“I see you have met the imperial chancellor,” Mother whispered to me.
“Yes, he seemed quite eager for me to be impressed by the emperor.”
“Little wonder there, since his position likely depends upon the fate of this match,” she replied. “The chancellor will do his utmost to use you to his own advantage, my daughter, as any official would. Embrace his advice and stay close to him, but take care, for a day may come when he will ask more of you than you ought to give.”
“Yes, Mother.”
I do not know how long our discussion would have continued in that vein had the large platter placed in front of me not contained a giant fish with a savage appearance. I moved back from the table as my father pulled out his knife and dug into its flesh with the ardent desire of a man more prone to hunger than the king surely was.
“Mother, the fish is looking at me,” I said with concern.
The queen placed her arm around my shoulders and, without a trace of irony, replied, “You had better make yourself accustomed to it, Daughter. Everyone will be looking at you from this day forward.”
On the day of Pentecost, on which the Spirit of our Lord descended upon his saints lo those many years ago, King Henry required of the imperial legates that they swear upon the name of the emperor that all the terms of the matrimonial agreement would be upheld, and that the two kingdoms would continue in perpetual peace and fidelity from that day forward. With solemn dignity they made the pledge and sealed it. Then the king sat upon his throne in Westminster Hall, the royal crown was placed on his head, and all who were present stood in awe.
It was agreed that I should depart for my new home after the following Candlemas. You will note that this feast came near my own birth date and would mark the beginning of my ninth year of life. The ambassadors departed for their native land, there to share with their master the news that his bride would be delivered to him as promised.
The age of eight being too early for a proper marriage ceremony, it was decided that the wedding must take place after I had attained the age of twelve, by which point I should be a full woman. Some wondered at the emperor’s willingness to endure such a wait before undertaking the continuation of his dynasty, but others argued that his chief aim was to gain my dowry and make use of it in his dispute with Pope Paschal. Indeed, some whispered that King Henry had driven a bad bargain, for the taxes that he would now be forced to levy upon his subjects were such that they would surely result in rebellion. “Who is this emperor of the Romans that he should receive both the king’s firstborn daughter and the wealth of England in exchange for little of value?” they would complain. But the will of the king ruled all, and he was intent on ensuring the alliance.
Through all of this, I watched and waited. There was news from the east that the imperial army had been forced to retreat from its advance against the Poles, who had brought great torment to the peoples of Pomerania and Bohemia. This was a setback not only for the dispute in Bohemia, but also for the defense of that kingdom against Hungary, which had for its ally the same Polish king, Bołeslaw, wicked man that he was.
The tales of Bołeslaw’s barbarous actions were well known: how he would cause enemy troops to be hung by the feet for days on end with their entrails cut off and fed to the dogs, how he did not shrink from using the children of his subjects as shields against the German advance, and how he’d gouged out the eyes of his own brother, Zbigniew, in his lust for power. Less like a Christian and more like a pagan, my mother thought him, though she still treasured the bear pelt that he had sent to her some years earlier.
It seemed that the empire was beset from all sides, but with the strength of this new English alliance, the fortunes of the young Emperor Henry could only improve, or so we hoped. When autumn arrived, the king decided that I should attend my first royal council when he made his court in the city of Nottingham. Upon arriving in the land of the Germans, I would be forced to act as mediator on my husband’s behalf, overseeing grants of royal charters and matters at the imperial court. For such work I must be readied in advance.
We set out to the north in the first week of October, making our way along the road first to Saint Albans, where we spent the night on a goodly estate belonging to one of the local barons; I cannot remember which one. The next two nights we made camp along the path while the men sought game in the nearby woodlands. I had traveled only a little in my young life, but I made my best attempt to adjust to this continual motion, being planted one evening and removed the following morn. I was thankful at least that my mother the queen had decided to make the journey along with us.
On the third day, we glimpsed the walls of Northampton Castle rising above the River Nene, illuminated by the autumn sunshine. It had been built by order of my grandfather, King William, who had granted the lands to Simon de Senlis and made him the first Earl of Northampton. The earl was a great builder and deeply religious. Under his patronage the castle walls and those surrounding the town were raised, along with the new keep within the castle bailey. He also oversaw the creation of the Holy Sepulcher church in Northampton town—said to be a near copy of the one in Jerusalem—and the Priory of Saint Andrew.
Even so, the earl’s greatest accomplishment was his highly profitable marriage to Maud, the Countess of Huntingdon, heir to the earldom of that northern land. When they were joined in wedlock, Simon de Senlis’s possessions in Northamptonshire were joined with those in Huntingdon to form a territory exceeding that of most of the baronage. It was rumored that the earl had first sought after the countess’s mother, Judith, for his bride, but was altogether more pleased to receive such a young beauty with which to build his dynasty.
As for the castle, it was surrounded by extensive dikes and ringed by a fence of wood pales almost three times the height of a man. The watchmen circled the interior on a scaffold, from which they must have received a superior view of the surrounding country. We entered through the north gate and made our way to the inner bailey, where the earl and his entire household had assembled to greet us. I watched through the carriage window as the king, the queen, Bishop Roger of Salisbury, the Earl of Surrey, and the king’s lads moved to greet the rest of the officials in attendance. I might have been content to sit there for hours, but the door was now opened by one of the king’s grooms, who bid me alight.
I did as I was asked, taking great care not to slip. I had been allowed on this occasion to forgo the traditional wimple in exchange for a gold diadem. The women attending me had been making their best efforts throughout the day’s journey to perform this feat of adornment, while suffering from such motion as would send tremors through the carriage. More than one ill-timed pull of my hair produced a squeal. With my attendants in train, I was directed toward the Countess of Huntingdon for the usual introduction.
“Lady Mathilda, allow me to bid you welcome to Northampton Castle! We are honored to receive the king and his beloved daughter.”
“And may I thank you, Countess, for your hospitality and great generosity,” I replied, using the words I had learned beforehand.
The countess began to inquire as to the nature of our travel from Westminster, whether the road was in good condition for this time of year, and on what day we would make our departure for Nottingham, when a man whom I had not yet noticed interrupted us.
“Well, if it isn’t my wee niece!”
“Uncle David!” I cried. “I didn’t know you would be here!”
“But of course! When I heard the king was on progress in the North, I made haste to meet him. The English court is a far sight better than the Scottish one, and the welcome I receive is better as well.” He then added in a low tone, “You must never tell anyone that I said this, but the food at the English court is superior to anything we receive up yonder. I suppose I should have come just for these delights, had there been no other reason.”
Having knelt to embrace me, he now stood up and turned to face our hostess, who was standing patiently to the side.
“Apologies, Countess,” he said with a bow of his head. “It was wrong of me to interrupt your conversation.”
The look on her face was hard to read. “I have heard much about you, David, prince of Scotland. They say you are often with King Henry.”
“As often as I can be, though I have my own affairs to attend to in the North.”
“I have heard tell about that as well.”
“I do not doubt that you have, Countess, but why ruin such a grand occasion by discussing matters of state?”
“You know that I am heir to my father’s lands in Huntingdon,” she said, her tone becoming more serious. “Rumor has it that you seek to build a kingdom for yourself in the marches of Scotland, and perhaps in England as well. You must know that I will not stand idly by the wayside should you threaten my ancestral lands.”
For a moment the prince and countess simply stared at each other. It seemed that each one was straining to see within the mind of the other and determine how best to win this battle of wits. He was of higher rank than she, but her superior age seemed to set them on equal footing. Finally my uncle smiled and reached out to grasp the countess’s hand. He raised it to his lips and then looked her in the eye as he gently kissed it.
“My lady, I doubt that any man could take something of yours which you did not willingly give. Have no fear!”
Something in the countess’s face seemed to soften, and had the earl and the king not stepped forward at that moment to bid us all enter the hall, I suspect that the two of them could have carried on staring at each other for a good while longer. Certainly they had forgotten my presence long before the conversation ended.
We spent but two days at Northampton Castle before proceeding north to the seat of the Earl of Leicester, Robert de Beaumont, which was next to the River Soar. We stayed a few nights there as the train of nobles accompanying the king continued to grow, among them the Earl of Warwick, uterine brother of the Earl of Leicester. The Earl of Surrey, William de Warenne, had already traveled with us from Westminster, while the Earl of Northampton had joined us only in the past few days. All made ready now for the final push toward Nottingham.
If the number of earls in this tale overwhelms you, Daughter, allow me to assure you that most of them will play little role in the remainder of our tale, for by the time I had cause to visit the castles of earls again, a new generation had arisen to supplant the companions of William the Conqueror.
We approached the River Trent upon the ides of October. I still remember the feeling of that autumn day as the cool wind brushed against our faces and seemed to sink through the layers of cloth and skin to our very bones. For the first time, the beaver furs were brought out to increase our comfort. The ladies wrapped a mantle around my shoulders and bid me be at ease, for we were almost there. I had never before traveled so far, and I found myself longing for the sight of Nottingham Castle, where a hearty fire would greet me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against one of the pillows in the carriage, my imagination conjuring thoughts of hot cider and stew, fresh venison, and the last of the season’s berries.
We made our crossing at the confluence of the waters, where the River Leen joins the River Trent. The former is little but a channel in comparison to the latter, for only small craft may pass through its waters. We continued our path along the Leen until we saw the cliffs rising up from its banks. On top of them the stone motte of Nottingham Castle rose high, encircled by its wood fortifications.
“The bailey entrance is around the other side,” the bishop of Salisbury could be heard saying to the king. “We had best approach from that direction, by way of the town.”
Having no reason to quarrel, King Henry and his men led the company along the main road that stretched through the town and up to the castle gate. As we passed, men quit their business and rushed out to catch a glimpse of the king in all his glory. Housewives bent out of windows on the right and the left to offer their regards, and children ran beside the horses, which more than doubled them in height. Every man, woman, and child cried out, “Long live King Henry! Long live Queen Mathilda!”
We soon reached the castle gates, which were opened with great pomp and not a little effort by the servants of Sir William Peverel, lord of Nottingham Castle. The company poured into the lower ward, and those on horseback alighted. The carriages were brought round so that they might be unpacked, and I was ushered to the ground by my attendants. Such a great number of people were there! It seemed that no gentleman or lady of the king’s court had seen fit to stay at home. I was now brought to stand beside my parents as Lord and Lady Peverel received them.
“King Henry, Queen Mathilda—I bid you welcome to Nottingham. We have eagerly anticipated your arrival. Should you have the slightest need, my household stands ready to aid you, in order that your stay here may be as pleasant as possible. My home is your home.”
“Thank you, Peverel, for your hospitality,” the king replied.
“And this must be the lady Peverel, Adelina,” my mother said.
“The very same,” Sir William replied as his wife curtsied. “Allow me to also introduce my son, William.” A man who appeared to be near thirty years of age stepped forward and made his bow. “He is fully trained for the knighthood now, and will do good service for the House of Normandy.”
“Excellent,” said the king, eyeing this prospect. “It is to you that the Honor of Peverel must fall, then. I trust you will safeguard it as well as your father has done these many years.”
“I will do my utmost to retain its glory,” the younger Peverel answered.
“Robert! Brian!” the king called out. “Come over here!”
The king’s lads approached and stood to the right of my father, on the opposite side from myself.
“Sir William,” the king resumed, “I wish to make use of the forests nearby. My companions and I have felt sorely the absence of decent game these past few days. I believe that your woods are far better stocked than those we have seen up to this point.”
“It is as you say, Your Highness,” Peverel the elder replied. “But my son is now the best guide that you might wish for on such a journey.”
“It’s settled, then: the lot of us will be off to the forest, there to have such adventures as will serve for the benefit of our manhood. I have longed for some real sport,” my father concluded. “On the morrow, you shall find me at the break of dawn in this very place awaiting our departure.” He paused for a moment and smelled the air, as a hound might when tracking a scent. “Yes, I do believe we shall meet with good luck here!”
“And we shall enjoy the peace and quiet,” the queen said softly.
The king’s council met two days later, after there had been time to bag such beasts as the king and his men pleased. This was the moment for which I had been brought all this way. With all the great lords of the land present, I stood beside my father as he signed a succession of charters for the granting of royal demesne to sundry individuals. As the future queen of the Romans, I made my mark beside his own.
There was much talk of matters across the Channel and what form the king’s next advance against the French might take. Some wished to know the fate of the king’s brother Robert, my uncle, who remained in prison after his pointless betrayal of a few years earlier, when he had risen against his rightful king.
“And what of your nephew, William Clito? Does he remain in the custody of the Count of Arques?” the Earl of Leicester asked.
“Indeed he does,” the king replied, “though I believe that the last of Duke Robert’s supporters may seek to spring him from that particular jail when the time is ripe. As you all know, the count is married into my brother’s family and remains a firm supporter of that lost cause. I do not doubt that at some point he will seek to breathe new life into the old rebellion.”
“Then we had best take charge of the boy before it is too late and transfer the element of control to ourselves,” said Roger of Salisbury. “We cannot allow this danger to
fester and feed the hopes of those who seek to do harm to Your Grace.”
The Earl of Warwick now offered his opinion. “Yet there are those who already find fault in the handling of the boy’s father, and to handle the son in such a manner would attract scorn beyond our own lands, I fear.”
The conversation continued thus until the setting of the sun, at which point I was excused to make preparations for the feast that night. A truly marvelous occasion it was, with all the attendants in their finest apparel. Admittedly, the hall at Nottingham Castle was nowhere near as grand as the one at Westminster or Windsor. Yet on that particular eve it shone so brightly that even the residents of Constantinople would have been forced to admit its magnificence.
“Fantastic, isn’t it?”
I looked to my right to see Robert sitting there with a goblet in hand. He was evidently taking a brief rest from the night’s festivities. I had seen him dance with no fewer than five women already, and despite the cooler air, there were beads of sweat on his forehead and he was breathing deeply.
“I shall miss you, brother Robert, when I go across the sea,” I told him.
“And I shall miss you too, Maud, as will Brian. You know we both favor you.”
“Do you think we shall ever be in each other’s company again?”
“We may yet, Sister. We may. Until then, let us always remember one another. Do you still have the stone of amber that Brian gave to you?”
“I carry it with me always,” I replied, and it was the truth, for I kept it in a small satchel upon my person. I suddenly felt a tinge of fear and said to him, “When the time comes, will you say farewell to him for me? I think I should be afraid to speak with him again.”
“Why is that?” he asked. “You have no difficulty conversing with me. Why should you feel so around him? Did we not enjoy many pleasant summer days together? Did he not show you brotherly kindness?”
The Girl Empress (The Chronicle of Maud Book 1) Page 12