The Devil’s Diadem

Soon enough, I recollected myself to look round. Surely the earl would be sitting his horse, staring at me silently.

But he was far distant, still on the ground, talking animatedly with the Earl of Scersberie, and I had the feeling that he’d not noticed a moment of what had just passed.

I turned Dulcette’s head for the road, where Lady Adelie’s cart waited for the main column to ride on.

That afternoon Stephen pulled his horse back to ride for a while by his mother’s cart, talking to her.

Together with Alice (Emmette rode ahead, before her mother’s cart), I rode a little distance behind the cart, which gave me the opportunity to sit and watch Stephen to my heart’s content. Of all the nobles and royalty in this travelling band, I thought him the most uncomplicated.

Eventually Stephen reined in his horse so that he fell back to where Alice and I rode.

‘Alice,’ he said, ‘our lady mother wishes to speak with you.’

Alice gave a nod and pushed her horse forward.

Stephen smiled. ‘And now I have my chance to dally a little while with the lovely Mistress Maeb.’

‘You should not,’ I said, ‘for your father will be angry with me. He thinks I have unseemly ambitions.’

‘For me?’ Stephen said. ‘I am indeed flattered, mistress.’

‘My lord, my only security is this household, and —’

‘I understand Maeb. I will stay only a moment. After Oxeneford, however …’ He smiled, and I could not help but return it.

After Oxeneford Stephen would lead this column, the earl left far behind and with no chance of seeing how often we talked.

‘When you attended us in the solar the day before yesterday,’ Stephen said, ‘you heard some dark things, yet you have been unable to talk of them since, nor seek any reassurance. When there is a chance, after Oxeneford, I will talk more openly and fully with you of those things. I wish I could do it now … but …’

‘Is it truly as bad as it sounded, my lord?’

‘Yes. I am sorry. There will be dark days ahead, Maeb. I pray we have left Rosseley in good enough time, that …’

His voice drifted off, but I knew what he meant. That we have avoided the plague.

Then the good humour returned to his face. ‘You looked so beautiful that night in the great hall,’ he said. ‘My father ought to be more worried about my ambitions. Not yours.’

With that, and a final wicked smile, he booted his horse into a canter and moved forward to rejoin his father.

That evening, as the sun was setting, we rode through Craumares then across the arched stone bridge over the Thames into Summersete’s castle of Walengefort. It had been a long day, very tiring, and I was glad enough to hand Dulcette over to a groom and aid my lady (and Evelyn, who was still in great pain) to their beds for the night. When I lay down by Evelyn, we exchanged only a few words before I slipped gratefully into sleep.

We rose early again the next day, mounting our horses and carts just after dawn to ride northward to Oxeneford. We followed the Thames now, riding a wide and well-kept road by the riverside. I kept Dulcette behind my lady’s cart, with the two older girls, Alice and Emmette for company. We did not talk much, for the pace was even faster than the previous day, and several times I saw either the countess or Evelyn wince as the cart rattled along.

Both the earl and Stephen stayed out of sight at the head of the column with the king. We had left Summersete in his castle, together with the twins Robert and Ancel (joining his household earlier than expected), but I’d overheard two of the knights saying he might be joining the king at Oxeneford within a few days.

I did, however, have another companion for part of the ride. After our break for the noon meal, and as Stephen had yesterday, Saint-Valery joined myself and the two girls for a while. I was more than cautious of him after what Evelyn had told me, and answered his questions as briefly as I might.

‘Have I said anything to offend you, mistress?’ he asked eventually, keeping his voice low that Alice and Emmette on the other side of me might not hear.

‘I worry only to whom you might repeat what I say,’ I said.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Mistress Maeb, you are far beyond your rustic childhood now. For better or worse, you have become part of a noble household, and thus will inevitably be drawn into the dealings of the court. Treat everyone with suspicion if you must, but be courtly and gracious in the doing, or else soon your enemies shall outnumber your allies.’

‘Forgive me, my lord,’ I said, stung by his rebuke. ‘It is just that I feel adrift within a dark marshland, where each and every word might sink me to my doom. To me it appears that silence is the greater safety. I fumble. I am sorry for it.’

‘Perhaps I also should beg forgiveness, for I have been peppering you with questions and allowed you to ask none. What would you know? This,’ he waved a hand at the column containing all its knights and lords, ‘must appear so strange to you.’

‘Oh, it does, my lord.’ I thought for a moment. ‘My lord, I am curious as to why the king, together with the Earls of Summersete and Scersberie, came to Rosseley with my Lord Pengraic. I know of the reason why they travel to Oxeneford, as must you —’

‘Elegantly put, mistress. For that you have my admiration.’

‘— but why did they accompany my Lord Pengraic? Surely they could have ridden straight for Oxeneford? Allowed my Lord Pengraic to collect his household and join them there?’

We continued in silence a brief while, Saint-Valery looking to the road ahead while he thought. Eventually he glanced over to ensure that Alice and Emmette were not close — they were chatting between themselves and had fallen back a little — before he spoke.

‘Matters are difficult,’ Saint-Valery said, ‘as well you know. There is the … sickness … and there is also increasing unrest.’ He paused again, picking his words carefully. ‘Pengraic is a powerful Marcher Lord, Maeb. He is the most independent and powerful of Edmond’s nobles. He controls great wealth and land and thus men-at-arms. He is, in effect, a king in all but name. Edmond, as well Scersberie and Summersete, accompanied him to Rosseley to ensure that Pengraic did, in fact, come to Oxeneford and not make straight for the Welsh Marches where he might collect his mighty garrison and … well … Edmond merely wanted to make sure Pengraic was at his side as an ally and not at his back like … well …’

I was horrified, and more than a little angry on my lord’s behalf. I did not like the man, and feared him, yet I felt intensely loyal to him if only for my lady’s sake.

‘Has not Edmond enough enemies and evils at his door,’ I said, not thinking that the words might go straight back to the king, ‘that he needs to start inventing new ones?’

Saint-Valery looked at me, then he burst into laughter as he had when I’d snapped at him during the feast. He calmed somewhat. ‘You are so much the —’ he began.

‘Saint-Valery,’ snapped a voice behind us, and we both swivelled in our saddles.

Pengraic was directly behind us, his horse’s head nodding between the rumps of Saint-Valery’s horse and Dulcette.

Sweet Jesu, I thought, how long has he been there?

Saint-Valery evidently thought the same thing, for he had gone white.

‘To the front, if you will,’ Pengraic said to Saint-Valery, and the man gave a nod and kicked his horse forward.

Pengraic drew his bright bay courser level with Dulcette, graced me momentarily with one of his expressionless looks, then moved forward himself.

I sat Dulcette, shaking as badly as a leaf in a storm. Pengraic had almost certainly overheard what Saint-Valery said, and then my reply. I was not so foolish as to congratulate myself for saying what was, as it happened, precisely the right thing at the right moment. Instead I realised again how close I had come to losing my place in the Pengraic household and embracing penury. I could just as easily have nodded and smiled at Saint-Valery. Even agreed with him, simply to appear gracious to a man who had so recently accused me of ungraciousness.

My shaking grew as I thought that, on the other hand, Saint-Valery might believe that I had known Pengraic was there, and had thus structured my outraged response for the earl’s benefit — and Saint-Valery’s (and through him the king’s) discomfort.

And how had Pengraic come to be so close behind us? I had thought him at the head of the column. I did not remember seeing him ride past us to the rear.

I was glad I was going to Pengraic Castle. The court and its treacherous eddies were too frightening and dangerous for me. I could not wait to escape them — and Pengraic himself.

Dark and damned the castle might be, but I thought it would prove considerably safer than these sun-drenched lowlands.

CHAPTER NINE

We reached Oxeneford late in the afternoon. The king had a palace outside the city walls, and it was there we would stay for a few days before travelling on to Pengraic in the Welsh Marches.

We skirted the city, turning for the north-western meadows, and suddenly I saw laid out in the fields beyond the palace the encampment of what appeared to me to be a large army. There were scores of tents with pennants flying the colours and heraldic arms of their occupants, long horse lines, cooking fires, men at weapon practice or standing about idling, and maille-smiths sweating over their work. It made the threat of unrest, even outright rebellion, seem very real to me, whereas before it had only been something lurking in the shadows of words and frowns.

Much of the column peeled off into this encampment, but Edmond, his closest retainers (including Saint-Valery), Scersberie and Pengraic and his household continued into the palace. I helped Lady Adelie and Evelyn out of the cart, then took control of John and Rosamund. Evelyn was moving better now, although she was still stiff and sore. We went inside the palace and were shown to our chambers. We were all glad to be allowed to rest, before the evening meal in the king’s great hall.

Unlike the meal at Rosseley, Evelyn and myself, and even Mistress Yvette, sat at places far down the hall tables, where we only talked among ourselves during a repast I thought indifferent to that offered at Rosseley. Evelyn was feeling uncomfortable, and no one noticed when I decided to accompany her back to our chamber where I thought I would help her to bed.

I stayed with her for a while, until Mistress Yvette returned and then went with her to help Lady Adelie to her bed. The earl and his countess had a magnificent chamber on the top floor of the main palace building, with a cleverly arched and panelled ceiling, and with its own great fireplace. Their bed, heavily draped in well-worked crimson hangings and festooned with furs, dominated the room and I spent more than a few minutes in some envy at their comforts.

The earl was elsewhere, and once Mistress Yvette and I had disrobed Lady Adelie and helped her into the luxurious bed, Yvette and I carefully folded the countess’ robes and lay them in one of the two chests in the chamber.

‘Maeb?’

I turned to the countess, sitting in her bed with her ever-present book of devotion in her hands.

‘Maeb, Yvette is weary, although she will not speak of it, and is troubled by an ache in her temples. Will you attend me tomorrow morning, at rising? I would allow Yvette a morning to lie abed, for her own rest.’

‘Of course, madam.’ I was both pleased and a little nervous. I had attended the countess on occasion in the morning, aiding her to rise, but always with Mistress Yvette present.

‘In that hour before dawn, if you will,’ Lady Adelie said. ‘I would rise early for my prayer on the morrow.’

Privately I thought the countess could do with a lie abed herself, for she looked strained, but I merely nodded, dipped in courtesy, made sure that neither the countess nor Mistress Yvette needed me for anything else, and returned to the chamber I shared with Evelyn.

I had thought to find Evelyn asleep, but she was awake, and in some discomfort.

‘Evelyn? What is it?’

‘Oh, nothing too troublesome, Maeb. Do not fret. It is but this back. It cramps and will not let me sleep.’

‘I will fetch a hot poultice for you, Evelyn. It will relax the griping.’

I could see Evelyn struggling with herself. I knew Evelyn well. Part of her would not wish to trouble me, the other part desperately yearned for that poultice.

I laughed. ‘Do not fret, Evelyn. I know the way to the kitchens, for I went there earlier for madam’s posset. I will fetch the poultice, and then you will rest easy.’

Evelyn’s face relaxed in relief. ‘Thank you, Maeb.’

I found the kitchen easily enough, and tried to keep out of the cooks’ and servants’ way as I made a warm barley and herb poultice for Evelyn’s back. I wrapped it in some linen, then begged a wooden bowl from one of the cooks that I might carry it more easily.

It was late night now, and many of the torches had burned low. I crossed the small courtyard to the building where our chamber lay, but somehow took the wrong door. I only realised I had mislaid my way when I walked into a store chamber filled with barrels and realised that I had not passed through it on my way to the kitchen. It was very dark, the only light coming from a couple of open windows high in the walls, and I muttered to myself, cross that I had lost my way.

I turned for the door, intending to retrace my steps back into the courtyard where I might find the right door, when I stopped, so terrified that I froze, unable to move or even think.

The door was open, and there must have been a torch in the chamber beyond, for what stood — crouched — in the door was clearly silhouetted.

It was an imp — my mind registered that at least. How often had I seen them, crawling in stone across the walls of churches, or grinning down from their gutters high above?

It had a grotesque lumpy body, its limbs thin and stick-like, its hands and feet over-sized and splayed as it rested on all fours, watching me.

A long, skinny tail snaked out behind it, threshing to and fro, like a cat stalking.

Its face was round, with a pig’s snout, its teeth small and sharp.

A red forked tongue flicked out as I watched, and its luminous eyes slowly blinked.

Then it hissed and rose on its back legs as if to strike out. Standing, it was taller than a man.

I shrieked, stumbling backward, certain that it would take my life and carry my soul down to hell.

Suddenly something caught me about the waist and I was violently wrenched to one side.

‘Get thee back to thy foul master, imp!’ a man’s voice cried, and I heard the sound of steel being drawn.

I had stumbled against a barrel, and it was only after I had found my balance and could look up that I realised it was Pengraic who stood there, stepping forth to the imp with his sword drawn. He made a lunge toward it and the imp gave a soft sibilant hissing sound, as if thwarted, and abruptly vanished.

A low cry came from my throat, and everything momentarily blurred and darkened about me. I felt the earl grab me about the waist again, and he guided me to sit down on a barrel that lay on its side. He sat holding me until he was sure that I would no longer faint.

‘Saints damn you! What do you here?’

‘I am s … s … sorry, my lord. I came only for a poultice for Evelyn’s back.’ Amazingly, I realised I still held the thing in my hands. I had been confronted by an imp from hell, but I had not dropped Evelyn’s poultice. ‘I lost my way … I am … I am … sorry.’

‘You are a most foolish woman, mistress!’ the earl said as his hands relaxed away from my waist.

I thought to rise, almost as fearful of the earl in his bad temper as I had been of the imp, but he stopped me.

‘Wait. We need to talk, then I will escort you back to your chamber.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘You will not say anything, not to anyone, about what you saw here tonight.’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Not to anyone, Maeb! Swear it!’

‘I swear, my lord!’

‘Not to Evelyn, not to my lady wife, not to Stephen. To no one. It would cause panic and dismay, and that we do not need.’

‘I will not speak, my lord.’

We were close enough that I could see his face, and I could see that he watched me carefully, his eyes narrowed. Finally he gave a small nod. ‘Yes, I will trust you. You will not speak.’

What if he had decided the other way? That I could not be trusted? What would he have done?

I had been trembling, but now I trembled more.

‘You are not in danger, Maeb. The imp will not trouble you again … but stray here no more. Stay close to your lady and your chamber.’

I nodded. ‘But the imp has seen me, my lord … did it come for me? How do I know it won’t return?’

‘Maeb, just trust me. It will not return for you. It was not you it wanted.’

‘Then who? I —’

‘Stop questioning my words, Maeb!’

I cringed at the sharpness of his voice, and he sighed. ‘Maeb, now I am sorry for my roughness of speech. And I have yet to express my gratitude for what you said to Saint-Valery this day. That was well said, and I thank you for it.’

I knew he was trying to take my mind away from the imp, but still I appreciated his words. ‘Thank you, my lord.’

I wanted to leave. I kept glancing toward the door, but the earl sat as if he still had something to say but could not quite find the words for it. I grew more uncomfortable by the moment, and wished desperately I was back in my chamber, curled up with Evelyn, finding refuge in a deep, unknowing sleep.

The earl turned a little, enough so that he faced me directly. ‘Maeb, there is a dark flood coming. You will need to be strong.’

‘My lord?’

‘The plague. It will be worse than you could ever imagine, worse than you have been told.’

I did not know what to say, for his words struck great fear into me.

‘Remember that you promised all your care for my wife.’

‘I will be strong, for my lady’s sake.’

‘Good.’ His voice had relaxed now, so I dared also to relax.

A little too soon, as it happened.

‘Saint-Valery has asked for your hand in marriage,’ he said.

‘No!’ I said.

‘You know full well why he has asked for you, don’t you.’

Of course I knew. The king did not want to touch me until I had been wed. It was his idea of courtesy. Saint-Valery would do anything to smooth the path for his master. I was to be used and then discarded in the king’s casual game of lust at court. I felt ill, and I think some of what I felt showed on my face.

‘Do not worry, Maeb. You will go to Pengraic and there you will be safe. Who knows who or what will be left standing when this flood recedes.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’ I did not truly know what to say. They were the safest words I could think of.

‘Now take that poultice to Evelyn, and forget all you have seen and heard this night — save your vow of silence.’

‘I will, my lord,’ I said.

I rose, dipped in courtesy, and left the store room. The earl seemed to have forgotten his promise to escort me to my chamber, but I did not mind. I was glad enough to leave him.

I returned safe to my chamber, and applied the poultice to Evelyn’s back. She did not appear to notice anything amiss, and I said not a word of what had occurred.

I lay beside her, the poultice warming us both as we curled together, but I did not sleep that night. The hissing imp invaded my thoughts whenever I closed my eyes, and if it was not the imp, it was the earl’s words. There is a dark flood coming. It will be worse than you could ever imagine, worse than you have been told.

It was all I could think about. The imp and the earl’s bleak warning. They pushed away any other thought I may have had, whether of Saint-Valery’s offer for my hand, or whatever query I may have raised in my own mind as to what purpose the earl may have had for lurking in that store room.

I was exhausted and gritty-eyed when I crept into the earl and countess’ chamber early the next morning. I stoked their fire, adding more wood, set two bowls of water to warm on the hearth, then lit several candles with a taper from the fire.

‘My lady?’ I bent over her side of the bed, laying my hand gently on her shoulder.

She sighed, then opened her eyes, and thus we began our day.

The countess pushed back the cover and sat on the side of the bed. She took several deep breaths as I pulled a half mantle about her shoulders, and I thought she struggled a little with them. She was very pale, and her distended belly heavily veined, and I wondered yet again how much this child was taking from her.

‘My lady?’ I murmured, concerned for her.

‘I am well enough, Maeb. Fetch the water, and I will wash.’

The earl rose as I carried one of the bowls back to the countess, and as she washed so did he, crouching by the fire and grunting as he splashed water over his face and the back of his neck.

It seemed strange to be working silently with my lady as I helped her to dress, first in her linen chemise and stockings, then in a brightly coloured kirtle that slipped over her head and belted loosely about her swollen body. I combed out and re-braided her hair. Behind us the earl was dressing with the aid of his valet, Charles, and as he and the countess prepared for the day they exchanged quiet words about the countess’ continuation of her journey to Wales.

It was almost as if I (and Charles) were invisible to the earl and his wife. They had been naked before me, yet the greater familiarity was allowing me to watch this routine intimacy of one of the most remarkable dynastic marriages in England. There was no passion between them, but there was a strong respect, and they both listened to the other.

It was only when Charles was gone and both the earl and his wife fully dressed, the earl shaking out his mantle in preparation to going outside, that they dragged me into the conversation.

‘I saw Maeb last night,’ said the earl to the Lady Adelie, and my heart started into my mouth, ‘as she was going to bed and I returning to you. I spoke briefly with her about Saint-Valery’s offer. She was not pleased.’

Lady Adelie turned to regard me. ‘It is a good offer, Maeb. He is a man of wealth, with several lordships and estates and great influence. It is a far better match than I could have hoped for you.’

I stood with my eyes downcast, not knowing how to respond.

‘Maeb understands what comes attached to the offer,’ Pengraic said.

‘Ah,’ Lady Adelie said. She took a breath, considering the matter. ‘This must seem strange to you, Maeb, and perhaps not welcome, but you have yet to learn the ways of the court. The king is a kindly man and a generous one. He has a warm heart. In many respects, he is the one who will provide the security in your life, not Saint-Valery.’

‘I cannot believe that you recommend this path to me, madam,’ I said, almost in tears. ‘Why not trade me in the cattle yards next market day? You may yet get an even higher offer for me.’

‘You have a poor habit of speaking your mind, mistress,’ the earl snapped. ‘It is not pleasing, nor will it ease your path in life.’

‘I have not spoken all I could,’ I snapped back at him, so angry and hurt that I cared not what I said. ‘As well you know, my lord.’

The countess looked at her husband, an eyebrow raised.

‘I will not accept Saint-Valery’s offer,’ I said, still looking at the earl, ‘unless you force my hand.’

Lady Adelie sighed, but the earl held my gaze steadily. I was playing a dangerous game here, for he knew that I was threatening to break my silence about last night.

‘No wonder your father did not manage to marry you away,’ Pengraic said softly, ‘for you have the temper and petulance of a harridan. What man could possibly want you for a wife? You would curdle the milk in the dairy as soon as you laid eyes on it.’