The Confession of Piers Gaveston (16 page)

Ignoring their cries of “Piers, you care nothing for your family!” I went to join the game of Hoodman Blind and positioned myself behind Isabelle.

“You must let him catch you!”

Isabelle stared coldly back at me. “Why must you forever mock me? You know it is not me he wants to catch!”

“Then you must make him want to!” I said and shoved her straight into Edward’s arms.

Those standing round applauded to see the Queen in the King’s arms and I withdrew quickly, before Edward could take off the hood and notice me, and stepped out into the courtyard to let the clean, crisp winter air refresh me.

The snow lay like an ermine blanket upon the flagstones. Some of the palace servants and guards were having a celebration of their own around a small bonfire. They sang and passed around a flagon of ale while a serving wench handed out meat pasties and honey cakes. I heard a woman’s shrill, happy giggle and saw movement in the shadows against the castle wall. I smiled as I drew my mot-ley-colored mantle close about me and shook back the colored streamers on my cap, causing the little golden bells to jingle.

“Piers!” I turned at Edward’s voice calling my name.

“Oh Edward!” I wailed. “Isabelle was in your arms! What happened?”

“It was her turn to be Hoodman, so I put the hood over her head and came to find you!” I saw lust dancing in his eyes. “Perrot,” he softly crooned, “I have something for you!”

“Please tell me it is not another parrot,” I said warily.

“No!” He giggled and showed me a sprig of holly. He held it above my head and leaned in swiftly to kiss me. “There now, is that not a pleasing trick?”

“Indeed, though it should rightly be mistletoe.”

“Nay, love,” Edward shook his head adamantly, “do not speak of mistletoe! The Church will not have it, it is an evil, idolatrous plant; the Druids favored it and used it in their rituals. Far better to have the holly, its sharpened leaves and red berries will ever remind us of the crown of thorns placed upon Christ’s head and the blood He shed for us.”

“To my own beliefs I shall cling true, Edward, and you to yours. And, now, let us forget it; it is not a night for Christian and Pagan to parry! Indeed, it is a most pleasing trick and you must show it to your Queen! Come!” I took his arm and guided him back to the doorway.

“Nay, Perrot,” Edward hung back, “I would rather into the shadows with you!”

“But you shall not! I am Lord of Misrule and tonight you are mine to command!”

“I have always been yours to command!” Edward protested, trying to get his arms around me again.

“Then you must into the light with your holly sprig and show this charming trick to your Queen! The passion you would give me, give to her tonight,” I urged, giving him a little push. “I both desire it and command it!”

“Forsooth, Piers, it is a bitter medicine you would have me take!” Edward whined, staring sullenly at Isabelle. “And at Christmas too! It is most unkind of you!”

“And after the bitterness comes the honey,” I reminded him. “Come to me tomorrow and I shall chase all the bitterness away! But remember, be passionate! If you are cold to her, I shall be cold to you!”

“Then I shall be hot as the fires of Hell!” he vowed and ran back inside.

He seized hold of Isabelle and ripped the hood from her head. With it came her amethyst spangled coif. Her white-blonde hair tumbled down her back and Edward twined his fingers in it as he drew her close to him. He showed her the holly sprig then held it aloft and kissed her heartily.

Isabelle was delighted, all the coldness and anger melted from her, and I saw the love and desire clear upon her face as she returned his kiss wholeheartedly.

Edward swept her up into his arms and spun around wildly, his head thrown back, laughing all the while, until I feared he would fall down dizzy or drop Isabelle, and then he carried her from the hall and up the stairs to resounding applause. The court was ecstatic! This Christmas it seemed the Queen had triumphed over The Gascon!

Watching from the doorway, I smiled and, with a nod of approval, lifted the Lord of Misrule’s crown from my head. And, swinging it by its colorful streamers, I went alone to my bed.

SCOTLAND
 

The lofty peers of England finally lost what little of their patience was left and, led by Warwick, Lancaster, Lincoln, and Pembroke, they swore a solemn oath to right the many wrongs afflicting the land and rid it of my evil and lascivious presence. Banded together, twenty-one strong, they dubbed themselves the Lords Ordainers and presented Edward with a list of grievances and the Ordinances by which they proposed to correct them.

Verily, they want everything but to sit upon the throne and call themselves “King!” If Edward accedes to their demands, all the power will be in their hands and he will count for nothing. He will be a puppet and they the masters who pull the strings and make him dance to their tune. If they have their way, they will control the royal household. Edward will not be able to appoint or dismiss servants, courtiers, or officials, depart the realm, declare war, or give gifts, not even trifles, without their consent. Nor will he be able to issue pardons or orders of protection. And any doubtful points of Law will be left entirely to their interpretation.

As for the “evil male sorcerer who has enslaved the poor besotted King,” I must be deprived of all the honors Edward has “wantonly and recklessly” lavished upon me and be banished perpetually from the realm.

Edward promised to accept without quarrel, comment, or question all Ordinances concerning himself and his kingdom as long as I be allowed to remain, my position unaffected, at his side, but to this they would not agree.

As Pembroke rightly said: I “engross His Majesty’s attention to the exclusion of all else.”

“But nothing else is of interest to me!” Edward exclaimed, hoping to rouse Pembroke’s sympathy.

“Does Your Majesty think that those who reign after you, England’s future kings, will take pleasure in knowing that they have lost the power that should rightfully have been theirs because of your passion for that wanton, wicked Gaveston?” Pembroke asked, stalwart and unmoved.

It was at that point that Edward decided we should face our problems by running away from them, it having suddenly occurred to him that he had neglected affairs in Scotland far too long.

A victory, he hoped, would put a stop to all this talk of Ordinances.

But I saw something more, one last chance, one final hope for me to grasp at. If I could succeed in Scotland as I had in Ireland perhaps a new door would open for me. But it was not meant to be, and I should have known that from the start.

Heedless of the fact that all of them possessed lands in Scotland that required protection lest they be taken by the Bruce, Warwick, Lancaster, Lincoln, and Pembroke all refused to marshal their forces and march with us, and many other noblemen followed their example. All of them were willing to defy a royal command and risk their lands rather than fight alongside me. Their decision stands testament to how greatly I was despised and how little Edward was respected.

While Edward made his headquarters at Berwick, I rode out with an army two hundred strong, harrying the countryside as far as Perth and the Grampian Mountains, and even leading a foray into the Ettrick Forest. But the wily Scots refused to engage, fleeing afore us and hiding in the marshes and mountains. Edward tried vainly to negotiate with Robert the Bruce, but he would not consent to a meeting lest he be taken captive. And while we endeavored to lure the Scots into battle the Bruce dispatched a party of raiders into northern England to rape and pillage. Thus I returned to Berwick weary, frustrated, and heart-sore, knowing no one would appreciate my efforts.

I found Edward slumped and yawning over his map and parchment covered desk.

“My Lord,” I said from the doorway, “your general has come to make his report.”

Edward looked past me, a quizzical frown furrowing his brow when he saw no one standing behind me.

“I have come to give my report,” I clarified.

Before I went to him I had gone first to my quarters. Fastidious creature that I am, I wanted a hot bath and a change of clothes. That was a mistake. If I had gone to him sweat-stained and stinking instead of immaculate and fresh in damask the reddish-purple of a plum with pendant pearls dripping like tears from my

silver belt he might have received me differently.

Grinning broadly, Edward pushed back his chair.

“And I am eager to hear it! Come sit on my lap!”

When I hesitated, Edward reached out and drew me round the desk and onto his lap.

“There now; isn’t this nice? Couldn’t you sit like this all day?”

“I daresay I could,” I shrugged, “provided Your Majesty does not stand up, of course.”

Edward laughed so hard he nearly shook me off his lap.

“Well now, did you face the Scots in battle?” he asked.

“No,” I shook my head and sighed. “We tried, but they would not engage. My spies report that they fear my witchcraft and believe I have the power to summon storms.”

“Most interesting!” Edward nodded, his hand steadily advancing up my thigh to steal beneath my tunic’s hem.

“Edward,” I shifted my position in an attempt to dislodge his hand, “wouldn’t you like to hear about our foray into the Ettrick Forest?”

“Nay, love, I find it tiresome!”

He stood up and set me on the desk. And then he was upon me, all eager hands and questing lips.

“Edward!” I twisted my face aside and struggled to sit up; an inkwell was pressing painfully into my back. “What of the Grampian Mountains then?” I persisted.

“Well what of them?” Edward snapped. “I find mountains even more tiresome than forests! Hush now, my sweet Perrot, your mouth is far too beautiful to talk of these dreary matters! Don’t you know God fashioned it solely for the pleasures of love and the passion of kisses?”

Never in my life have I felt more like a whore, not even when I sought custom in the taverns and bathhouses and held out my hand for the coins before I lowered my hose. I felt so worthless lying there with the inkwell pressing into my back and Edward pressing into me that I would gladly have welcomed death if it would set me free.

Afterwards, when Edward sat back in his chair, grinning like a fool, his eyes glassy with lust sated, I sat up, rubbing my back, and began to put right my clothes. It was then that I saw his seed pooled and glimmering upon the maps and dispatches and I felt sick to my very heart. How could this, what he had just done to me, mean everything and his crown and kingdom nothing? And in that moment I fell out of love. Once and for all, I said goodbye to the boy I had loved and admitted that into this man he had been completely submerged like a poor drowned soul lost at sea. Any glimmer of his shade I might glimpse was but an illusion, a ghost from the past come to tempt and torment me with tender memories of what had been but could never be again. The Edward I loved was gone.

I rose unsteadily and, without a word or a backward glance, I left him.

As I walked down the corridor, lined with soldiers and messengers waiting to see the King, I felt sick with shame when I saw the way they looked at me. Their animosity and contempt was so palpable it seemed to squeeze all the air from my lungs. They knew what had just happened and that they had been made to wait while Edward had his way with me. Some whistled and puckered their lips in mocking kisses and called me “Pretty Piers.” I forced myself to hold my head up high as I walked past them. Let them call me arrogant and peacock proud! But once I was beyond their gaze I had to hug the wall for support until I reached my chamber and staggered inside. I fell to my knees beside the bed and groped beneath it for the night-pot and vomited.

I wanted so much to remain in Scotland as Edward’s lieutenant, to take charge of the campaign and match my wits against the Bruce. Had I been allowed to, my story might have had a different end. But the men’s reception of me killed what little hope I had left. Even if by some miracle I had persuaded Edward, the moment he left me alone with them … I trembled at the thought of what might befall me. Would they kill me outright or pass me amongst them like a common whore to put me in my place? And if I fell into Scottish hands I would be burned as a witch unless the lure of the ransom Edward would pay proved more powerful than their rampant superstitions.

When Edward came to me I was lying curled up on my bed. Agnes had covered me with a fur blanket and sat beside me stroking my hair and holding a goblet of mulled wine that I, from time to time, sat up shakily to sip.

Slowly I stood up to face him.

“Your favor has destroyed me! I have tried to make a life for myself, but you will not let me! I realize now that I shall never know peace of mind or respect as long as I stay with you, therefore, I must seek it elsewhere! I am weary of being your Principal Provider of Entertainment, Edward, your Lord of Misrule! When we return to England I shall set my affairs in order and then into exile I shall go! I must learn from my mistakes and make a new life for myself! I need to rebuild the walls and lock up my heart again; the only way I can survive is to teach myself to feel nothing again!”

We quarreled violently. I said such awful, ugly, bitter things to him, yet every one of them was true. We screamed, shouted insults, abuse, and curses, wept tears enough to rival a rainstorm, and threw things until the room looked as if a storm had swept through it. At last Edward ran weeping from the room to have his physician apply leeches to his temples.

That night as I lay wakeful and restless in my moonlight-flooded chamber Edward came to me. He stood gazing down at me then tentatively bent and placed a kiss upon my bare shoulder. When I did not protest he lay down beside me.

“Why do we say such terrible things to one another?” he asked softly.

“The truth is often ugly and unkind, Edward, yet it must be faced. No one can run away from it forever, not even a king.”

“What is to become of us?” he wondered.

And in all honesty I answered: “I do not know.”

It was the only night we ever lay together sleepless and in chastity.