A King's Betrayal

by Sole, Linda

  The silk dress and the chain were hers. She picked the necklet up again and tried the chain about her neck but it was not long enough to fasten properly. It had been a trinket for a much-loved child. Beth examined the necklet and saw that there was a loop through which it would be possible to thread the cross onto a ribbon. There were ribbons in Mistress Soames’s coffers. In the morning she would fetch her things from the village and then she would wear the cross about her throat so that it hung beneath her gown. She would keep the necklet hidden inside her gown for the moment lest someone stole it whilst she was out. The child’s dress could stay with Marthe’s things until she had somewhere better to store it.

  Her supper done she placed her bowl and horn cup into the wooden bucket she used to wash them. She would do them in the morning. Slipping outside to relieve herself, Beth looked warily about her lest John the Blacksmith had lain in wait to catch her alone. He had been very angry over his banishment and she thought he might seek revenge on her, but there was nothing to disturb her in the silence of the woods and the occasional hooting of an owl.

  The woods did not frighten her. She had lived here with Marthe for so many years and she knew where the sounds came from and which animal had snorted or barked. Yet the night was bitter cold. Shivering, Beth hurried inside to the warmth of her fire. The hut seemed empty without Marthe, but in truth the older woman had scarcely noticed her for months except to grumble if she kept her waiting for her food.

  Beth put the wooden bar across the door to keep it safe during the night, checked that the fire would last without causing a log to fall and set the rush mats alight. Then she crawled inside her nest of covers made from rabbit skins and closed her eyes.

  She wished that she could pray, as Sir William had over Marthe’s grave, but she did not know what to say or who to pray to and sought in her mind for something that would give her peace and shut out the loneliness of the night.

  ‘Mother…if you live, my real mother. I pray that you are safe and that you do not grieve for me. I thank you for the pretty things you gave me when I was with you – and for your smile and the scent I can still remember. If you still think of me I would like you to know that I am safe – and if I could I would come to you.’

  A deep warm calm feeling came over her and for a moment she felt as if she were not alone. It was almost as if a pair of loving arms surrounded her, keeping her safe. Her fingers felt for and held the cross and chain she’d found in Marthe’s coffer and as she held it she smiled, drifting into sleep.

  Part Three

  Twenty Nine

  Beatrice woke with a start. The fire was still alight but her chamber felt cold. She turned to Tomas and shook his shoulder, waking him. He stared at her in alarm.

  ‘What ails you, Beatrice? Are you ill?’

  ‘I dreamed of her, Tomas. I saw her, not as the child she was when we lost her but as a young woman. She was alone and desperately unhappy. She called to me and in my dream I held her in my arms and comforted her.’

  ‘It was but a dream, my love.’

  Beatrice wept, her body trembling as the dream stayed with her, haunting her. Tomas took her in his arms to comfort her, stroking her hair. For a moment she let him hold her, then she kissed him and wiped her eyes, but instead of lying back against her pillows, she left their bed and went over to the window to gaze out at the night sky. It was black with only an occasional star to light the darkness. Even now she was awake she felt the pull of the voice that had spoken to her in dreams.

  ‘She is alive, Tomas. I feel it in my heart. She called to me tonight. I know that somehow she lives – and she needs us. She is in some kind of trouble. We must find her and help her.’

  ‘You wish me to search for her yet again?’

  She turned to him, a look of entreaty in her eyes. ‘I know it sounds foolish but yes, I want you to search for her. I believe she needs us.’

  Tomas sighed, leaving the bed to stand with her and look out at the night.

  ‘You know that it is almost impossible? I have sent out so many messages, offered rewards, and every time we have false hope that leads to naught but pain and disappointment for you. Even if she lives she will have changed. She might be anywhere. In truth, I do not know where to start looking.’

  ‘I think she lives in a wood. In my dream there were trees…’ She turned in his arms, gazing up at him. ‘I know I ask too much. I always have – but please, do this for me. Send out men to ask if anyone knows of a girl who lives alone in a wood. Say that you look for a lost daughter but no more and offer a reward. Please, Tomas. For one last time. If she truly lives we must find her.’

  ‘As if I could refuse you,’ he said and touched her cheek. ‘You know that it would give me pleasure if I could return your Elspeth to you, my love.’

  ‘I know she lives,’ Beatrice said. ‘But we must find her before it is too late.’

  Tomas made no reply. He felt that it would be a thankless task. How could he hope to succeed after so many years had passed? Yet he must try, because he could not refuse Beatrice.

  Thirty

  ‘Yes, of course you can borrow my cart. I shall come with you and help you, Beth. I am not sure you could manage the big coffer alone.’

  ‘Are you sure you wish to be seen with me after what happened?’

  ‘John Blacksmith took his family and went that night. He sold what tools he had apart from those he could carry with him and the lord has given permission for another man to live and work the forge.’ Mistress Grey looked pleased with herself. ‘My son Tam was always clever with his hands. As a young lad he used to watch John Blacksmith’s father and he says he shall teach himself what he does not know. It is a fine thing for him and means that he can marry at last.’

  ‘I am glad Tam is to have the forge. You must be happy for him.’

  ‘Our cottage is too small for another family. Tam has been waiting until a cottage came empty. He would have liked Mistress Soames’s cottage but the lord forbade it.’ She looked at Beth thoughtfully. ‘Are you sure you do not wish to move there now that Marthe has gone? ‘Tis a good size and the walls are stout. I lit a fire there in the winter to keep it from getting damp.’

  ‘I shall stay in the woods for now. If your son wishes to take the cottage when I have my things he may.’

  ‘Tam has the forge, but my eldest daughter and her husband live with me and they have three children under six. I have two at home besides still not earning. If you do not need the cottage I should like to rear a goat or two in the yard at the back.’

  ‘You may use the yard or the cottage. Why not move in and let your daughter have your house for her children?’

  ‘I could not take your house in case you need it,’ Mistress Grey said and smiled. ‘But it would suit me to keep goats and hens there – and perhaps to use the oven for baking. It is bigger than mine and will take a fat cockerel at Christ’s Mass. With the extra land I might rear a goose as well as the hens and goats. When I kill a young kid I will share the meat with you, though I like the milk and the cheese they provide best.’

  ‘I should like a piece of your cheese one day. I remember that you gave me some once when I brought you a mixture for your cough.’

  ‘Your cures eased my chest. You have helped so many in the village. Most people are willing to make amends, Beth. If you came here to live I think they would not turn their backs on you.’

  ‘The priest would not be so forgiving.’

  ‘Father Amos has gone. As yet we have no priest to take his place but we shall say prayers on Sunday, as always, even if we gather outside the church.’

  ‘If I lived in the village I should be expected to go to church, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘It would be wise to show respect, Beth, even if you do not believe.’

  Beth nodded but said no more. Someone who loved her had given her the cross and chain when she was a child, perhaps to protect her. Since it was a symbol of the Christian religion she must have been admitted to the
church then, but she could not remember it. She was not sure how she felt about going to church. Marthe said the priests were worse than other men.

  ‘They are dirty in mind as well as body and their depravity makes a mockery of their pious ways. They preach to the people and exhort them to lead good lives, but in private they commit every sin known to Man.’

  Beth had asked Marthe what the priest had done to her that made her hate and despise them all but she had merely turned her head away, as she always did when she did not wish to answer. The priest had hated her as much as she hated him, and it was he who had been determined to punish her for being a witch.

  Perhaps she had been a witch, but Beth did not think Marthe truly evil. She might have done wrong at times, but for the most part she had tried only to help.

  Together, Beth and Mistress Grey sorted through the things that Beth wanted for herself. She had taken a few things from the big coffer previously and now she packed into it all the pots and utensils that would be useful at the hut. Between them they dragged the coffer out and tied it on to the handcart, then loaded on the chair, the embroidery frame and a stool, also the smaller coffer.

  ‘I think this is all I truly need,’ Beth said. ‘The table, Mistress Soames’s clothes and the extra bedding are of no use to me. If you wish for any of these thing you may have them – or give them to your son for his house.’

  ‘I will leave the table in case you need it one day, but I think Tam and his wife might like some of these blankets. Are you sure you do not need anything else?’

  ‘Quite sure. I have more than enough for my needs.’

  ‘But the future – surely you will not stay alone in the woods forever?’

  ‘I like it there. I cannot live here yet. Perhaps one day I shall seek the company of others but not for a time.’

  She could not forget the hostile eyes watching her as Sir William had led her through them the morning she had buried Marthe, or the insults flung at her back. It would take time before she could trust again.

  ‘Will you still help those who are sick?’

  ‘With simple cures. I am not like Marthe. I can make only simple cures – but if that is enough then I shall not refuse those that ask.’

  ‘I shall tell them,’ Mistress Grey said. ‘I will fetch the things I want later. I think some of the clothes might be of use. I could cut them up and make things for the children.’

  ‘Yes, you could do that.’ Beth smiled. ‘You have been my friend and I am grateful. I will visit you sometimes if I may?’

  ‘I wish you would live here with us. I do not like to think of you alone in the woods.’

  ‘I am safe enough. Marthe was safe in the woods.’

  ‘Yes, that is true enough, though perhaps not for long. Had she not come that day they might have come for her – and in their blood lust they might have taken both of you.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps. I think Marthe knew it. It was the reason she came here that day, to save me.’

  ‘You have the lord’s protection now. While he is here at the castle you must be safe.’

  ‘But if he went away?’ Beth saw the doubt in the other woman’s eyes and felt chilled. ‘I think for the moment I shall stay in the woods.’

  It was summer now and the woods were alive with the sound of birds twittering as they flitted from tree to tree, building nests and feeding their young. There was woodcock nesting above the grave where Marthe’s body lay as Beth knelt to place a posy of purple orchids in the small pot she had filled with water earlier.

  She missed Marthe more than she would have thought possible for she seldom saw anyone. Since fetching her things from the cottage she had not visited the village and no one had come to her for a cure. Her only visitor had been Mistress Grey, who brought her some meat and a small piece of the delicious creamy cheese she produced from her goats’ milk. She had also brought her a live cockerel, which was something Beth had wanted but not been sure how to obtain.

  ‘Your hens will lay now,’ she’d said with a smile and refused to take a penny for her trouble. ‘Tam reckoned he owed his good fortune to you and brought this from the market for you.’

  Beth thanked her and gave her some edible fungi she had picked early that morning. Since the improvement in the weather, it was easy to find enough food for herself and now that she had a cockerel, her hens had decided to lay. She had not taken any of their eggs thus far, because she wanted to have chicks to rear. She had found a fallen tree in the wood and, using an axe that she had brought from the cottage, had constructed a pen of sorts where the chickens could run freely and were protected from foxes. She had also cleared a patch where the trees did not overhang so much and planted some seeds that she’d discovered in Mistress Soames’s coffer, which she tended and watered every morning. She was not certain what she was growing but hoped whatever came up might be edible.

  Her life was full for when she was not searching for food or caring for her vegetable plot and hens, she worked at her sewing. At first she could only manage plain stitching but then she tried to embroider patterns, copying those she found on pieces of unfinished work in the coffer. She made mistakes often and had to un-pick several stitches, but gradually she was improving, though she was not sure she would ever be able to produce anything as fine as the work in Mistress Soames’s silk gown.

  Sometimes she would take the gown out and stroke it, hold it against herself and run her fingers over the soft material. It felt so good close to her skin and she thought it might fit her, perhaps with a little alteration here and there – but of what use was a gown like this when she lived alone in the woods?’

  Always when she had finished touching the gown she would take out the child’s dress and compare them. If anything the child’s gown was even finer than the one Mistress Soames had given her.

  Beth thought how much she would like to wear the dress – if only she had somewhere to go. It was far too fine for the life she led. She thought a lady might have worn such a fine gown when she dined in the hall at the castle. If Beth went to the castle she could wear the gown.

  The thought came to her mind sometimes but she dismissed it. Her life in the woods was hard and sometimes she admitted that she was lonely, but if she put on the gown and went to the castle Sir William would know why she had come – and then she would be his whore.

  Beth no longer hated him. He had helped her with Marthe’s body. She could have brought her home on the cart and she could have dug the grave herself, but it would have been much harder. Sir William had said a prayer for Marthe’s soul and Beth would not know what to say.

  Every night now she spoke to the mother she could not truly remember. The first time it had been almost a prayer, but now she simply talked to her, telling her about her life and telling her that she loved her. Sometimes she thought she could see the face of the lady who had told her stories, and hear a soft voice, but then she knew it was only the wind sighing in the trees.

  Yes, she was lonely but she would not put on her gown and go to the castle yet.

  Thirty One

  ‘I am for Burgundy with a message from the King,’ Raoul said as he supped with William de Burgh that evening. ‘I may not return to England for some months. You knew that Henry has demanded terms to settle the differences between France and England?’

  William toyed with the stem of his cup for a moment, then, ‘His demands will be refused for he asks not only for Katherine of France but the throne when Charles dies, besides more lands and territories. Henry’s father has been dead but a few months and already there is certain to be another war, as if we had not suffered enough unrest these past years. I think there will never be true peace until the rightful heir sits on the English throne.’

  ‘You speak of Mortimer I suppose?’ Raoul frowned. ‘Henry hath treated him kindly enough and the young earl is but a youth. I doubt he will wish to raise his sword against the King.’

  ‘There is unrest amongst some of the barons who support the House of York
.’

  ‘There is always unrest amongst the barons and petty lords.’

  ‘True enough. Most of them exist to fight and grow bored when there are no wars.’

  ‘There will be campaigns enough against the French before long for any man with restless feet. The Dauphin’s faction will not accept Henry’s terms even if his father does and there will be another war before this dispute is ended. The barons will content themselves with rich prizes taken in battle. I wonder that you do not choose to offer your services?’

  ‘I have received various offers and I shall offer my sword where it is needed. My stewards have everything under control and there is little for me here now.’

  ‘You sound like a man disappointed in love?’

  William gave a curt shake of the head. ‘I thought you settled at court?’

  ‘My work there is done. I shall offer my sword to Burgundy for the moment, if he will have it.’

  ‘Where your true allegiance has lain all along perhaps? Burgundy plays a waiting game. Mayhap he covets a crown for himself?’

  Raoul frowned. ‘I can read no man’s mind. The Duke of Burgundy was a friend to mine – and I owe him a debt.’ He took a last sip of wine and touched a napkin to his lips. ‘Now, my friend, I thank you for my supper – and must take my leave of you.’

  ‘You will not rest here this night? It will soon be dark even though the nights are at their longest.’

  ‘I do not fear the dark,’ Raoul said and stood up. ‘I shall sleep beneath the stars for I travel alone and shall not meet the men I have mustered until the morning. My trusted squire Stefan is with them and we are pledged to meet in Winchester.’