Authors: Ellen Jones
With a half-guilty, half-defiant look over her shoulder, Maud slipped off her cloak and headed for the river. Her shoes sank into the muddy grass, so she stooped to remove them, then her black stockings as well. The feeling of her bare feet against the soft moist ground was delicious. Running lightly over the grass, she stopped just short of the river.
The reeds slowly parted and before Maud’s astonished gaze the torso of a naked man rose up from the riverbank. For a moment she had the wild thought that she had come upon a woodland god, the legendary Pan of ancient Greek fable that she had heard about. She caught a quick glimpse of wide shoulders; wet honey-colored hair framed an arresting face with high cheekbones, a curved sensual mouth, and cleft chin. Under tawny brows, arched like the wings of a hawk, green eyes flecked with gold locked with hers. Maud’s heart lurched within her breast; danger, fear, excitement—which it was she could not plainly tell. With a sudden surge of recognition, her breath caught in her throat. The moment, reverberating like a cathedral bell, catapulted her back to another time, another place.
M
AUD, PRINCESS OF ENGLAND,
shrank back against the damp stone wall of her father’s castle. The fat greyhound puppy, Beau, clutched tightly against her small body, growled softly. Around the corner of the narrow passage she could hear the ominous tread of booted feet coming toward her. It must be one of the guards.
Where could she hide? If no one could find her, she thought, suddenly hopeful, the Imperial escort might leave Windsor without her. Holy Mother, she prayed, do not let them take me away to Germany to be married. Cautiously, she looked down the still deserted passageway and saw the nail-studded oak door of her mother’s solar slightly ajar. Running toward it, Maud pushed the door open and slipped inside. Her eyes scanned the open casement window, gold and scarlet tapestries swaying in the April breeze, the royal arms emblazoned on the walls, the prie-dieu and ivory crucifix. The room was empty.
Her disappointment was so intense that her head started throbbing. Yet what else had she expected? When had the Queen of England, her mother, ever been a refuge? But today, of all the days in her nine years of life, today when her need was desperate, she had hoped it would be different.
The sound of heavy footsteps stopped just outside the solar. Maud darted toward the tapestries, sliding quickly behind the soft folds just as someone pushed open the door. Sick with dread, she buried her face in Beau’s silken fur.
“Maud! Where are you, child?” She winced at the sound of Aldyth’s anxious voice. Distant kinswoman of her Saxon mother, Aldyth had acted as combination nurse and foster mother ever since her birth. “I know you’re here, a guard saw you open the door. Maud! Come out at once!”
Maud’s heart thumped so loudly she was sure Aldyth must hear it. The puppy, struggling to be free, gave a sharp bark. Footsteps approached the tapestries.
“By the Rood, here you are!” Aldyth’s plump arm reached behind the tapestries, jerking her out. “What mischief is this? The Emperor’s escort is ready to leave for Germany, and I have run out of excuses to feed your father.” She paused. “He’s threatening to whip you.”
Aldyth scanned Maud’s appearance with critical concern. The thick, cinnamon-colored hair, twined with gilt ribbon, fell in two plaits to the tiny waist, framing a creamy oval face. From under dark feathered brows, luminous eyes the color of pewter stared fearfully at Aldyth. The slender body, almost lost in the saffron gown and amber velvet tunic, was stiff with fear. Aldyth’s face softened and she made a clucking sound as she straightened the skirt of Maud’s gown.
“No tears or tantrums, my child. The King is not to be trifled with this morning. Give me that animal.” She pried the puppy loose from Maud’s grasp and set it on its feet. “Come.” She held out her hand.
Maud shrank back against the tapestries. “I don’t want to leave England, Aldyth. Oh, please, can’t you find a way for me to stay?”
“What has come over you, child? You’ve known for months that you must leave in April. The betrothal ceremony is to be held next month.”
Maud stared at her in stricken silence. It was true. She had known she was to travel to Germany in order to become the betrothed of the powerful Holy Roman Emperor, a man close to her father’s age, ever since his envoys had arrived at the English court to ask for her hand a year ago. The offer had been presented to her as a great honor for the House of Normandy. At the time, the prospect of going to strange places had seemed exciting, an adventure she could lord over her twin brother, William, her father’s heir and the focal point of everyone’s attention. But now that the moment had actually arrived, she was filled with fear and anguish.
“Come, my poppet,” Aldyth continued in a wheedling voice. “Let us find your father and tell him you’re ready to go.” She held out a plump hand.
Maud’s lower lip began to tremble. “Where is Madam, my mother?”
“The Queen is in the chapel, praying you will have a safe journey.”
“All she does is pray,” Maud murmured with an unaccustomed surge of bitterness, wondering, not for the first time, how her mother had managed to become a queen when she behaved in all aspects like a nun. How could she have believed for a moment that the pious Queen would be able to protect her against her formidable father?
She knew it was wicked to have such thoughts about her devout mother, but at the moment she did not care; her pent-up fears suddenly burst out of control.
“Please, please, please don’t make me go,” she cried. In despair she threw herself onto the newly spread rushes of the solar floor. The soft grasses mixed with wildflowers felt cool against her burning cheeks.
Suddenly the door of the solar swung open with terrifying force. Henry, King of England and Duke of Normandy, strode into the solar, two greyhound pups snapping at his heels. He was followed by his only legitimate son, Prince William, and the eldest of his bastard sons, Robert. The King’s hooded black eyes widened in disapproval when he saw Maud on her knees.
“By God’s splendor, Mistress, what wickedness is this? Get up at once!”
Mortified, Maud rose hastily to her feet, brushing bits of grass off her skirts. Her father, his bull-like frame clad in rusty brown tunic and hose, the crown of England planted firmly on his dark head, folded thick muscular arms across a broad chest.
“What is the meaning of this unseemly behavior?” His soft voice held a threatening undertone. “The emperor’s ambassador, Graf von Hennstien, grows impatient to leave.”
“I don’t want to go to Germany to be married, Sire,” Maud said in a choked voice.
“Not want to go? Not want to go?” Henry turned to the two boys. “Did you hear that, my sons? I arrange the finest match in Christendom for your sister and the ungrateful creature refuses to go!”
Henry swung round and scowled at Maud. “What in God’s name is the difficulty now? Are you squeamish about the marriage itself? I’ve already explained that it won’t be celebrated until you are thirteen, but the betrothal ceremony has been arranged for May since last year. This was a convenient time for the Emperor and the plans cannot be altered now.”
He hooked his thumbs in the wide leather belt encircling his waist and began to pace the solar on legs bowed from many hours in the saddle. He strode to the prie-dieu with its pale blue cushion, wheeled around, and walked back to Maud. The two pups tumbled after him, joined by Maud’s puppy, the runt of the litter.
“I just don’t want to leave home,” Maud whispered. “Please, I beg of you, let me remain in England.”
“Where is the Queen?” Henry asked Aldyth, ignoring Maud. “Why isn’t she here to deal with this coil? Why are such tasks left always to me?”
“She’s in the chapel, Sire,” the Saxon nurse replied.
The King glowered at Maud. “I need not have asked. If your mother spent less time on her knees and more time teaching you the rudiments of proper behavior we would all be better served!” He took a menacing step in her direction, as if she were to blame for the Queen’s absence.
“Robert—don’t let him send me away.” In desperation, Maud ran to her half-brother, a sturdy youth of fourteen, with deep-set dark eyes and brown hair, a gentler version of his father. They had developed a deep affection for each other ever since Robert had come to live at court three years earlier.
“Think of all the merry times you will have, Sister,” her half-brother said, as he put an arm around her shoulders.
“There’s no more time to waste,” Henry said. “Robert, fetch me a riding whip from the stables.”
Robert’s face paled. He tightened his arm protectively around Maud’s shoulders. “Let me talk to Maud alone, Sire. I can convince her to be reasonable.”
“The time for talk is over. A disobedient child is like an unwilling ass. It must be made to obey. Get me the whip.”
“I’ll get one for you, Father.” Maud’s twin brother, William, flaxen-haired and blue-eyed, gave his sister a nasty smile as he ran from the solar.
“Do you think to shame me before the Emperor’s escort? To make me the laughingstock of Europe? By God’s splendor, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.”
At the ominous tone in her father’s voice, Maud’s stomach twisted into a coiled knot; terrified, she clung to her brother like a leech.
William ran into the solar waving a short leather whip in one hand. “Here, Sire.” He brandished the whip above his head with a triumphant smirk.
As far back as Maud could remember William had hated her. Jealous of her place in the King’s affections, which he resented sharing with a girl who was quicker at her lessons and more skilled at games, he lost no opportunity to be cruel, consistently rejecting her clumsy attempts to win his love. Now, enraged and hurt at her twin’s gloating expression, Maud suddenly leapt at William, knocking him headlong to the ground. The whip flew from his grasp, and he set up a loud howl as she fell upon him. Clawing, biting, pulling at his flaxen curls, Maud managed to leave several scratches on her brother’s pink and white face before Robert succeeded in prying her loose.
King Henry picked up the whip and slapped the leather thongs into his open palm. “Come here, girl, we’ll soon exorcise that willful demon.”
Maud clutched at Robert with all her strength but Aldyth dragged her rigid body across the rushes to the King. William continued to lie on the ground, sniveling and whimpering.
“Stop bleating like a goat,” King Henry growled. “You ought to be ashamed, William, letting a girl get the better of you. If you don’t learn to defend yourself more successfully, what kind of a prince will you make, eh?” He gave his son a hard look, before muttering under his breath, “I always said Maud should have been the boy.”
William turned crimson. His sobs abated as he rose to his feet and wiped his dripping nose with the sleeve of his grubby tan jerkin. Hatred gleamed in his pale blue eyes as he glanced at his sister.
As the King approached, Maud, her face white and pinched, slowly backed away. His hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder with fingers of steel. She twisted away from his grasp, almost wrenching her arm from its socket, then ran toward the bed, stumbled against an oak table, and fell to her knees. Quicker than the blink of an eye he was beside her. She tried to crawl under the table but his booted black foot barred her way. Maud saw his arm lift in a menacing gesture, heard the sound of the whip whistling through the air as his hand descended. Through her gown and tunic she could feel a stinging pain as the leather thongs bit into her back.
Her body sagged forward against her knees. She made no outcry but bit her lip, drawing blood. Tears welled up in her gray eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
“Stop that weeping at once,” Henry commanded sternly as he towered over her. “A granddaughter of the Conqueror does not cry, no matter how great the provocation. Never did I see my mother shed a single tear.”
Beau began to howl. Henry reached down to pat the sleek gray head. Straightening, he again lifted his arm.
Maud swallowed convulsively, brushing the tears away with her hand. Tightly screwing her eyes shut, she squared her shoulders, tensing herself for the next blow.
“How stupid Maud is,” William said to Robert in a spiteful voice. “Imagine not wanting to be a queen.”
Henry glanced swiftly toward William, then down at Maud. After a moment he lowered his arm, slapping the whip thoughtfully against his thigh. Squatting down in front of her, he lifted Maud’s chin with his strong fingers.
“Your brother William is wrong, is he not? Surely you wish to be a queen, an empress?”
“Yes,” she whispered, with a defiant look at her brother, willing to agree to anything that would make the despicable William wrong.
Tossing aside the whip, Henry slowly lifted the crown from his head, and put it solemnly into her hands. The gold plates studded with sapphires and rubies felt cool and heavy against her fingers.
“Men have fought and died to possess this crown,” he said, his eyes fixed upon her in an unblinking stare. “Your grandfather, the great William, took it by conquest amid much bloodshed and suffering. Regard it well.” He paused as she looked down. “It represents power, wealth, respect. Everything that matters in this world. When you become an empress such a crown will be yours.”
With everyone’s eyes on her, Maud turned the glittering gold plates over and over in her hands. Such a small thing, really, to carry so much importance.
“To refuse this opportunity would be considered the deadliest insult imaginable, Daughter.” Henry leaned toward her, his voice low and conspiratorial. “After all, you have been promised to the Emperor, agreements have been made. Think of the disgrace. Would you bring his wrath down upon our house because you were too cowardly to leave home?”
“What would he do?” she whispered. Her father’s familiar odor of horses, sweat, and damp leather was particularly strong this morning.
“Attack England perhaps. His army is vastly superior to mine. To offend so mighty a prince—would you put us all at risk?”
Fighting back the tears, Maud knew further resistance would be futile. The whipping alone would not have budged her, but now she felt as if the welfare of the realm rested upon her shoulders. What could she do? There was no choice.