To Defy a King (44 page)

A green tassel bearing a wax impression of Hugh's seal dangled from the parchment in the Earl's hand.

'What has happened?' Mahelt suppressed the urge to snatch it from him.

The messenger licked his lips and looked apprehensively at his lord.

'There has been a battle between our forces and the French,' said the Earl, shaking his head. 'For us it has been a disaster . . .'

'Hugh,' Mahelt said in a strained voice. 'Not Hugh . . .'

'Hugh is safe. He was with the King in Poitou and not involved in the fighting . . . but Ralph is taken for ransom and the Earl of Salisbury too.' His eyes were bleak. 'Nine thousand dead on the battlefield.'

'Holy God.' Mahelt crossed herself.

'Hugh is on his way home,' the Earl said in a voice steely with control. 'Go to,' he told the messenger. 'Find food and take rest. I shall need you to ride again in a while.'

Mahelt gestured to a groom to take care of Roger and followed her father-in-law into his solar. He dropped into his cushioned chair and rubbed his face. 'It is a disaster for the King,' he said, 'a disaster for us all.'

'At least Hugh was not involved and even if Ralph and Longespee are prisoners, they are not among the dead.' She spoke bravely even while her stomach was hollow.

Roger gave her a jaundiced look. 'Yes, God is merciful; He has spared my sons, but many soldiers of my affinity are among the dead. There will be empty saddles and widowed women and orphaned children. There will be ransoms to pay, and they will cost more than a bag of beans.'

'What about the Countess?'

Roger's mouth tightened and turned down at the corners. 'You tell her,' he said with a brusque gesture. 'I have too much to deal with here. She will take it better from you than from me.'

Mahelt compressed her lips. Had it been her own family in this situation, she knew her father would make the time to tell her mother, and they would face the problem together. 'Sire, I think you should be the one--'

His eyes flashed. 'For once can you not do as you are told without kicking in the shafts?'

Mahelt's cheeks scorched. She wanted to retort that someone had to if this matter was to be dealt with decently, but knew it would provoke a full-blown quarrel on the subject of what was and was not decent, and she would lose because his word was law. Lips tightly folded, she flourished him an elaborate curtsey, putting all of her anger into it, and stalked from the room. She was so agitated, she knew she could not go straight to Ida. She wanted to saddle her mare and gallop through the hunting park at full pelt.

Since this wasn't feasible she marched into the pleasance and, to the surprise and trepidation of the gardeners, spent several minutes pulling up weeds and flinging them as far as her strength could manage. Finally, she felt sufficiently calm to go to Ida, although she had to lean against the door for a moment and summon her courage before entering the room.

Her mother-in-law was sewing by the hearth, which was all she seemed to do these days, apart from look after her grandchildren and tell them stories.

Her age-spotted hand moved over the linen stretched on the frame. Front to back, back to front, in a swift, steady repetition.

Ida looked up with the beginning of a smile, saw Mahelt's expression and ceased sewing. Her face fell. 'Whatever's wrong?'

Mahelt crossed the room, knelt at Ida's feet and told her the news, trying to break it gently, stressing the detail that Hugh was safe and Ralph and Longespee, although hostages, were not among the dead.

Ida's wide brown gaze fixed on Mahelt all the time she was speaking. 'No,'

she whispered. 'Not my boys, not my babies!'

'They're safe, the messenger said they were safe.' Mahelt folded an arm around her mother-in-law. 'The King will help to pay the ransom of the Earl of Salisbury, and we can raise the silver for Ralph. We'll have them home soon, you'll see. The Earl is already writing the letters.' At least Mahelt hoped he was. 'I shall write to my father too; he will bring his influence to bear.'

Ida rose unsteadily to her feet and crossed the room to her jewel coffer.

'These are mine to sell.' She lifted a handful of rings, brooches and jewelled buckles. 'I never wear them and I would give them all to see my sons safely home. When I think of them as prisoners - in fetters . . . I cannot bear it. I would give my lifeblood to save them. I would take my gold and my jewels and I would walk bare-foot to put them in the hands of their captors and beg on my knees with my hair unbound if it would free them.' Her eyes filled with desolation. 'Kings are cruel,' she said. 'And often so are men . . .'

'Mother . . .' Mahelt started towards her, one hand extended in a pleading gesture, but Ida fended her off.

'No,' she said. 'I want no comfort while they have none.'

Mahelt chewed her lip. 'Then what about the comfort of the divine? Ask the Holy Virgin Mary for her intercession. She is a mother and will surely listen.'

Tears glittered in Ida's eyes. 'You are right,' she said. 'Will you come with me to the chapel now?'

'Of course.' Mahelt fetched Ida's cloak from the pole and placed it tenderly around her mother-in-law's frail shoulders.

As the women crossed the ward, they saw little Roger and his brother chasing the poultry with loud yells. The boys were being scolded by their nurse, who had lifted her skirts above her ankles, the better to run after the younger one, who had a twinkling turn of speed. Ida caught back a sob as she watched them. 'My sons,' she whispered again with anguish. 'No matter that they are grown men, I still hold the memory of them as children.'

Although the day was warm, Mahelt shivered and wished that she too had her cloak.

A week later Hugh returned from Poitou. Mahelt was in the bailey to greet him with the rest of the household and was shocked to see how thin he was.

The horses were out of condition after a summer on campaign, their hipbones prominent and their flanks showing a hint of rib. Although Hugh had raised a fine trot when he arrived, the impetus did not last. The troop was missing men and horses and there were wounded in the baggage cart, which was devoid of supplies. Hugh dismounted and clasped his father man to man before turning to Mahelt. She curtseyed, and then rose and flung herself into his arms and gripped him tightly. For a moment he held on to her and buried his face in her neck; then with an effort he pulled himself together and went to embrace his mother with gentle tenderness. Watching him, Mahelt felt an overwhelming burst of love and pride and grief.

Ida clung to him, touching his face and hair, weeping and calling him 'my son, my son'. And Mahelt understood that to Ida, Hugh represented hope and survival, while at the same time pointing up her anguish because the other two had not returned.

Gently he disengaged from her. 'Mother, I am all right. I wasn't in the north.

Ralph and Longespee are alive and well. I have letters from them in my pack. Dry your tears; we are all safe.'

'Dad-dad, Dad-dad!' Unable to contain himself any longer, little Roger tore from his nurse's arms and flew to his father. Hugh swept him up and his son immediately seized the advantage and swarmed to sit on his shoulders. 'I've got a new sword! Do you want to see it? Will you play with me?'

Hugh never wanted to see a sword again, but he couldn't say so. In his own childhood, a new sword had always been something of a special event; he had so often imagined himself a man dignified with the real thing, and an accomplished warrior. And when he finally got one, he had practised with it every day until he could juggle with it and make a spinning blur of blade and hilt. Foolish tumbler's tricks.

'Yes, let me have a look at this wondrous thing,' he said, 'but later, when I've talked to your grandsire and your mother.' He swung Roger down so he could dash off to fetch his sword and picked up Hugo, who was beaming up at him, waiting his turn with a patience lacking in his big brother. Hugh was thankful to be home, but the embrace of his family and the high walls of Framlingham burdened him with guilt that he was here and his brothers were not.

Lying on the bed, Hugh tumbled with his youngest son. Roger was off with his new wooden sword, playing with other castle children, and for a moment there was peace. As the last of the bath maids closed the door behind her, Mahelt turned to her husband. His hair was still damp but drying in fronds around the edges. This time there had been no fleas and lice to deal with beyond the usual, and only a customary accumulation of sweat and grime.

Now he was clean and a faint scent of rose water clung to him, mingling with the aroma of dried lavender from the chest in which his fresh shirt and hose had been stored. The sight of the livid scar on his wrist had shocked her. She was used to seeing men with such marks, but seldom those so close to her. Her father had very few, apart from an old white one on his thigh, sustained long before she was born, but to see the blemishes of war on Hugh made her realise how easily she might have lost him and that the news entering Framlingham could have been so much worse.

'Longespee is to be ransomed in exchange for King Philip's cousin,' he told her. 'It's ironic that Robert of Dreux was captured by me and my men at the fight for Nantes. It's going to irritate Longespee like a burr under his shirt to have to thank me for his rescue. It galls me too because I would rather the exchange were made for Ralph.'

'But at least one of them will be set free.'

'The wrong one.'

Mahelt felt a glimmer of impatience. 'Your father will do his best to raise the money and have Ralph returned as soon as he can. Surely Longespee, once he is free, will do the same? It is his obligation.' She unpinned her wimple and draped it over a coffer.

'We'll see, won't we?' Hugh looked down at his son. 'I did not tell my mother, but I fear for Ralph's situation.'

'Why?' Mahelt was suddenly concerned.

'While Longespee is a prisoner too, Ralph has the protection of an influential brother. Once Longespee is ransomed, Ralph's importance diminishes. He becomes not the kin of the King of England's half-brother, but just the minor son of an earl. There will be no one to look out for his welfare. I wrote to his gaolers from La Rochelle and sent all the money I had with me to pay for his keep but it will not last long.'

'Do you know how much they are demanding for him?'

'Not yet, but it will be steep because of his tie with Longespee. If Longespee is worth Robert of Dreux, then Ralph's price will not come cheaply.'

'So it behoves them to keep him alive and in good condition.'

'Depending upon how patient they are, yes, but once Longespee goes it will grow more difficult.'

'How much is a lot?'

He rubbed his forehead. 'Perhaps a thousand marks.'

Mahelt gasped. 'That's as much as the relief on an earldom!'

'The French are not fools. They calculate how much men have in their coffers and what will be a serious inconvenience. It increases the resentment against the King and it drains yet more of England's silver.' Hugo wriggled away from him and went to fetch his wooden animals. 'It's a total ruin and it should never have happened. It doesn't matter how brave and dashing men are in the thick of the fight if they cannot coordinate their actions. If all had come together at the same time, we would have wiped the French from the field, but they had the better control and command. John will have to agree humiliating terms with King Philip, and there will be anger and dissatisfaction on all sides. These are bitter and difficult times.' He beckoned to her and she came to lie down beside him. 'I dreamed of your hair,' he said in a cracking voice. Reaching out to stroke it, he began unfastening her braid.

'Just my hair?' she teased.

'Well, no, other parts too - frequently.'

She gave a splutter and nudged him, but the glint in his eyes made her breath grow short. Hugh cupped the side of her face and kissed her and she set her hands to his shirt where the laces were untied and she could feel his skin, still with the dampness of the bath upon it.

Little Hugo rejoined them on the bed with his collection of wooden animals and, in the true light of sharing, gave the sheep to Mahelt, the cow to his father, and kept the horse for himself. Then nothing would satisfy him but that everyone should make the noises pertaining to each animal. By the time Hugh and Mahelt had finished baaing, mooing and neighing, they were helpless with laughter, part of it release, and part of it the sheer incongruity of such foolish play when set against the backdrop of what had happened and the uncertainty of the future.

35

Marlborough, Wiltshire, February 1215

Ela, Countess of Salisbury, caught herself smoothing her gown yet again and immediately clasped her hands together, gripping her right over her left, using the pressure as an anchor. Beyond the shutters, a wet February dusk was encroaching on the last of the daylight. She had set out soon after dawn from Salisbury, but the journey had been interminable - the roads had been muddy and the side-saddle precarious, although necessary for her dignity.

She would rather not have come to court, but was determined to talk to the King and press him to make haste with arrangements for her husband's release. Negotiations had been dragging on for six months and there was still no sign of an agreement. Ela could not understand why John was trailing his heels when his half-brother was so needed here in England and had sacrificed so much for him.

Trestles draped with embroidered white cloths had been set up in the royal apartment to provide food for the guests, but informally, and the King was mingling with his barons and bishops. He reminded Ela of a wolf who would devour her if the chance arose. She hated being in his presence because it was difficult keeping her distance without transgressing the rules of courtesy. However, for the sake of her husband and children, she was prepared to brave that wolf in his lair.

'Sire.' She curtseyed to him.

Resplendent in a jewelled mantle lined with ermine and sable, John raised her to her feet. 'Sister.' He kissed her on either cheek; then he set his forefinger under her jaw and applied pressure. 'Chin up. Matters are progressing well. We'll soon have Longespee home - which is why I assume you have come?' He gestured around. 'Everyone in this chamber wants something from me. If they had nothing to ask, they wouldn't be here.