuasion that she be allowed to marry.’
‘Women need to know their place in the world, Father. And Judith’s place is in Senlis. She needs to learn that she cannot flout your authority.’ Prince Charles’ voice held a note of satisfaction and Louis watched his brother put a hand on his father’s arm, his voice an inaudible whisper. Glancing at the Count, Louis lowered his own voice.
‘When you h..h..have a moment, Count, I would speak with you?’
Louis watched a flicker of understanding pass though the Count’s eyes before he gave an imperceptible nod of his head.
‘At your pleasure, Lord Prince,’ he whispered under his breath.
***
Chère Baldwin, mon amour.
We are currently living at Senlis, although I am determined that we will not be here for long. I have charged Adal to find me a country estate where I can live away from this place. When he has found a suitable property, I will write and tell your father where you might find me.
I pray you are still alive, and haven’t fallen to a Dane’s axe in the protection of my father’s realm. That, my love, is the only thing I pray for in this cursed place. The sister in charge is a termagant, a martinet of the very first order, and she wishes me to obey her every utterance. I tell you, my darling, that I will not. I have enough money to flee this fate my father seems determined to thrust upon me, and escape I shall.
If you are able to reply, please send your letter to the inn at Senlis, and I shall have Adal collect it. I will tell your father, in another letter, to do the same, as I am confident that the despot in charge would prevent any missive from reaching me and report every word to my father.
I remain your love, your hand-fasted wife, Judith D’Audacer, Lady.
***
Chapter 96
Baldwin pushed away his empty bowl with a sigh of satisfaction, rolling his shoulders beneath his leather jerkin. He had been hungry after sword practice, and the stew had been flavoursome. The usual customers patronised the tavern, men he had grown used to seeing night after night as he and Gozfrid ate their evening meal before falling onto their straw mattresses with exhaustion. Baldwin knew there would come a day when he would be pleased they had kept up their swordsmanship, and the tiredness he felt in his muscles helped him sleep and not worry unduly about Judith. The right opportunity would present itself soon, he was sure.
Two more customers pushed open the door, allowing a fresh waft of night air into the hostelry to cut the smoky atmosphere. Baldwin narrowed his eyes as he regarded the new arrivals through the haze, then he thrust an unexpected elbow into Gozfrid’s ribs.
‘I know that man. He works for the Princess.’ Baldwin sprang to his feet and hurried across to the trestle table, where the two men were being served a goblet of wine by the innkeeper.
‘Lords.’
Adal and Ralf gazed up in surprise, then broad grins split their faces, and Adal clapped Baldwin on the arm in greeting.
‘Lord, it is good to see you here. A friendly face is most welcome.’
Baldwin swept an arm towards Gozfrid, trying to wipe the drops of ale Baldwin’s sudden nudge had slopped into his beard from his ale cup.
‘Come and sit with us. Are you eating?’ Baldwin tipped his chin towards the innkeeper’s wife, hurrying from the kitchen with more steaming bowls of stew, the pockets of her apron weighed down with bread and spoons.
‘Aye, Lord. The swill served at the convent wouldn’t keep a man’s body and soul together.’ Adal spoke over his shoulder as he made his way through the throng towards Gozfrid, who hooked another stool with his foot for Ralf to sit.
Baldwin tilted his head towards the landlord. ‘He serves a good beef stew here, and his prices are very reasonable.’ The words left his lips without thinking. ‘How is the Princess?
‘Well, Lord. Annoyed at being kept from her family, but wanting to obey her father,’ Ralf smiled and raised an eyebrow, ‘for now, at least. She has written to her brother.’
Baldwin’s tone was suspicious. ‘Which brother?’
‘Prince Louis, Lord. She says he has her father’s ear, and he might be able to help.’ Ralf caught the eye of the landlady and gestured for two bowls of stew to be brought over, then leaned forward to listen to his friend’s lowered voice.
‘He might. But I don’t want to wait that long.’ Baldwin gazed at the other three men, shaking his head. ‘I don’t want to give her father chance to decide what to do with her, whether to marry her off once more or compel her to take vows.’ His voice hardened to implacability. ‘I swear I won’t be too late again.’
Ralf sipped at his wine and nodded. ‘I don’t think the Princess will allow her father to use her as a pawn again, Lord.’ He gave a small smile, and Baldwin wondered at the events that prompted it. ‘You will find her quite different.’
Before he could ask Ralf to explain himself, Adal shot Baldwin a calculating look. ‘What is it you propose to do, Lord?’
Instead of an answer, Baldwin asked his own questions. ‘I want you to tell us about the guards. How many there are, what they are like? Are they warriors?’
To Baldwin’s surprise, both Adal and Ralf burst into laughter. The innkeeper’s wife thrust steaming bowls peremptorily in front of them, slamming spoons and bread on the sticky table with a sharp nod. Adal pressed a coin into the woman’s hand and received a frightening smile of gratitude from a mouth with very few teeth.
Ralf shook his head at Baldwin and dug his spoon into the stew. ‘Not warriors, Lord. Soldiers, perhaps. But I only say perhaps. They seem a little green to me.’ He chewed ruminatively, and Adal nodded agreement.
Gozfrid regarded Baldwin, spreading his hands and shrugging, then addressed them all. ‘Well. Gaston wouldn’t leave his best soldiers behind to guard a convent, would he, Win? He would want his best men with him in case the Danes attack. He will have left behind those h
e cannot trust in a shield wall.’
Baldwin compressed his lips and thought for a moment, allowing the other two men to eat their meal. Sucking in a breath, he asked, ‘How many?’
‘Ten, Lord,’ answered Adal gruffly through a mouthful of bread.
‘Foutre! Ten? That many might take a little more planning.’
Ralf swallowed some ale. ‘The guards are living in the barn behind the nunnery. We occupy the gatehouse with the priest, Father Bernard. Sister Seraphina won’t have men living in the convent, so we sleep on straw pallets in there.’ With a shrug, he returned his attention to the stew.
‘Do they patrol?’
‘At night, they are supposed to check the perimeter from time to time. I heard Gaston give them their orders, but they don’t seem too conscientious. They are happy to while away the day playing games of chance in the shelter of the barn.’ Adal shook his head disapprovingly.
Baldwin thought for a while, considering what he had been told, and he levelled a gaze at Gozfrid.
‘So, Goz. Those pretty blond locks of yours and those innocent blue eyes will serve us well. I want you to persuade Maman Poulet over there to sell us some of her strongest, least watered wine. Five bottles should be enough.’ He ignored the surprised look on his friend’s face and turned to Adal.
‘And I want you to ask the innkeeper, man to man, if there’s a healer in the town. One with access to potions you wouldn’t want the church to know about.’
‘Why, Win? What sort of potions do you mean?’ Gozfrid was curious.
‘There will always be some man or woman who knows how to put a babe in a wife’s belly, or how to get one out. You’re not going to tell me that a man with a wart on the end of his cock is going to slap it out in front of a nun and ask her to pray over it? He’ll take it to a hovel in the forest and ask the local wart-charmer for a poultice. I want some poppy-milk as a sleeping draught, so I need Adal to ask the landlord where to get some. You, I need to charm some wine from Maman Poulet.’
Gozfrid snorted a laugh. ‘And once I have wheedled my way into Mother Goose’s wine cellar, Win? What then?’
Baldwin swallowed the rest of his ale and held up his tankard for a refill, grinning as the landlady waddled towards him with the ale-jug. ‘Then we have Ralf and Adal take the guards a bottle or two of decent wine for them to enjoy. Once most of them are asleep, we can deal with the others.’ He gazed around the table at the other three men. ‘I don’t want them dead. I want them with us.’
***
Chapter 97
Prince Louis watched his father and brother ride out of the castle towards the forest for a day’s hunting. The forest and parkland which made up the royal estate were kept full of wild boar and deer, as well as other game, for the King’s pleasure to hunt. Louis would often accompany his father, along with the many courtiers and nobles who surrounded the monarch, but this day he had to see Count Audacer.
He watched the party gallop towards the tree line, the sunlight which glinted on his father’s coronet making the King’s mount easy to track. Louis noticed that his brother also wore a circlet, smaller to be sure, but still an affectation calculated to please and impress their father. Louis hoped King Charles was sufficiently aware of his younger son’s temperament to be unmoved by this artifice.
Once the hunting party was out of sight, Louis hurried along the wall-walk and down the stone stair to the gallery where Count Audacer’s rooms were. After a perfunctory knock, the prince entered the chamber and was greeted by a smile of welcome from the Count.
‘Lord Prince.’ Baldwin’s father bowed and moved to the table to pour a goblet of wine, as Louis nodded his thanks.
‘I h..h..have h..h..heard from my s..s..sister, Count. She is ensconced in the c..c..convent, and is m..m..making p..p..plans for her f..f..future.’ Louis sipped at his wine and sat down opposite the Count, trying to control his breathing so he might stammer less. He took another mouthful and breathed out slowly through his nose.
‘I have contacted my son, Lord Prince, and he is at the tavern in Senlis making his own plans. The Princess has sent me a letter to pass on to him, so she cannot yet know he is already there.’ Count Audacer regarded Louis calmly and tasted his own wine with delicacy.
Louis took another moment to compose himself before speaking. ‘I have w..written to our cousin L..Lotha, and he is happy to offer them sh..shelter for as l..long as they wish.’ He sipped again, pleased that his speech was clearer as his heartbeat slowed.
‘I shall convey that information to Baldwin, Lord Prince, when I send him further funds.’ The Count beamed at Louis benevolently as the Prince nodded enthusiastically and unloosed the purse from his own belt.
‘S..send them that, Count. It might h..help until F..father forgives them and they come home.’
Louis saw the Count raise an eyebrow. ‘Do you think that your father will allow that, Lord Prince?’
Louis shrugged and took another swallow of wine, gazing up at the Count with a calculating expression. ‘When my father speaks about J..Judith and my b..brother is not present, he is more logical. I think he p..plans to see if he needs her back in the m..marriage market, after a suitable interval, of course. It is only when my b..brother stirs up t..trouble that he begins to think she would be b..better in the convent p..permanently.’
Louis pressed his lips together and breathed through his nose for a moment. Speaking about his brother and how he tried to influence their father made him agitated, and that translated into his speech. He wondered if his stammer would become better or worse when he eventually became King and the power was his alone.
‘And you think he will marry her elsewhere again? My son won’t like that.’ Louis heard the doubt in the Count’s tone, and he took a moment to think how to phrase his response.
‘I think my father is a p..practical man, but he has a t..tendency to short-sightedness. When Judith’s first husband d..died and she was f..forced into her second wedding, he had no intention of sending help to her, despite the fear she felt about the cruelty and disdain her s..second husband f..felt towards her.’ Louis paused for a moment and took a sip of wine.
‘My f..father still needed Wessex and the agreement for troops. Now the D..danes are quiet, he goes hunting and thinks the threat is over. But they m..might only be regrouping, waiting to elect another leader who envisions the capture of l..land and slaves, either here or in Wessex.’ Louis paused again, taking a deep breath. He was unused to speaking so long, choosing to listen rather than talk in case he was mocked. The Count did not mock.
‘Then he might need J..Judith to cement another t..treaty, and the might of your son to f..fight for him.’ He fell silent and waited for the Count’s response. The older man poured them some more wine and regarded the Prince levelly.
‘You have given this a great deal of thought, Lord Prince.’
Louis grinned, enjoying the hint of surprise he could detect in the Count’s voice. He twisted his mouth in a deprecating smile.
‘Because of m..my speech, Count, I choose to s..stay silent for much of the t..time, but don’t mistake my silence for m..misunderstanding. I understand p..policy better than many people think, including my father and b..brother.’
‘Indeed,’ replied the Count, meeting Louis’ eyes and tipping his goblet towards him, ‘you will make a good king, Lord Prince.’
Louis laughed. ‘I hope to, Count. B..better than my b..brother, anyway. He is too impetuous and involved in p..petty revenges to m..make a wise king.’
Audacer nodded slowly. ‘Agreed. And I shall do my best to influence your father not to annexe any land for Prince Charles to rule. He would attack the Danes himself, and we do not need to instigate war. Rather negot
iate a way of living peacefully.’
Louis shrugged, and took another swallow of wine. ‘Charles will never choose the p..peaceful life, Count. He likes his own way too much, and f..feels threatened and aggrieved by all who m..might thwart him. That is why he tries to influence our f..father against B..baldwin.’ He pushed the goblet toward the Count and stood, pulling down his velvet tunic as he walked towards the door.
‘Then I will send a message to my son, Lord Prince, letting him know that King Lotha offers a safe haven until they can persuade your father to allow them to marry, and they have been blessed by the Pope.’
Louis chuckled, twisting the latch on the door and turning to face the Count. ‘‘I rather think that B..baldwin will ask f..forgiveness, Count. Not p..permission. From either my f..father or His Holiness.’
‘Then God help us all, Lord Prince.’
***
Chapter 98
Baldwin stood in the shadow of the gatehouse portal, awaiting the sound of the guard rattling the lock as he checked it was secure and then moving away. Adal had taken the drugged wine to the other guards, and Baldwin had no doubt that they would enjoy it.
He could see the glitter of Gozfrid’s eyes as they flicked towards him, reflecting the light of the moon as it peeped from behind the high wisps of cloud. The night was dark, but the grey glow of cloud surrounding the moon gave them enough light to see where they were going. Impatiently, Baldwin flicked his dagger hilt, until Gozfrid leaned forward and stopped him.
‘That’s loud in the silence, Win,’ grinned his friend. ‘You don’t want the guards to know we wait here.’
Judith, Twice Queen of Wessex Page 31