The Devil’s Diadem

Lady Adelie now had her fresh veil, and Mistress Yvette spent a moment fixing it securely to her hair.

Evelyn was nowhere to be seen.

‘What is going on?’ I said, as I turned to look at the nurse and Alice, who now stood by me. ‘Is it always thus when the earl returns?’

Both shook their heads.

‘There is always some ceremony,’ Alice said. ‘My mother likes to greet him in the courtyard together with the steward — but not this fuss. Maybe she is merely surprised by the suddenness of his return. I don’t know.’

‘It is far more than the suddenness of the earl’s return,’ said Evelyn, who had just stepped into the chamber.

She joined us at the window, the four of us standing close so we might all have a view.

‘Then what —’ I began, stopping at the sound of clattering hooves.

Suddenly the courtyard was filled with horses and their riders and a score of hounds. There were men everywhere, horses jostling and snorting, and the newly arrived hounds barking and snapping at the resident dogs. Whatever order Lady Adelie and the steward had managed to arrange was instantly undone by the press of bodies and the raising of voices.

‘The horses are lathered and stumbling,’ the nurse remarked. ‘They have been ridden hard and fast.’

‘All the way from the king’s court,’ Evelyn murmured.

I glanced at her, a dozen questions on my lips, but then Alice nudged me. ‘Look,’ she said.

Somehow a small circle of calm had emerged in the heart of the chaos. I saw the earl dismounting from his horse, and stepping forth to the countess. They took each other’s hands in a light grip, perfunctorily kissed, then the earl and the countess turned to another man, recently dismounted.

He was in dull garb, unlike the earl who shone in azures and vermilions, and I could not understand why the earl and the countess turned to him. Why did Lady Adelie not greet her son, Stephen, now also dismounted and standing close to his parents?

‘Who —’ I began yet once more, stopping in amazement as I saw Lady Adelie sink in deep courtesy before this other man, the earl having to take her elbow to support her as she almost slipped on the cobbles.

Behind her, the twin boys bowed deep in courtly fashion.

‘The king,’ Evelyn said. ‘Edmond.’

The chaos of the courtyard rapidly spread throughout the entire house. Hounds ran up and down the great staircase, snapping and growling as servants and men-at-arms hurried this way and that. As I stood just inside the door of the children’s chamber, watching, I saw William the steward hastening to and fro, barking orders, having bedding rearranged and taken from this chamber to that to accommodate the influx of a score or more men, while stools and benches, trestles and boards, were hurried into the great hall below me.

The earl was home and with a king to entertain.

‘What should we do?’ I said to Evelyn.

‘Remain here,’ she said. ‘Lady Adelie will send when she requires us, and I think we’d do best at keeping the children out from under this hubbub. Poor Rosamund and John would be crushed if they ventured beyond the confines of this chamber!’

At that very moment, John, who had recently learned to toddle, managed to slip between both of our legs and totter toward the dangerous mayhem on the staircase.

‘John!’ Evelyn and I cried at the same time, bending down to reach for him.

He tried to evade us, gurgling with laughter, and only after a small scramble did we manage to retrieve him and stand upright again, John now safely in my arms.

I felt Evelyn go rigid, and I looked up.

The earl and the king were standing not half a dozen feet away, on the last rise of the staircase before they would step onto the wooden planks of the flooring.

Both were looking right at us.

I managed to register that the earl was furious, and that the king had an expression of some amusement on his face, before I dropped my eyes and sank down into the deepest courtesy I could manage.

My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t think. I was terrified, not merely of the earl, but of the fact that not a few feet away stood the King of England.

Naturally, in such a state I compounded both my terror and my utter mortification by slipping just as I reached the lowest depths of my courtesy and thumping onto my bottom with an ungracious thud.

I was trying hard not to let John drop (could I manage to deepen my mortification? Yes, I could, if I sent John rolling away toward the king’s feet), and from my bottom I slid onto a shoulder with a hard thump, making me cry out in pain.

Out of the corner of one eye I saw Evelyn bending down to snatch John from my hands and, as she raised him up, another hand appeared before my face.

‘Take it,’ a quiet voice said, and I did, and allowed the king to help me to my feet.

I couldn’t look at him. I hung my head in misery, appalled that I could have so embarrassed the earl before the king.

And humiliate myself before the both of them.

Sweet Jesu, perhaps even little John would remember this all the days of his life, and chortle over my misery to his children.

‘It is no indignity to save a child from harm,’ the king said, and I finally raised my eyes to his face. I did not think it remarkable and was surprised that a king could look so like an ordinary man. He was olive-skinned, with dark wiry hair cropped close to his skull over a strong face. His eyes were brown, and surprisingly warm, and his sensual mouth curved in a soft smile. I supposed he was of an age with the earl, and from my youthful perspective, that seemed very old indeed.

‘Your name?’ he said.

‘Mistress Maeb Langtofte,’ the earl said in a flat voice, coming to stand at the king’s shoulder. ‘Recently joined my house to serve Adelie.’

‘Then allow me to apologise for having upset your day, Mistress Maeb,’ Edmond said. ‘It has been most discourteous of me.’

I thought he must be laughing at me, but there was no malice in his eyes, only that shining, compelling warmth.

I could not speak, still too awed and humiliated. I realised Edmond continued to hold my hand and I tried to pull it away.

He held on to it a moment too long. It would not have been noticeable to anyone else, but both he and I knew it. Something in his eyes changed, just briefly, and then Edmond gave a small nod and he and the earl turned away and walked into the solar.

Evelyn, John still in her arms, and I stepped back into the chamber. Evelyn closed the door and I burst into tears.

I think my tears humiliated me almost as much as my foolishness before the king and earl. I hated to weep and show weakness, but at that moment everything was too overwhelming for me to do anything else.

I would not ever be able to show my face again within the household. The earl would despise me, and Lady Adelie too, and it was her contempt that I feared the most. Maybe life in a nunnery might not be so bad after all … surely I would be better suited to it than a noble household. I could not ever show my face again. I …

Evelyn, having handed John to the nurse, wrapped her arms about me and hugged me close.

‘Come, come,’ she teased, ‘did you really need to throw yourself at the king’s feet in such a fashion?’

I began to laugh, even as I was crying, and after a few moments Evelyn dried my tears, and I straightened my back and determined that I would stay out of sight of the king lest my treacherous legs threaten to wobble me to the floor again.

CHAPTER FIVE

Naturally, fate and Lady Adelie conspired to make me break my promise within the hour.

Mistress Yvette arrived in the chamber, all bustle and busyness, and said that the countess wished Evelyn and myself to bring the children to greet their father and the king. I sent one frantic look to Evelyn, but she was no help, having turned away to speak with Alice and Emmette, so I swallowed my nerves, settled John on one hip — Sweet Jesu let me not drop him — and took Rosamund by the hand.

She was a sweet girl and gave me a happy smile, and I reminded myself that all I needed to do was escort the children into the solar, perhaps hand John to his mother, then step back and wait silently in the shadows.

Ancel and Robert were back with us by this stage, and Evelyn took them in hand, straightening their tunics and hair, and positioning them on either side of her, one hand on each boy’s shoulder as if that might actually restrain them.

So, with Mistress Yvette leading the way, we progressed toward the solar.

Two men-at-arms stood either side of the closed door. They were weaponed and wary, and as good an indication, if any were needed, that they protected someone of immeasurable worth beyond the door. I did not know them, nor did their stern faces relieve my nerves. Mistress Yvette looked at them, then nodded back at us. One of the men relaxed enough to stand down from his guard and open the door into the chamber.

We filed in and I kept myself as far as I could in Mistress Yvette’s shadow. Evelyn caught my eye, giving a small smile of reassurance.

I was surprised at how uncrowded it was. I had expected the same bustle and chaos in the solar as was in evidence everywhere else, but there was only a group seated in chairs and benches about one of the open windows.

Light spilled in the window and over the group, and I had to blink in order to make them out.

There was Edmond, seated in the imposing chair that was normally the earl’s.

Pengraic sat next to him, leaning close as they murmured quietly.

Lady Adelie sat on a chair opposite them. She was packed about with pillows and cushions, and I thought she looked weary.

Beside her sat Stephen, his hair gleaming in the sunshine, leaning in to the service of his mother as the earl did to the king. Two other men — great nobles by their dress — completed the circle; I soon learned they were Walter de Roche, Earl of Summersete, and Gilbert de Montgomerie, Earl of Scersberie, and a Marcher Lord like Pengraic.

Lady Adelie noticed us first, and, as she gave a smile, so Stephen turned.

He noticed me immediately as I hid behind Mistress Yvette, almost as if he’d been looking, and gave an imperceptible nod.

‘Ah, my children,’ Pengraic said, and then they were all looking at us, and I tried to shuffle even further behind Mistress Yvette.

To no avail. Both the earl and the king looked directly at me, no doubt reliving my earlier humiliation. I glanced at Lady Adelie and saw that her face was sympathetic.

They had told her then, yet she did not condemn me.

The older children, Alice, Emmette and the twins, dipped or bowed before the king, then Pengraic beckoned Alice forward a step.

‘Gilbert,’ the earl said, ‘this is my daughter Alice.’

Alice dimpled prettily at the closer of the two noblemen, and curtsied again. I looked at the gleam of interest in the nobleman’s eyes, and wondered if Pengraic was arranging a match between Alice and this man — the Earl of Scersberie. Scersberie was an old man, older even than Pengraic, and I thought it likely Alice was to replace a wife lost to the ravages of childbirth.

I wondered if Alice were to be the first replacement, or a second or third. I had a momentary gladness that I had no estates or dowry, that I, too, might be handed about, offered to old men who lusted after my riches.

Pengraic beckoned Emmette forward, introducing her, then the twins stepped forward at his gesture.

‘Ancel, Robert,’ Pengraic said, ‘you remember my lord of Summersete. It seems you will be going to his household a little sooner than expected.’

The boys dipped their heads and looked suitably restrained. The Earl of Summersete, a much younger man, and darkly handsome, gave them a friendly enough nod.

Sweet Jesu, I thought, was Pengraic about to dispose of all his children at this one gathering?

‘And these two are the babies I have left,’ the countess said, and gestured me forward.

John was wriggling about on my hip, and I was having trouble holding him, but Rosamund behaved beautifully, walking forward docilely but confidently, and dipping in a little courtesy that put my attempt to shame.

I still could not look at either the earl or the king.

‘The little boy I have met previous,’ said Edmond. ‘On the stairs a short while ago.’

He paused, and I finally looked at him. His eyes were warm, glinting with secret amusement.

Then Edmond saved me by bending forward so he could look Rosamund in the eyes and take all attention away from myself and John.

‘And who is this pretty little maid?’ Edmond said, his voice soft, and he held out a hand.

I let Rosamund’s hand go and she walked over to the king, her arms out, laughing, and the king grinned and swung her up to his lap.

‘And this is the daughter I shall lay claim to, Raife, should ever I lose my beloved Adelaide.’

All attention was now on the king and the girl in his lap, and I faded backward, keeping a firm grip on the still-wriggling John, who seemed determined to get down.

For a few minutes the group exchanged pleasantries about the children, then Pengraic caught Lady Adelie’s eye, who in turn summoned Mistress Yvette over to her side.

Mistress Yvette listened, nodded, then took Rosamund from the king, caught the twins’ eyes and jerked her head toward the door.

Alice, ever watchful, smiled and dipped in yet another pretty courtesy, taking leave of the men and her mother. Her sister Emmette followed Alice’s example, and both girls walked over to where I stood with Evelyn.

Thank the Lord, I thought, we are to be dismissed.

Mistress Yvette brought Rosamund over, and handed her to Evelyn.

‘Take the children, Evelyn, and keep them in their chamber for the day,’ she said quietly, keeping our consultations from disturbing the group by the window. ‘Their mother does not want them running about the house today. Not the twins, certainly not the girls. I need to find William, and confer with him about tonight’s feast.’

Yvette surprised me by taking John from my arms and handing him to Alice. ‘Maeb,’ she said, ‘stay here and serve the men and our lady their wine, and if Lady Adelie should look too exhausted, then run to find me, that I might aid her back to her bed.’

‘But —’ I started. But I can’t stay here and serve these great nobles their wine! What if I should drop —

‘You will do well enough, Maeb,’ Mistress Yvette said in a tone that brooked no dissent, and with that she, Evelyn, and the children turned and left the room.

I briefly closed my eyes, seeking courage. The closest I had ever come to high nobility was standing in a small crowd in Witenie on May Day, three years past, watching silently as a knight wearing a magnificent surcoat over his maille hauberk, and his two squires, rode past in splendid indifference to our awed gaze.

I opened my eyes, automatically seeking out Lady Adelie for reassurance.

She saw me looking and gave a little nod, either to hurry me up or to impart some sense of confidence.

I chose to believe the latter and so, wiping my hands among my skirts to dry away my nerves, I walked over to a small chest on which sat several ewers and a number of silver wine cups.

I poured out six cups of a rich, spiced and unwatered wine, then carried two across to the group, offering one first to the king, and the other to Pengraic.

The king gave me a warm look as he took the cup, the earl a cool and somewhat calculating one. I got the sense from the earl that he could not wait for a chance to berate me again; one did not have to consult all the saints in heaven to know I’d given him reason enough this day.

The next two cups I took to the other two earls, serving the Earl of Summersete first.

Summersete gave me a long look as he took the goblet from my hand. ‘Is she to be trusted?’ he said to Pengraic. ‘I do not see why we cannot this once serve our own wine.’

‘She can be trusted,’ said Lady Adelie. ‘She has no loyalty but to this household, and will not betray it. And she is not here just to serve wine. I am not well with this child I carry, and would prefer that one of my women remain to attend me if needed.’

Over the past weeks I had come to like and respect Lady Adelie. Now she had my complete loyalty for these words of confidence.

Something in my back straightened. ‘I will not speak anything I hear in this chamber,’ I said. ‘I swear it, my lords.’

‘For God’s sake, Summersete,’ said Edmond, ‘the next thing you’ll be wanting to rack her to see if she will confess to being in the King of Sicily’s employ. Leave it be. I am too weary and too heartsick to want to find new shadows among the army that already gather about us!’

A few short weeks ago I had been but the orphaned daughter of a lowly knight, lost in her rustic idyll. Now I was not only serving wine to the King of England and some of his greatest nobles, but this king and these nobles were engaged in an argument about whether I might be a spy in the employ of the King of Sicily.

My mouth twitched. I caught Stephen’s eye as I moved about Summersete to serve Scersberie, and, God help me, the amusement in Stephen’s face almost undid me.

I retreated hastily to the chest and collected the final two cups for Lady Adelie and Stephen, keeping my eyes downcast as I served them. I then moved to a spot several paces away from the group and sat on a stool, distant enough not to be obtrusive, yet close enough to see if any needed his goblet refilled, or if the Lady Adelie needed my attention.

And close enough to hear the conversation that ensued.

‘My lady,’ Edmond said to Lady Adelie, ‘I do beg your forgiveness for this unexpected intrusion. I know you prefer to keep a quiet household and my appearance has very evidently shattered the calm. Please, do not trouble yourself to arrange any richness of entertainment or feasting on my behalf. I am content to rest and eat as any member of your household.’

‘My dear lord,’ Lady Adelie replied, ‘you are truly welcome in my house, and whatever feast or entertainment I offer you, be assured it is offered out of love and respect and not out of obligation. My only fear is that your arrival in such hasty manner, and without your usual retinue, foretells some heavy and terrible tidings.’

‘I regret to say that it does, madam,’ Edmond said. He sighed, fiddling a little with his wine cup before resuming. ‘The south-east, from Dovre to Cantuaberie, is struck with plague. We have heard rumours of it in France and further east, but had hoped our realm should be spared. Not to be, I am afraid.’

‘We should have closed the ports months ago,’ Scersberie said.

‘Well enough to say that now,’ Pengraic said, ‘but then we did not understand how vilely this plague spreads, nor how long it takes to show its evil nature.’

‘My lords,’ Lady Adelie said, ‘please, tell me more. What plague? How dire, that my lord king had to flee Westminster?’

Edmond indicated that Pengraic should respond.

‘My lady,’ Pengraic said, ‘my lord king’s council has, for the past several months, received reports of a plague that had spread west from the lands of the Byzantine Empire, through the Hungarian and German duchies and into the French duchies — even the Iberian states of Aragon and Navarre have not been spared. The rumours spoke of terrible suffering —’

‘How so?’ said Lady Adelie.

Edmond shook his head slightly at Pengraic, and the countess turned to the king.

‘My lord,’ she said, ‘I must know. I carry the responsibility of this household when the earl my husband is not present. I cannot manage it weighted by ignorance.’

Pengraic flicked a glance at me before continuing, and I felt my stomach turn over. Not at the thought that he might be angry at me, or not trust me, but at the words he was now about to speak. Somehow even then I knew the horror that awaited us.

‘The sickness begins mildly enough,’ said Pengraic. ‘A feeling of malaise, then a cough. Then, a yellow phlegm expelled from the lungs.’

‘And not any phlegm,’ said Scersberie, ‘for it is not moist at all, but of a dry, furry nature.’

‘From then the sickness spreads rapidly,’ Pengraic said. ‘Once a man begins to cough the yellow phlegm, his body rapidly succumbs. Eventually, the yellow … fungus … spreads over most of his body.’

He paused. ‘And then the final horror, Adelie. This “fungus” seems composed of heat, for all too often it bursts into flame and the sufferer is burned to death in his or her sickbed.’

‘Terrible,’ said Summersete, shaking his head. ‘So many houses burned to the ground. An entire town, so I have heard, in the south of France.’

Sweet Mary, I thought. And what of all the souls burned along with the houses? Have you no thought for them?

Lady Adelie’s face was shocked, as I am sure mine was. ‘This is of the Devil!’ she said. ‘What else can explain it?’

I think she expected her husband to respond, but his eyes were downcast to his interlaced fingers in his lap and he did not speak.

‘Indeed,’ said Edmond. ‘Nothing but the Devil could be behind such horror. No one has ever seen the like.’

‘God’s mercy upon us,’ Lady Adelie murmured. ‘How is it spread? By touch? By a miasma in the air?’

‘We do not know,’ said Edmond, ‘but physicians believe that a man can be infected many weeks before any symptoms show. We had thought England safe, for there were no cases here, but it was merely that the infection had arrived weeks before any started to cough or grow the evil fungus.’

‘Or burn,’ said Summersete, and I thought he had a horrid fascination with the flames. Initially I had liked him for his youthful handsome face, but now I realised those pretty features covered a dark nature.

‘Dovre and the south-eastern villages and towns are now infected,’ said Edmond. ‘People are dying, many more are coughing up the furry phlegm. Unrest spreads.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ Lady Adelie said, making the sign of the cross over her breast. ‘Are we safe here? What can we do to protect ourselves?’

‘You are not safe,’ said Pengraic. ‘Not from the plague, not from the unrest. You and the children, and whatever of the household you wish, must depart for Pengraic Castle as shortly as you may. The Welsh Marches are isolated and safe.’

‘No!’ cried Lady Adelie. ‘I cannot! I am troubled enough with this child. I cannot undertake such a long journey back to —’

‘You must, madam,’ said Stephen, and I jumped a little at his voice, for I had almost forgot his presence. ‘You risk all — your life and that of my brothers and sisters — if you stay here.’

‘But —’ Lady Adelie began.

‘You will return to Pengraic Castle,’ said the earl. ‘It is your safe haven. Nothing, not even the plague, can leap its walls.’

‘And you?’ Lady Adelie said.

‘Pengraic will stay with me,’ said Edmond. ‘I am raising men at Oxeneford — my main party has gone there, while my queen and sons have gone north to Elesberie — and I detoured to Rosseley with your husband only to add my voice to his that you depart for Pengraic Castle.’

‘Stephen will stay with you,’ said Pengraic. ‘Edmond and I will ride with you as far as Oxeneford, and from there Stephen can escort you in a more leisurely manner to Pengraic.’

‘And what of the Welsh?’ said Lady Adelie. ‘If they think England is in disarray may not that renegade Welsh oaf who calls himself prince, Madog ap Gruffydd, lead his army on Pengraic? The castle sits on a direct route from the heart of Welsh darkness into England. Do you save me from plague only to risk me to Madog? Raife, you are sorely needed at Pengraic yourself!’