Enchantress Mine (31 page)

“When the king first knighted me I could not decide upon a motto for my future family. Only recently have I made that decision. The words I will emblazon upon my shield will read,
Honor Above All.
I have tried all my life to live by those words. I cannot change now even for the love of you, Mairin of Aelfleah.”

“I could not be happy with you, Josselin, if you did. Men like to believe that honor is something belonging only to them, but women, too, have their honor. When my stepmother sent me from my home she dishonored not only my father’s name and memory, but my mother’s name and memory as well. One day I will right that wrong.”

“Have you proof that she testified falsely against you? If you do the king will see that your lands in Brittany are returned to you.”

“I have the proof,” she answered him. “I always did. But Dagda said we were safer leaving Brittany for my stepmother would not rest until my lands were her child’s. Even if it meant committing murder. I have lived most of my life an Englishwoman and so I do not seek my father’s lands, Josselin, because I have Aelfleah. Yet I do want to clear my mother’s name.”

All the while she had spoken she had stood within his embrace. Now he gently released her, and set her back so he might look into her face. His eyes gleamed with love. “You are everything I have always sought in a wife,” he said, “and now I know why I have never loved another. To have loved any woman less than you would have rendered valueless the love I have for you. If it be necessary I will do battle for you. Only you will be my wife. I will have no other!”

W
illiam of Normandy had declared all along that he would be crowned in London on Christmas Day. He was not, however, able to enter the city of London itself until just a few days before his coronation. Hastings had not been an automatic entrée to all of England, and there were yet strong pockets of resistance against William.

Josselin de Combourg and his party did not arrive in the great city until December 24th. Mairin told him of the small house located on the edge of the town owned by Aelfleah manor and they immediately realized how providential such a dwelling was for the city was filled with those who had come to see the new king crowned. Since housing was at a premium, they were fortunate the little house had not already been confiscated to shelter some Norman lord. They found William at the archbishop of York’s London residence.

“Ho, Josselin de Combourg!” The king’s usually stern features were relaxed this day. “Have you so quickly subdued the manor I gave you that you can come to see me crowned?” He held out his hand in friendship, and Josselin grasped it with a smile.

Then he turned to greet those closest to William. His half-brother, Odo, the bishop of Bayeux. William FitzOsbern, the king’s steward. Robert, Count of Eu. Robert de Beaumont, William de Warenne, and Hugh de Montfort. “There was nothing to subdue, my lord. I was welcomed at Aelfleah. Had it been necessary for me to subdue the manor it would now be done. I would not miss your greatest hour of triumph.”

“Then you are welcome, and those who come with you also,” said William. “You may present them to us, Josselin.”

Josselin drew Eada forward. She had worn her very best winter gown for this occasion, but now she wondered if the fine-spun indigo blue wool was suitable, or if she looked like the bumpkin she felt. At least, she thought, my garnets are the best to be had.

“My lord, I present to you the lady Eada, widow of your loyal ally Aldwine Athelsbeorn.”

Eada curtsied low, her skirts blossoming upon the gray stone floor about her, her dark red head dressed with its coronet of braids bowed in perfect homage. She did not realize just how pretty she looked or that her sweet smile reminded the others in the room of the wives they had had to leave behind in Normandy.

“I am pleased to learn, my lady, of Aelfleah’s gentle submission to this good knight. You need have no fears of being uprooted from your home for I have charged Josselin de Combourg with your care.”

“I thank your majesty,” said Eada. “Your loyal knight has been kind to both me and my beloved daughter.”

“Your daughter?”
William looked genuinely puzzled. “I was not aware that you had a daughter, my lady.”

The other men in the room now found themselves interested by the exchange going on, and the bishop of Bayeux could see that Josselin’s eyes were bright with humor as he answered the king’s query.

“Sire, may I present to you the
Heiress of Aelf leah,
the lady Mairin Aldwinesdotter. Therein, my liege, lies a problem that only you can solve for we both claim the lands in question. She by the legitimate right of inheritance. I by right of your majesty’s conquest of England.”

The king was decidedly curious. “Come forward, Mairin of Aelfleah,” he said, “and let me see you.”

Mairin moved from her place beside Josselin, coming forward to stand before the king. With a deliberate motion she pushed back the richly furred hood of her nut-brown woolen cloak to reveal her extraordinarily beautiful face framed by its red-gold hair which was barely restrained by finely carved gold hairpins studded with pearls, small emeralds, and crystals. The soft hiss of admiration that echoed through the room did not distract her in the least. She curtsied, but the king could see there was little submission in the gesture, only politeness.

William stared hard at her for a long moment. He could not ever remember having seen such a lovely girl. She was extremely well dressed. Her deep green silk tunic was buttoned modestly at the neckline with small pearls, and fell just below her knee and was worn over an undertunic of rich yellow wool. The sleeves of her gown were long and wide and embroidered with gold and blue metallic thread bands along the edges. About her waist was a girdle of gold plaques enameled in scarlet, blue, and green, and around her neck she wore a thick gold rope necklace with a circular pendant of rubies and pearls. In her ears were small pear-shaped pearls, and upon her fingers were several rings.

Slowly he let his eyes travel the length of her, realizing she was almost his height. Unlike his wife who was extremely tiny in stature, Mairin could look him directly in the eye. His life had frequently depended upon his ability to make quick judgments. Looking at Mairin he saw before him a well-to-do young woman, and realized that his gift to his loyal Josselin was perhaps greater than he had intended. He could not, of course, take it back now.

Focusing his gray-blue eyes his gaze met that of the girl. It was a proud gaze, but beyond it he saw the worry. She feared for herself. For her mother. And for the lands which were the greater part of her value to a future husband. She had every right to be worried, he thought. I have casually given away her inheritance to a stranger seemingly without care for her. That is not right. Still I have given my word to my old friend that the manor is his. “Well, Mairin of Aelfleah, we do indeed have a problem,” he said. “What say you?”

“Your majesty could give me in marriage to Josselin de Combourg, for Aelfleah is my dowry. It would seem, my lord William, a fair and sensible solution,” she answered him boldly.

The men about them chuckled, eyeing the young knight with amused approval.

“You are not promised, lady? I cannot believe that.”

“I am a widow, sire. My husband is dead these past ten months.”

“Who was he?”

“Prince Basil Ducas. He was the Emperor Constantine’s cousin. I was married to him while my father was in Constantinople negotiating a trade treaty between England and Byzantium. I hope your majesty will continue to honor that treaty, for it is greatly to England’s advantage. With my husband’s sudden and unexpected death I returned home to England with my mother. As I was in mourning and England was on the brink of war, it was not a propitious time to consider another marriage. Then my father and brother were killed fighting Harold Hardraade.”

He nodded. “You would be willing to marry Josselin de Combourg? He has told you of his birth?”

“Yes, sire, he has been forthright with me, and I with him.”

“What is it that you must confess, lady? I cannot believe that anyone so fair should have a stain on her soul.”

“Josselin has said that I must tell your majesty my entire history before a decision can be made regarding our fate, and the disposition of the manor of Aelfleah. I have agreed.”

“
Honor Above All,
eh, Joss?” said the king in a gently mocking tone.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Very well then, Mairin of Aelfleah, say on.”

“I am not the natural-born daughter of Aldwine Athelsbeorn, and his wife, Eada, sire. They adopted me as their child when their only daughter died. It was all quite legal, and within the Anglo-Saxon code. I was designated my adoptive father’s heiress should there be no other heirs of his blood. When my brother, Brand, was killed at York I became Heiress of Aelfleah.

“I was born in Brittany. My father, Ciaran St. Ronan, was the Sieur de Landerneau. My mother, his first wife, Maire Tir Connell, a princess of Ireland, died shortly after my birth. When I was a small child my father remarried. My stepmother was with child when father was killed in an accident, and she arranged with her uncle, a bishop, to have me declared bastard-born so that I could not inherit my father’s lands. An hour after my father’s death she sold me to a passing slave trader who brought me to England where Aldwine Athelsbeorn saw me, and purchasing my freedom brought me home to Aelfleah. I was just six years old. That is my history, my lord William.”

“You make serious charges, Mairin of Aelfleah. Not only against your father’s widow, but against a bishop of the holy church,” said the king. “I realize that you were a child when these things transpired, but could you still not have proved your claim if indeed you were legitimate?”

Mairin turned, and beckoned to Dagda, who came forward to kneel before William. “This is Dagda, my lord. He was my mother’s servant, and has protected me all these years. The explanation to your question is his to make. May he speak?”

“Rise, Dagda,” said the king. “You have my permission to continue your lady’s tale.”

The big Irishman arose, and in his deep, commanding voice said, “I have the proof.” He reached into his tunic to draw forth a folded piece of yellowed parchment which he carefully opened and spread out for the king to read. “These are the marriage lines of the lady Mairin’s parents, sire. They were entrusted to me by my lord St. Ronan shortly before he died. In the days following I kept them on my person for safety’s sake. Had I dared to show this proof of my lady’s true birth I believe that neither the widow of St. Ronan nor her bishop uncle would have hesitated to kill the lady Mairin, for they meant to have the St. Ronan lands at any cost.

“Aldwin Athelsbeorn knew the truth and agreed with me that she must be protected. We did what I believed was right, sire. It is hard for any child to be bastard-born, but it is harder for a maiden than a lad.”

The king nodded in agreement. “So,” he said, “Mairin of Aelfleah is also an heiress in Brittany. What say you, Joss? Would you stay in England, or would you go home to Brittany?”

“Sire.” It was Mairin who spoke. They looked at her in surprise.

“My lady?” The king gave her leave to speak for the urgency in her voice startled him.

“I do not want my lands in Brittany, sire. My half-sister is innocent of the wickedness her mother committed. She should not suffer for it. I am the heiress of Aelfleah. It is enough!”

The king looked as if he might argue the point with her. No one could ever have enough lands, but of course a woman wouldn’t understand that.

Then the king’s brother, Odo, the bishop of Bayeux, said quietly, “This is a scandal not worth making, William. The lady Mairin has been careful not to mention names, but I know of whom she speaks. We have many good Breton knights who have helped contribute to your victory. The pope himself has aided you. I think we would be wise not to incur any enmity.

“The cleric in question is long dead of his own vile excesses. As for the
lady,
she has no dowry of her own. Having bartered the lands in question to gain her own daughter a respectable match, she lives in retirement, a pensioner in her eldest brother’s house. It is hardly an enviable position for a woman yet young. The lady Mairin shows a generous nature in true Christian fashion, my brother. Can we expect any less from you who are as loyal and good a son of the church?”

William of Normandy snorted with amused affection. “Now,” he said, “I know why mother put you with the church, Odo.”

The handsome young bishop smiled. “The church,” he said in a pious tone, “is in the blood of this family even as is conquest.”

The king laughed, and flinging up his hands said, “I cannot argue with you, Odo. We must settle this question of the manor of Aelfleah, its heiress, and its new lord whom I appointed not knowing of its heiress.”