by Mary Yarde
“Treason? That doesn’t make any sense.” She looked at Amandine and then the Queen. “We have only just got here,” Annis protested. She tried to rise from the bed. “Where is he?”
“He has been confined to his chamber. Please don’t try to stand; you are only going to…”
Annis fell to her knees. “What have you done to me?” she cried. Amandine rushed to help, but Annis shrugged her hand away. “Leave me alone,” she yelled. “I want to see my husband,” she demanded again, as she dragged herself back up on to the bed.
“Budic wants the handfast between you and Alden revoked. In exchange he has, on my advice, very reluctantly offered Alden his army. He has told Alden that he will ride with him to help him reclaim Cerniw if he does as he is bid,” Anna explained. “Alden has to agree.”
“I see,” Annis said. She looked down at the floor. This was what Alden had hoped for — his brother’s army. She could not stand in his way. She closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the tears.
“Alden has refused Budic’s offer.” Amandine spoke softly still.
“What?” Annis raised her head and looked at the Queen, her eyes shimmering with disbelief. “Why would he do that?”
“He fancies himself in love with you.” Anna shrugged as if she felt that love was a mild infection one would soon recover from with the right poultice. “So it is down to you.”
“What’s down to me?” Annis asked, thoroughly confused.
“Anna, you can’t ask that of her; it is not fair,” Amandine protested.
“I am trying to keep the peace, Amandine. Listen, Annis, I know you love him, but I know that Alden will not be content without Cerniw; and although he loves you, he may later resent you for keeping him from his rightful place.”
“What do you want me to do?” Annis asked, her voice was quiet, resigned.
“She wants you to revoke the handfast.” Amandine said; she had stood and paced over to the window, clearly disgusted with her Queen.
“If there was any other way…” Anna said.
“You must refuse,” Amandine contradicted.
“Amandine.” Anna said, exasperated.
“It is what Alden would want her to do,” Amandine answered.
“No, Your Majesty, you are right,” Annis said. “I cannot stand in his way, he must reclaim his kingdom.”
Annis stood by the window, welcoming the cold wind on her face. It had snowed heavily in the night; huge drifts lay against the castle wall and the soldiers struggled through the knee-deep snow to get to their posts. The sky was dark, the clouds heavy with another winter storm. There were no birds in the sky; the whole world had come to a standstill. It was depressing. Annis leant against the window frame and continued to stare at the bleakness in front of her.
“Annis, for goodness sake, shut the shutters; her majesty will be here in a minute,” Josephine ordered sharply. Josephine was the youngest of the Queen’s ladies, at only fourteen, but she had the most contagious smile Annis had ever seen and she could talk non-stop without seemingly, pausing for breath. She was a whirlwind.
Annis pushed herself off the window frame and reluctantly did as she was told. She hated it here. She hated the people, the building, everything.
She had not seen him. Not even in passing. She assumed he was still in the castle somewhere, for she had not heard that the soldiers that Budic had promised him when she revoked the handfast had sailed to Cerniw and Josephine had promised to tell her when they did. But it had been almost two sennights now and she was beginning to wonder if he was here at all.
Last night, like the night before and the night before that, she had attended the evening feast. Before then she had eaten in her room, as Budic had considered her a risk. Although what he thought she could possibly do that constituted such a concern was a mystery to her. She had hoped to see Alden at the evening feasts, but he was absent on all occasions.
The Queen of Brittany entered gracefully into the room, her eyes catching Annis’s briefly. Annis tore her gaze away, refusing to look at her. She wished she was anywhere but where she was right now.
“The war party has been delayed again,” Anna said as she poured herself some wine. “Maybe it’s a sign from God.”
Annis simply stared at the fire in the hearth.
“I just remembered, you will be here for our celebration of the birth of Christ, our saviour. It’s my favourite time of year. There will be dancing and entertainment, oh and the food.” Josephine’s eyes lit up as she spoke. “I guess you don’t know a lot about our religion, being who you are. What’s Wessex like?”
Annis still did not answer and Josephine glanced at the Queen. “You must be looking forward to going home,” Josephine continued, “and seeing your mother. She must miss you.”
Annis snorted a laugh. “Miss me?” She shook her head and reached for her embroidery.
“Surely you will be glad to leave all the unpleasantness behind, though,” Josephine continued. “Alden is avoiding you. I have heard he is taking his meals in the kitchen.”
“Josephine,” Anna snapped, “that is enough from you, young lady.”
Annis began to unpick part of her embroidery; she could not get the flower to look right no matter how many times she tried. She should throw the piece of linen away, like she wanted to throw herself away. “I am sure your celebrations will be a very grand thing to behold.”
Josephine opened her mouth to speak, but a dark look from the Queen silenced her.
“Josephine dear, go and see what is keeping Amandine.”
Josephine gave a dramatic sigh of annoyance, but then did as she was bid. When Josephine had left the room, Queen Anna rose and sat beside Annis. She placed her hands on top of Annis’s, stilling her fingers.
“Josephine’s mouth sometimes runs away with her. She has a good heart and she is very dear to me, despite what her father was. You did the right thing, Annis, the right thing for you as well as Alden. I would not advise anyone to marry a du Lac; they cannot make you happy…they…” Anna’s voice trailed off.
“But I did marry him.” Annis said. She moved her hands away from Anna’s and stabbed the embroidery with her needle. “And I love him still.”
“Love is nothing but a passing fancy. Your father will choose a fine husband for you.”
Annis laughed bitterly. “Is that before or after he kills me?”
“Your father won’t kill you,” Anna said. “You are sounding like Josephine.”
Annis raised her head and looked at the Queen. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
There was a discreet knock at the door, which stopped Annis from saying anything further.
“Enter.” Anna ordered, frowning as the door opened.
“I am sorry to interrupt, your Majesty,” Josephine said as she curtsied.
“Oh Josephine,” Anna growled in annoyance, “I told you to go and get Amandine. You cannot have forgotten already.”
“Well, I was on my way there, but then I heard that her husband…” she bit her lip.
“Her husband?” Anna questioned.
“He has just been found dead in their chamber and Amandine is nowhere to be seen,” Josephine said with wide-eyed excitement.
“How pleasant,” Anna stated, and with a swish of her gown sat back down on her chair and picked up her embroidery. “Try the beach. If Amandine is missing, one can always find her there.”
The death of a noble was usually a solemn affair, but not so in this case. No plans were altered; the evening’s planned activities were to go ahead as usual. Annis had not had a chance to speak to Amandine, although she had heard from Josephine that Amandine had already been summoned to see the King, in order to discuss her next marriage. Annis found this lack of mourning disturbing. She also wondered why the king seemed so determined that Amandine was not to remain a widow for l
ong. There was a reason this castle was cold, which had nothing to do with the stonewalls. There was cruelty here. She had seen Amandine from a distance. Her eyes were dry, her posture straight. It was like nothing of any significance had happened.
That evening Annis followed the Queen, along with Josephine, into the Great Hall. As Queen, Anna walked towards the head table where her husband was impatiently waiting, for Anna was late on account of a dress that had torn at the hem. Annis and Josephine hung back and took their places at the back of the hall. Annis settled herself down between the wife of one of the courtiers and her aged mother, who had a face that could sour cream. Annis smiled a greeting, only to have it returned with a snort of distaste. She looked across the table at Josephine, who gave a hopeless shrug.
The King had risen, so as etiquette dictated, they all stood. The woman and her mother turned to look at their King; Josephine caught Annis’s eyes and pulled a face to mimic the old matriarch. A bubble of hysteria rose up into Annis’s throat. The old woman turned and looked fiercely at Annis, who quickly started coughing, to hide the laugh.
Budic was addressing them now, so she turned her attention to him. Her heart missed a beat, for Alden stood beside him and he was looking at her. She held his gaze for a moment and then turned her face away; it hurt more to see him than it did when he had stayed away.
Alden had stopped listening to his brother the moment he had spotted Annis. She had sacrificed herself for him again, and he was so fed up with her having to do that. She thought she was making things easier for him, but she had not. Budic had no intention of letting him have the troops. Oh, he made large promises, but they were just empty words.
Yesterday they could have sailed, last week they could have sailed. But they didn’t. He glanced across at the King. How he hated him. Budic had inherited the best cavalry on the continent, if not the world. If they joined up with Natanleod’s men, they would be unstoppable. But they were still here. And Alden suspected they always would be. There had been no news from the mainland, anything could have happened since he had left. The lack of news was worrying.
Budic had finished speaking at last, though if asked, Alden could not have repeated what was said. The King sat, so everyone else could. Alden reached for his wine and leant back in his chair. It was an insult, sitting her at the back of the hall. As his wife she should be with him; as a daughter of a powerful ruler she should be on the second table at least.
He was making her uncomfortable; he could see that he was. But he could not drag his eyes away from her.
“There are other women,” Budic stated. “A court full of them — take your pick.” Budic waved his hand around the hall.
“Go to hell,” Alden replied.
“Not likely,” Budic replied, amused. “Oh look, she has made friends with the drunk’s daughter. How very fitting.” Budic laughed. “Perhaps I will excuse her bad choice in a husband, for it seems she makes bad choices all around. Was she good in bed?”
Alden turned to look at his brother, his face like thunder.
“What?” Budic asked innocently, as he picked up a piece of meat and popped it into his mouth. “I just want to know if it is worth me doing her.”
“And you wonder why I hate you,” Alden replied, his voice cold, emotionless.
“I know why you hate me. Don’t worry; I have no interest in your whore.”
Annis looked at the food and a wave of sickness passed over her. She pushed the plate away and reached for the ale instead. The ale was weak and tasteless; it might as well have been water. At least the judgemental matriarch and her daughter had found themselves somewhere else to sit and for that she was thankful.
“You really should eat,” Josephine was saying in between mouthfuls of food. “It really is very good.”
“No appetite.”
“The Queen never has an appetite when she is expecting either,” Josephine said, matter-of-factly.
Annis’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her stomach. She couldn’t be, could she? It was too early for symptoms. Wasn’t it? She tried to remember when she had her last bleed and she could not. So much had happened; the days had flown into each other. By the gods, what would happen to her if she were pregnant? What would happen to the child?
She looked back to where Alden sat, but he was turned away from her, talking to his brother. Her gaze travelled around the hall until it met Amandine’s. She shook her head in panic. Amandine frowned back at her, then comprehension dawned on her face.
Annis felt like the walls were closing in on her. She needed to get out of this suffocating building before she was sick, or worse yet, passed out. “Will you excuse me?” she said, rising to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Josephine asked. “The dancing will begin soon.”
“I just need some fresh air.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Josephine did not sound enthusiastic about the idea.
“No. Thank you. I…I won’t be long.”
Alden saw her slip out of the door and had to refrain from getting up and following her.
Lady Amandine walked up to the top table. The seat next to Alden’s was empty and, without asking for permission, she sat down upon it.
“I need to talk to you,” she said softly. “It is important.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” Alden said, taking a sip of his wine, his eyes still fixed on the door. “Your husband was a fine man.”
“Fine?” Amandine smiled grimily. “I need to tell you something. I don’t know for certain, but I have a suspicion.”
“I haven’t time for court gossip,” Alden replied.
“And I do?” Amandine asked. “It isn’t court gossip; it is about Annis.”
Alden took another sip of his wine and then turned to look at her. “Tell me.”
“Not here, somewhere private.”
“I can not follow you out of the hall, Amandine. It would hardly be proper.”
“I am aware of the impropriety, but it is important. We shall dance,” she said, standing and holding out her hand.
“Dance?” He looked at her as if she had gone mad. “You are in mourning.”
“You would never think it,” Amandine said bitterly. “Budic has already chosen my next groom, but I do not want to talk about that. Listen, Garren said to me once that dancing was the best way to get out of this hall unnoticed. You dance and then you blend into the crowd and then you leave. We used to do it all the time.”
“Then we shall dance,” Alden said, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet.
Annis groomed the horse’s neck, rubbing the dust and dirt out of the animal’s hair. The horse’s eyes were half shut and he was resting his hind leg whilst enjoying the attention. The repetitive brushing made her arm ache, but at least in the warmth of the stables, she was not cold.
“You should be getting back, my Lady,” Bastian said as he moved another game piece on the board, a broad grin spreading across his face as John, who was huddled in a thick winter cloak, swore softly under his breath.
“You cannot do that,” John muttered.
“You are a sore loser,” Bastian said. Rising to his feet, he walked towards Annis. He took the brush from her and tossed it into a bucket at the side of the stable. “You will be missed if you do not go back now.”
Annis sighed deeply; the sweet smell of hay and horse surrounded her and gave her a level of comfort that she did not get in the cold, stone walled rooms of the castle. “I would rather stay here. I have no desire to go back in there.”
John snorted. “I do not pretend to enjoy the splendour of court life either, but you would be dishonoured if it were found out you were here, unaccompanied with Bastian and me. We may be old and past it — ”
“Speak for yourself,” Bastian interrupted. “Not that I would think to…” The general of Budic’s army blushe
d.
“Ignore him, lass. He has been in the company of men too long. He has no idea what to do with a woman anymore. Come on, I’ll take you back, Alden would never forgive me if I let you walk the night unattended.”
“I doubt he would care,” Annis stated, blinking back tears. She had slipped outside and let the coldness of the air freeze the tears on her cheeks. She knew it was wrong, but she had already decided that she would never step foot on Wessex soil again. She had a knife, a small one, but the blade was sharp, and it would be enough for her to end it all. Her father would kill her anyway, so what did it matter? But if she was pregnant, well, that made things more complicated. The coldness of the night began to make her shiver, and now she had a child to think of, she could not afford to let herself become ill. She had to be strong. She had to remember how to be strong. So she had walked back into the hall with her head held high and then she saw him dancing with Amandine. He looked just like he did when he was married to Edmee and she had watched him behind the curtains. He was flirting with her, enjoying her company. She watched in horror as the music came to an end and he raised Amandine’s knuckles to his mouth, kissing them gently and smiling. He had turned then and caught her eye. Annis had shaken her head in disbelief and fled. She did not know where she was going, but anywhere was better than here. Bastian had caught her as she tried to make her way out of the castle grounds. He had promptly marched her to the stable block, given her a brush and told her to take her frustrations out on the horse’s coat. Annis had brushed the horse until he gleamed.
Bastian and John escorted her to the door of the castle. The wind had died down, but soft flakes of snow were falling from the sky again. They stayed and watched her until she was safely inside.
“How far did she get?” a voice asked from the darkness.
Bastian shook his head. “Almost out of the blasted gates. She is not going to stay here much longer, I am telling you. That is twice now I have seen her outside when she should be in there. Alden, I fear for her safety. I cannot always be here to see her safe. She must stay within the protective circle of the Queen. All these fine noblemen dressed in their expensive clothes are men underneath, and a slip of a thing like that would not stand a chance if they decided to use her.”