SLOWLY MAUD OPENED HER eyes, confused, she took in the strange chamber with its blue and gold hangings, carved oak chest, and the dark blue canopy over her head. Where was she? Gradually memory returned: the channel crossing from Normandy, landing yesterday evening at Southampton where she and Robert were met by one hundred and forty knights; the long night ride to west Sussex; the arrival at Arundel Castle and their reluctant reception by Alix’s new husband, William de Albini, Earl of Sussex.
Maud yawned and turned over to go back to sleep, when she suddenly remembered that she and Robert were due to leave for Bristol this morning. Forcing herself awake, she slid from the wide bed and quickly dressed in the serviceable brown traveling gown and tunic she had worn yesterday.
Picking up a mirror Maud examined herself, wondering if Alix would think her greatly changed since she had last seen her—sweet Marie, it must be all of six years ago now. This morning she looked absurdly young for a woman of thirty-seven with three sons. Even to her critical eye, the thick plaits of cinnamon-colored hair falling to her waist had lost none of their burnished gleam. Her creamy skin was still smooth and unblemished; her body had remained lithe and slender though perhaps a little fuller in the bosom and rounder in the hips. Only her eyes, yes, something about the smoky-gray eyes reflected an inner turmoil, a reminder of the pain and distress of the last four years.
She put the mirror away. The past was dead, Maud admonished herself, only the future mattered now. Hastily pulling a mantle over her shoulders, she left the chamber for the great hall. The trestle tables were only half filled with the Lord of Arundel’s mesnie and a few of Robert’s knights who had traveled with her yesterday. Of Robert himself there was no sign. Alix, several of her women, and the chaplain were seated at the high table. On her lap the former queen held a sleeping baby; sitting next to her was a little girl of about eighteen months.
“Alix, what a pleasure to see you!” Maud bent to kiss her stepmother’s upturned face. “So these are your children.”
Alix gave a proud smile. “And another, three months on the way.”
“You’re lovelier than ever,” Maud said, her eyes admiring Alix’s beautiful serene face framed in a white wimple, a tendril of dark gold hair curling on her ivory brow. “This marriage agrees with you, I see.”
Alix’s face turned pink as she nodded happily. “The years have treated you kindly as well, Maud. In fact, you look very little older than when we first met.”
Maud gave her a pleased smile. “Thank you. Ever since last night I’ve wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you were willing to receive me. It can’t have been an easy decision to grant me asylum, for I know your husband supports my cousin.”
“He agreed to help you for my sake, despite the risk.” Alix paused, a look of concern passing over her face. “I pray Stephen doesn’t come to hear of this. He will surely look upon any aid to you as an act of treason.”
“I’m well aware of the danger you have risked for my sake,” Maud said. “When I’ve gained the throne I’ll find a concrete way of showing my gratitude.”
Alix gave her a gentle smile. “I need no reward for following my conscience. Will you break your fast now?” She indicated platters of roast fowl, a haunch of venison, eel pies, baskets of fruit, and freshly baked bread.
Maud made a place for herself at the table; a page poured her a goblet of spiced wine while a servitor topped her trencher with food.
“Is Robert about?” Maud asked.
“He left for Wallingford with half his knights and my husband as escort at least an hour ago. From there he travels to Bristol.”
“Left! But I was to have gone with him. How could he leave without me?”
“As you were still asleep, Robert felt you should rest, while you still could, he said. He was also concerned about the dangers of traveling just now. The roads are no longer safe, as they were in your father’s day, Maud. When your brother can ensure your safety he will return for you.”
“I should be with Robert,” Maid said, disheartened. “After all, he goes to raise more men for my cause.” She gave an impatient sigh. “If I’d wanted safety I would have stayed in Anjou. I’m of a mind to go after him.”
Alix looked horrified. “Oh, my dear, you mustn’t think of such an undertaking. If Stephen’s army should get their hands on you—”
“We were told we were in no danger from Stephen’s forces,” Maud interrupted, surprised.
“His troops are rumored to be well away from these parts, true, but I beg you take no risk. As you’re a guest in my castle I’m responsible for you now.”
Maud knew Alix was right but her place was with her half brother, not cooling her heels in Arundel. It might be weeks before Robert returned. What use would she be to him shut up with the women and children?
“It must have been very painful for you to leave your sons,” Alix was saying now.
“Particularly Henry,” Maud agreed, aware of an empty ache inside her when she thought of her eldest son. “I do miss him most dreadfully. But he’s safe at Angers in Aldyth’s care. She wanted to come with me, but she’s too old now for such journeys, and ails frequently.”
Her glance followed Alix’s, whose eyes rested lovingly on the sleeping boy in her arms. If that child had been born to my father, Maud realized with a start, the succession would never have come into dispute. She would still be in Germany, Stephen would not be king, and Henry would never have been born. How different everyone’s lives would be now. That matters had fallen out as they did seemed to her a propitious omen for her future.
“For two supposedly barren wives we have done remarkably well for ourselves,” Maud said, with a twinkle in her eye.
Alix, who had been gazing raptly at her son’s face, turned her soft doe’s eyes upon Maud. The two women exchanged a look of perfect understanding, then burst out laughing.
The next two days passed without incident. Then, on her third night in Arundel, Maud was suddenly awakened from a deep sleep by someone shaking her shoulder.
“What is it?” she whispered, as she became aware of Alix standing over her, a lighted candle in one hand. “What is the hour?”
“Just after Lauds. Forgive me for waking you,” Alix said in a breathless voice, “but Wulf, captain of the guard, has just informed me of the sound of men and horses outside the castle walls.”
Maud’s heart jumped a beat. “Robert, back already?” But she knew it could not be Robert.
“The captain fears it may be the King’s forces come to besiege the castle.” The candlelight flickered on Alix’s face, revealing a look of naked fear.
“But how in heaven’s name could they know I am here?” She sat up, pulling the coverlet around her to keep warm.
“The captain thinks Arundel may have been watched, Robert and my lord seen leaving, then word sent to Stephen. It’s rumored that the King has spies everywhere.” The anxiety in Alix’s voice was palpable. “Oh Maud, I’m so frightened!’”
She has probably never experienced a siege before, Maud realized, and was ill-equipped to do so now. “How many men have been left to guard us?” she asked.
“I—I don’t know. All this is new to me. I’ve never been in any real danger before.”
“The captain is sure to know. I’ll get dressed and meet you in the great hall.” Maud grasped Alix’s icy hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so sorry to bring this trouble upon you, but don’t worry. Your husband should return any day and Robert within the week. There’s no real danger,” she added with a confidence she was far from feeling.
Alix gave her a timid smile, lit another candle on the oak table next to the bed, and left. Dressing quickly, Maud was filled with apprehension at the thought of Stephen camped outside the castle walls. If only she had gone with Robert she would be safe in Wallingford or even Bristol now. Well, there was no help for it. Let her treacherous cousin besiege the castle; he would soon know the caliber of the enemy he sought to capture! Lifting her head proudly she marched out of the chamber.
In the great hall, Maud found Wulf, captain of the guard.
“How many men do you have?” she asked him.
“Not enough, Lady, if my men are dealing with the King’s forces, particularly those Flemish devils,” he told her. “We heard Stephen was at least thirty leagues away in the west country, so my Lord of Arundel took half of the mesnie with him. The Earl of Gloucester left only a few of his knights. And as for supplies—” He shook his head in despair.
Maud’s heart sank. “Then the castle is not prepared for a long siege. How long could we hold out if forced to do so?”
“On half rations probably a month, but there’s the water to worry about, as we had a dry summer and the well is down.”
A servitor offered Maud a pewter tankard of ale. As she sipped the warming brew, she tried to hide her concern.
“It is my belief that if the King is camped outside these walls, he will send a herald to treat with Lady Alix at daybreak,” Maud said, determined not to be discouraged.
“I agree, Madam.” The captain paused, then lowered his voice. “The Lady of Arundel is with child again, as you must know. But what you may not know, Madam, is that she almost lost the last one, the heir. It is most unfortunate that this … this trouble should come upon us just now.”
He did not add, “and I hold you responsible,” but Maud heard the unspoken condemnation as clearly as if he had shouted it aloud.
At first light, Maud and Alix, accompanied by the captain, climbed to the battlements. In the gray mist of an October dawn, Maud could see an army camped below the outer walls of the castle. Small brushwood fires burned in the meadow; horses whinnied and stamped their hooves while men scurried about erecting pavilions, carrying buckets of water from the nearby river, and unloading carts. As the sun began to burn away the mist there was a sudden flash of arms.
Alix stepped quickly away from the parapet. “I feel a bit queasy,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I best go down.”
Maud looked at her anxiously, praying she would not miscarry. Reluctantly, she took a last look at the tallest of the pavilions, azure blue, arrogantly flying a silver pennant. It could only belong to the King. A surge of anger almost choked her. Gripping Alix’s arm, Maud led her down the stairs, the captain following.
As the bells rang for Tierce, a herald was ushered into the great hall. In the presence of Maud, Alix and her women, the captain and all his men, he relayed the King’s message: King Stephen was shocked and dismayed at the behavior of the Earl of Sussex and his lady. The Lord of Arundel had been seen riding from his lands escorting a sworn enemy of the realm, Earl Robert of Gloucester. The Lady of Arundel, whom King Stephen had always held in the highest regard, now harbored within her walls an avowed enemy of the realm who could not be permitted to remain.” Unless the Countess of Anjou was immediately delivered up to the King, he would be forced to besiege the castle. King Stephen had with him a large army, as they could see for themselves, and the castle would be cut off from reinforcements or aid of any kind.
Alix’s lips trembled. She clutched Maud’s hand. “You must give me a moment,” she gasped.
The herald bowed and turned away as Alix, leaning heavily on Maud, walked out of earshot.
“I deeply regret having brought this upon you,” Maud said. Two spots of color flamed in her cheeks and she could have screamed with the frustration of her dashed hopes.
To have plotted and planned for four years, waiting for just the right moment to strike. And now, when the land was seething with rebellion and discontent, when Brian’s forces were marshaled at Wallingford, Robert’s men ready at Bristol, her Uncle David poised on the border of Scotland for his third invasion of England—to be made Stephen’s prisoner within days after having landed was simply not to be borne.
Heartsick, Maud was determined not to let Alix see her bitter disappointment. Left to herself, of course, she would have defended Arundel to the death, but she could not put Alix in jeopardy. All she could hope for now was that Stephen would agree to ransom her. A pain shot through the back of her neck and she prayed one of her agonizing headaches was not going to incapacitate her.
“I’ll get my things, Alix,” she said through icy lips. “Tell the herald you’ll give me up to the usurper. Neither you nor your unborn child must be put in any more peril than already exists.”
Maud turned on her heel but Alix caught her arm.
“A moment, my dear,” she whispered. Clinging to Maud, she walked over to the herald. “I have my answer for your master.”
Clasping her hands over her belly, Alix swallowed several times before speaking. Then lifting her wimpled head with great dignity, she looked straight at the herald.
“I’m surprised,” she began in a quavering voice, “yes, surprised and shocked, to receive so unchivalrous a demand from the King. To think that such a powerful ruler would so forget his knightly vows as to threaten two weak, helpless, and unprotected ladies is unforgivable.”
The herald’s eyes grew round; Maud and the captain, indeed the entire array of men and women, gaped at Alix in amazement.
“Return to your master,” Alix continued, her voice growing firmer as she disengaged her arm from Maud’s support. “Tell him that sooner than give up any guest within my walls to an uncertain fate, I, Adelicia of Louvain, former Queen of England, and now Lady of Sussex, will defend this castle to my last breath, even if it imperil the life of my unborn babe.”
Alix’s face had turned a deep rose; her bosom heaved with indignation; her eyes flashed defiantly. “It is beneath my dignity to treat with those who make war on women and children!”
The herald stared at her in disbelief, then bowed and left. Maud, somewhere between laughter and tears, was speechless.
“How dare Stephen threaten us,” Alix said. She held out a steady hand to Maud. “Come along, my dear, we have not yet eaten a good hot meal this morning. I suddenly find myself quite hungry.”
Maud followed her meekly, a lump in her throat and a veil of tears in her eyes.
“Why do you just stand there, Wulf ?” Alix said to the captain of the guard who seemed rooted to one spot. “Surely you have many urgent matters to attend to. As of this moment we may consider ourselves under siege.”
“Oh my lady,” the captain said, flinging himself down on one knee before her.
“Really, there is no need for that,” Alix said, her face crimson. “What will the Empress Maud think?”
“She will think what a great lady you are, and how fortunate she is to count you among her friends,” Maud responded tearfully, taking Alix in her arms and kissing her warmly on both cheeks.
While the castle inhabitants prepared for the siege, Maud kept watch on the battlements. What would be Stephen’s response to Alix’s defiance? she wondered. Looking over the parapet into the meadow below she was surprised to find so little war-like activity. Men could be seen polishing their weapons and armor or currying their horses; no attempt was being made to scale the walls with ladders; no timber was being cut to build a palisade; nor were men making trenchbuts or catapults to hurl over the walls. What did this signify?
As Maud watched, a figure emerged from the azure pavilion followed by two others: Stephen, his brother Henry of Winchester, and Waleran of Muelan. Maud’s heart stood still as she drank in the sight of her cousin’s tall body clad in a hauberk with a black mantle thrown over his shoulders. It was too far to see his features clearly, but almost as if he were aware of her intense gaze, she saw Stephen lift his head and stare straight up in her direction. The effect was as if she had been suddenly hit in the belly with an iron ball and could not catch her breath.
Shaken, Maud drew back, unprepared for the overwhelming conflict of rage, anguish, desire, and love that gripped her vitals. Her head reeled; she clung to the stone parapet while a tumult of feeling rampaged through her body like an invading force. Over the years she had tried to suppress all her emotions concerning Stephen, excepting only the desire for vengeance. But to her horror and shame, Maud knew that at this moment, had Stephen appeared beside her, she would have thrown herself into his arms, and disgraced herself forever.
When the violence of her inner storm had subsided, she hurried to find Alix who, with her women, had gone to the guardhouse.
“Waleran and the Bishop of Winchester are with Stephen,” Maud told Alix. “But I see no sign of the Flemings.”
“We must thank God for that. So the Bishop is there. It’s a mystery why he remains loyal to his brother after the Canterbury affair.”
“I’ve asked myself the same question,” Maud said.
With a troubled look, Alix asked, “Do you suppose that if we throw stones, burning pitch hoops, and boiling water from the battlements, that will discourage Stephen’s men from trying to scale the walls?”
“We?” Maud repeated.
“Why, all the women, of course. We cannot stand by and do nothing.”
At the thought of the gentle Alix and her timid ladies hurling pitch hoops from the ramparts, Maud stifled a desire to laugh out loud. “No, of course you must contribute. Fortunately, I saw no signs of any attempt to scale the walls, but should there be, I’m sure your efforts will discourage them.”
Alix remained a constant surprise. Just at the moment one expected her to faint dead away, she drew upon steely reserves of courage Maud had never even suspected.
By mid-afternoon, some six hours later, the herald returned. The entire castle mesnie—knights, men-at-arms, servitors, priests, and women—all gathered together in the great hall to hear the King’s reply. The atmosphere was taut with apprehension but the assembled group had acquired a strong sense of purpose since this morning. Of one mind, they were united behind their Lady, determined to prevent the King from taking possession of Arundel.
“The King wishes to apologize to the Lady of Sussex,” the herald began, “and truly regrets she found his request unchivalrous. It has never been his intention to persecute pregnant or helpless women. When the Countess of Anjou is delivered into his hands he will send her under safe escort to her brother at Bristol. No harm will come to her, nor will he besiege the castle. King Stephen swears this on his honor as a knight.”
Amidst the cheers that rocked the great hall, Maud stood frozen, unable to credit her own ears. Stephen was willing to let her go? Impossible.
“I wonder why he allows you to go to Bristol, Madam,” the captain of the guard said, obviously troubled. “It seems foolhardy in the extreme to let you slip through his fingers like this. What does he gain? Is it a trick of some kind?”
“It makes no sense,” Maud agreed, “for he gains nothing and loses much.”
Alix cleared her throat. “Perhaps Stephen makes this gesture so that he’ll not be thought less than knightly. Such considerations are important to him, no matter how ill-judged the action may be.”
The captain shook his head. “If he lets the Countess go, he puts his crown in jeopardy and condemns the land to civil war.”
“But he has now made a public vow to ensure Maud is taken safely to Bristol,” Alix said. “Think of the shame if he broke it.”
“We have all seen what his vows have been worth in the past,” Maud retorted.
“I would not trust the Countess of Anjou in his care,” said the captain.
“I firmly believe that where Maud is concerned, Stephen will behave honorably,” Alix insisted.
“In this matter, your good heart may lead you into an error of judgment, my lady. Madam is his enemy. Why should he treat her more honorably than he did his brother, who was not?”
Alix’s face turned a deep rose and she avoided looking at Maud. Flustered and ill at ease, she began to wring her hands. “What I meant to say was he is a knight,” she stammered. “He has taken vows to protect women and children—”
Sweet Marie, Maud thought, Alix must suspect that she had meant something to Stephen. Surely that was the implication. Was that all she suspected? Anxious that this subject not be pursued, Maud walked quickly over to the herald.
“Who is to be my escort to Bristol?” she asked.
“The Lord of Muelan was mentioned,” the herald said.
A chill ran through her. “He is not an acceptable escort. An accident is sure to befall me somewhere between here and Bristol. Tell that to your master.”
“Wait,” Alix said, taking Maud aside where they would not be overheard. “Do you recall my saying that I did not understand how Bishop Henry remained loyal to Stephen? Well, perhaps his loyalty has never been tested.”
Maud’s heart began to beat faster as she caught Alix’s meaning. “No one has offered him the opportunity to take his revenge, is that what you mean?” She looked at Alix with respect. “Holy Mary Virgin, when I am queen you shall be my chief adviser. Who would have guessed you had such an aptitude for intrigue.”
“I was married to your father for many years,” Alix said, blushing furiously at the compliment.
Maud smiled. “And the years were not wasted, I see. Now then, suppose I were to request that Bishop Henry escort me to Bristol instead of that ogre of Muelan. It is two days’ ride at least. Plenty of time to attempt to suborn my cousin and win him over to my cause.”
“That is exactly what I had in mind,” Alix said, as she and Maud exchanged a look of affectionate complicity.
Together they approached the waiting herald.
“I wish to send a different message to my cousin of Blois,” Maud said. “Tell your master that I’m most grateful for his courtesy to me and the Lady of Arundel, and I’ll gladly go to Bristol but only if the escort is my cousin, Bishop Henry of Winchester.”
After the herald left, Maud asked Alix, “Will it occur to Stephen that I may try to suborn his brother?”
Alix shook her head with a sad smile. “Unfortunately not. Therein lies his weakness, my dear.”
Maud concealed her surprise at Alix’s astute perception of this aspect of Stephen’s character, an aspect that she herself was only beginning to discover. Whatever his motives in allowing her to leave, Stephen had made a fatal mistake in giving her this freedom. In his place, Maud knew, she would never let an enemy go free. Never. I will win, Maud thought, suddenly buoyant with hope. I will win.