Cloaked in unreality, I sat like one cast in stone as the ceremony was carried out. Flanked by Archbishop Ealdred of York and Stigand of Canterbury, Harold, dressed in his finest, processed through the aisled nave that thronged with the cream of England’s nobility. All those who had come forth for the Christmas witanagemot and stayed to bury their king, now delayed their departure further to witness the kingmaking of Harold Godwinson.
Quire monks sang the Te Deum ‘We praise thee, O God,’ their voices rising high and clear to the vaulted roof, where pigeons fluttered, indifferent to the exulted company. Next to me Gytha, Harold’s mother, shredded her kerchief in her lap; overwhelmed with pride at her son’s achievement, she could not stem her happy tears. Leo and Gyrth sat further along but, of the dowager queen, there was no sign. Edith, no doubt, remained in her chambers, her future uncertain and her emotions in turmoil. I wondered what she would do now, her break with Harold would make it difficult for her to stay at the court and I could not imagine her shutting herself away in cloisters. Perhaps she would retire to her Winchester holdings.
Archbishop Ealdred was speaking so I sat up straighter, paying the attention the occasion required. He asked if the people accepted Harold as the right man to rule over them and the congregation rose to a man.
‘We do.’ they cried out, ‘We do.’
When the clamour of their cries died away, Harold spoke, promising to uphold the laws of England, to protect the people, without favouritism or regard for rank or class. Detached from him, set apart in the crowd, he seemed a stranger to me. There was no crooked smile or quizzing frown and no hint of derision in his voice. For once he was perfectly sincere and I knew that his promise to rule justly was an honest one, given from his heart.
I was numb from sitting for so long and needed to get up and move around, to bring the blood and warmth back into my frozen feet, but I did my duty and sat unmoving through the lengthy service. There were further prayers and psalms and then more hymns, in which the archbishops asked God to help Harold maintain his oaths. They prayed for peace and protection from enemies in his time and, all the while, the ethereal voices of the choir rang out, scattering goose pimples across my body. When Harold finished speaking, the congregation stood again and shouted, ‘Amen’ and I joined in, tears on my cheeks, swept away by the emotion.
The anthem, the same sung at the anointing of King Solomon, began while the Archbishop Eldred stepped forward and anointed the kneeling figure of the new king with the sacred chrism. Then another prayer and Harold was helped to his feet and garbed in the royal vestments, the robe, coat and stole. The coronation ring was placed upon his finger and the sword fastened about his waist and then, finally, the crown was placed upon his brow. The anthem May the King Live Forever burst forth and Harold stepped from the altar down into the welcoming throng.
‘Vivat rex in aeternum.’ his people cried.
I stood apart as first while his brothers and then his sons by Eadgytha made a knee to him. As soon as she was able to reach him, his mother fell to her knees but Harold stooped and raised her up, kissing her on both cheeks before drawing her to his side.
‘You will never kneel to me, Mother,’ I heard him say and then I saw him look about the nave, and I knew he was looking for me. Our eyes met above the milling heads of his subjects and he smiled, his mouth crooked and one eyebrow raised in the old familiar way.
Beneath the Hoaréd Apple Tree
Thorny Island March 1066
Early one morning, seeking the solitude of the surrounding fields, I walked from the palace. Rising from my empty bed, I looked in on the children. They slept, curled like a litter of pups, the covers tossed and rumpled, their faces pink with the flush of sleep. Leaving the door ajar lest the squeaking of the hinges waken them I crept away. Anwen or Maud would hear them should they stir. It was a rare escape now that I was queen and I could not recall the last time I had wandered abroad at will.
The March wind whipped my cloak, tugging it back against my throat and teasing tendrils of hair from beneath my cap. I wrapped it around me and mounted the hill, growing breathless from the exertion. At the top I stood, looking down upon the river as it snaked, serpentine across the valley floor. I wondered if Harold would return that day. Too often of late had I woken to find myself alone.
There was no doubt that state business kept him busy from dawn but I could not help but wonder how many nights he spent at Waltham, wrapped in Eadgytha’s arms. The early weeks of his reign had not been easy and an anxious, overwrought expression replaced his usual cheer. Left alone at the royal palace, I seemed to do little else but worry about my ability to hold my husband’s affection. My second marriage was proving as discontented as the first but, this time, it was not because I despised my husband but because I loved him too well. I could not tell him how I felt or explain my irrational female moods for he would laugh, lift that eyebrow in derision and no doubt discuss my insecurities in the softness of Eadgytha’s bed. I could not blame him for returning to his former love in these hard days, for she was undeniably more beautiful and understood his needs far better than I could ever hope to. But soon I would be even less equipped to compete with her. My belly would rise, my ankles and fingers swell and I’d offer not the slightest temptation to a man of Harold’s tastes.
Kicking at a loose stone, I held back my hair and turned my head to look downstream to where a trading vessel had become stranded on a sand bank. From the distance I watched men clambering over the deck, trying to unload the cargo before the craft became swamped in the incoming tide.
No noise from the town reached me on my lonely hill, the only sounds I could hear was the cawing of rooks as they spiralled and turned in the brittle skies, and the slow tolling of the Terce bell. The children would be rising and the servants bringing my breakfast and, knowing the palace would be thrown into panic at my unexplained absence, I reluctantly turned and made my way back toward the hall.
As I had suspected, the wooden shutters were thrown wide and Anwen hung out of the window, still in her nightrobe, her braids hanging like bell ropes from the casement.
‘Lady.’ she cried when she saw me, ‘the entire household is searching for you. Where have you been? Look at the hem of your gown, all soiled and dirty. Tut, tut, tut, I don’t know. Come, break your fast, the king has sent word that he returns this day.’
‘Will he bring presents?’ asked Idwal, hearing her words as he emerged from his sleeping chamber, rubbing his eyes. ‘I hope so; he does bring such good things. Do you think he remembers that he promised us a pup, Mother?’
‘I don’t know, sweet one,’ I replied, kissing the top of his head, ‘now he is king he has so many other things to remember so we shouldn’t mind if we are overlooked from time to time.’
Anwen shot me a sharp glance and I sat down and began to spoon the porrage into my mouth. I did not feel like eating but couldn’t face the consequences of her disapproval should I try to avoid it.
‘The king rides from Winchester, Madam, the messenger said he should be another hour or two on the road.’
‘About time. It has been a long three days since he left.’
‘Well, Madam, pardon my saying so, but if he returns to see the dismal face you are wearing this morning he may not wish to tarry long.’
I put down my knife and burst into tears. Idwal sat with his spoon in his mouth, his eyes wide while Anwen scurried around the table to take me by the shoulders and lead me to my sleeping quarters.
‘Whatever is it?’ she asked when we were alone. I rubbed at my nose with my cuff and dabbed my tears on my apron.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Anwen. I’m afraid. Suppose I cannot keep Harold’s affection? I know I could have if we had stayed at Bosham but, now that he is king and we are apart so often, I fear I will lose him. And now there is to be a child …’
‘I knew it!’ cried Anwen, hugging me and planting a big wet kiss on my cheek, ‘Oh Lady, he will be so pleased. You have wasted no time at all in proving your fer
tility. How can he fail to be delighted with you?’
‘Delighted with a bloated pig of a wife? How can I hope to keep him away from the swan-necked Eadgytha now? And he has sons already, what makes you think he will want mine to follow in his stead when he has young Godwin proving so able a prince?’
Anwen sat down beside me, taking liberties the other ladies would not have dared.
‘Now, now, now,’ she crooned, ‘tis naught but that babe making you testy. These early months, they sour your porrage and salt your honey. Just you wait ‘til the king gets here and you give him your news. I swear he will be beside himself with joy. Why, the promise of an heir will secure his seat on the throne and chase all his foes away.’
Sniffing, I raised my eyes.
‘But, Anwen, when I tell him I am with child he will have all the more reason to find his comforts elsewhere. This child may prove to be the final breach between us.’
Anwen got up and began rummaging through my clothes press.
‘I think you misjudge him, Lady. He adores you, that is plain to see. You shouldn’t judge this man by your last. Come let’s dress you in your finest, give him a taste of what he has been missing.’
When Harold strode through the door and flooded the chamber with his charm I could not help but be glad.
‘Anwen!’ he cried, opening his arms, ‘me true darlin. Come and sit on my knee and let us discuss whatever arises.’
Anwen threw her apron over her head and ran, shrieking, from the room. Still angry with him, I smothered my sudden smile.
‘That got rid of her,’ he grinned and, in two steps, was across the room, planting a kiss on the back of neck. I hunched my shoulder against it and pulled away.
‘Look, what I have for you,’ he cried and, producing a sack, poured a heap of coins into my lap.
‘Harold.’ I exclaimed, ‘this is a small fortune. Whatever do I need so much money for?’
‘Tisn’t just any old coin, Sweetheart. Take a close look at it.’
Picking up a fresh-minted silver piece I held it to the light, twirling it between finger and thumb.
‘Is that supposed to be you, Harold? You look like a Roman emperor.’
He laughed. ‘You are right, I do. And why shouldn’t I, hey? They are to be minted and distributed throughout the land, ‘tis important that the coinage of the realm is centralised to put an end to counterfeiting. What do you think? I bet you never thought to see my handsome features on a silver penny.’
I certainly had not and it pleased me. It was good to see he was concentrating on aspects of kingship that meant much to him. Although he had long played the part of Edward’s right arm, he had ever been at his king’s bidding and unable to govern as he saw fit.
I looked to where he sat on the window seat, one foot on a stool. He was grinning at me as if he had not a care in the world, displaying no guilt at having spent time with his mistress. It took him some time to note my silence and, at length, he sighed, getting up and coming to stand close to me.
‘You seem out of sorts,’ he said, brushing my hair back from my shoulder the better to see my face. ‘What’s the matter?’
The resentment plain in my voice I cried, ‘Where have you been, Harold? ‘tis three nights and four days since you rode out. I had expected you sooner.’
He let out a long breath.
‘I’ve been being a king.’ he cried, ‘ruling the kingdom, what do you think? I’ve met with Archbishops and taken advice of the witan. I’ve decided to give Tostig’s lands at Northampton to young Waltheof, the son of Siward. He deserves some reward for his loyalty and neither your brothers or mine are in need of more land.’
He was so casual, so seemingly innocent; how could he lie to me like this? Unable to restrain myself I took a deep breath. ‘And how are Eadgytha and your children?’
Immediately I wished the words unsaid but it was too late. He swivelled on his heel and glared at me, the blood draining from his face and anger replacing his former high spirits.
Answer that if you can, my Lord. I thought and then jumped as he kicked savagely at the stool, sending it flying into the hearth where soon it would begin to smoulder.
‘So that’s what’s been hanging in the air like a putrid fart,’ he yelled, ‘I thought you knew me better, madam.’ He made to leave the room but, before he reached the door, changed his mind and came back, grabbing my arms and all but dragging me to my feet. I hung on tiptoe before him, his enraged breath gusting into my face as he bellowed. ‘Let me tell you, madam that, should it please me, I would indeed take a mistress but it would not be Eadgytha. She is a good, virtuous woman and my respect for her is too great to expect her to resort to impropriety. I would not ask it of her. Eadgytha was my handfast wife; that does not make her a whore. She is the mother to my children. When I visit them, I will tell you, although I don’t see why I should, but when I do visit it will not be to sate my lusts, it will be out of gratitude and affection. Is that clear now, Eadgyth or should you like me to set it down in letters?’
Tears were on my cheeks, my mouth was dry and from the sudden, loud ringing in my ears, I knew I should soon faint.
‘What on earth is going on?’ came Anwen’s outraged voice from the door, ‘We can hear the rumpus all the way to the kitchens. And what do you think you do, my Lord, treating my Lady so in her condition? Leave her be and go cool your head.’
Harold released me as if I was contagious and I would have fallen had Anwen not been there to support me. She led me to the bed and helped me lie upon it, removing my slippers and loosening the neck of my gown, fanning my brow ineffectually with her kerchief. Harold remained unmoving before the hearth. Anwen turned to face him, hands on hips.
‘Well?’ she enquired, all respect for her king forgotten. Harold shuffled his feet.
‘What condition?’ he asked, ‘you said ‘in her condition’ what condition would that be?’
‘Well. When you’ve calmed yourself perhaps you can ask her that yourself.’
Pushing past her Harold approached the bed where I lay back on the pillows. He took my limp, sweating hand.
‘Are you with child, Eadgyth?’ he asked, all rage subsided, and I nodded, tears rolling into my ears, for now I knew he would now no longer come to my bed.
But, instead of shunning my company as Gruffydd had he scooped me into his arms, his breath hot on my neck.
‘Oh, may the Lord be praised,’ he wept.
Thorney Island April 1066
‘Well, I managed to find most of what you asked for’ said Harold, coming backward into the room with a laden tray. ‘The strawberries you will have to do without but I have the rest …even the salt herring.’
He deposited the tray on the nightstand, beneath the flickering torches and climbed onto the bed. I reached for a honeyed wafer and a gull’s egg. ‘I don’t know,’ he continued, taking off his boots and throwing them across the room, ‘the household sleeps while the monarch and his queen are forced to find their own sustenance. Even the night guard have dropped off, I could have slit their throats had I so wished. By rights I should have them hung but I am too soft.’
‘I could not wait until breakfast,’ I said, biting into a pasty, ‘I’m starving.’
Helping himself from the odd assortment, he ripped the leg from a chicken.
‘Maybe its all the night-time activity we’ve been enjoying, do you think we should stop?’
‘NO.’ I cried, ‘certainly not. I am well and happy, my Lord, abstinence will do neither of us any good.’
‘Hmm, just as long as you are not saying that because you fear I will take my needs elsewhere.’
Thoroughly chewing the meat and vegetable pasty before swallowing, I helped myself to a goblet of wine, well watered down, as my condition dictated.
‘Truly, Harold, do you not think that if the good Lord did not intend us to make love while we were pregnant he would have it impossible for us to do so?’
‘Oh, you don’t have to persuade
me, Sweetheart. I am happy to oblige just so long as it suits you.’
I threw a cushion at him and he lifted the bedcover, climbing in beside me and snuggling up, the chill of his body striking cold through my thin gown.
‘What do you make of that strange star in the sky, Harold?’ I said, licking chicken grease from my fingers. ‘They are saying it is an omen, do you think it is? And is it a good omen or a bad? Never have I seen ought like it and it is there without fail, every night, like a great fiery dragon belching forth flame.’
Pulling the neck of my gown wide, exposing my breasts, Harold cupped them, delighting in their increased size and density. ‘I think ‘tis a sign that my reign will be a great one. Together we will bring all England to prosperity and peace.’
I gasped as he began to pull, slowly and steadily on my nipple. Fighting for concentration, I continued.
‘What about William? And there’s Tostig too, what is he doing all this time? Where has he gone and what are his plans? Do you think he allies with Normandy?’ Harold propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me in exasperation.
‘Do shut up, woman, you have no sense of timing. I will deal with William just as soon as he sets sail and, as for Tostig, well, if he steps out of line, he will be made right sorry. Don’t worry, the country will be safe from invasion by the time this little one comes to rule. I shall make it my life’s work. Now, have a hush, I’m busy.’
So I lay back and enjoyed the feeling of his moustaches tickling the taut skin on my stomach. His hands cupped my womb before moving lower, stroking, tickling and probing. All other thoughts vanished.
The strange haired star remained in the sky, moving imperceptibly, a bright blaze in the night and even remaining just visible during the day. We eyed it askance, uncertain what it meant. The people spoke of omens and evil portent, of the inevitability of failed crops and famine and its silent presence spread disquiet throughout the land. Although it was May, the weather clung to the winter season, wet, bleak and windy. The children ailed and tempers were short.
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