Read The Wind From Hastings Online
Authors: Morgan Llywelyn
The Wind From Hastings (14 page)
My brother Edwin was on the road shortly behind
us with his own extensive retinue of Mercians, but for the first time in my life I outranked him. The Archbishop walked with our party, and I believe some of the lesser bishops remained at the gate to watch for the great Earl of Mercia.
us with his own extensive retinue of Mercians, but for the first time in my life I outranked him. The Archbishop walked with our party, and I believe some of the lesser bishops remained at the gate to watch for the great Earl of Mercia.
We were escorted to a sizable house, which was now my brother Morkere's property, and met according to protocol by the new Earl of Northumbria himself. Earldom had not deepened Morkere's voice, but I was surprised to see that it had quieted some of the hungers in his eyes. There was a limit to ambition, then. For some.
“Well come, sister!” He grabbed both my cold hands in his and planted a damp kiss on my cheek. “We have been mightily busy getting all in readiness for this event, and I hope you will overlook ⦔ He waved his hand about him, already very much the grand host begging his guests' indulgence for nonexistent flaws in his hospitality.
“I am sure all will be satisfactory, my lord,” I assured him. Already my eyes were flickering about, starved for the sight of certain small faces. “The children!” I reminded him. “Are they here?”
“Your children? Oh. Yes, I believe they areâbut they are staying with the King, on the other side of the city. I am certain you will see them soon.”
My heart went into my hose. My children were a treat promised me too often; I had almost quit believing in them. And now there would be yet another wait. “Morkere! Can't you arrange to have them brought here? It would give me such pleasure to have a few days to get acquainted with them again before I am wed!”
Harold's captain, Osbert, materialized at my shoulder. “I will fetch them to you myself, my lady,” he said in his quietest voice. “I go this hour to make my report to His Grace, and I am sure that he will let me bring them back with me. I will give him my personal
assurance that you will remain eager to do your sovereign's bidding.”
assurance that you will remain eager to do your sovereign's bidding.”
“Why, thank you, Captain!” I extended my hand for Osbert to kiss and sent him on his way.
“You have won an ally in the King's camp,” observed Morkere, quick to note such things.
“I feel I cannot afford any enemies, brother.”
I was in my chamber with a passel of seamstresses and the head laundress, trying to repair the damage done to my wardrobe by its bath in the Derwent, when I heard the shouting of treble voices in the Hall. I flung my lapful aside and fair flew to meet them.
“Madam, madam!” cried Llywelyn, running toward me. Taller now, and so beautiful, his father's face laughing up into mine! Rhodri forgot what little dignity he may have acquired and shouted “Mama!” as he flung himself into my arms. I dropped to my knees and hugged both of them against me in an ecstasy of relief, smelling the fresh, cold air in their curls and striving not to cry. How big they were grown; what changes the year had wrought!
“There is one more waiting to be kissed, my lady,” said Osbert's voice above me. I looked up and raised my arms for Nesta.
Baby no more, Griffith's daughter was a tiny little girl, as lovely as the legendary princess for whom she was named. In her face I saw nothing of myself, nothing of her father, only a beauty that was uniquely hers. I stared at her, quite in awe of what I had produced.
“She is a flower,” breathed Osbert.
“Will you guard her for me always, Captain?” I asked him as I hugged her. “May I commend my daughter to your care?”
If I had not known it to be impossible, I might have thought the shine in the eyes of the burly Saxon warrior was caused by tears. “I will guard her with my soul, my lady,” he intoned reverently, “and bless you for the honor!”
And so, with a lightened heart, I prepared to meet
Harold in York Minster. The wedding was no more sought by me now than before, but my hours were so gladdened by my children's company that all things seemed bearable.
Harold in York Minster. The wedding was no more sought by me now than before, but my hours were so gladdened by my children's company that all things seemed bearable.
We are still together, I said in my heart to my husband. While I live, I will cherish the lives we created together, my Griffith, and you will always live in them. Harold Godwine will pay for having killed you by raising your children as his wards. The King of England himself will protect the family of Griffith ap Llywelyn!
M
Y CHAMBERS SEEMED to be continually aswarm with peopleâmore tiring women than I could possibly need, pages and squires and maids and courtiers whose names I did not even know. They made the children fretful, so I took Gwladys by the sleeve and asked her to have a word with my brother.
Y CHAMBERS SEEMED to be continually aswarm with peopleâmore tiring women than I could possibly need, pages and squires and maids and courtiers whose names I did not even know. They made the children fretful, so I took Gwladys by the sleeve and asked her to have a word with my brother.
“Which brother, my lady? Earl Edwin or Earl Morkere? They are both in the Great Hall, I think.”
“It really matters not, they are alike as the feet of a toad. Just say that I am tired of all this buzz about me and would prefer to have some peace to enjoy the children.”
Gwladys trotted off on her errand, but she was soon back. “The Earl Edwin bids me tell you that you must grow used to it, for the King's wife is never left alone.”
Here I was again, having my life run according to someone else's custom! “I will not have it! I am used to some privacy. Even at Arundel I did not have to dwell constantly in a room full of people!”
“I will see what I can do, my lady,” said Gwladys
with an air of resignation. But the crowd was never thinned much.
with an air of resignation. But the crowd was never thinned much.
At Rhuddlan, the only sound in our chamber at night was his breathing, and mine.
The weather worsened. The days dawned cold and cloudy, with a bitter wind blowing down on us from Scotland. People dressed in the heaviest clothes they owned, and in my overcrowded chamber I was painfully aware of the odors of too many folk closeted together.
Then came a morning when the wind died down, the sun shone warm, and people stood packed together in the streets like birds in a pie.
It was the wedding day of the King of England.
Gwladys and the tiring women began working on me before cockcrow, as soon as I finished my morning prayers. First came a full bath, accomplished while I stood shivering and naked in a metal tub as an endless parade of servants carried leathern buckets of heated water to be poured over my body. I alternated between scorching and freezing. Bathing is, I think, a custom for the summer months, a pleasant dalliance in fern-fringed pools. But not in drafty, stone-floored halls in March!
At last Gwladys pronounced my tortures at an end, and a herbalist brought baskets of sweet-scented plants to rub my body dry. Then I was rubbed all over again, with scented oils, exotic and rare. Only when every inch of my skin was glowing pink and excessively perfumed did they begin to dress me.
Two shifts went on first: one of fine silk, next to my skin, and a glittering overshift of cloth of gold. Next the heavy green velvet cotte, and around my waist a girdle of gold and rubies, sent by the King. Now that I was warm again I could take some interest in the process; the girdle was exactly the span of my waist, and I wondered how Harold had come by it.
My hose were of wool, white and very soft. Shoes of buttery kidskin had been dyed to match my gown.
A heady scent of cinnamon rose from the folds of the velvet as my body heated it, vying with the odors of the perfumes until my head spun. When I was clothed, Gwladys arranged my hair. I could hardly appear in the flowing tresses of a maiden, so it was plaited and coiled into two huge rolls, then fastened in gold nets over my ears. There was one part of me that would be warm in the March wind!
My face had been treated with masks of almond paste and honey, and my lips were rubbed with the lees of red wine. A massive collar of pearls replaced the gold Celtic torque I customarily wore; a cloak of forest green velvet lined with red squirrel was fastened around my shoulders. I was ready to go to the York Minster.
Attended by a vast retinue, our party walked and rode through the streets of the city. I was in an open litter, that all might see my face and any smiles I chose to give them, so I was generous in that regard. Crowds pressed upon us, laughing and toasting me with cups of ale. Though it was not yet midday, the people of York were more than a little drunk already. My soon-to-be subjects had, perhaps, more to celebrate than I.
Archbishop Eldred greeted me on the steps of the York Minster, a magnificent poem in stone that dwarfed the buildings around it. On his arm, with my brothers at either side, I entered the cathedral to meet Harold.
“I present you to your King,” said Eldred formally to me.
He was standing, quite alone, before the high altar. He had dressed for his wedding in a richly embroidered tunic, fine hose and leather shoes stamped with gold. A magnificent cloak of ermine hung from his broad shoulders; a crown of gold and gems rode his fair hair. It was the first time I had seen him thus crowned.
His face wore its permanent burn from sun and wind that made his eyes seem such a brilliant blue.
There was no tenderness in that face, no womanly softness or flame of poetry. But I could not mistake the strength that lay there, nor the proud nobility. I felt sure my hatred of Harold Godwine had not diminished, but I felt a tiny twinge of satisfaction that he was so fair to see.
The ceremony itself passed quickly. The marriage settlement had all been agreed upon in advance between Harold and my brothers, the wedding gifts exchanged, and the scroll of ownership for my dower house handed over to my keeping. Nothing remained but the speeches by which my brothers announced their intention of giving me to Harold and Eldred's blessing on behalf of the church.
The gift of myself was accepted by the regal figure in white ermine, who then held out his hand to me. When I took it, he forced a heavy golden ring upon my finger, then pulled me down to kneel with him before Eldred. Wulfstan took Harold's crown in trembling fingers as the Archbishop of York anointed us both with holy oil; then we rose again and faced the crowd of people packed into the cathedral.
Wulfstan replaced the crown on the King's head, and a velvet cushion, upon which another, smaller golden circlet lay, was handed Harold. He took this with great solemnity and lifted it high for all the people to see. Then he set it on my head, saying in a loud voice, “From this day forward thou art Aldith, First Lady of England!”
I was so shocked at hearing him call me by my Welsh name that my eyes flew open wide. That was a gift I had not expected, and it touched me more than any other could. My heart raced in my breast. I tried to turn my head a little and look at Harold, but the unexpected weight of the crown reminded me of my new dignity and I looked forward instead.
Then I received my second shock. In the first row of upturned faces was that of Gytha, Harold's mother, and beside her stood Harold himself! No, not Harold,
but a young man barely come to beard, so like him as to have been Harold himself at that age. He could only be Harold's son, mayhap by Edith Swan Neck, come to witness his father's marriage to another woman. My heart went out to him for whatever pain he might be feeling, but, like his father, he kept his secrets closed behind his face.
but a young man barely come to beard, so like him as to have been Harold himself at that age. He could only be Harold's son, mayhap by Edith Swan Neck, come to witness his father's marriage to another woman. My heart went out to him for whatever pain he might be feeling, but, like his father, he kept his secrets closed behind his face.
The Archbishop gave a lengthy benediction which brought us all a-yawn, then we left the cathedral to a flourish of trumpets. A group of horses was being held at the foot of the minster steps. Harold gripped my arm with fingers like stone and guided me through the crowd toward them. He swung into the saddle of a restive chestnut stallion with an astonishing grace for a man of forty years, then held down a brawny arm to me and effortlessly pulled me up to sit behind him. People cheered; his courtiers mounted, and our wedding processional wound through the streets to the Archbishop's manor and our wedding feast.
The opulence of Eldred's house spoke much for the man. Not for him the simple life of Christian poverty and humility; Eldred of York dined on gold plate much more finely wrought than that of the Earl of Wessex at Arundel, and his servants were so numerous I never saw a face more than once.
The oaken table set in the center of the Hall seated two score to a side, and it was so weighted down with food that no part of the wood showed. Our party drank the King's health in wooden goblets chased with gold while Harold drank from his own goblet, a legacy of the great Alfred. The banquet was lavish in the extreme. We began with eels stewed in milk, then beautiful whole salmon from Chester and thin wheaten cakes. There were three roast boars, swans, herons dressed with green peppers, jellied lambs' heads and joints of fatted beef. An endless stream of dishes from the Archbishop's kitchens provided pastries, blood puddings, cheeses with loaves of white bread (I never saw such before!), compotes of fruit
and honey. The cooks must have much practice, I thought, to be able to mount such a royal feast.
and honey. The cooks must have much practice, I thought, to be able to mount such a royal feast.
The butlersâthere were two: Harold's own, who traveled everywhere with him, and Eldred'sâkept our goblets filled with ale, perry, mead, and some sour red wine from the Continent that Harold seemed to favor. As he poured it down his throat, I hoped, fleetingly, that perhaps he would be too drunk to claim his bride this night. But it was a foolish hope. The man's capacity was enormous. He drank more than any at table and did not show it by so much as a reddening of the face.
As each new food was presented he courteously selected the most choice morsel and offered it to me. I obediently ate from his fingers, seeing the approving nods of his courtiers from the corner of my eye. But my appetite was small, and my own hip-knife never attacked the fowls or the joint.
Harold lingered long at table, laughing at the coarse wedding jokes and responding in kind. If any of the ribald humor offended the Archbishop of York, he gave no sign; he laughed as loudly as my brothers when sly references were made to our activities a few hours hence.
When the torches began to smoke and servitors were carrying the remainders of the meal and trenchers of bread soaked with meat juices to the crowd outside, the King rose and took my hand. “We will take our leave of you now. Pray continue to enjoy yourselves with our excellent host, the good Archbishop”âhe nodded to Eldred, who had fat glistening on his chinâ“and we will bid you good morrow.”
As I rose, my eyes met those of Gytha, hostile as ever, though a smile wreathed her thin lips. “Good night, Your Grace, and may your evening prove fruitful.”
Bitch, I thought. The greatest pleasure I will have this night is the knowledge that a woman, you loathe shares your son's bed!
Minstrels continued to play, men continued to drink and roister, laughter rang to the rafters as the King's housecarles lighted us to our nuptial chamber. I was surprised to see that Harold had forbidden the usual press of laughing friends and relatives; he gave a certain dignity to an occasion which was usually far from dignified.
My tiring womenâbut not Gwladysâawaited me. They took me into a garderobe let off the chamber and there dressed me in the silk shift and golden corselet of a bridenight. My hair was loosed and combed to wave down my back; then I was returned to the King.
Our nuptial chamber was not just a sleeping apartment, but a timbered room as big as a cottage. A roaring fire had been fed sweet herbs, and the smoke that curled upward to the smoke openings was rich and fragrant. A giant bedstead held a stack of feather mattresses covered with new linen and hung round with velvets bearing the device of the Godwines. Chests and armor were piled roundabout; a brace of greyhounds dozed by the fire. At one glance you could tell it was a King's chamber.
His body servants had dressed him in a robe of plain linen so finely woven that the outline of his body showed quite clear. I kept my eyes cast firmly down. I was alone with Griffith's killer. Had I still my girdle and hip-knife I might have slain him then and avenged my love in the Welsh way, but his housecarles would have killed me without hesitation, and my children would not have outlived me by a day. Their futures and their safety depended on my going through with this.
“And now, Aldith, you are Lady of England. What say you?”
“I give you thanks for bestowing upon me the name. I prefer, my lord,” I said as humbly as I could, still looking down.
He did not move toward me. “You were surpassing
beautiful today in the sunlight. I had almost forgot how fair you are!” Did he intend, then, to woo me as a loved one? Such pretense was beyond me. I would force myself to keep the letter of our marriage contract, but I would bring no womanly tenderness to the thing!
beautiful today in the sunlight. I had almost forgot how fair you are!” Did he intend, then, to woo me as a loved one? Such pretense was beyond me. I would force myself to keep the letter of our marriage contract, but I would bring no womanly tenderness to the thing!
Harold reached out and touched me then, and I felt my unwilling flesh shrink away from him. His eyes darkened suddenly as I looked up, becoming narrow slits above his bared teeth. In the firelight he looked like a savage golden wolf.
“It is that way, is it, madam?”
“I cannot pretend a feeling for you, Your Grace. You know this was no love match!”
His laugh was harsh. “Nay, Aldith, no love match. But I did fear your spirit was broken and you would be a dull thing to bed. I am glad to see I was wrong.”
Before I could move away, his hand shot out and grabbed my shift, jerking me to him. His other hand clutched my hair and pulled my head back. The eyes that glared down into mine were not tender, but they were not indifferent, either. They were hot as blue coals, and I remembered with a pang what joy the Vikings take in rape! Better for me if I had been humble and submissive!
The strength of the man was enormous. He ripped my shift from my body and hurled it away, holding me impaled on that hot blue gaze as he would impale me on his giant body. Truly I was terrified! He was hurting me wantonly, and he would hurt me more!
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