The Forsaken Monarch Read online

  “Well said.”

  I had put on a blue silk dress and the finest fur mantle I possessed for this occasion, draping my neck in several chains. During the months of mourning in the empire, I had covered myself in layers of gray, black, and brown, but it was time to put such things behind me. I was, after all, a woman of only three and twenty years—a widow, but not an aged one. It was essential that I look my best, for this would be the first time any of them would see me as Empress Mathilda, and I intended to prove it to them.

  “How does my hair look, Drogo?” I asked, tending to a few stray bits. “Is it all still in place? Is my veil crooked?”

  “How should I know?” he asked, looking at me with no more interest than one might grant to a turnip.

  “Oh, come now! You are not blind yet. Do I have any dirt on my face? How do I look?!”

  I held my hands up as if to present myself for show and turned first to the right and then to the left.

  “I don’t know. You look very nice.” He spoke the latter sentence almost with the air of a question, clearly seeking to end the conversation as soon as possible.

  “‘Very nice.’ That is what you get from a man,” I concluded, throwing up my hands.

  We had reached the pier. The ship was being tied up and the plank lowered. My heart, which had been beating firmly for the past hour or so, quickened still further.

  Breathe, Maud. Just breathe, I told myself.

  As I turned and made to alight from the boat, cousin Stephen was standing there waiting, holding out a hand to support me.

  “Empress Mathilda!” he said, bowing once I had set foot on land. “The king has sent me to welcome you home.”

  Your home, but not mine, I thought.

  “Count Stephen, isn’t it?” I asked, although I knew the answer. “It has been too long! It was good of you to come.”

  I took his hand and stepped down on to shore. How strange it was to speak to him after so many years! Then again, we had never spoken much in the past. During his two visits to England, I had been too young to converse much with my elders.

  “I hear you are wed to my cousin Mathilda, lately made countess of Boulogne,” I said, as he began to lead me toward the two horses, who I now saw were tied to a pole.

  “Yes, we have been married a few months now,” he replied with a smile.

  “Will the countess be joining us here in Caen?”

  “No, I traveled here at the king’s pleasure, but she preferred to stay behind.”

  I wondered if I should ask him about the trouble with William Clito and the count of Flanders, but I thought the better of it. After all, I hardly knew him.

  “This is the horse that will take you up to the castle. He is quite gentle,” Stephen explained, untying the handsome white stallion from the pole.

  As he did so, I turned back to see what the others were doing. The men were passing the chests down the plank in a line, while Drogo stood at the end examining each one for damage.

  “Sir Drogo!” I called.

  When he turned and saw that I was ready to ride, he came over at once and helped me on to the animal, while Stephen mounted his own black horse, which was slightly taller than my own. With my knight’s help, I sat in the usual womanly manner.

  “Not quite like when we escaped from Goslar, is it?” Drogo whispered, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Yes, with any luck, I will never have to share a horse with you again,” I replied.

  I rode with my cousin the short distance—about half a mile—from the river up the hill to the fortress established by the first King William. We passed by the rows of timber houses and shops on narrow, winding streets, and as we rose higher, I caught a brief glimpse down one of the roads to the abbey church off to the west.

  “Is that where our grandfather is buried? At the abbey?” I asked, pointing.

  “Yes, and his wife sleeps at the nunnery. You must have seen it when you came in.”

  “Yes.”

  The conversation stopped there, and I struggled to withhold the thousands of questions in my mind. The stone walls of the castle had risen up before us, but it was necessary to ride around to the northern side to enter. Apparently, grandfather William had hoped to avoid an assault from the river.

  “It is rather large, isn’t it?” I said, as we galloped past yard after yard of stone piled upon stone.

  “You will find it in a state of construction,” Stephen replied. “The keep is completed now, but the king is building a new hall far grander than the current one.”

  That sounds like him, I mused.

  Above us, I could hear the guards yelling to one another, “Count Stephen and the empress have returned! Inform the royal court!”

  After we had ridden for at least another furlong, we came at last to the stone tower where a tall wood gate swung open before us, giving way to a sight I had long imagined. It was not the stone keep to the left that caught my eye, but the crowd standing in the courtyard beside it. There must have been a hundred people gathered there, but one stood out among them: King Henry of England, my father. His hair was gray, and there was far less of it than I remembered, to say nothing of his expanded waist. There were trumpets playing, and the crowd let out a great cheer as we rode through the gate. “All hail, Empress Mathilda!” they cried. I brought the horse to a halt and the king himself stepped forward to help me down.

  “My own daughter!” he proclaimed. “What joy it brings me to see you here among us!”

  It was one of those odd moments when one finds it difficult to accept the sight before one’s eyes. To look upon my father again after all those years stirred up such feelings within me. I was pleased to see that he was smiling, and I was tempted to believe that he really was joyful at my return. He reached up his hand, and as I placed my own in his I could feel the firmness of his skin—the callouses gathered over years of battle. In that kingly grip, I might be saved or crushed if he had a will. But for just that moment in time, I had only one thought. This is my father, bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh.

  My feet touched the ground and he let go of my hand.

  “Your Highness,” I said, bowing my head. “Thank you for sending Count Stephen to welcome us.”

  “Here, there is someone I wish for you to meet,” he said. “My queen, Adeliza.”

  He stepped back to reveal a rather small woman who was nevertheless just as lovely as I remembered, even if her crown rather overwhelmed her little head. It had likely been made for my mother, and though she wore it in great state, it may have been a bit heavy for her.

  “Empress Mathilda,” she said, stepping forward with her hands clasped together. “Welcome to Normandy. How was your journey?”

  “Rather longer than I had hoped, but we survived. It is good to see you again! I believe we only met the one time.”

  She smiled a bit meekly. It seemed she was not entirely comfortable with the situation. No wonder, for she must have felt the weight of comparison with the former queen, my beloved mother. If she doubted that she would match the greatness of her predecessor, I knew she could not, but not one in a hundred queens could do so. Indeed, I myself knew that I was unlikely to ever enjoy the love of the people as my mother had, nor to match her level of piety. Therefore, as much as it pained me to be meeting Queen Adeliza upon my return rather than my own mother, I felt compassion for this young woman who, like me, had been brought far from home to marry a much older man.

  “Es gibt keinen Grund zur Sorge,” I said to her. “Ich weiß, woher Sie kommen—Ihre große Familie. England hat das Glück, Sie als seine Königin zu haben.”

  Her eyes lit up at these words. I had guessed that she might be more at ease with the German tongue, and I was correct.

  “Sie sind zu freundlich, Kaiserin Mathilda!” she said. “Ich kenne alle gut Sie für das Reich getan haben. Ich hoffe, dass wir Freunde sein können.”

  “Ich würde das mögen!” I agreed.

  “What is this?” the king asked. “I sen
d you off for a few years, and now you are speaking in code with my wife!”

  “There is nothing to fear,” I assured him. “I was merely thanking the queen for all the good she has done for England.”

  My father bent close and whispered in my ear, “Would that she were doing a bit more good in bed!” Then, so that all might hear, he said, “Here is the steward of this fortress, Raymond, and Bishop Richard of Bayeux, and the abbot of Saint Étienne …”

  He continued down the line of officials as I acknowledged each of them in turn. Then he came to someone who meant a bit more to me.

  “And this handsome man right here is my son Robert, earl of Gloucester!” the king declared, patting him on the back.

  “Of course!” I said. “Brother Robert!”

  It was indeed my elder half brother. When last we had met, he was already a full man and I was still a girl. He could have avoided me and William, but instead he had doted on us. The only trouble was that we were not often in the same place. Seeing his bright green eyes and easy smile again brought back feelings I had almost forgotten, and I hoped with all my heart that I would have a chance to spend more time with him and feel that we were truly family.

  “Empress Mathilda,” he said, removing himself from the grip of the king and bowing low. “You will find that many things have changed here, but I have not. I’m just as much trouble as ever.”

  “But who is this?” I asked, looking at the young boy standing next to him.

  “This, I am proud to say, is my eldest son, William. He has two more brothers back in England, and one sister.” He brought the boy forward, placed his hands on his shoulders, and commanded, “Say ‘good morrow’ to your aunt, William!”

  The lad’s head hit just above his father’s waist, with dark curls reaching down to below his chin and topped by a red cap. I did not remember his father’s hair ever being quite that extraordinary, and as Robert’s hair was rather short at the moment, it would have been hard to believe he was the boy’s father had they not shared the same eyes. How small he seemed in the shadow of the great warrior!

  “Good morrow,” William said meekly. “Are you the empress then?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am,” I answered, bending down ever so slightly to meet his gaze.

  “So are you more powerful than Grandfather?” the boy asked.

  “Ha!” the king scoffed. “This boy has some cheek, Robert. Mind you teach him what is right!”

  I, on the other hand, was most pleased with my nephew’s question and might have handed him a bag of gold for his effort had it not seemed imprudent.

  “Nephew William,” I told him, “I think we will get along just fine.”

  “Empress Maud,” a voice called.

  Even before I turned to look at the speaker, I knew who it was. The sight of his dark hair and hazel eyes only confirmed it: this was Brian fitz Count.

  “No one has called me that in a very long time,” I said.

  “Well, that is your name, is it not? Do you remember mine?” he asked, smiling.

  “I could not forget you, Lord Brian. I still have the stone you gave me when I was young. I treasured it during my time in Germany. It always called me home.”

  “Oh? Forgive me. I do not remember that,” he said.

  I wondered if I had said too much, but he was most certainly the one who gave me the amber moth.

  “Here, meet another of my lads, Robert Beaumont,” my father said, directing me down the line.

  “Yes, of course,” I replied, shaking the next man’s hand.

  My mind was still caught up in the last conversation, for as foolish as it might seem, I was slightly hurt that Lord Brian did not remember giving me the stone that had become so precious. It was only after my fingers were clasped within those of the burly Robert Beaumont that I suddenly remembered it was his brother Waleran who had mounted a rebellion against the king, and I wondered if I should have embraced that hand after all.

  “Robert is the most faithful of subjects, and a good friend of Stephen and the other young men,” the king said, evidently guessing my suspicion.

  “So do we call you Empress Mathilda or Empress Maud?” the young William interrupted.

  I turned back to him and smiled. “You may call me aunt if you wish, but I answer to either name. Maud was what my mother and brother used to call me. It is just the English way of speaking.”

  Once I had finished meeting everyone, the king declared that we should all move to the hall, where a feast was made ready. I walked just behind him as he led his queen toward the new hall that had been built close to the northern wall of the castle. It was a magnificent stone building, though it stood separate from all the other structures: the kitchen was in another building just to the side. Above the main door of the hall were carved jagged lines in the shape of a half arch with rows of stars above and below. There was one window just above it and then a row of windows on each of the long sides of the building, with the wood roof inclined toward a point in the center.

  Upon entering the hall, I saw that it was far grander inside. All the walls were hung with tapestries displaying a unicorn hunt, a merry fire was lit in the center of the room, long tables on either side were covered with both food and the late flowers of autumn, and the high table on the dais was draped in cloth of gold. A herald trumpeter near the door announced the king and queen’s arrival, while four musicians stood near the dais ready to entertain us with voice, flute, lyre, and drum.

  I was seated with the king and queen on one side and brother Robert and cousin Stephen on the other. When they brought out the platters full of lampreys, I cast a smile down to Drogo, who was clearly as happy as a fox among hens.

  “Ah, I know I shouldn’t eat these, but damn it, I love them!” the king declared. “I suppose I will pay for it in the morning.”

  “Father, I brought back something to enrich the abbey of Reading,” I said, changing the subject.

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “The hand of Saint James the apostle.”

  “Really?! You astound me!” he cried, and I believed him, for he actually dropped the piece of meat he was holding on to the table. “Was that not the prize of the cathedral of Mainz? I suppose they gave it to you as a parting gift.”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes,” I said, quickly looking down at the plate in front of me.

  “Well, I shall let the monks know that they are to receive this mighty relic, and tomorrow, if you wish, we shall go to the abbey of Saint Étienne, and you can pay your respects at the tomb of King William.”

  “I should like that very much,” I said quite honestly. I had always desired to visit the grave of my great forebear.

  “So, Maud, what did you make of the Germans?” Earl Robert asked. “Are they really as dour as everyone says?”

  “No, they love humor as much as the next man, though I cannot say I left in a happy hour. The election did not go as I had hoped.”

  “That is why you do not have elections,” the king replied, hitting the base of his knife on the table. “They are simply an opportunity for men of little sense to pervert the divine order of things. I tell you, he who holds elections will end up with chaos: that is God’s honest truth.”

  “There is some merit in the process,” I argued, “but in this case, the archbishop bent it to his own advantage.”

  “Well, that is no surprise! How many times did Archbishop Anselm attempt to usurp me? He was hungry for power, that one.”

  My memories of Father Anselm were slightly different, but I felt it would not be wise to gainsay the king.

  “Tell me of your wife, Robert,” I said. “What is she like?”

  “Lady Mabel? She’s as good a wife as any man could hope for,” he replied. “She asks just enough questions but not too many, she handles all our affairs as a woman should, she has given me four wonderful children with more to come, she knows her place, she follows God, and she has brought me most of the West for my descendants.”

>   “I am glad to hear it,” I said. “It is a rare marriage that brings such contentment.”

  “Stephen here made out even better than I did, didn’t you, lad?” brother Robert teased. Dropping his voice a bit lower, he added, “That woman is so desperate for children, she never leaves his bed. I’m amazed she let you come here.”

  “It would not be proper to speak of my private affairs in public,” my cousin whispered just loud enough for us to hear, “but since you have already done so, yes, the woman is insatiable.”

  I did not enjoy them talking like that about a lady, even if I was not entirely convinced that she deserved the title. However, if there was one thing I had learned about men in my twenty-three years, it was that they could always be relied upon to make coarse jests.

  “Well, I hope I can meet Mabel some day and see the rest of my nephews and nieces,” I said, attempting to divert the conversation. “I have been without family for so long that I truly crave it. That is, I had my husband the late emperor, but no one else. Even the pleasure of letters from my mother was taken from me. So yes, I do hope to enjoy the blessings of family now.”

  “Then you must meet our brother Reginald,” said Robert, stealing some bread off of Stephen’s plate and earning an evil look in the process. “He is almost a full man. He has excellent aim.”

  I laughed. “Thank the Lord, for that is the one thing I desire in a brother: good aim!”

  “Do not dismiss it so easily.” Here he consented to place half the bread back in Stephen’s waiting hand. “You never know when you might need such a man on your side.”

  “Oh, that is too true!” I said. “The emperor was always having to defend his rightful place. If I take any comfort in his passing, it is that he finally has some peace from all of this.”

  Suddenly, one of the minstrels hired by the king stood up and declared, “Good lords and ladies—their Highnesses King Henry, Queen Adeliza, and Empress Mathilda—if you wish to dance, we will now favor you with some music!”

  The four men began to play a jolly tune, and several people started dancing in a circle around the fire. They looked so merry that, had I any confidence in my ability, I should have joined them at once. But alas, while my time in the empire had taught me many things, it had done nothing to improve my lightness of foot. Thus, I was afraid to test myself before the royal court when my reputation was yet to be established.