For the King. She lives in hope that the King will come to her. Kate, permitted at last to break her fast, found she had no appetite.
Breakfast over and done with, Aunt Nan led her ladies to enjoy the festivities. She was laughing about the victory of her champion and forgetting to put down a wager on him when a servant came with a message from the King. As she read, the colour fled from her cheeks leaving her ashen. When Kate moved towards her in concern, she shook her head.
“I have been summoned to the King’s council,” she said.
Her women gathered closer together; a few, like Kate, stepped closer to the Queen.
“Let me come.” Kate took her aunt’s arm. “I beg you.”
Aunt Nan shook her head. “In this I need only Meg. If you wish, you may return to my chambers and wait there. Otherwise, stay and make merry.” Under her breath, she said, “It may be the last chance today.”
With most of the women, Kate hurried to Aunt Nan’s chamber. The waiting seemed to go forever before her aunt came through the door. Without speaking, she hurried to the chair by the fireplace. There, she sat and lowered her head between her hands. Her face white and frightened, Meg stood behind her.
Nauseous despite her empty stomach, Kate swallowed back bile. She tried to catch Meg’s attention, hoping she might give her an answer to her question. When she didn’t look her way, Kate took the question to her aunt, “What happened?”
Aunt Nan raised dazed eyes. “The end has come. The end has come. God help me.”
Kate fell to her knees beside her aunt’s chair and clasped her cold hands. When Aunt Nan cracked with strained laughter, she tightened her hold. Do not let go. Do not let go. Exhausted after a night of little sleep, Kate fought for reality. To let go of her aunt’s hands would cast them both adrift, without comfort or help. But it was not Kate who let go; Aunt Nan removed her hands from Kate’s and sat back.
“For years they have called me a whore. Now they wish to name me that truly.” Aunt Nan’s index finger stroked the ruby broach at her breast. “Even the King, my husband.”
Kate leaned forward to hold her aunt’s free hand. “Whore? Whore? I do not understand.”
Her aunt cleared her throat before she spoke. “I am arrested, child.”
Kate gasped and a woman burst into noisy tears. Boneless, without substance or strength, Kate crumbled against her aunt’s chair.
Releasing Kate’s hand, Aunt Nan stood, gesturing angrily. “I do not need weeping women. Stop immediately or leave me.” She collapsed back on her chair, holding her head again. “Norris—can it be true? Have you really confessed to being my lover? I can believe it of Smeaton, but you? You have always been my good friend. A loyal, loving friend—more than I ever deserved—more than your master, the King.”
Kate struggled to comprehend her aunt’s murmured words through the haze of shock. “Adultery?” she got out at last. “Adultery?”
Aunt Nan turned to her and smiled with bitterness. “Yea, our good uncle of Norfolk spat it out while Cromwell smirked and lapped it up like a cat with cream. It did me no good to deny the charges.” Her white face became grave. “If you look out the door, you will see guards from the Tower have replaced the men who were there this morning. I am allowed my dinner, while they wait for the turning of the tide. Then they take me to the Tower.”
Her rapid heartbeats drummed loud in her ears. Kate swallowed the fear that threatened to engulf her. “Take me with you. I beseech you.”
Aunt Nan shook her head. “Sweetheart, we do not know what waits for me there. I do not wish you to take on a burden that may prove too heavy for you. You’re young, Kate. Mayhap too young to companion me on such a journey.”
Kate leaned her forehead on her aunt’s cold hand, which lay on the carved, wooden armrest. “I cannot see you go alone into imprisonment. You’d break my heart if you left me behind.”
Aunt Nan considered her sadly. “I doubt you know about breaking of hearts. Not really.”
She opened her mouth to deny this, but her aunt’s silent dejection gave her reason to pause. There was no good reason to tell her aunt about Francis and how it had been with her for months. All winter she had broken her heart believing she loved without hope. Now she was at the true beginning of her love story, with the fire burning bright, while for her aunt, the fire was now dead ash.
Aunt Nan stilled and her face became thoughtful. “But you are in my care. I don’t think I can leave you here with my enemies ready to destroy all my trappings as Queen. And the King… how can I trust him to care for your safety? His mind will be busy with doing what he wills with me.” She considered Kate again. “There’s no recourse then; you must come with me. I can rely on my brother to get word to your mother so she can arrange for you to go home in safety.”
Kate shook her head. Her temper flared. “I do not wish to go home, Aunt. I want to stay with you.”
Aunt Nan averted her face, her hand at her temple, before turning back to Kate. “You can come with me, but only until I work out a better solution for your safety. If my commands are still worth anything, Kate, then do as I say. If that means going home to your mother, so be it.”
Kate gathered and tossed clothes into a bag for her journey to the Tower, while Madge sat on the bed “I wish I could come,” her cousin said, her fingers at her mouth. “It feels strange that you will be with the Queen while I stay here.”
Kate swung around to her cousin. “Do you think Cromwell will want to question you, too?”
Madge paled and visibly swallowed. “God forbid! What do I say if he does?”
Kate returned to packing her bag. How many months ago had she asked the questions of Madge, not the other way around? How fast everything changed. Her last garment packed, she turned to her cousin. “Speak the truth,” she said with firmness. “That’s what the Queen would want and expect. We know she is a faithful wife to the King. What more can anyone say?”
Madge drew a long breath. “We know, but that doesn’t mean our words cannot be shaped for Cromwell’s vile purposes. He is skilled at that.”
Kate sat beside her cousin, her shoulders slumping. “Do you think the Queen is right—that they mean to kill her?”
“It seems that way,” Madge murmured, averting a face white with grief. She clasped Kate’s hand. “I tell myself that no Queen of England has ever been executed. Surely it will not happen to Queen Anne?”
Kate eyed Madge. “Just because it has not happened before does not mean it will not happen now.”
Madge reached into the pocket of her gown and drew out the book of shared poetry. “Take this with you.”
Kate flicked through its pages before turning back to Madge. “You trust me with this in the Tower?”
“I suspect you will have more need of it than I.” Madge smiled. “It hasn’t passed my notice that your attempts at poetry have improved in recent weeks. Why not continue your posies in the Tower? It will help to divert you in the days ahead and, I hope, give you means to find some solace.”
“Thank you.” Kate leaned across and kissed her cousin’s cheek. She put the book into the empty pocket of her gown. The other pocket stored her own journal. Now she had another reason for regret. She had shared this chamber with Madge for months and all that time she had never once told her about her private journal. Her cheeks heated as she remembered all the traitorous thoughts that she written down in recent days. “I will look after our book and return it when I see you next.”
At the loud knock on the door, both girls started. Alice, their maidservant, entered. “M’ladies, one of the King’s servants has come for Lady Katherine. The King commands you to his presence, M’lady.”
Her hand at her throat, Kate bounded off the bed. “Why would he want to see me?”
Madge reflected back her own fear and came to stand beside her. “'Tis a command, Kate.” She embraced her and then pushed her towards the door. “Go. Pray God, he sends for you because he wants to know the truth.”
> Grabbing her cloak, Kate joined the King’s servant. Refusing to answer any questions, he escorted her down the corridors of the palace, at last leading her through the King’s private chambers, taking her to a room she had never seen before. Treasures were everywhere. Clocks whirled away the seconds alongside astrolabes and other gold instruments.
The King was alone, bespectacled, seated and writing at his desk, the curtains closed upon the end of day. A draught played with the lit tapers that cast dancing shadows on his pale skin. The pate of his head was bald like a monk, greying hair encircled the back of his skull from above his ear. His trappings of royalty discarded, he seemed simply an ageing, tired and ill man.
She curtseyed at the door, and he beckoned to her. She treaded closer and curtseyed again, this time staying on her knees.
Taking off his glasses, he squinted at her and gestured with impatience. “Get up and sit.” He pointed to a stool and waited until she perched herself on its edge. “They tell me you go with the Queen to the Tower?” He thrust his face towards her. “Is this true? Speak, Kate.”
She stood. She had been at court for five months, and in all that time, he had barely acknowledged her, and only the once had he called her by name. How long ago that seemed. Then she was a different person, an innocent cast into a dark labyrinth. Time had rendered it less dark, but only for the light to reveal fearful paths of hate, jealousy and suspicion. She was no longer the innocent girl who had arrived at court five months ago. How could she remain innocent walking and surmounting paths darkened by hatred? The man before her seemed blinded to the fact that he was responsible for so many of these paths.
He jerked back in annoyance and gestured to the empty stool. “Don’t just stand there. Sit down, sit down, I said. And I asked you a question. God’s blood, I am your King. Answer me. Now.”
She gingerly sat back on the edge of the stool. Her first moment of terror almost rendered her speechless, but she took hold of it and pushed it down. How she had wanted to speak to him after her aunt lost her son. Now, she had that opportunity. Still frightened, she refused to give in to her fears. Not now. “Aye, I go with the Queen. She’s my aunt, sire. How can you expect otherwise?”
He glowered at her. “Your aunt? And what of your loyalty to me, your King? What if I told you your aunt bedded one hundred men or more—and worse than this, too?”
For a several heartbeats, she seemed looking into her own blue eyes. Her thoughts tumbled in sudden confusion, aware she confronted a suffering man who warred with himself. A man without peace. She swallowed, and gathered back her wits and her courage. “Sire, you are my King, and I owe you my allegiance. But I cannot forget that Aunt Nan is of my blood, and I’m bound to her. My place is with her. As for the hundred men, that is a lie.”
His face reddening with fury, he knocked over an inkwell. The black ink spilled over a half-written parchment. “God’s oath! See what you made me do!”
She read some of the words on the parchment.
Medicine for the Pestilence
Take one handful of marigolds, a handful of sorel, a handful of burnett, a handful of featherfew, half a handful rue, and a quantity of dragons…
The King folded the parchment over the ink spill to soak it up, and Kate’s temper threatened to spill over, too. How dare he! Aunt Nan’s life left in ruins while he writes down recipes? What kind of man is this? Does he not have a heart?
Her anger lighting a fire under her courage, she lifted her chin. “You cannot blame me for your anger—just as you cannot accuse the Queen of adultery or betrayal.” She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry.
Pushing away the parchment, he turned to her eyes that seemed to flame. “You dare speak so to your King?”
Kate cast her last remnant of caution to the wind. “I dare speak so to my father.”
Yes—he had fathered her. And disowned her. Yet something stirred in her heart. He seemed so ill, with lines of pain etched on his face. Was it pity that tugged at her? Surely it wasn’t pity? Whatever it was, it combated her hatred and left it blunt. “Why is my aunt arrested? You must know her heart, that she would never betray you. She loves you, sire.”
The King sat back then as if taking in her measure, his mouth twisting in what seemed an effort to smile. “You’re brave.” He began to rifle through papers on his desk and moved a sheet next to his seal before raising his face. “Why should I be surprised? Nan and your mother both have stout hearts. And you’re my blood, after all.” Deep lines scored his brow as he scowled. “Who are you to judge? Do you know how it goes with me? You say my wife has not betrayed me? What of Norris? ‘Dead men’s shoes,’ she said to him. That he waited for dead men’s shoes. Aye, my shoes. She has placed England on a road to diminish my power, the power of a crowned King, one placed by God to be his mouthpiece. You say she has not betrayed me or England? You know nothing.”
Kate didn’t understand how England involved the arrest of her aunt, but Henry Norris was a different matter. “Fie! For shame. Why put weight upon Norris’s words to my aunt and hers to him? Do you not know how the last months have been for her? She still grieves for the loss of the babe. Can you not pity her?”
His barren, hopeless eyes seemed to belong to a man on the edge of madness. “Pity her? I cannot afford to pity her. She has failed me, failed England.” His hands shaking, he opened one of the drawers to an exquisite wooden writing box and pulled out a thick wad of unused parchment sheets.
Kate looked down at the box, caught by its beauty. Elaborate gold decoration gleamed in candlelight—arrow shafts and fleurs-de-lys around an H and K enclosed in a triangle; the small drawer of quills pulled out on one side. Mars and Venus stood side by side, love and hate. Kate fought back tears, listening to the King.
“She failed me like my first wife.” He started and dropped the papers. “I thought of Katherine as my wife for many years.” He frowned. “I am not a man like any man, yet they both, in the end, tried to make me so. They wanted me a man, not a King.”
“But you are a man,” Kate blustered in bewilderment.
“Aye a man, but also a King. Kate, God put me here to reign. It is my divine right and sacred duty. None can put that at risk. I cannot risk civil war. If it means doing what I must, I will.”
She contemplated him while clock hands moved and marked the passing of time. Is he sick or simply mad? Perhaps both. Pity stirred her heart again and left her confused. Quietly she asked, “What are you planning to do?”
He straightened in his chair, a man turned into steel. “What if I command you not to go with the Queen?”
Kate tightened and re-knotted her girdle. She started, her heart swelling. Whenever her aunt was thinking, her beautiful hands would do the exactly the same. Kate had now taken the gesture for her own. “You are my King. My aunt has taught me that I must obey you no matter what you ask.” Desperate and afraid, her heart beat so fast that her head swum with dizziness. “But make that command and I will hate you.”
The King pointed to the window. A thrush chirped its evening song. “In that direction is the Tower. If you go there, you are likely to hate me in any case.” He firmed his mouth. “Be it on your own head. Do what you wish, but never say I did not warn you.”
20
SEEKING COMFORT ON HER RETURN from seeing the King, Kate wrote in her journal something her mother had once said to her:
All things must come to an end—all things but love.
Her stomach now growling with emptiness, Kate waited for her aunt to finish her dinner so she could ask for release to eat too. But with barely a warning, the Duke of Norfolk entered the Queen’s chambers with other members of the council. Hanging back at the door was Cromwell.
Her heart in her throat, Kate moved instinctively towards Aunt Nan when she pushed against the table and stood with her hands holding on for support.
“Good day, Uncle,” she said softly. As if ignoring Cromwell, she nodded to the other men. “My Lords. Tell me, is it time?”<
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The Duke stepped forward, bowed and then straightened again. “My Grace, we come on the King’s command to conduct you to the Tower, there to abide during His Highness’ pleasure.”
Aunt Nan paled and swayed. Swallowing, she lifted her chin. “If that be the King’s, my husband’s, desire, I am ready to obey.”
“Make yourself ready,” the Duke said. “The tide waits for no man—or woman.” He gestured towards the Queen’s women gathered by the window, the ruby on his signet ring flashing in a sudden beam of sunlight “You may choose two of your ladies to accompany you. With them, Lady Boleyn and Mrs. Cosyns will also attend to your needs.”
Aunt Nan started. “My Lady Boleyn and Mrs. Cosyns?”
Aunt Boleyn and Mrs. Coysns? Kate shook her head. Jesu’, why? They detest Aunt Nan. Aunt Boleyn has never forgiven her about Madge. They must be Cromwell’s spies.
Aunt Nan drew a deep breath and bowed her head. “Be it as the King commands.”
The bells rang out the second hour when they escorted Aunt Nan to the waiting barge, bare of ceremonial trappings. Kate padded after her aunt in a haze of terror, a terror that made everything seem a dream. A terror that dimmed the bright spring day.
Her aunt stopped, speaking as if to herself. “Not even three years.” She took Lady Meg’s hand. “Do you remember when we travelled this way? How different it was then. Do you remember, Meg, the dragon on the royal barge? How cleverly it hid the men who caused it look like it was breathing fire. It frightened the barges accompanying us, but not me.” She laughed softly, lifted her skirts and stepped down to take her seat. “I had never been so happy as on that day.” Sunlight shimmered on the water that glinted and sparkled like diamonds. “I will always remember walking on paths strewn, nay, carpeted, with rose petals and the voices lifted up in song. Now it has come to this.”
The Light in the Labyrinth Page 21