The servants were now laying out the food before us and passing the water basin around. My father began devouring his meal with the same eagerness he had shown for the wine, dipping his meat directly into the salt dish, an action for which Lady Beatrice would have surely chided me. William attempted to imitate him, but he left most of the salt strewn across the table.
“William,” the queen started to say, but her husband cut her off.
“You man, take care of that!” he ordered one of the servants, who immediately disposed of the excess salt.
“Perhaps you wish to inform us of the reason you have called this meeting,” Mother offered, having clearly determined that a lesson in table manners was not going to be possible.
“Ah, yes! Children, I have been setting all my affairs in order before my departure to our lands across the Channel. The three of you will remain here, and your mother and I are intent that this time should not be idly spent. You have heard, of course, that the archbishop is due to join you here and take over as your guardian for the coming months. In addition, William, you are to begin your preparations for the knighthood. I have spoken with my chief groom, Herbert, and he is to conduct riding lessons for you starting next week. You will also be taught how to handle a sword, and with any luck spend some time on archery as well.”
“Lord king, are you sure that the time is right? Our son is still quite young,” Mother said.
“Woman, when I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Did you think I would not notice how you have slipped that miscreant Anselm into my own house when I was not aware?”
“I intended no such thing,” she said calmly but deliberately, her face now as red with anger as her husband’s was with heat.
“And yet you know that he has been a continual adversary of mine since first I came to the throne, seeking to strip me of my God-given authority at every turn!”
“Please, dear, the wine has made you agitated.”
“Do I not have some excuse when my place is being usurped?” he shouted at her.
“My lord, the children . . .”
The king shot a look in our direction and saw that both William and I were upset. This seemed to affect him, and he made a clear effort to recover serenity.
“Children,” he started again in a more friendly tone, “The archbishop is indeed a great teacher of literature and matters of Scripture, but you must exercise caution in this case and not accept everything you hear. Anselm of Bec may make great claims to piety, but in truth he loves most that which exalts himself, and he will pour honeyed words into your ears. He would undoubtedly paint me as the worst of sinners in your eyes, but I assure you that if there is any blame to be had, it lies in his corner, or better yet with his master in Rome.”
He returned to the food in front of him and the rest of us followed his lead, my mother having apparently decided that as much as she loved and respected the archbishop, now was not the proper time to leap to his defense. Although I was well aware of my royal parents’ disputes, they did not often display them so clearly before our young eyes and ears. I felt quite shaken, and I could tell from a sideways glance at William that he was likewise troubled.
“Now to the other matters at hand,” the king finally said. “The Countess of Perche has written expressing her desire to stop over in Westminster on her way north to stay with Lady Warwick, and I am quite disposed to grant her request. Do you have any objections, my dear?”
“None whatsoever. We shall make ready for her visit,” the queen replied.
I was certain that this answer showed only part of my mother’s true feelings, for the Countess of Perche, Mathilda fitz Roy, was one of the king’s many children by other women. As this particular dalliance happened before my parents’ own marriage, the blade did not pierce so deep as it might have, but it nevertheless proved that the queen was not at that point, nor would she ever be, the sole mistress of her husband’s affections.
“Also, I wanted to make known to you, William, as it will affect you most of all, that the French king’s son, Louis, who will any day now take the throne, has declared that he will throw his support behind that usurper, William Clito, my brother Robert’s son, to become Duke of Normandy. It seems that as I have already maintained the land of Normandy for myself and my descendants, the French now seek every opportunity to sow discord and rebellion in the hope of reclaiming that which was hard won by our ancient father, Rollo. Rest assured, my son, I have no intention of allowing them to succeed, but you must be made aware of these things, for some day you may very well find yourself in the middle of them.”
“I am not worried, Father,” William replied. “When you ride into battle, you will defeat the false William just like his father.”
“Well spoken, my son. That is just what I intend to do. When you are old enough, I shall be proud to see you take your place by my side as we make war against the Franks and all their malicious allies.”
I sensed that this was the moment at which I might broach the subject of the German king’s offer of marriage without being forced to reveal the original source of my information.
“Father,” I said with all the courage I could muster, “I have heard talk that you may seek to counter the French through a marriage alliance. Are these rumors true?”
“Who told you such a thing?” my mother asked. “Was it one of my ladies? I must command them not to spread such foolish gossip.” She looked in the direction of the king. “You have no intention of arranging a marriage for Maud now, do you?”
My father declined to answer her directly, but after taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he instead turned to me.
“Maud, you are the firstborn child of the king of England and Normandy. With that comes a duty both to your sovereign and to your country. Marriage is the path by which opposing nations may be knit together in a bond of mutual protection. The fiercest threat to our territories comes from the king of France, and we must do whatever we can to counter him. I may as well tell you that I have indeed begun the process of seeking the most esteemed applicants for your hand, those who will play the role of husband to you in a proper manner and help to maintain our possessions for future generations. You must understand how essential this is.”
“Yes, but surely Maud is a bit young to be formally betrothed. She is not yet in her eighth year,” the queen protested.
“Marriages have been settled at far younger ages than that, and in any case he will not attempt to consummate the match until she is full grown.”
“He? So you already have a suitor in mind?” The concern in my mother’s voice was rising.
“Well, yes, if you must know, I have entertained some early offers, one of which seems quite acceptable.”
“Why have you not told me of this before now?”
“Because—and do not hate me for this—I was quite certain that the man in question would not be to your liking, though I am sure he is as good a choice as we will be able to find.”
“Who is it? Surely not an Italian!”
“Italian? Ha! I might as well give my daughter to one of the Saracens! In fact, it is Henry, king of the Germans. I have already spoken with one of his ambassadors, and intend to receive a larger party upon our arrival in Rouen.”
My mother was clearly stunned by this latest revelation, and her manner became contentious.
“Am I to understand that you mean to betroth our daughter to a man whose father was the shame of Christendom and who now seems ready to follow in his footsteps?”
“The very same, though I do declare, you choose your words quite harshly. After all, it is only out of fear for his own level of influence in this realm that the pope has so far declined to excommunicate me.”
“This is no laughing matter!” my mother protested. “If you are to strip away my daughter from my side before her time has come, at least allow me the consolation of knowing that she goes to a good house in which the will of the Lord is honored. You owe that to your daughter if not to
me.”
“My lady, you must think me no better than one of the heathen. I tell you, the will of the Lord will indeed be honored by such an alliance, assuming that it does take place, for it will ensure the future security of this kingdom. If ever the fat king in Paris decides to test his luck against us in battle, we shall have the strength of the empire on our side.”
“From what I can tell, the strength of the empire is barely sufficient to keep out the Wends,” she said to herself as much as to him.
“I think in time you will come to think better of him. Of course, this is all still conjecture until an agreement is signed,” he added, providing small comfort for the queen’s nerves. “Never fear, my daughter! I will find you a husband who will treat you properly and provide for this kingdom the alliance it requires. It is a matter of necessity.”
“I will do as you say, Father.” Even as I said them, the words seemed to stick in my throat.
“You have always been my good girl, and you always will be,” he concluded. “Well, that’s supper finished. William, come with me and I will show you something.”
My father led him out of the room toward whatever new adventure awaited them, leaving Mother and me to consider all that had taken place. Neither of us spoke a word as the servants silently removed the articles from the table.
“Do you wish for me to call Lady Beatrice, my queen?” Aubigny inquired.
“No, thank you, I shall see to the princess myself.”
“As you wish.”
My mother rose and walked around the table to where I sat, then bent down and pulled me into a long embrace in which neither of us spoke for some time. Finally she pulled back and looked me in the eye.
“Maud, you must never be afraid. Nothing has been decided yet, but even if this is the path the king chooses for you, you will not be alone. Our beloved Savior and the Virgin Mary will watch over you with every step you take.”
She kissed my brow and then led me by the hand back to the nursery. There was an odd firmness in her grip, an outward sign of her desire not to lose me. For my own part, I held on equally tight, wanting to believe that whatever future God decreed for me would be more agreeable than the one I now feared.
With only a few days remaining until their departure, my brother and I were eager to spend more time in the company of the king’s lads, although, being much younger, I was somewhat nervous in their presence. Lady Beatrice arranged for William to join the young men in the inner ward for some sport, and I was permitted to go along, though I would not take part in their game.
We found the three of them on that afternoon kicking a ball back and forth while they waited for us. Stephen seemed to be the most skilled, despite his slightly inferior size. Those simply passing by darted this way and that to avoid any errant kicks. At length the lads became aware of our presence and briefly halted their sport.
“Hello there, William!” Brian greeted him. “Do you fancy trying your hand at this?”
“Best not let him get anywhere near Stephen. With that degree of force, he’s likely to get walloped,” said Robert.
“I’m not going to knock him over!” Stephen argued. “You are more likely to do that since you lack the ability to hit your target.”
“I beg your pardon, I do not! You should see how I do when I get in a proper space. This is too restrictive.”
“Now that’s a fine excuse! This was your idea.”
Brian took that opportunity to mention to the gentlemen that, “None of this is particularly helpful,” and that “I am sure there is no great danger in young master William taking part.”
“Have you ever kicked a ball before, William?” Robert asked.
“Not one like this.”
“Well, then it is time that you learned. Come, stand over here.”
I watched as William made his way to the assigned spot in the dirt. Our elder brother placed the ball on the ground and demonstrated the motion with which it was to be struck.
“You hit it like so, right with the front of your boot, or you will not get the necessary force and it will trail off to the right or left.”
The three men then stepped back and let the boy have a try. He made contact and sent the ball in Brian’s direction. It was not a superior kick, but it did show some strength.
“Good! Now try it again,” Brian instructed him, pushing the ball back toward him.
William tried again, this time sending it toward Stephen. With each successive kick, he grew better. Soon the four of them were sending the ball back and forth. Even as my brother seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, I felt quite excluded, standing to the side in my dress, unable to do much but retrieve the ball when it flew in my direction.
“I don’t know how long we should keep at this. Soon he’ll have us all beat,” Robert declared.
It was at that moment that William sent the ball toward Stephen. But Stephen was distracted and thus not ready when the ball arrived, and it rushed past him in my direction.
“Here, give it to me,” Stephen said, walking toward me as the ball continued to hop and roll across the ground.
I chose to ignore him and instead run at the ball and kick it. I took a few strides toward the ball and hit it as hard as I could with my right foot. I still remember the look of surprise on Stephen’s face, as he had to bend low to avoid it. The ball was flying through the air, but it was not going in the direction of the others. Instead to my dismay, it was moving to the right and about to come into contact with the chicken coop. All five of us watched as the ball landed in the middle of a flock of hens, all of them leaping in different directions, crashing into one another, and sending a momentary cloud of feathers into the air. A few of them actually took flight and made it over the short fence and into the yard, where several ladies of court, who had been taking in the afternoon delights of such a manly display, now let out great screams more fit for a savage wolf than a few startled chickens.
The three lads went into action and tried their best to herd the hens, though they found it a difficult task. I, on the other hand, was feeling quite foolish, so much so that before any of the men returned their attention to me, I slipped into the palace and made my way back to the nursery, where I intended to inform Lady Beatrice that I suddenly had a great desire to help with her afternoon duties. It would be many years before I again had the courage to kick a ball, and what became of the one I sent to join the chickens, I shall never know.
All was now ready for the king’s departure. The ships were loaded with possessions to be brought over water to Normandy. So many objects were placed in the hull of each ship that it was hard to believe they would stay afloat. Next, Herbert and the rest of the king’s grooms boarded the horses, always a tiresome endeavor. The animals seemed to rue the experience, uncertain of their footing and wishing very much to be back on shore.
For such an occasion, the entire royal court dressed in its grandest attire and took the path down to the river to bid the travelers farewell. Of course, half of them would be accompanying the king on his travels, but the remainder would depart for their own lands scattered throughout England. A small company of ambassadors, merchants, and simple travelers in need of passage to Normandy would also be joining the passage, the latter for a price. Bishop Roger of Salisbury invoked the blessing of God upon the royal voyage. The king seemed to grow weary as the supplications continued to pour forth, so eager was he to make for open sea. I could see the young men cast longing glances at the noble daughters who would now be placed once again under their fathers’ lock and key.
At last the moment arrived. My father shook hands with the bishop and bid him keep all things in order during his absence. He said a few brief words to the members of the king’s council. He embraced William and charged him to apply himself to his training, following this with the standard pat on the head. For me there was a tap on the cheek, but no words that I can remember. Finally he said farewell to the queen, kissing her hand and bidding her to serve as his adv
ocate, to which she heartily consented.
After my father had made his way on board, with all the dogs following close behind him, the king’s lads came by as well to offer their final words of friendship. I remembered all too easily the last time we had spoken, when I behaved in a most impetuous manner. I am certain that my cheeks turned red as I looked out toward the shimmering river, unable even to meet their glances.
“William, my lad, I shall miss our times together,” Robert said. William’s only response was to hold on to both his legs and command him not to go.
“Oh, but we must, Master William,” Stephen told him, “for my mother cannot bear to be parted from me for long, and I must visit with my brothers, particularly young Henry. I shall tell him that you say hello and good day.”
“I am sure I am better at sport than Henry,” my brother replied, clearly outraged that any person could be considered a more worthy subject of attention, even for a moment, than himself.
“Yes, you are very good,” Stephen agreed, “and certainly a bit more careful than your sister. I feel somewhat fortunate to still have a head on my shoulders.”
I could tell from the look he gave me that this comment was made in jest, but I was still ashamed. I was searching for some apt words when Brian fitz Count spared me.
“It is not Maud’s fault for kicking the ball, but rather your fault for getting in the way,” he offered. “Had her view not been blocked, I am certain she would have had a clearer shot, and as it was, you must admit that it provided us with the chance to play rescuer to several of the most lovely maidens of the court.”
“Come now, we all know that Stephen will be the last one to admit when he has made an error. It is not in his nature to accept such shame,” Robert mocked. The look on Stephen’s face seemed to imply that he did not take to that comment any better than I had to his own.
“We shall miss you too, Princess Maud,” Brian said to me. “I think your father has great hopes for you.”
“He speaks of marriage to the German emperor. My mother is hardly pleased.”
The Girl Empress (The Chronicle of Maud Book 1) Page 6