Telepathy of Hearts (31 page)

“Oh, my niece blushes this morn
…does she not. A maid no more, pray there will be life in her belly before spring.
” The King was joined in a chuckle by the menfolk.
“
Come sit at my knee for a moment, child
…we were just discussing you
.
”

Eleanor did as asked, and curled up on a stool. She grinned.
“I feel like my hound who curls up at my feet, your Grace.
”

The conversation restarted and so did the arguments. She felt
stares on her. There was no need to turn to see whose
eyes
burnt into her skin. She knew. Just as she knew the hand that touched her shoulder moments later.

“Shall we ride, Wife?
”

Placing hers over his she replied,
“A horse?
”

The head that the hand belonged to leant forward and whispered,
“You are such a surprising delight to me, Eleanor.
”

* * * *

Soon mounted
,
they rode out to the forest. The hounds barked about the destriers
' feet and were rewarded by the blow of a hoof for their intrusion. They sniffed for boar, fox, rabbit or hare. As always Eleanor revelled in the cold crisp air of the outdoors.
“Thank you, Matheus, it is so lovely to greet a morn that only God could deliver,
” she said, thrilled to be out.

“If I am to stop, my Lady Wife naked for the world to see in lakes or rivers, then I must make sure I indulge her need for nature,
” he whispered to her ear as his lips smiled upon it.

Eleanor
was
excited at the thought. Her voice high and animated, she asked,
“Will there be wolves?
”

Pulling her
tighter
to him, Matheus replied,
“No my love, the only wolf today will be the one that sits in my lap and charms me.
”

Godwin and five men rode a stride or so in front of the couple and the rear was brought up by five others. To England, Eleanor was worth a million sovereigns. The safety of the nation depended on her. To Matheus, she was simply everything. Matheus had insisted she r
i
de on Simon with him. Her back to his chest gave him full access to caress and stroke her, his right hand tight around her waist and his left on the reins.

Stretching about her waist, his fingers splayed touching, feeling, caressing. His mouth was on her neck and his breath in her ears.

Eleanor knew she was lost. No ability to go forward, no desire to go back. Just swallowed up in his seduction in the here and now. Sitting upon his lap, his body hard for her, Eleanor
's body was yielding to the knowledge that this was her doing. Her mind now acquiescent to her husband
's touch and feel.

“But what of your heart?
” she heard Matheus
'
s
voice whisper.

Eleanor was quite unsure if he spoke or she did.
They were interrupted by a messenger. Seemingly coming from nowhere, his mount was at their side.
“Sire, pray come quick.
” The messenger boy was quite out of breath. His face scarlet and his voice raspy. As if apparitions, steam rose in the cold crisp air of the pony
's body.

“Godwin, my Lady will ride with you. Stay, you men, with Lady Lincoln.
” Matheus jumped from the saddle and lifted Eleanor clear. Godwin, already dismounted, took he
r in his arms and lifted her on
to his mount.

She was confused as to what was going on. But looking to the deathly pallor to Matheus
's face she knew it to be bleak.
“
Pray Husband, be careful,
” she called after Matheus as he was already galloping away in a flurry of snow.

Some of the hounds made chase after the horse. The others became excited, enjoying the prospect that their Master had picked up a scent. They barked, tails wagging. Save for the bark of the hounds or the crunch of fresh snow under hoof, it was a silent ride home for Eleanor and Godwin.

The faces of the guards who escorted them were story enough to tell Eleanor that when she got back to Lincoln
Castle her husband would be dressing in his harness of armour.

My marriage not a day old. I may be a widow before it is ever consummated.

If it was not a sight that brought her such sorrow, her beautiful husband standing before her harnessed in bright armour would have made Eleanor swoon. The face was sculptured the same. The broad shoulders as always held strength enough for two. But his eyes were focused and ready. Matheus was transformed. He held no wooden sword now. All masculine power and presence, the bull of Lincoln was ready for battle.

Eleanor dropped to her knees before him. Tears spilling down her cheeks and dropping on the flag floor.
“
Please take it
…my heart, you have it
…my Lord stay safe, return to me.
”

Dropping to one knee he lifted her face.
“Death and life have their determined appointments; riches and honours depend upon
H
eaven
.
I was told this as a young Knight. But have faith Eleanor, for as much as I love my God, I am in no haste to see him.
” Stretching his fingers so he could wipe a tear, he winked.
“For I have unfinished business here.
”

She watched
her husband depart
as far as her vision would let her and longer. Holding Gelert tight, she battled her tears. Her body swayed, in part to sooth the pup. But more likely to sooth herself. Lady Bruce and Goody came to her. The ladies sat in protective silence, their sewing on their knees.

Godwin for the first time in ten years would not be his Master
's best man. Matheus had left him to guard his lady.

In the day, she made busy, acting as the Earl in her husband
's stead. In the nights, she would lay her face on the floor at the chapel altar steps, calling upon Mary to guide her husband home. Her rosary beads in hand, she would pray for hours. She kissed the feet of Saint Bernard de
Clairvaux, Singing her praise of him as the patron of knights, until her voice could make sound no more.

Godwin believed that a crow or raven would be the carrier of news of his Master
's death. So he strung up birds to ward them away. Life went on without Matheus for all. But Eleanor, hers was frozen and still.

When the food in the village grew scarce, to make sure the mothers had breast milk to feed their babes, she opened the grain stores. Overruling the counsel of Matheus
' advisors, she stood firm.
“We will not have men come back from battle to find their young and women have starved.
”

She was tired, her eyes heavy and her back bent. There were calluses on her once fine hands. Days turned into weeks. Eleanor looked to the mound. Now there were snow drops where
there
once had been snow angels. Lady Bruce
and Goody were preparing her
bath.

“
Come away from the window, child.
'Tis only sorrow you
'll see on the mound,
” Goody chided with concern in her voice.

Lady Bruce put an arm around her stepdaughter and guided her to the tub.
“You have been working too hard. You are not a woman of labour
…your body is fine and your birthing was high.
”

Eleanor was glad of the comfort. Secretly glad too that Mother Bear had been prevented from leaving with the King. She had been, to Eleanor
's surprise and gratitude, a great comfort these past months. She smiled as she spoke to her stepmother. But it was with tired eyes and strained voice.
“I only do what I should
…these are my people now, and I want Matheus to be proud of me when he is returned to me.
”

“He will have our heads on pikes if it becomes the death of you. Now bathe,
” Goody chided.

Warmed from the bath, her body felt more her own again. With aching muscles soothed and the dirt of graft washed away, she slipped between her bed sheets. Sleep was welcome. But dreaming wasn
't.

Her dreams were plagued by Matheus walking through a hellish mist of orange and red, barely able to put one foot in front of another. Blade in hand and weak with battle, he was staggering. His mouth would open. But she heard no words. Without voice, she knew he commanded her to sing. She would sing him back. But he did not hear her. He would fall to his knees exhausted, pleading with her to sing until he could kneel no more.

Eleanor woke with a shiver. Her blood running cold at her nightly visitor. The thoughts of her lover abandoned and injured still prickling at her nerves. She heard the commotion below her in the great hall. The sound of shod hooves on the cobbles could now be heard quite clearly.
Putting a cloak about her she ra
c
ed to the stairs.

A bramble like knot of pain twisted in her belly. The fear of whether her husband would be alive to meet her was overwhelming. Her legs would not carry her fast enough.

She caught sight of him. Bloodied and battered, her beloved lay still upon the table.

Focus Eleanor, focus; do not let panic grip you.

At the bottom of the stairs her way to him was barred. Two guards crossed their staffs and forbid her entry.

Appealing in panic she shouted and pleaded.
“Let me pass,
'tis my husband, your Lord. I am your Lady
…you cannot deny me in my own house.
”

“Best you go to the chapel and make prayer, my Lady for I am in charge and I serve this knight
's interests.
”
Pike was straight. His spine rigid as he spoke.

“Sir
Pike, he will want of me, my touch
…the comfort of his wife
…to be spoken sweet to by my voice alone. I beg you,
” Eleanor implored him. Bobbing and weaving, trying to find a way to get to her husband. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright with the welling of tears.

It was to no avail.
Pike would not let her comfort and nurse her husband. The way was barred to her and she could not gain access to alert Godwin.

She ran back to her chambers in the solar as fast as her tiny tired frame could manage. Once inside she crossed herself and put her rosary beads in her slip. She went to the glass and kissed St
Crispin.
“
Pray for me Saint
Crispin.
” She crossed herself once more and stood silent in prayer.

Pushing the shield aside she smiled at the sight of the rabbit hole. Only months before her husband had begged her play and she had exited her chambers to his safe charge using this route. This time there would be no guiding hand to help navigate the castle roof.

I am my mother
's daughter, a she-
wolf. I can do this. Matilda, Boudicca, Isabella, Margaret, Eleanor guide me.

Taking her slippers off, she climbed up out of the rabbit hole. It was pitch dark, and she could not see even her hand before her face.
“
'Tis not a time to be fretful Eleanor of Lan
…Lincoln.
” She imagined he spoke to her, his hand holding hers. But as she negotiated the stone palisade she slipped, falling.
“Oh dear God,
” she cried.