The Forsaken Monarch Read online

  The truce between my husband and Stephen did allow my boys to come join me in Argentan for the season of Advent, and this was a source of no little comfort. I had not seen them for almost two years, though I had spent every moment devoted to their cause. Henry was by then more than four years old and his brother Geoffrey not far behind. Young William had become more active and made sounds we all attempted to translate. Amid the gloom of those days, it was a joy to have my sons so near. I had hoped and prayed for them for so long, and though I daily feared for the state of their inheritance, it was a blessing to simply share their company. After all, it was the first time I had all three of them together. Not even my usual annoyance with their father could steal away my joy.

  On Christmas Eve, as we waited for supper to be made ready, I let Adela play with the younger boys in one room while I read to Henry by the fire in the great hall. Rather, I let Henry read to me, for he was just beginning to make sense of the words on the page. Two couches had been placed near the hearth in the middle of the room, and we sat together on one of them, he resting against my shoulder and I holding the book open. There were few adornments on the stone walls, and the light red paint was peeling to reveal the yellow stone beneath, but it hardly mattered: reading with my son was the greatest magic of the season.

  We had only been at it a few minutes when Drogo entered through the door before us, the look on his face one of complete surprise. He stood just across the threshold, as if he was afraid to move any further.

  “What is it, Drogo?” I asked, suddenly very nervous. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “You have a visitor, my lady. You won’t believe who it is.”

  “Saint Nicholas with coins!” Henry guessed.

  “No, someone rather more alive,” the knight replied.

  I was in no mood for questions. “Enough of these games, Drogo. Just tell us!”

  Before he could answer, another man came through the door still clothed for the winter weather. He threw back his hood, and when I saw his face, it almost caused my heart to stop.

  “Who is that, mother?” young Henry asked.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That is your uncle, Henry: Earl Robert of Gloucester, ambassador from the reign of error.”

  There before us stood the man to whom all our thoughts had turned for the past two years: the man who, in lending his support to Stephen, had made an end of my hopes. Beneath a beard that had grown gray, I could see his lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily, either from exercise or fear. Why had he come? Had he come alone? Of all the betrayals I had experienced over the past year, his was the one that had hurt the most, and though I had attempted to bury that pain and carry on, seeing him again made me feel as if my heart had been pierced anew.

  “The earl requests a private audience,” Drogo explained.

  I had half a mind to throw my brother out that instant, but I sensed this would be the wrong decision. After all, he would not have come unless he had some message of great import to relay. Earl Robert was a man of such power that I simply had to hear whatever he wished to say, even if I felt like punching him. There was also something in his eyes—perhaps a sense of penitence, perhaps a last trace of brotherly affection, or perhaps the skill of a man intent to deceive. I knew not, but I knew I would regret it if I did not speak to him.

  “Very well, then,” I said quietly. “Sir Drogo, you may leave us, but my son stays. Let Earl Robert look into the eyes of the boy he cheated out of an inheritance.” As I spoke these words, I looked directly into my brother’s eyes. I hoped that they would strike at his heart that had grown cold.

  “As you wish,” Drogo said, and then departed.

  Robert and I continued to stare at one another. Without speaking, I motioned toward the couch just across from us. My brother removed his wet things, setting them down by the fire to dry, and sank into the seat with a great sigh, smoothing out his short hair. He had clearly ridden all day to reach us.

  “You must be wondering why I’ve come,” he said.

  I sat a bit more upright and firmly gripped my son, pulling him close to myself.

  “I have wondered a great many things concerning you,” I told him. “Why you denied me, offered your loyalty to that thief even after he sought to kill you, never returned my letters, abandoned so easily the love we once held … but by all means, tell me why you’ve come. We can go from there.”

  He leaned forward and folded his hands together. He seemed to be considering every word carefully.

  “I recognize the pain I have caused you, how my actions must appear,” he said. “I imagine you have lived through hell these past two years.”

  “Do not presume to know what I have suffered, you who have been content to sit in your fortress, far from the troubles of us all!” I cried.

  I was rather surprised to hear him laugh. It seemed he did not agree with my judgment. My anger increased.

  “I can see that it will not do for me to circle around the point, so let me come to it directly,” he continued. “I was there with the king when he died, and I was forced to stay with the body until it was shipped off to England. I was as surprised to hear of Stephen’s elevation as you no doubt were. I was trying to prevent his brother from seizing the throne, only to find that it was already taken. I knew then that my choice would be vital, and I feared for England under Stephen’s control. He is a man of inferior character, not fit to sit upon the throne of Saint Edward. We have both known that for years.”

  “Then why did you offer him your fealty?” I inquired, finding no peace in his words.

  “I could see that it would do no good to fight Stephen at that time. The earls had all declared for him along with the Church, and he had the royal treasury at his command. I could not have defeated him in open battle, and wherever I went, his spies followed. I sent word to Brian fitz Count, asking if he might have heard something from you, but he had not.”

  “I must have sent you twenty messages!” I cried.

  He nodded. “I do not doubt it, but only one or two of them actually made it to my door, and I was afraid to open them, for I knew that even those within my own household might report me, and then my lands and all my wealth would be forfeit. It took me some time to determine who among my servants was true. In the meantime, as I said, I spoke with Brian, and we both decided it was best to pledge our allegiance to Stephen, the better to win his trust. Then we might work to eat away at his support. But this is the key: when I pledged to him, I did so on the condition that he would abide by all his promises. I knew full well that he would break them within the year, and thus I would be released from my oath. It was all for show. Maud, I have spent the past two years making efforts on your behalf. My true loyalty to you has never ceased.”

  This struck me as hard to believe, and I scoffed openly. “If that is true, then why did you fail to inform me of your intentions? Count Geoffrey marched within ten miles of your home, but you did nothing!”

  “Forgive me, but I do not trust Count Geoffrey. I think he may be your real enemy and not Stephen, for I hear nothing but complaints from those who have had the misfortune of being in his path. They say his men violate both the law and the women. Two years of fighting, and he has nothing to show for it.”

  Somewhat to my dismay, my brother had made a good point. I too had been frustrated with Count Geoffrey’s lack of progress, and I had heard the same rumors about his behavior. I did not doubt that he made as many enemies as he defeated. However, this would never have been a problem had Robert remained faithful to me and served as my commander.

  “No thanks to those of you who have been fighting for the other side!” I declared, letting go of my son and leaning forward slightly to yell at him all the better.

  “I have been fighting for you the whole time!” he argued, pressing down upon his seat. “At Exeter, when Baldwin’s men surrendered, Stephen was going to have them all killed. Thanks to me, he spared their lives—indeed, he let them leave
and follow whatever lord they preferred. When he came here to make war on you, I did not take part. No, I remained in Caen and did nothing to help him.”

  “And nothing to help us.”

  “There you are wrong. I was working with our brother, Reginald. I entreated him to declare for you, knowing that Stephen trusted him so completely that he would not have set so many spies about him.”

  Again, I scoffed. “He never mentioned anything of the sort.”

  “Because I told him not to! Indeed, the very rumor that I might have spoken with Reginald was enough to place me in peril. No sooner had I done so, than I received several summons to court, only I knew that Stephen intended to have me arrested for treason. He sent the wolf of Ypres after me with enough men to kill me ten times over! Of course, when I was able to prove their guilt, they were forced to repent. Even so, I saw that I could no longer work in the shadows, for Stephen would have me killed either way. I waited for him to leave, and now I have come to you.”

  I did not reply, but simply sat there with my arms crossed, staring at my brother. I thought back on everything that had happened in the past two years. It was possible that his story could be true. Everything seemed to fit. Part of me longed to accept it—to believe that there was still goodness in the world, and that the pain I had felt could be removed. But part of me remained unwilling to believe and desperate to punish.

  “Mother?” Henry suddenly said, rather meekly.

  I had been so caught up in Robert’s words that I had quite forgotten the child sitting beside me in silence. I looked down and saw that his eyes were rather wide. He did not seem comfortable with the discussion.

  “Yes, my love?” I replied, brushing the red curls back from his face.

  “May I go play with Geoffrey?”

  I nodded my head. “Perhaps you had better.”

  He made his way out, and it was just my brother and I sitting across from each other, one set of eyes meeting the other.

  “Maud, you must believe me!” he pleaded, as soon as the door was shut.

  “Earl Robert, I have heard your tale, and a part of me does want to believe it, but given that you have already gone back on your word, I have no reason to think that you might not do so again. Tell me, if you have always been content to work in secret, why should you approach me now? Perhaps you have only been working for yourself.”

  “I come to you now because I believe that Stephen is weak. His reign is failing. He does not see it yet, but all around him the walls are crumbling and about to give way. He has gone to such trouble to promote the Famille Beaumont that he has become blind to the discontent of those around him. His brother, Bishop Henry, hates Waleran with the blinding heat of a thousand suns, as does Bishop Roger of Salisbury. It will not be long before one of them eats the other. And as for Stephen, he has already spent most of the money he took from the treasury to satisfy his Flemish mercenaries. We have seen what that did when he was in Normandy, with William of Ypres chasing off all the Normans. I tell you, he is making enemies on all sides, and it will not be long before they are looking to change their allegiance. That is why I dare to speak to you now, and if you will have me, I intend in the New Year to declare myself wholly your supporter. I will lead my men into battle on your behalf, I swear to you!”

  His words were like a balm for my soul, yet I had been spurned so many times that I had learned to trust no one. I looked again into his eyes, searching for something—I knew not what.

  “It seems too good to be true, that you could have been on my side all along,” I said, tears forming in my eyes. “Robert, you cannot know how many times I prayed to God that you would keep your oath. I did not understand why you should give yourself over to your chief enemy.” My voice broke and I breathed in deeply. “Robert, I loved you, and I thought you loved me. When I thought I had lost that love—”

  “But now you know that you did not lose it!” he said, moving over to sit next to me. “I never betrayed you, nor did Brian, nor did any of your true friends. We are with you, and our time is coming. Stephen’s reign will be at an end.”

  I wiped my eyes and laughed softly. “Careful! I did not say yet whether I would accept your conversion. But you have spoken with Lord Brian? He supports our cause?”

  “Of course he does! He loves you too. You know that.”

  “You mean as his ruler—his lady.”

  He tilted his head slightly. “Yes, as his lady and as a woman.”

  “Ha!” I cried, shaking my head. “I do not think he could love me that much if he abandoned me.”

  “That again? For God’s sake! Listen, Maud. Our father is dead now, so I will tell you plainly. Brian spoke with the king and asked for you as his wife: a mark of courage if ever there was one, for he knew he would likely be sent into poverty. I told him beforehand that he was out of his mind, and he had always been a man of such good sense, but his will was set in stone. He thought the hazard was on his part alone and that he was sparing you from harm, but he was wrong. The king said that if he did not marry the Lady Mathilda of Wallingford straight away, he would strip you of your titles and your inheritance, force you both into exile, and have you excommunicated! That is why Brian did what he did. The king forbade him to speak the truth of what happened to you out of fear that it might prevent you from giving him up. Brian was made to act as if he was indifferent to you, but he struggled to play that role. He inquired with me often about your welfare. Trust me, there is no one on earth who is more on your side than Lord Brian. You may be as certain of his loyalty as you are of mine, if not more so.”

  Well, those were words I did not think to ever hear! I sensed by this admission as much as anything that Earl Robert must be telling the truth. Perhaps that was what my heart wanted to believe, but it did make sense. In the space of a moment, I had come to view the past several years of my life differently. I thought I had been forsaken by the only man I ever loved, but suddenly I saw that I was not forsaken at all: indeed, Brian had remained true to me in every way he could, even as I had avoided him, scorned him, and attempted to cut him out of my life. And of course I still loved him, even as he still loved me. I could not prevent a small smile from breaking out on my face, and Robert was quick to seize on it.

  “Ah, I see I should have led off with that!” my brother proclaimed. “But what say you? Do you accept my offer of fealty? I have already hazarded my own life for you, and I will do so as many times as it takes until you and your son receive back what is rightfully yours.”

  I shook my head and took his hands in my own. “If what you say is true, then of course, I welcome you gladly—nay, joyfully! Robert, you have no idea how happy you have made me, and not just because we have a real chance of victory now. To have every person I loved turn their back on me and break their word, to be without friends or family in this world: that is how I have felt these past two years. Do you know how much I have missed you? Every time something would happen, I would say to myself, ‘I wish Robert was here. We might have laughed about that!’ I see now what you have done for me. I wish I could have rewarded you earlier, but I will do so now.”

  “My reward will be to see England restored to its proper order.”

  “With your help, it shall be,” I said, letting go of his hands. “But what do we do now?”

  “We must wait until the moment when Stephen is weakest. He is a good enough soldier, but a poor administrator. Not much longer now, and he will have given the lords of England and Normandy a reason to rebel. And the Church has supported him on account of his brother, Bishop Henry, but already that bond is under great strain. Stephen bought the Church with promises he cannot keep. In time, he may well lose their support, and that will be our sign. I have men that can be called on to fight, and they will not fail me, they will not fail us. Have patience, sister! When the moment comes, the usurper will not know what hit him. We will make him pay for what he has done to you!”

  “Honestly, Robert, as much as I may cherish the thought
of revenge, my main concern is for my sons. It is for them that I fight.”

  “Very well spoken. Now, did I smell food when I came in?” he asked, rising from his seat.

  “Yes, I think they have made something, but it’s not grand. We are in the middle of a war, after all.”

  He nodded. “War has a way of making the smallest morsels seem like manna from heaven. Come, let us eat together! I want to meet these nephews, but then I must be away. Stephen cannot know that I was here.”

  “I understand,” I said, rising from the couch. “Thank you for coming, Robert. You have made this the best Christmas.”

  He placed his arm around me. “With God’s help, the next one will be even better.”

  XXIII

  The return of Earl Robert of Gloucester into my life seemed to awaken my spirit. I felt a hope I had not enjoyed in years. Of course, it did not hurt that I had also learned the truth about Brian. I would have preferred a good three days’ discussion on that subject, but sadly, we were in the middle of a war and it was necessary for my brother to depart before Stephen discovered his trip to Argentan.

  I do remember something Robert said to me shortly before he departed: something that came almost as a revelation from God.

  “When King Henry saw the courage that you and Brian displayed on behalf of one another and the sacrifice you were willing to endure, I believe it struck him with fear. The love you shared was pure, and I do not think our father understood pure love or had ever experienced it. He had known both desire and pride, but neither of those things is quite the same as love. Every thought and feeling he had was oriented to and through himself rather than given on behalf of another, and because he could not properly give, he could not properly receive. Yes, your love and courage scared him, and so he responded the only way he knew how: with brute force. He saw something that seemed to oppose him, and he had to crush it. Force was the only language he truly understood—you and I both know this. He was a man of war. Not like you, Maud. You can feel and feel deeply. Some say that is a weakness, and the pain you have endured has perhaps made it seem so, but it is also a strength. Because you feel deeply, you live more fully. You can perceive the motives of others, and while some would merely use this for their advantage, you also use it for the advantage of others. You are clever as a fox, but you can also be kind. Our father was a bull who knew only how to charge. That was his great failing.”