Overruled by Fate

by Leila Snow

  “Neither are you my Lady,” Muriel said, pointedly glancing at Madeline’s swollen belly. “We will take a litter.”

  “I can see you will not change your mind,” Madeline said. “I have to admit to being pleased to see a bit of spark back in your eyes. So be it. I will send some food for you and you will eat it, then ready yourself. In the meantime, I will have Sir Gareth and Sir Hugh make hasty preparations.

  * * *

  Before the sun had reached its pinnacle in the sky, the small group were on their way to Alwinsopp. Madeline anticipated seeing her home again. It seemed an eternity since she had last enjoyed its security and familiar comfort. She was also anxious to speak with her father and garner his advice on how to proceed with the abominable information that Muriel had shared about Geoffrey. Though she still felt shocked and stunned by the news that he had conspired to murder his own uncle and had also inadvertently killed his sister, she found that it did not stretch her imagination too far to believe it. She had seen that vein of ice in him from the very beginning. What she hadn’t realised, was how deep it ran, down to his very core.

  During the long hours of their travel, she accepted that her intimacy with the king had played no part in Endle’s death. Muriel had provided her full absolution from that guilt and a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. In its place had settled a deep yearning for justice, and if she was honest, for revenge.

  Geoffrey had almost killed her too. It was no surprise that he had been white and shaky at Aileth’s funeral mass. Apparently he wasn’t completely without conscience. He had just unintentionally murdered his own sister. Madeline mulled all these things over in her mind. Anger, sadness, regret…all rushed about in her heart and head. Not for the first time, she longed for Nate’s steadying presence, though she knew he must not find out about Geoffrey’s role in Aileth’s death. It would destroy him, for he would surely slay Geoffrey. And being of lower rank, the repercussions for him would be severe.

  Several hours later, Alwinsopp became visible, perched as it was atop the gentle rise of a hill. Madeline directed the knights alongside the small stream that ran at its base.

  “Stop here,” she called out as they neared the edge of the forest. “I’d like to rest a moment.”

  With some assistance Madeline clambered from the litter. “Remain here,” she told Muriel, who was looking quite worn.

  Nostalgically, Madeline walked until she stood underneath a towering oak. Resting her hand on its rough bark she looked about her at the little glade.

  “Is there aught amiss, my Lady?” Sir Hugh asked, coming up from behind her.

  She turned and smiled at him. “Nay, Sir Knight,” she explained. “I wax sentimental remembering my childhood, is all.”

  “Is this the location where Sir Nathaniel rescued you from the villain?” he enquired.

  “Indeed it is,” she confirmed. “But the day draws to a close and I must speak with my father with utmost haste. Let us depart,” she said.

  The old knight nodded and took her elbow to assist her back into the litter.

  * * *

  “He did what?” her father bellowed, his flame-red hair standing on end and his face flooding with colour.

  “He poisoned Lord Endle, and he used my maid to do so,” Madeline repeated. Having experienced the same horror, shock, and awe earlier that day, she knew how he felt.

  “And the maid poisoned Lady Aileth as well?” he shook his big head in confusion.

  “Nay Papa,” she explained patiently for the third time. “He did it himself. But he was trying to poison me because I carry the heir to Marbourne,” she said, a hand gently resting upon her stomach.

  “Tried to murder my daughter, did he?” the large man stood and pounded his meaty fist on his desk. “I’ll kill him myself!” he shouted.

  “That is not the solution,” Madeline reasoned with him, a fond smile on her face. “We must think clearly and reasonably.”

  “You are right of course,” Lord John agreed reluctantly, sitting down in his high-backed chair. He put his head in his hands and remained thus for many long moments.

  “As much as I would derive great pleasure from lopping off the bastard’s head myself,” he began slowly, “He is currently the earl, and as such, only the king is entitled to decide his fate.”

  Madeline nodded. “It is as I thought,” she said.

  “Firstly, I will send for Sir Nathaniel,” the big man planned. “If he rides hard, he could be here in three days. In the meantime, I will send your knights, Sir Gareth and Sir Hugh back to Marbourne to find this witch and confirm this farfetched tale.”

  “It is imperative that Sir Nathaniel not be told any of these details,” Madeline insisted. “He will not be able to control his retribution for his wife’s death and he will suffer for it.”

  “Agreed,” Lord John said with a nod. “I will summon him here to perform a task for me and then send him with a sealed message for the king.”

  “Very well,” Madeline said. “Shall I ask my guard to join us?”

  “Aye,” her father consented. “The sooner they can be off and back to us, the better.”

  Madeline pushed herself awkwardly to her feet and walked to the door. Opening it she beckoned to the knights who stood out in the corridor.

  They entered and stood expectantly in front of Lord John.

  “Though you have just arrived at Alwinsopp, I have a task I must request of you,” he began seriously. “It has been rumoured that Lord Geoffrey, has procured poison from a witch who resides in the forest outside Marbourne Village. We know not exactly where,” he paused dramatically to take in the shocked expressions on the knights’ faces.

  “This poison was supposedly the means of Lord Endle’s and also Lady Aileth’s death,” he nodded at their disbelief. “This is the information I need you to ascertain from the witch. Time is of the essence, as is secrecy, so I bid you leave as soon as you have eaten and retrieved fresh horses. Is it clear?”

  Both knights gave sharp, quick nods. Their jaws set and determined, they strode purposefully from the room.

  Yet, love, mere love,

  is beautiful indeed

  And worthy of acceptation.

  Fire is bright,

  Let temple burn, or flax;

  an equal light

  Leaps in the flame from

  cedar-plank or weed:

  And love is fire.

  And when I say at need

  I love thee...mark!...

  I love thee--in thy sight

  I stand transfigured,

  glorified aright.

  ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  CHAPTER 31

  Madeline watched from her window as Nate trotted his big warhorse through the gates of Alwinsopp. He didn’t look up to notice her regard and she was unable to see his face from her vantage point. Nevertheless, her heart leapt in her chest at his presence and proximity. She had missed him fiercely.

  Nathaniel dismounted agilely and handed the reins to a stable boy who had come forth. He turned and purposefully strode up the steps into the keep. Absently, Madeline wondered what excuse her father would use to send him to the king. Gently she placed her hand on her belly and whispered to the babe within, “Your papa is here, little one, and Mama is so pleased to see him.” She smiled softly and made her way to the great hall where she would be able to catch a glimpse of Nate the moment he finished his discussion with her father.

  * * *

  Sir Gareth and Sir Hugh arrived just before the evening meal. They approached the high table immediately upon entering the great hall and bent their heads to Lord John, though Madeline wasn’t able to hear what they said. Her father nodded seriously as they spoke and then waved them to take seats. “We will discuss it further after the meal,” he assured them.

  Nathaniel had been offered a seat at the high table as befitted his new status as a landed freeman, though after a lingering look at Madeline, he had declined. He found himself suddenly unsur
e of his ability to make casual conversation in the proximity of the woman he loved so profoundly. Instead, hoping for a chance to speak privately with her later, he had chosen the opportunity to renew his acquaintance with the knights he had grown up with and hadn’t seen in so long.

  “He’s a good boy,” Lord John said fondly as he watched the knight greeting his old comrades with grins and hearty backslaps. “I am sorrowed at the loss of his wife and child. Fate can be heartless in its dealings with us. But our knight is a strong, virile young man. I am convinced that he shall find a new wife soon enough.” Madeline blanched at his comment.

  “Here you are, my Lady,” Muriel interrupted Madeline’s thoughts. Setting down a full trencher and wine goblet, the maid whispered in her ear, “I have checked and tasted them myself.”

  Muriel had taken to overseeing the preparation and service of Madeline’s meals. Madeline was grateful for the woman’s thoughtfulness, although she suspected it also eased a guilty conscience.

  “Thank you, Muriel,” she responded with a smile. “Now please find a seat and make sure you eat well. You are still too thin for your own welfare.”

  The maid bobbed. “Yes, my Lady.”

  “In fact,” Madeline continued teasingly, “I believe there is space on the bench next to Sir Gareth,” she said with a wink.

  Muriel flushed hotly whilst her eyes searched out the newly arrived knight. She then returned Madeline’s grin and headed for the table.

  “Trying to set up a match for your maid are you, my girl?” her father chuckled, overhearing the exchange. “It’s time you were thinking of one for yourself.”

  “Papa!” Madeline exclaimed, appalled. “I am still in mourning for Lord Endle.”

  “It is true,” Lord John nodded. “But you are young and there is the babe to think of. In fact, I have mentioned it in my missive to the king. Sir Nathaniel will depart on the morrow with it.”

  “Nay, Papa!” Madeline shook her head vehemently. “I will not be pushed into another unwanted marriage.”

  Her father sighed. “Have you not yet accepted the way of the world, my dear?” he questioned. “And was your marriage to Lord Endle such a disaster?”

  “Nay, he was a kind man, but…” she protested.

  “I will hear no further talk of it,” he said, raising his hand to stop her. “You admit that Lord Endle was a good man and so you must trust me.”

  “But!” she argued.

  “No more!” he boomed.

  Madeline clapped her mouth shut…for now.

  * * *

  They met with Madeline’s guard in Lord John’s solar following the meal.

  “Tell Lady Madeline what you told me,” her father began, seating himself in his chair.

  Sir Hugh nodded. It took us most of a day to find the witch’s cottage,” he began. “The villagers seemed too afraid to help us and all pleaded innocence of any knowledge of her.”

  Sir Gareth spoke up. “The cottage is really more of a shack,” he said. “It is a miracle it hasn’t fallen down around her ears already.”

  The older knight agreed. “She told us that Lord Endle had her expelled from the village. He thought her tonics and healing potions to be witchcraft,” he added. “The witch disavowed any knowledge of poisons,” he continued. “She insisted she hadn’t known that Lord Endle had passed, let alone how his death came to be.”

  “She lied through her rotted teeth,” Sir Gareth piped in. “At least until we provided some incentive for the truth.”

  “The details of what incentive you provided are not fit for a Lady’s ears, Sir Gareth,” Lord John interrupted with a frown. “Pray continue, what did the old witch say?”

  “She admitted all,” the knight said bluntly. “Lord Geoffrey approached her with a pouch of coin and a promise to rescind her banishment if she gave him a slow-acting poison to kill Lord Endle. Then, shortly after our arrival back to Marbourne after the earl’s death, he attended the shack yet again. He presented another bag of coin and demanded a second poison. The witch knew his intent was to murder the Lady and her babe, yet she gave it to him anyhow, the evil hag! Lord Geoffrey told her that it must be potent and immediate.”

  Madeline sank down upon a bench. It was as Muriel had said. The truth had already been known to her but it was distressing to hear the sordid details.

  Lord John’s fist crashed down. “What I wouldn’t give to have my hands around the bastard’s throat!” he growled. “But it must be left to the king. I will send Sir Nathaniel with a missive for him immediately upon the morrow. You both will stay here to protect Lady Madeline,” he informed them. “Lord Geoffrey has shown his cunning guile by infiltrating the servants in the past, and I am not convinced there is a limit to his evil intent. The danger is not yet passed for my daughter. We must remain vigilant.”

  The guards nodded and left the room when he dismissed them.

  “Papa,” Madeline began. “I would like to accompany Sir Nathaniel to court.”

  Her father gave her a look of disbelief. “Are you foolish woman?” he rebuked her sternly. “Have you not noticed your state?” he asked. “You are in no condition to travel anywhere. Nay, you will remain here until the birth of the babe,” he said decisively.

  “I fear the king will tell Sir Nathaniel the truth of his wife’s death when he arrives,” Madeline explained, not dissuaded. “He will not take the news well. We have been close since childhood and I would like to be present to offer comfort and to be a voice of reason.”

  “You will not go!” Lord John boomed. “You are heavy with child. Pray God, why did I have to sire such a stubborn offspring?” he asked, turning his eyes heavenward.

  “Papa…” she begged.

  “You may ask a thousand times and the answer will forevermore be ’Nay’,” he said firmly. “It is for your own well-being, my dear, and that of your child.”

  Madeline glared at her father but dared not argue further. “Very well, Papa,” she said from between clenched teeth.

  * * *

  As Madeline watched Nate mount his horse in the courtyard early the following morn, she contemplated how foolhardy her next act was going to be. Indeed, she had dismissed Muriel until the noon meal, fearful that any suggestion of the maid’s involvement would result in severe punishment. When he cantered from the gates of Alwinsopp, she turned and spun into action.

  She had clothed herself once again in the commoner’s clothing she had acquired at Woodstock, with a sturdy pair of brown leather shoes upon her feet. She flung a voluminous, black cloak over her shoulders and pulled the deep hood up over her braided hair. Praying it would cover her identity, she quickly and furtively made her way down the hallway and the stone steps. Bypassing the great room, she could see Sir Gareth and Sir Hugh playing dice by the fire. She ducked her head away from them as they glanced nonchalantly her way.

  She was not interrupted by any shouts or summons and so, she hurried from the castle and across the bailey. The stables were a hive of activity. Madeline pulled the cloak hood further over her brow, concerned she would soon be discovered. She was relieved to find that the servants were fixated on their own tasks and seemed to pay her little attention. Quickly, she approached a young stable boy whom she had not seen before.

  “I am Lady Madeline’s maid,” she said, lowering her voice a tone and attempting a slight accent. “She has a missive for Sir Nathaniel to present to the king. As he has already departed, she has asked me to catch him up and deliver it to him. Fetch me a swift horse immediately,” she commanded.

  The boy nodded without question and much to her relief, rushed to do her bidding. In short order, he had led a horse out to the courtyard and was helping her to mount.

  “My thanks,” she bade him shortly and kicked the mare to a gallop.

  * * *

  It had been several moons since Madeline had ridden astride, and in her planning she hadn’t realized how awkwardly her belly would affect that ability. Now as she hurdled down the slope of t
he hill in pursuit of Nathaniel, she wished she had. She tried to hold herself out of the saddle as much as possible in order to avoid the jolting that sent a dull ache shooting through her back and belly each time her bottom landed hard in the saddle.

  Putting her discomfort aside, she strained futilely to catch sight of him ahead. She was unsure of the exact route he would take but worst case, she would meet him when they arrived to Woodstock. Further than that she had not thought, and she put it out of her mind now.

  She rode for hours, slowing the horse to an easy trot and sometimes a walk out of necessity and concern for her babe. As the sun sank below the hills, Madeline dismounted, holding onto the saddle for support of her shaking legs. When they had stopped quivering like jelly, she led the horse in the dim light, picking their way around the ruts and holes in the road. Finally, she was forced to admit that she needed to stop for the night. Her eyes ached from straining to see the next footstep and her belly was cramping terribly. She could hear the trickle of a nearby stream that sounded as if it was not far off the path. It would be as good a place as any to set up camp for the night. Both she and the horse needed a drink and a rest if they were to continue tomorrow.

  As she followed the loudening sound of the babbling brook, Madeline began to make out the flickering of firelight between the trees. Slowly moving closer, she carefully drew her knife from its sheath, hoping for friend but prepared for foe.

  As she cleared the tree line, she could see a neat fire blazing in the centre of a glade and to her abundant joy, she saw Nate’s great gelding tied to a nearby tree. She gazed about but could not see the man himself. Perhaps he was out hunting for his dinner, she thought as she led the horse down to the stream.

  In the moonlight, she could see the glimmer of metal on the sandy bank as she neared. A quick perusal confirmed it to be Nate’s sword, which lay atop a pile of his clothing. Her eyes widened and moved to the smooth surface of the water, just as his great shaggy head broke its tension.