by Kris Tualla
“It was my choice to leave Arendal, Avery.” He gave her a wan smile. “And I am glad that I was able to see my mother and my brothers this past year at last.”
Avery sipped her tea. “Catherine’s mood has been sour. She is not with child yet again.”
Jakob shook his head. “The talk among the men is that Henry stopped visiting her bed once Bessie’s boy was born.”
“I feared that was the case. I cannot ask her outright, of course.” Avery nibbled some smoked fish, considering her own childless situation.
In her case, never conceiving with her horrid first husband was a blessing. And at thirty-six years of age she did not want to bear a child. She told Jakob this before they married and thankfully he was of like mind. Now the couple used precautions to assure that they were not unhappily surprised.
“She does have Mary, who will be queen someday,” Jakob observed. “And the girl has a keen mind for a four-year-old.”
“That must be her solace, then.” And I will need to remind her of that fact. “How are Percy’s wedding plans coming?”
Jakob chuckled. “Henry is turning this into one of his celebrations.”
Avery grinned; Henry was always in favor of a social gathering. “Will there be a theme?”
“Valentine’s of course. Even if the actual ceremony will be ten days or so after the date, Henry says that the entire month of February celebrates romance.” Jakob chuckled again. “And what is more romantic than the epitome of the gay bachelor being tamed into marriage at long last?”
February 11, 1520
Avery sat with Catherine, who was ordering new gowns for herself and Princess Mary in anticipation of Percy’s wedding feast.
“She is old enough to be presented as the future queen,” Catherine explained. “I must not allow circumstances to distract Henry from his daughter’s rightful position.”
Avery agreed. “Not that any bastard could ever claim the throne.”
Catherine shot her a fierce look. “No, the Pope would never allow the issue of an adulterous affair to be crowned as king—or queen should it come to that—of a loyal Catholic nation.”
“Lady Avery?” A page stood at the door.
“Yes?”
“A messenger has brought this for you.” The man held out a folded paper. There was no seal.
“Bring it to me, please.” Avery shifted a bolt of velvet from her lap and accepted the note.
Catherine watched her expectantly. “What is it?”
Avery gasped with joy. “My trade ship has begun its journey up the Thames!”
Catherine beamed at her. “Then it should dock by nightfall.”
“And I shall be able to repay you within a fortnight.” That was an enormous relief; Avery hated owing anyone money, even her closest, richest, and most powerful friend.
Catherine picked up a sample of lace and held it against a bolt of red and black brocade. “This is the ship that sailed to Norway, isn’t it? What’s it called?”
“The Albergar.” Avery flashed a sly smile. “The name served me very well, so I chose to revive it.”
§ § §
Jakob accompanied his wife to the London dock just before the sun set. “We will not stay long,” he warned. “This is not a safe place at night.”
Avery opted not to mention the nighttime forays she enjoyed for years. Passing herself off as a man to passersby, she met with a young whore named Lizzy who kept her informed of rumors and scandals involving the Tudor court. If Avery discovered anything of import she would tell Catherine the next day.
Catherine never asked Avery how she knew what she knew, but the queen soon discovered that Avery’s stealthy intelligence was usually quite accurate.
“Thank you for accompanying me, Jakob.” Avery leaned her back against his chest, in part because of the damp and chilled air. “I am far too excited to sit quietly in our home this night.”
She felt his chest bounce with amusement. He leaned down and spoke in her ear. “I confess to being very curious as well.”
His warm breath tickled the skin on her neck in a very pleasant manner.
“I may not be able to fall asleep easily after such excitement,” she murmured. “I might require a diversion.”
“At your service, my love,” he replied and kissed her neck. “Whatever diversion you require, I shall happily provide.”
Once the ship was secured against the dock with thick ropes, the wide and heavy plank was lowered into place. Men began to scramble up and down, carrying bundles and crates as they did.
“The majority of the goods will be dealt with tomorrow in the light of day,” Jakob explained. “What they are transferring now are the personal effects of any crew or passengers who are disembarking.”
“Hello, there.” The feminine voice to Avery’s side was familiar and welcomed.
Avery smiled at Lizzy. “How are you doing?”
The whore shrugged and flashed a crooked grin. “I have no complaints.”
“Is anything of interest going on?”
“Bethington’s marriage is gaining the interest of the bookmakers.” Lizzy leaned forward and looked up at Jakob. “The odds are now three to one that he will not show up.”
“I might take that,” Jakob teased.
Avery elbowed her husband in the belly.
Lizzy smiled. “I will move along, my lady. I do not wish to draw unwanted attention to you.”
“You know you can always give a message to Higgins if you want to see me.” The Tower guard with a penchant for ladies’ undergarments was the third person out of the only three who knew about Avery’s covert actions.
Lizzy dipped her chin and sashayed toward the disembarking sailors. “Hoy, boys. Lookin’ for some comp’ny?”
Avery sighed. “She has too much intelligence to be selling herself like that.”
“Unfortunately, opportunities and intelligence are not gifted in tandem,” Jakob observed. “As is evident in any royal court, as you are keenly aware.”
That reality was unfortunate but, “True.”
The few passengers aboard were beginning to disembark. “Shall we return to the Tower?” Jakob asked. “We can return in the morning to speak with the captain.”
“I suppose.” Avery turned to face Jakob. “I am becoming a bit chilled.”
He was not looking at her. He was staring at the ship like he could not believe what he saw.
“Jakob?”
He shook his head and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the bottom of the plank. She hurried to keep pace with his limping but lengthy stride.
Jakob halted in front of a tall woman whose faded red hair was heavily streaked with white. She looked at Jakob. Even in the dimming evening, Avery could see the blue of her eyes was ringed in white.
An astonished smile spread the older woman’s cheeks. “Jakob!”
“Bergdis?” Avery yelped. “What are you doing here?”
“Mor, hvor er du her?” Jakob asked in Norsk.
Jakob’s mother reached for her son’s hands. “Jeg har kommet for å besøke min kjære sønn og hans vakre kone.”
Avery remembered enough of the language to understand the simple sentence: I have come to visit my dear son and his beautiful wife.
Chapter Three
Gonzalo Esteban stood near the rail of the Albergar and watched the old woman walk down the gangplank. If his luck held, he would recognize the man or woman who met her at the pier.
When she boarded the ship in Arendal, the name Hansen caught his immediate attention. He would have asked her outright about her family if he could have, and he was certain any interest he showed in her would have been welcomed. But Bergdis Hansen sat alone at meals and walked along the deck alone these last weeks.
The reason, of course, was that the woman only spoke an unintelligible language than sounded nothing like his elegant Spanish. And though Gonzalo was working on his English, that was of no help either. He managed to communicate a few details with h
er using what bits of Latin he remembered from church, combined with hand motions and pantomime.
Gonzalo saw the tall Nordic knight and his haughty Spanish bitch of a wife walking toward the ship. He pulled the brim of his hat lower and watched them like a hawk watches its prey. As Bergdis made her cautious way down the steep plank, the knight grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her to meet the old woman.
By the look on his face, he had no idea she was coming.
Gonzalo narrowed his eyes and intently watched the exchange. Bits of translated conversation drifted upward, carried by the excited surprise of the unexpected visitor.
When the knight had procured a wagon for the woman—who obviously was his mother, judging by her age and the pair’s physical similarities—Gonzalo walked down the plank with the lapels of his coat pulled up and the brim of his hat still pulled down. Once the trio was on their way, Gonzalo followed the wagon on the short journey to the fortress’s bridge across a putrid moat. Staying on the city’s side, he watched the couple pass through the massive guards’ gate at the Tower of London without being questioned.
He allowed himself a grim smile, then. His task would not be an easy one, but Gonzalo was a determined man. He had been deeply wronged, and that wrong must be set to rights.
“Enjoy your night, Hansen,” he muttered into the fog as he returned to the ship.
You have no idea what else is coming.
§ § §
By the time Jakob translated his mother’s answer for Avery—I have come to visit my beloved son and his beautiful wife—gathered his mother and her trunk, and hired a wagon to deliver them to his house inside the Tower walls, the sun had fully set and a cold foggy darkness enveloped the city.
Jakob was completely stunned to see his mother disembark from the trade ship; in her lifetime the woman had never traveled as far as Christiania, where Akershus Festning protected Norway’s capitol city. When she walked down the gangplank of Avery’s ship here in London, he could not believe his eyes.
But he had the good sense to get her out of the cold and into their cozy house, and ask their cook to serve some warmed stew and hot bread before demanding to know what she was doing here.
Avery poured Bergdis a glass of wine. “My Norsk is bad,” she said apologetically in that language. “But I think your son has none.”
Jakob startled; he was not aware his silence was so obvious amidst the hustle of getting his mother situated in his home.
“Mamma, your appearance has both pleased and surprised me. But I am at a loss for words.” Jakob accepted the glass of wine which Avery poured for him as well. “Please tell me what prompted you to do such a thing.”
Bergdis glanced at Avery. “Do you understand?”
She smiled and gave a little shrug. “A little. Jakob talks me after.”
Bergdis nodded and returned her attention to Jakob. “When you came to see us last summer, I was so impressed by all that you have done. You took a very bad situation and built a very successful life upon it.”
Jakob felt his cheeks warming. “Thank you, Mamma.”
“My son walks among kings.” She shook her head. “I never imagined such a thing.”
“I actually serve Her Majesty, Queen Catherine of Aragon now, as Avery does as her chief lady-in-waiting,” Jakob corrected. “But I do converse with King Henry on many occasions.”
“Jakob fights Henry in games,” Avery managed with a grin. “Jakob does not win and Henry is happy.”
Jakob laughed. “Yes, Mamma, I do allow the king to best me, though he is a formidable opponent and often wins by his own skill.”
Bergdis’ expression brightened. “Might I see some of those games?”
Jakob shrugged. “That depends on how long you stay.”
Bergdis looked uncertain. “I do not have my plans made,” she admitted. “It was enough of a new experience for me to come to you.”
“I am so happy that you did,” Jakob said. “But who is taking care of Johan?”
Bergdis shifted her gaze to Avery. “Johan saw how happy your wife has made you. Not long after you left us he decided to court one of the widows in Arendal.”
“Did Johan marry?” Avery asked. His wife was clearly following more of the conversation than he thought she could.
“Yes.” Bergdis grinned. “She has one daughter, Karin, and she helps Maris run the house. So now Johan does not need me, and I am freed from the responsibility.”
“A man always needs his mother.” Jakob regarded his aging mother with new eyes. “That is why I wrote my letters to you.”
Bergdis reached for his hand. “You know what I mean, Jakob. My tasks are finished. I do not have to work hard any longer.”
Jakob considered his mother’s hand, its blue veins and long, thin bones visible. “So you decided to board a ship.”
Bergdis laughed and waved her hand toward Avery. “Yes. This was Avery’s ship, and it was sailing to you. I thought to myself, if my son can travel all over the world, then I can too.”
“Johan—was he happy with this?” Avery asked.
“No. When I told him I was going to sail for London, he tried to stop me. But I reminded him that Jakob sailed away as a very young man, and that I could do so as an old woman.” She chuckled again. “Your father was not the only stubborn person in that house.”
“And here you are.” Jakob felt his throat thicken. “I was not certain I would ever see you again, Mamma.”
“I could not allow that, Jakob,” she murmured. “We have already missed so much, you and I.” She turned to Avery. “And I want to know this amazing woman you married.”
Avery smiled softly. “You are welcome here for long time.”
The thought occurred to Jakob that his mother might never return to Norway. He would ask Avery later if she thought the same thing—and what that meant to them as a couple.
“Yes, Mamma. You are welcome in our home for as long as you wish to remain.”
§ § §
Avery sighed and rested her naked body along his. Post coital bliss still thrummed through his core and he held her close, waiting for his heartrate to slow and his breath to return to a normal rhythm.
“Å min gud, I am your captive, wife,” he mumbled. “Helpless against your assaults.”
“I am the victim, Jakob.” Avery ran her palm over his chest. “You take me outside of myself, and I am afraid someday I might die of it.”
“Never.” He kissed her forehead. “I would not allow it.”
He heaved a contented sigh and spoke of the other thing which was on his mind. “I never imagined my mother would appear with your ship.”
“Nor did I!” Avery leaned up on an elbow and grinned at him. “What a happy surprise.”
“It is indeed.”
“And now we know about Johan. I am glad that he is not alone.” Avery’s brows pulled together. “Do you believe your mother felt pushed out of her home by his new wife?”
Jakob chuckled. “You remember that she hid my letters from my father for nearly ten years. My mother is indeed as stubborn as she claims.”
“I suppose it does take a strong woman to board a ship and sail to an unknown country, even if the ship is owned by her daughter-in-law, and her son lives at the destination.” Avery’s expression shifted from concern to curiosity. “Do you think she will ever go back?”
Jakob was always amazed that his wife was able to voice his own thoughts so accurately. “And if she does not?”
Avery smiled. “I would be happy to have her with us for the remainder of her days. As she said, you have missed so much already.”
Jakob was surprised. “You understood that?”
“Mostly I understood her mood. A few words here and there confirmed what I thought she might be saying.” Avery blew a sigh. “I will need to practice my Norsk. I did not anticipate ever speaking it again.”
“My mother also speaks Latin,” Jakob reminded her. “And I expect that she will learn English if she choo
ses to remain here.”
“We shall be fine.” Avery planted a kiss on his lips. “In the meantime, we do have you to translate for us when we are flummoxed.”
“Should I invite her to live with us now?” Jakob asked. “Or should I wait a bit?”
Avery considered that question for a moment. “I think you should tell her now that, once she has had a chance to experience our life here in the Tudor court, if she wishes to remain in our home she is very welcome to do so.”
That was wise advice. “That way, she is free to make either decision at a later date.”
Avery nodded. “Yes. And not be forced to decide now, and possibly regret it later.”
Jakob frowned. “What might she regret?”
Avery chuckled. “The amount of time we spend in service to the queen? The damp English weather? The crowded, dirty, and noisy conditions in London? Or even the stench of that rancid moat outside.”
“It is true that living here is nothing like living in Arendal,” he agreed. “But the weather here, though damp, is milder than Norway’s. It will go easier on her bones, I think.”
“Then it is settled.” Avery kissed him again, more slowly this time, before tucking her head under his chin.
Avery always laid on Jakob’s right side and he felt her warmth ease the ache in his thigh. He knew she did so purposefully.
Thank you, God, for this woman.
He smiled. And for bringing my mother safely to us.
Chapter Four
February 12, 1520
“I am as nervous as a schoolgirl,” Bergdis moaned. “Are you certain that I am properly dressed?”
“Yes, you look beautiful,” Jakob assured his mother. “Now come with us and meet our employer.”
“You mean meet the Queen of England,” she grumbled.
Jakob stepped outside his home and walked across the Tower yard with his mother on one arm and his wife on the other. He noticed the curious looks they garnered—some surreptitious and some obvious.
Inside the Tower they encountered Percival Bethington. The English knight’s expression shifted from frantically harried to relieved calm once he spied Jakob.