The Devil's Diadem

by Sara Douglass

  ‘I am glad to see you smile again, Maeb,’ Saint-Valery said. ‘Will you forgive me enough to talk with me again?’

  I was happy enough to do so, for in my amusement I had put aside all my anger and embarrassment. Thus, as the meal progressed, we chatted of this and that, Saint-Valery pointing out nobles and retainers at the tables and telling me a little of each.

  ‘Your lord has put on a goodly feast for his king,’ Saint-Valery said as the feast drew toward its final dishes. ‘He has done himself proud in Edmond’s eyes.’

  ‘And his household had little enough time in which to do so,’ I said. I did not particularly like the earl, from my brief encounters with him, but I was happy enough to bolster the regard of his household.

  ‘It is all a great flurry,’ Saint-Valery said. ‘One moment we were happy in court at Edmond’s palace at Westminster, the next we are fleeing eastward to Oxeneford, detouring to collect the earl’s family. What can be the matter do you think? It must be dire news.’

  I had by this stage had a great amount of the spiced wine to drink, and its headiness had fuzzed my mind.

  But not enough to endanger my head by babbling the secrets I had heard that day in the solar.

  ‘It is terrible news, I have heard, my lord.’

  ‘Yes?’ he said, leaning a little closer. Beside me, I felt Evelyn stiffen.

  ‘Aye,’ I said. ‘I have heard …’ I paused, drawing out the moment, ‘… I have heard that the very dryads from the woods threaten the king! They rustle their leaves, and the king grows anxious!’

  Saint-Valery chuckled. ‘You have done well, Mistress Maeb. No doubt you know I shall be reporting thus to Edmond. I —’

  ‘Mistress Maeb,’ said the Earl of Pengraic’s voice, and a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. ‘I would speak with you privately if I might.’

  My stomach fell away. I looked up at the earl’s face. It was impassive, but I thought I saw anger in his eyes.

  Sweet Jesu, what had I done so wrong he needed to single me out like this?

  I murmured a politeness to Saint-Valery, then rose and walked after the earl out of the hall.

  I could feel the eyes following me as I went.

  Pengraic led me to a quiet corner by the staircase, then turned to me.

  ‘What did Saint-Valery speak with you about?’ he said.

  ‘We chatted of the court, and he pointed out the nobles to me, and —’

  ‘Did he ask about the meeting in the solar?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said that the king had learned the dryads in the forests threatened to shake their leaves at him, and thus he fled Westminster.’

  Foolishly, I thought he would laugh at my wit as had Saint-Valery.

  ‘What do you know of the dryads in the woods?’ the earl snapped.

  ‘I am sorry, my lord,’ I stuttered, ‘I only thought to deflect Saint-Valery’s interest.’

  The earl simply stared at me.

  ‘I am sorry, my lord,’ I repeated, and hung my head. It was aching now from all the excitement and the wine, and all I wanted was to escape everyone and flee back to my chamber.

  ‘You think too much of yourself, Maeb.’

  I bit my lip. I did not know what to say.

  He sighed, and I found the courage to look at him again.

  The earl’s face had lost all its anger and now only looked tired. I realised that he, as the king and everyone who had arrived with them, had been riding for a full day and night and must be exhausted.

  ‘Maeb, my lady wife will need all your love and care on your journey to Pengraic. She is not well with this child.’

  ‘I know, my lord. She shall have it. I care for her greatly.’

  He studied me, then gave a small nod. ‘I am very much afraid the world shall be a dark place for many months to come.’

  I was feeling ever more uncomfortable, mainly because I had not thought to see the earl this vulnerable — he had always been so proud and strong and terrible to me — and that vulnerability frightened me.

  ‘Maeb, remember this, and remember it well. Every word spoken is carried by the wind to each corner of this mortal earth, and to the ears of God and the Devil. Remember it.’

  ‘I will, my lord.’

  In my tiredness I could not grasp what he meant, nor could I foretell that my utter failure to remember his words in time to come would make a wreck and a mockery of my entire world.

  Just then Evelyn appeared, pausing a few steps away.

  The earl nodded to her, then he walked toward the hall.

  Before he had gone too far, I called out to him. ‘My lord? I have said nothing to Saint-Valery, nor anyone else. Truly.’

  He looked at me a long moment. ‘I know that,’ he said, then he walked off.

  I put a hand to my head. ‘Evelyn, I think I need to go to bed. Is it seemly that I leave the feast now?’

  She smiled and came close, taking my arm. ‘Yes. No one will take offence. Come now, I have had enough myself, and I think those at high table are making murmurs about their beds, too. Yvette will look after our lady and we will make sure Alice and her sister and the boys find their beds, and then we will sleep.’

  Much later I lay in the bed I shared with Evelyn, unable to sleep even though my head throbbed and my limbs ached with weariness. My mind could not stop, revisiting everything I had seen and heard and done this day.

  After a while I felt Evelyn’s hand on my arm. ‘You did well today, Maeb. I do not know what you heard in the solar, but if all that wine Saint-Valery pressed on you did not loosen your tongue, then little else but torture will … and I do not think you need worry about that in our company.’

  I chuckled. ‘Not even from the earl?’

  Evelyn laughed softly. ‘I think he might be too tired, but maybe next week, when he is recovered …’

  ‘Evelyn … may I ask something of your life?’

  ‘Of course. I have little to hide.’

  ‘Are you wed? I was wondering this evening, as we walked into the hall …’

  ‘And you wondered if I could have my pick of all the men?’ Evelyn laughed again. ‘Maybe so, but I have little interest. Yes, I was wed, but my husband died within a year of our marriage and eventually I took service with my lady. I have a daughter from that marriage, fourteen summers this year.’

  ‘Truly? Where is she now?’

  ‘In service to the household of Sir Roger de Tosny at Redmeleie, north of Glowecestre.’

  I considered her words — thinking Evelyn would be a good mother and that she must miss her daughter. ‘You do not wish to wed again?’

  She took a long time answering, and I wondered if she had fallen asleep or if perchance I had hit on the little she did want to hide.

  ‘I will tell you this, Maeb, not only because I like you, but also because you will hear of it soon enough from someone else. I was only surprised Saint-Valery did not speak of it to you — but then I suppose he had his reasons to keep silent. I also tell you of this because of the way Edmond looked at you this morning. When you fell from your courtesy … by the Blessed Virgin, Maeb, you did not see him almost fall himself in his rush to aid you!’

  She paused. ‘I did long for another man once, and lived for those hours I spent in his arms, but there was no question of marriage. Maeb, I was the king’s lover for one summer. I loved him with every breath I took, but … his whims burn furious and then fade fast. Many others have replaced me in his bed since that summer and my own passion for him has long since died. It was a summer’s fancy only. He looks upon me kindly now, but I swear he has forgot that once he took me to his bed. Now, no, I have little interest in finding myself another husband. I have a secure home with the countess, and after Edmond …’

  I was struck dumb. I had not expected this confession.

  ‘And now he wants you, Maeb. But he will not touch you, not yet. Not while you remain unwed — that is his idea of courtesy.’ She gave a
brief, soft laugh. ‘But if ever you do wed, my sweet, and return to court, beware of his interest. He has marked you well. Saint-Valery was at your side this evening for good reason and it had little to do with whether or not you prattled about what you heard in the solar. Edmond wants to know you better, and the only way he can do that for the moment is through Saint-Valery. Even now Saint-Valery will be at the king’s side, whispering quietly in his ear. Be careful, Maeb. Be very, very careful.’

  Chapter Seven

  The next day passed in a blur of activity as the household prepared to leave. I think both the earl (indeed, all three of them) and the king were greatly impatient with this necessary delay, but they bore it well, and spent the best part of the day out hunting for venison with many of their entourage, including Stephen and Saint-Valery. I spent my time between the children’s chamber and the solar, at one moment helping Evelyn and the nurse pack for the children (and keeping the younger ones from under everyone else’s feet), at the next hurrying to Mistress Yvette’s impatient call that I aid her and the countess. In other parts of the house, servants packed plate and linens, barrels of wine and salted meats, tapestries and hangings.

  I had not realised so much of the earl’s house travelled back and forth between Pengraic Castle and Rosseley.

  ‘Normally,’ Evelyn remarked to me at one point during the day, ‘much of the household would be sent on ahead of the earl and his family, to be waiting for them at the castle. But now …’ She shrugged, and moved back to folding linens and ribbons.

  I was glad to be so busy with the packing, and running this way and that.

  My mind continued to spin with all that had happened yesterday. I had met a king, and sat in on a privy meeting between him and three of his highest nobles. I had heard of great terror approaching, and yet could speak of it to no one. I had attended a great feast of court and had the king’s own man sit next to me.

  I had caught a king’s eye.

  As had, once, Evelyn.

  I found it difficult to reconcile all of this, and what it might mean for my future. Of everything to be afraid of, it was Edmond’s interest which truly unsettled me. His interest would be a passing fancy, little else, and yet it might well ruin my life. I would be discarded as had Evelyn, and as had many others. My only security in life at present was my place within the Pengraic household. There was nothing else. My only future security would be a good marriage to a man with enough estates to ensure I would not lack, through any circumstance. Without that marriage I was truly most vulnerable.

  Yet such a marriage rested only on Pengraic’s tenuous goodwill, for I had no dowry to attract interest. I could do nothing to threaten that goodwill if I wanted any future security in life. Pengraic had warned me against his son Stephen. What did he think now, knowing of the king’s interest? That I had deliberately aimed my ambitions higher than Stephen?

  I worried and fretted all through the day. News of the plague slipped into the dim recesses of my mind. It was Edmond’s interest that represented my most immediate threat.

  Despite what Lady Adelie had said about Pengraic, I could not wait to reach the castle within the Welsh Marches.

  The king would be far distant then, and I could relax.

  We would be leaving very early the next morning. Lady Adelie had said to me that the first two days would be hard riding, but then, having left behind the king and Pengraic with the greater part of their retinues at Oxeneford, we could travel in more leisurely a fashion to our destination. It was late in the night, and Evelyn and I were readying ourselves for sleep (there had been no feast tonight; merely grabbed food from a platter a servant had brought round), when Evelyn turned abruptly to reach for a shoe she had left to one side of the stool.

  Suddenly she cried out in pain, both hands reaching for her back.

  ‘Evelyn! What has happened?’

  She was white and biting her lips. ‘I have wrenched my back, Maeb. Oh, such stupidity! Why could I not have been more careful? And tomorrow we must travel. With this!’

  I helped her to bed, Evelyn again crying out with pain as she lowered herself down. I wrapped a shawl about my chemise, and went down to the kitchens to get her a warm poultice for her back.

  When finally I, too, went to bed, I cuddled up close to Evelyn, desperately tired, but not able to sleep. I wished for those long, calm, bright days of my early days at Rosseley, and wondered if they would ever come again.

  We rose early the next day. Well, I rose, but Evelyn managed to get to her feet only with the most heartbreaking cries of pain. Her back was seized and swollen and every movement hurt. After I helped her to dress I left her sitting mournfully in the children’s chamber, watching as the nurse and Alice and Emmett managed to dress the children.

  I went to aid Mistress Yvette get the countess ready. She was up, already in her linen chemise with Mistress Yvette helping her into her kirtle. The earl was with her, too, and I gave him a brief glance and quick dip of courtesy as I passed.

  I could not look at his face.

  ‘Where is Evelyn?’ said the countess.

  ‘She wrenched her back badly last night, my lady. Forgive her not attending you this morning. She is in great pain.’

  ‘Oh, poor Evelyn!’ Lady Adelie said. ‘My lord, she will need to join me in my travelling cart. She cannot ride.’

  Pengraic belted his tunic, then reached for his sword belt. ‘Your cart is already overladen, madam. The nurse and the two younger children will need space by your side, as will Mistress Yvette, who wobbles off any horse that goes beyond a walk.’

  I kept my face downcast, amused by the mental image of Mistress Yvette ‘wobbling’ off her horse.

  ‘Now we must pack Evelyn in there some place.’ The earl paused. ‘Mistress Maeb, please tell me you do not require space atop the cart as well. The lighter it keeps, the faster it shall travel.’

  ‘I can ride well enough, my lord,’ I said, finally looking at him. He looked tired and irritated, but I think that was so much his normal expression I thought little enough of it.

  ‘By what do you mean “well enough”?’ he said.

  ‘I learned to ride on my father’s courser,’ I said. ‘The horse was old, but still of uncertain temper. Few managed him — my father and I alone.’

  The earl stared, then gave a nod. ‘Well, we shall see. The saints alone know what horses are available. I will need to speak to Ludo. Madam,’ he continued, his attention now given back to his wife, ‘I will break my fast below. I need to oversee preparations. Be ready soon. It will be a long day’s journeying for us, and I cannot wait on your prayers.’

  ‘My lord,’ Lady Adelie said, and the earl left the solar.

  She sighed, and turned back to Mistress Yvette. ‘Fetch me some bread and cheese, Yvette, and a mug of small beer. We can pray well enough when we are lurching along the road, and I do not wish to keep my lord awaiting. Maeb, how do the children?’

  By the time I returned to the children’s chamber, they had all vanished to the courtyard below, and only the nurse remained, gathering a few last items.

  ‘Evelyn is waiting in the cart below,’ she said. ‘One of the servants carried her down the stairs. Fetch whatever you need, Maeb, and join us below.’

  Suppressing a flare of excitement in my belly, I went to the small chamber Evelyn and I had shared, wrapped my mantle about my shoulders, picked up my bag of possessions and hurried down the stairs.

  The courtyard was a mass of movement, cantankerous voices, nervous hooves slipping across cobbles and the excited barking of dogs. The larger part of the entourage that the king and the earls had brought with them was waiting on the road beyond, but the courtyard space was still crowded enough with men and carts and horses.

  I stood undecided, not knowing what to do or where to turn, when the earl, who had been speaking to Ludo, his Master of Horse, turned and saw me. He said something to Ludo, and the man hurried over to me.

  ‘Saints save me, girl,’ Ludo said, his
creased face even more deeply lined than usual on this morning, ‘I pray you spoke truth when you said you could manage a horse. Here, man, take this bag and set it into one of the carts — into that of my lady’s, if there be any room left.’

  A groom appeared beside me, and I relinquished my bag. ‘This is the one mount I have available that might be suitable for you,’ Ludo continued, ‘and I value her too highly to allow her to be wasted on a doltish rider.’

  There was a clatter of hooves, and another groom led over a lovely grey mare, all fine boned and dark eyed and flagged of tail. She was a palfrey, and thus an expensive horse — of far more worth than my father’s courser had been.

  I felt the first needle of worry. What if I allowed her to run away from me and she foundered in a ditch?

  ‘I need to see you ride her first,’ said Ludo. ‘If I am not satisfied, you will need to walk behind the carts, unless a place is found for you within them. Come, we will go to the orchard. There is space there for me to see you ride Dulcette, yet fence enough to stop the mare should she bolt.’

  He led Dulcette to a mounting block. I walked over, trying not to notice that the earl was now standing, arms folded, watching, and mounted with Ludo’s help. Once I had settled my skirts and rested my feet in the stirrups, Ludo let me take up the reins, and, my heart in my mouth, I gave Dulcette’s flanks a little press with my legs.

  She responded immediately. She had spirit and I knew at once that she was unnerved by this new rider upon her and that all she wanted was to dash. I held the reins firmly, and guided her through the mass of people and horses toward the orchard.

  The mare’s ears kept flicking back toward me, and I could literally feel her trying to decide if she liked me or not — her muscles were bunched tight under the saddle.

  I did not care if she liked me. All I asked was for her to respect me enough to obey me.

  We reached the orchard and some space and quiet. My heart thudding, I gave Dulcette another press with my legs and clicked my tongue. She tried instantly to run away with me, as I had thought she would, but I pulled her back and spoke disapprovingly to her, warning her with my voice.