Chapter 20 #2
During that day’s ride, Aimery stopped by her side frequently to offer support. Madeleine found on the whole that this merely interfered with her efforts to block Hengar’s death from her mind. In the end she bluntly told him to leave her be.
The trouble was that pushing Hengar from her mind only made room for thoughts of Aimery and Aldreda.
She was tormented by memories of Aimery standing with the woman, familiarly close.
She longed to confront her husband with it, but she was riding with a group of women with no possibility of privacy.
Besides which, she suspected even raising the subject would be unwise.
She couldn’t keep it out of her mind, however.
Then there was the question of Frieda. Hengar had sounded certain of his facts, yet the girl must be at least ten. Aimery would only have been about fourteen himself at the time. Had Hengar perhaps been mad?
But Madeleine had always sensed something between Aldreda and Aimery.
She remembered Aimery’s need for her the day before, his need that day by the cornfield.
Was it likely that he’d suppressed his body’s demands for so long with Aldreda willing?
What would he do now that the woman was an available widow?
Madeleine was snapped out of her personal worries when she noticed increased alertness among the men. In the heat, most of them rode bare-headed, but now mailed hoods were being raised, conical helmets put on, shields taken up.
Aimery rode by. “What is it?” Madeleine asked.
He drew his horse up. “Nothing to alarm you.” He gestured to the east. “Just the Fens.”
Madeleine looked. The land on their right had grown flatter as they journeyed, but now she saw it had the green of wetlands. It was empty and vast, with only the haunting cries of marsh birds to show any sign of life.
“Hereward?” she asked nervously.
Aimery did not show guilt or anxiety. “Is out there somewhere and doubtless aware of our every move. He won’t attack us. We’re too strong.”
She had to know. “What would you do if he did?”
He flashed her a cold look. “Defend the queen.” Then he was gone.
She wanted desperately to trust him, but the memory of his pledge to Hereward, the memory of the power in the man she had felt herself, always left a lingering doubt.
They arrived at Peterborough without incident, however, and settled in and around the mighty abbey of Saints Peter, Paul, and Andrew.
Madeleine went to the queen as Matilda climbed wearily from the litter, rubbing her back. “When this journey’s over,” Matilda said testily, “I want that cursed contraption chopped up and burned. I’ll dance around the fire.”
Madeleine giggled. Matilda flashed her a fierce look, but her lips twitched. “I’ll send you on a pilgrimage, girl, in seven months or so.”
“I beg pardon, Your Majesty.” Madeleine looked at the queen and any humor faded. Matilda’s face was growing puffy, and the woman looked exhausted. “Will you not consider stopping here, Your Majesty? We are well into the north, and the abbey has people skilled in medicine.”
Matilda drew herself up, forcing away signs of fatigue by will alone. “I have people skilled in medicine, and this prince will be born in York.” A hand resting on her bulging womb, she swept forward to greet the abbot.
Madeleine shared a shrug with Adele, who shook her head. “There’s no stopping her, Lady Madeleine. Don’t fear. I’ve attended all her births, and there’s been no problem yet.”
“I don’t like that puffiness, though,” said Madeleine quietly. “I saw a woman die once when she swelled up late in her pregnancy.”
“Aye, but I think this is more from the lying around all day. See if you can get her to walk in the cloisters this evening.”
So Madeleine spent the evening walking with Matilda, trying to keep the impatient queen amused.
The ladies played music and offered riddles, and as the light faded, Aimery came to sing.
He offered a long saga of parted lovers who eventually found happiness.
Madeleine drank in his music as if he sang just for her, and when she caught his eye, she thought perhaps he did.
But by the time the queen retired Madeleine was exhausted and quite relieved to find the men and women were segregated. She had no energy just now for marital matters.
The next day it rained. The royal train slogged its way from Peterborough to Bourne, and the carts were often mired in mud despite the solid base of the Roman road. Along with everyone else, Madeleine huddled in her cloak and endured.
At Bourne there was only a village and a modestly fortified manor.
Madeleine discovered this, too, had once belonged to Hereward and was now in the hands of Ivo Taillebois, who did not live there.
The ladies crammed into the bleak hall while the men camped outside in the mud, forming an armed circle of protection.
When they assembled the next morning, it was still raining, and few even bothered to put on dry clothes. They would soon be sodden again.
It was not a chill rain, but Madeleine was damp through. In this weather the armed men fared better than the ladies, for their mail and leather gave better protection.
As she watched the final assembly of the party, Aimery drew up beside her and offered her a wineskin. “If we were in a secure place I’d consider stopping,” he said, “but not in Hereward’s manor on the edge of the Fens.”
Madeleine tipped the skin and drank. She wished they had time to devote to each other, but there was none, and no privacy at all. “You do think there’s danger then?”
“Let’s just say I don’t want to tempt my revered uncle with too tasty a morsel. The people here are his to the death. Anyway, I broached the question to the queen and she refuses to consider any delay.” He looked at Madeleine. “Do you think the birth is imminent?”
“Adele has more experience than I, and she’s birthed the queen’s other babies. She’s concerned.”
His hand tapped restlessly on the pommel. “If the queen goes into labor on the road, how will it go?”
“It will be in God’s hands, but she bears babes well. It should go easily. But, please God, not in the rain.”
“Amen to that. I hope to rest tonight at Sleaford, which won’t be much better than here, but after that is the end of the Fens, and Lincoln. We can halt there in safety.”
Madeleine saw that the weight of his responsibilities pressed on him, and touched his hand. “It will go well.”
He smiled his thanks. “And you? How are you?”
She wanted so much to seek the comfort of his arms, but she merely pulled her damp cloak closer. “Too tired and wet to worry about anything personal.”
He laughed, but then sobered. “I don’t want to add to your concerns, but there is something you should know.”
“About Hengar?” she asked in alarm.
“No, about Golden Hart.”
She stared at him. Was he about to confess his plan?
“I tangled with some men of Robert d’Oilly’s in the spring, but one survived. The king took an interest in him and appointed him to the castle guard at Huntingdon. I’ve just seen him in Odo’s troop.”
A hundred thoughts clamored in Madeleine’s mind, but she said, “He will recognize you?”
“He’s seen me before without making the connection, but if Odo has hired him, there has to be a reason. If Odo points me out, the man might see the resemblance.”
“What will you do?”
“Nothing.”
“How can you do nothing when they plan to destroy you?” He made no response, and she surrendered to the other thought bursting in her head. “How many did you kill?”
He was surprised. “Three. Gyrth took one.”
“You said you had never killed to conceal your actions.”
“Nor have I. I killed to save a man from death and his fellows from the ruin that comes of killing Normans.” He sighed and touched her cheek.
“Don’t look so distraught. I doubt anything will happen before we join the king in York, and hopefully not immediately then.
I have plans for York,” he said softly. “I want to make long, gentle love to you in a bed, my wife. Will I be welcome?”
With death hanging over him, how could she deny him? “Aye,” she whispered.
A light flashed in his eyes. “Then we will assuredly make York. The rest is in the lap of the gods.”
Sleaford was, as he had predicted, just like Bourne, but as they approached the rain turned to drizzle, and by the time they left the next morning the summer sun was shining once again, and the road was firm.
In dry clothes and warm sun, everyone’s spirits revived. Aimery raised a song and everyone joined in merrily. They were headed for Lincoln, where they could expect a solid castle and everything that an ancient and civilized town could provide.
Adele was riding with Matilda, and Madeleine rode nearby, for though the queen asserted she had no signs of delivery, she rubbed at the bottom of her belly now and then, and found it hard to find a comfortable position in which to lie.
Adele had told Madeleine she was sure the birth would come within days.
When she wasn’t watching Matilda, Madeleine nervously watched the countryside to the east of the road, wondering if Hereward was there, and what he intended.
She occasionally saw small boats fishing for eels, and even foot travelers who used poles to leap the frequent dykes, but no signs of armed men.
Some of the party were beginning to think Hereward a figment of the imagination, but Madeleine knew for certain he was not.
As the day went by, however, the terrain changed.
Madeleine felt a burden lift when the dangerous Fens were left behind.