Chapter 15 #3
As she led him into the hall, he went on about the glorious campaign underway to crush the English rebels once and for all, and to build castles to keep them in order.
“The king’s ordered one built at Warwick and is giving it into the charge of Henry de Beaumont.
I have no doubt I can soon win such an honor. ”
Madeleine ordered food and ale for him and his men, and provisions for his horses. Odo’s was a clear case of sour grapes and wishful thinking, but she didn’t ill-wish him. If he could achieve glory and win himself a castle, she had no objection, as long as it was in another area of the country.
One part of his monologue did interest her, however. “So the rebellion is over?” she asked. If so, Aimery would be in no danger.
Odo tore a large lump of pork off the bone with his teeth and washed it down with ale, half-chewed.
He wiped his mouth and belched. “All but. William has only to appear before a city for it to open its gates and beg pardon. If I were him, I’d lop a few heads and stick them on pikes and have done with this once and for all. ”
Aimery’s head on a pike . . . “And what of that Hereward?” Madeleine asked, refilling his flagon. “I heard he was to join Earls Edwin and Gospatric.”
He turned on her with surprising alertness. “Where heard you that?”
“Rumors, no more,” said Madeleine cautiously, praying he would say something of what was on his mind.
She needn’t have worried. Odo was incapable of keeping quiet about anything which might be to his own self-aggrandizement.
He grinned. “I heard rumors, too, as I was riding south. More than rumors. I received sure word that Hereward is out of the Fens. He and a large force are lurking in Halver Wood not far north of here. Too many for my men to tackle, but I sent word to the king. He’ll send a force and that will be the end of that weasel. ”
Madeleine fought to hide her sick dread. Hereward was out of the Fens and had sent for his nephew. “Do you intend to wait here until then and take part in the fighting?” She heard the thinness of her voice and cursed herself.
He smirked, unobservant as always. “Lonely, are you? Where is your fancy husband anyway?”
“East,” Madeleine said quickly. “He’s gone to visit his estate of Rolleston.”
Odo shrugged. “It was always clear he didn’t want you, so you’ve no cause for complaint if he’s neglecting you.
” He looked over her plain dress. “And you haven’t even cajoled out of him any of that gold that dazzled you.
He probably has a buxom Saxon Danelaw wife tucked away at Rolleston, dripping with his spare jewelry. ”
Madeleine pinned a faint, unconcerned smile on her face, while splinters of bitter jealousy tormented her.
Was it possible? A manno Danico marriage didn’t block a Christian one.
King Harold had been married in the Danish style for twenty years to Edith Swannehals and had taken Eadgyth of Mercia at the church door to solidify support for his claim to the throne.
But what did that matter anyway if her husband was riding to his death?
“Aimery and I are dealing together very well,” she lied. “Do you intend a stay here, Odo?”
He shook his head. “Though the food’s improved. I’m under orders south to the queen,” he said importantly, “to be captain of the advance guard to bring her north.”
“Bring her north?” Madeleine queried in surprise. “Into the middle of a rebellion? She’s eight months pregnant.”
Odo shrugged. “The rebellion’s as good as over, and the king wants her with him when the child is born.”
Madeleine thought darkly of men and their lack of consideration, but a large part of her mind was on Aimery.
Odo had sent word to the king about Hereward. William would surely send an army, maybe go with one himself, to finally capture that thorn in his flesh, and find he had Golden Hart in his grasp, too.
Aimery had surely guessed something of this. She remembered him saying, Remember me, even as he thrust into her. As if he were going to oblivion.
She swallowed tears. What was she to do?
Let him stew in his own juice, said a bitter part of her, but it was only a very small part.
She turned to Odo. “Do you ride on immediately then?”
He nodded. “Just thought I’d stop since we were passing close, and find better food than we carry. And a spare horse if you have one. One of ours has a sore leg.”
Madeleine arranged for a fresh mount and soon had the satisfaction of seeing him on his way. Then she went into the stables, ostensibly to check on the injured horse.
“Just a strain, Lady,” the stable groom said. “Soon remedied.”
“Good.” Madeleine leaned against a post and said idly, “Do you know where Halver Wood is, John?”
“Aye, Lady,” he responded readily and without suspicion. “It be north of here half a morning’s ride. Off the old road a bit and toward Gormanby.”
Madeleine left armed with directions which were doubtless clear enough to the local people but mystifying to her. Half a morning’s ride. Aimery would already be there then. But even if she couldn’t stop him, someone had to warn him of the danger. How?
She went into the solar and pressed damp hands together nervously.
She had sworn to expose Aimery if she had proof of treason, but here she was trying to abet him.
If the king could capture the magical symbol who was Hereward, and the other who was Golden Hart, he could break the back of English resistance to Norman rule.
It was her duty to support that in every way possible.
But she couldn’t let Aimery be taken. Could she send Geoffrey to warn him? Could she trust Geoffrey? He was a pleasant young man, but Norman to the core and surely not so besotted as to contemplate dishonor as she was doing.
Besotted. Part of her objected to that word, but she shrugged away such nonsense. She was madly in love with Aimery for all he was a traitor. So, she had to save him.
Would one of the local people help? They surely were mostly in favor of Golden Hart and Hereward, but a few were ready to betray their own kind for favor, and she could not be sure which was which. And would they believe her, a Norman, on such a matter?
The only possibility, she realized, was for her to go alone. The prospect scared her to death.