Child of the Phoenix

by Barbara Erskine

  ‘Because I heard it being whispered in the hall tonight,’ Luned replied softly. ‘That is why. And I wondered where the rumour could have come from.’

  There was another long silence. Eleyne closed her eyes. ‘It’s not true,’ she whispered at last, ‘you must stop it.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘It would hurt John so much and it’s unfounded. Totally unfounded.’

  She brought food to John herself, sitting by his bed and holding the bowls of fragrant stews and possets and his favourite doucettes, sweet pastry tarts filled with cream and eggs and sugar, but his appetite was small and he was losing weight before her eyes. The Feast of the Trinity came and went. The weather turned unseasonably wet and cold and they listened to the wind wuthering up the valley from the south-west, tearing the leaves from the trees. Robin ran the earldom with Eleyne’s help, dealing with the important matters as they came in, sorting out a few problems each day to take to John’s bedside. Of Rhonwen there had been no word or sign for two weeks and Eleyne had stopped riding into the forest, her mind too preoccupied with what was happening at the manor.

  Then at last John began to improve. His fever left him and he lay back on the pillows, his eyes clear. Eleyne, white with exhaustion, went to sit with him and he took her hand. ‘My darling, you look so tired. I’m sorry, each time it’s more of a burden on you.’

  She kissed his forehead gently. ‘As long as you are well now.’

  ‘I am well. I thought that woman’s curse had killed me for sure this time.’ He gave a wry grimace. ‘In the sun, with the candles gone and the birds singing outside, I find it hard to believe in her malice, but at night, when the fever had me in its grip I thought I saw her every time I closed my eyes.’

  ‘What woman?’ Her mouth was dry.

  ‘Your beloved Rhonwen. Did you not hear that her ghost was seen?’

  Eleyne looked down at her hands. ‘Yes, I had heard.’

  ‘And you didn’t want to think that she was dead.’ His voice was gentle. ‘I do know how much you loved her, Eleyne. You were too young to realise that she was evil, my darling. It was not your fault that you loved her. I am only thankful that she has gone.’ He heaved himself up higher on the pillows. ‘Where is Robin?’

  ‘He is closeted with your clerks, wrestling with affairs of state.’ She smiled. ‘Poor Robin. He has grown quite thin and pale these last few days. We are lucky he was here while you were so ill. He acts … he acts as though his interests were the same as yours.’

  ‘You mean as if he were my heir?’ John scowled. ‘Would that he were. It would take a load from my mind. As it is my nieces and my sisters are heirs to the estates should anything happen to me. As to the titles, I don’t know. Perhaps Robin has as good a claim as any, at least to Huntingdon.’ Preoccupied with his own bitterness, he did not notice her face. Then he looked up and saw the tears in her eyes. ‘Sweetheart, forgive me, that was cruel. It is not your fault that we have no children yet. There is still time, plenty of time.’ He pulled her to him. ‘You will give me six fine sons and six beautiful daughters and between them they will rule the world.’ He ruffled her hair gently. ‘You’ll see.’

  XII

  ‘She will be in the old charcoal burner’s hut near the Chester road,’ the messenger had said. ‘Come at midday and come alone.’

  ‘You can’t go alone,’ Luned said firmly. ‘I will go with you and wait near at hand with a couple of men-at-arms.’

  Eleyne was torn between longing and irritation that after causing so much rumour and anguish Rhonwen should openly and arrogantly send this message now, as John was getting better. She had hoped that Rhonwen had gone away.

  The forest was sweet with summer, the leaves heavy on the trees, the rides carpeted with late bluebells. As she rode towards the charcoal burner’s hut and dismounted near the remains of one of his fires, she peered warily around. There was no sign of anyone in the clearing; the hut was ruined and deserted. Tying the horse to the branch of a tree she walked across and peered in. Rhonwen was waiting inside. She was thin and pale and her clothes were torn and ragged. Her shoes had fallen almost to pieces, and she was wearing a heavy white woollen cloak.

  At the sight of her, Eleyne’s irritation fell away. They clung together for a long time, then sat side by side on a fallen log in the clearing while Rhonwen told her story.

  ‘So it was Gruffydd who helped you,’ Eleyne said at last. ‘I’m glad, I should have guessed. But now. Where will you go?’ She looked at Rhonwen steadily. ‘You cannot return to my service and you cannot go back to Wales.’

  ‘I can.’ Rhonwen’s eyes were feverish with triumph. ‘I can go anywhere with a king’s pardon. You can get it for me. The King of England is your uncle, and he will give you anything you ask for.’ Rhonwen caught her hands; her grip was very strong. ‘Surely I do not have to beg this from you? With the king’s pardon even the Prince of North Wales can do nothing against me. I will be safe.’

  For a moment Eleyne had almost caught her optimism, but then she shook her head. ‘John would never let me go to the king for that. You made him very angry, Rhonwen.’ She did not add that he was afraid.

  ‘Pah!’ Rhonwen spat on the ground. ‘I don’t give that for your English earl! Besides, I heard he was dying.’ Her eyes grew still on Eleyne’s face. ‘You love a king, cariad, remember that. Your future is in Scotland with him, not with your milksop earl.’

  Eleyne was too shocked to speak immediately: ‘So, it was you who started these evil rumours!’ Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘How dare you! And you are wrong. What you are saying is wicked, evil! It is John I love. John!’ The forest was silent as the two women faced each other, save for the distant ringing call of a blackbird hidden in the thicket.

  ‘So.’ Rhonwen raised an eyebrow. ‘You really believe that? Oh, how he’s got you tamed! I can see the jesses around your ankles.’ She stood up restlessly. ‘He’s not man enough to have got you with child yet, I see.’

  Eleyne coloured violently. ‘That’s a vicious thing to say … and not true. I was pregnant, I think. Only I lost it before it was real, and that was my fault. I love John. He is kind and good and caring, and he is my man. I want no other.’ She too stood up. ‘I want no more of this gossip. I understand why you are bitter and unhappy but it’s all your fault. How could you kill Cenydd? He was a good man. I thought you loved him.’

  ‘I did love him, after a fashion.’ Rhonwen was defiant. ‘I did not mean to kill him. He was useful.’ She grimaced. ‘I had never killed a man before. Now I have killed three people.’

  Eleyne closed her eyes. The unease she had felt from the first moment Rhonwen had begun to speak deepened into horror. She looked at Rhonwen for some sign of sorrow or remorse. She saw neither.

  ‘You are in a state of mortal sin,’ she whispered.

  ‘Sin?’ Rhonwen gave a bitter laugh. ‘Maybe. For Cenydd I shall have to pay, one day. For the other two, no. They were robbers, nobodies. Cutting Madoc’s throat was no harder than wringing the neck of a chicken. I’ll not burn in your Christian priests’ hell for them.’

  ‘Oh, Rhonwen.’ Eleyne was despairing.

  ‘You’re shocked. Now our roles are reversed, cariad. Suddenly you’re the dutiful lady and I’m the rebel, in my stolen monk’s cloak and my threadbare shoes.’ She stood very close to Eleyne. ‘I was like a mother to you, you will not forsake me now. You will find a way to go to the king and obtain my pardon. Your English earl does not have to know.’

  ‘Of course he has to know. I won’t deceive him.’

  Rhonwen narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you saying you won’t help me?’

  ‘Of course not! I will help you in every way I can.’

  ‘As long as you don’t have to go to the king.’

  ‘I will try to persuade John – ’

  ‘No, cariad, your earl will not lift a finger for me. He would have me arrested, so I would have to disappear into the forest forever. You would never see me again.’ />
  Eleyne frowned, but not with the fear Rhonwen had hoped to see. She had changed, had learned to live without her. ‘You’ll never find me,’ she repeated, ‘never.’

  ‘Then how will I reach you?’

  ‘You won’t. When you have the pardon I will reach you. The people of the greenwood have their methods.’ The mocking smile deepened. ‘But don’t leave it too long, cariad. I need that pardon.’

  XIII

  Robin threw back his head and laughed. ‘So, your nurse is a forest outlaw, with a string of murders behind her! Does this explain why my lady countess is such a spirited rebel?’

  ‘It’s not funny, Robin. I have to find a way to help her.’ Eleyne had reined in her horse beside him, a pretty merlin on her wrist.

  ‘You have offered her money?’

  ‘Of course.’

  His eyes were shrewd in the bright spring sunlight. Their attendants had drawn back and they could talk alone. ‘Am I right in thinking you don’t necessarily want her back?’

  ‘She frightened me.’ Eleyne sighed. ‘But I want what is best for her. And I want what is best for my husband.’

  ‘He loathes her of course. He has spoken to me about her. You know he thinks she is dead. It might be best if he went on thinking that.’ He wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. ‘Of course, you could always do both. Promise her you will speak to the king when you see him, on condition that she goes as far away as possible, and in the meantime give her enough money to live comfortably in London or Winchester or somewhere far away, under an assumed name.’

  Eleyne stroked the soft russet breast feathers of the bird on her wrist as it settled trustingly against her. ‘It might work.’

  ‘It will work, if you are firm enough. Then you can forget her. John wants to go back to Chester. She won’t dare follow you there.’ He gazed up at the trees, their leaves dappled by the sunlight against a sky of purest sapphire. ‘You know,’ he went on, ‘I almost envy her her life in the forest. At this time of year it must be glorious to acknowledge no master, to lie where you please, to eat the king’s deer till you are too fat to move.’

  ‘I don’t think so. She is afraid, and the nights must be cold and wet and lonely.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it. She will have found herself a man by now.’ He gathered up his reins. ‘Come on, we have a long way to go.’

  XIV

  ‘So you are going to send me away.’ Rhonwen clutched the bag of coins Eleyne had pressed into her hand.

  ‘Only until I can see the king and speak to him about you. You can’t come back with me, you must see that.’

  ‘Oh yes, I see that.’ Rhonwen’s voice was bitter. ‘You dare not upset your husband. You dare not ask him a favour or beg for your old nurse.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t dare, Rhonwen.’ Eleyne tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. ‘It’s that there is no point. He will not relent, and I do not wish to have him upset. He has not been well.’

  ‘Again.’ Rhonwen threw the money on the ground beside her. ‘So you will not be leaving after all?’

  ‘We are, we leave at first light. That is why I wanted to see you, to say goodbye and to promise that I will do my best. There is enough money here to last you a long time. It will buy you a roof and food and a servant wherever you want to go. When you have found somewhere to live, write to me with your address. You must choose another name, a name only you and I will know.’

  Rhonwen looked down at the heavy bundle of coins near her feet. ‘What name shall I choose, cariad?’ she asked with an enigmatic smile.

  Eleyne breathed a sigh of relief. ‘We shall call you Susanna. And you shall be a poet and a scholar, writing to me of matters of deep philosophy and wit. From time to time, when we are at the court in Westminster or Winchester or wherever it is that you are living, I shall call on you privately and buy your books for enormous sums of gold.’

  ‘So you don’t envisage the king giving me a pardon very soon,’ Rhonwen said drily.

  ‘I will try.’ Eleyne kissed her. ‘I promise.’

  ‘But still the earl stands between me and my freedom.’ Rhonwen hesitated, then almost sadly she put her hand into her scrip and pulled out a small linen pouch. ‘To show I am more forgiving than he, I have gathered some herbs in the forest for him, to stop his weakness returning. Infuse these and make him drink them.’

  Eleyne took the pouch and clutched Rhonwen’s hand with a sudden rush of gratitude. ‘I have missed you so much while he has been ill. It was always your medicines which helped him. Thank you.’

  Rhonwen raised an eyebrow.

  ‘So, you have missed me? I was beginning to wonder whether I should do better to forget you. No, don’t swear your undying love. I know you love me, but you have grown up now. You have changed, moved on. You don’t want your nurse with you any more. You are mistress of vast estates. Your husband is a great nobleman. Why should you want your nurse?’ She stooped and scooped up the bundle of money. ‘I shall write to you, cariad, and I shall be there when you need me, have no fear of that.’

  XV

  Eleyne put the bundle of herbs in a small coffer beside her bed. The household was packed and ready to leave. At first light the long train of horses and wagons would wind its way the last dozen or so miles to Chester.

  She smiled at John, already undressed and wrapped in a heavy bed gown, who was sprawled in a chair near the fire. His face was pale and strained, his cough still bad, but he insisted that he was well enough to travel. He longed for the space and comforts of Chester Castle. This small manor house, at first so beautiful and quiet, had become cramped, and it lacked privacy, save in this small bedchamber above the hall. He watched as Eleyne’s maids undressed her and brushed her hair, then he gestured them away. ‘Come and sit by me.’

  She knelt beside him, her head on his knee, and felt his hand gentle on her hair. It was a long time since they had made love.

  ‘Are you happy to be moving on? It has been a hard few weeks for you, here.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘Robin has helped me; I was sad when he left today.’

  John nodded. ‘I trust you’ve not grown too fond of him.’

  Eleyne smiled again. ‘No, I’ve not grown too fond.’ She thought suddenly of the rumours Luned had said were still rife in the hall: that she was unfaithful to the earl. Some of those rumours linked her name with Robin’s for want of another. She reached for his hand. ‘Shall we go to bed, my love? We have a tiring day tomorrow.’

  ‘So eager for your husband? Why not? Call the boy to make up the fire.’

  They made love tenderly, gently, as if each were afraid that the other might break, then John lay back exhausted on the pillows. Suddenly he began to cough. For a few minutes she lay listening to him, then she slipped from the bed and, lighting a taper from the fire, she brought a candle to the bedside. ‘John, are you all right?’ He was coughing convulsively, his whole body racked with the force of the spasms, and a trickle of blood had appeared on his chin. ‘Shall I fetch the physician?’

  He shook his head violently. ‘A drink,’ he gasped, ‘just get me a drink.’

  She ran to the coffer on the far side of the room where a jug of wine had been left with two goblets. With shaking hands she poured a cupful. She managed to raise him and hold the drink to his lips while he swallowed a little, then he lay back. He was pouring with sweat. ‘Stupid,’ he whispered, ‘must have got some dust in my throat.’

  She smiled, setting down the wine. ‘Rest now, I’ll bring you some medicine to soothe your cough.’

  Luned came at once when she called, stoked up the fire and fetched a small cooking pan while Eleyne sorted the herbs from Rhonwen’s pouch. There was wild thyme there, from the sunny hilltops beyond the forest, and cowslips and valerian root, leaves of agrimony and flowers of hawthorn and wormwood and powdered bark of alder. She smelt them, running them through her fingers. There were other things there too, bitter, dark leaves she did not recognise, leaves from the thick f
orest which Rhonwen now called home. She tipped the whole mixture into the boiling water and drew it off the fire to infuse, sniffing the thick earthy smell which came from the brew. John was dozing now, his breathing laboured, the sweat standing on his forehead.

  Luned came over to the bed. ‘Shall I fetch the doctor?’ she whispered.

  Eleyne shook her head. ‘Let him sleep. When he wakes I’ll give him Rhonwen’s medicine. It always soothes him.’

  She lay down beside him, listening to his laboured breathing. Once or twice she slept, jerking awake at his slightest movement as he shifted uneasily on the pillows.

  Dawn came and with it the earl’s chamberlain. He looked at the sleeping man and shook his head. ‘Shall I tell the household we won’t leave today?’ he asked. Eleyne nodded. Servants came and went, tiptoeing about the room as they built the fire and replaced the candles, and at last the physician came with his knives.

  Eleyne stood between him and his patient. ‘You are not going to let his blood, he is too weak.’

  ‘My lady.’ The man clicked his tongue with irritation. ‘It is the only thing which will save him; I have to do it.’

  ‘No. Let him sleep. He will be stronger when he is rested.’

  ‘My lady – ’

  ‘No! Leave us. I won’t have him bled.’

  The man scowled. ‘Then be it on your own head, lady, if he dies.’ He turned and swept out of the room.

  Behind her John stirred. ‘Well done, my love,’ he whispered, ‘a victory indeed.’

  She sat down beside him and took his hand. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Tired.’ He tried to smile. ‘So very tired. Fetch me some wine, and I should like to see the priest.’