made in the defences and it was clear that Chester and de Roumare had used the time to hoard men and supplies and were not for yielding.
This celebration of the Virgin’s churching had a deeper resonance than usual to Will because he had recently heard that Adeliza had been safely delivered of their second child, a LadyofEnglish.indd 327
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daughter this time, christened Adelis. As he joined the procession to carry a lighted candle down the nave to the altar, he fixed his prayers upon his wife, his new baby, and his small son.
In front of him, Stephen stumbled upon the trailing hem of his cloak. Molten candle wax dripped over the king’s hand and he dropped the candle on to the stone flags of the nave, where it broke in two and extinguished itself in a pale thread of smoke.
Men glanced at each other with unease. A young knight darted forward and handed his own candle to the king, and a chaplain hurriedly removed the broken one, but the damage was done and although Stephen shrugged it off as nothing, the tension was palpable.
The sense of doom was compounded moments later when the delicate silver box holding the communion wafers fell from its hanger chain, struck the side of the altar, and tumbled on to the steps, scattering the wafers abroad and breaking many.
Several members of the congregation crossed themselves and a low mutter of unease percolated throughout the nave. The hair rose on Will’s nape because this was God’s own house and the communion wafers were the body of Christ. He was not given to flights of fancy, but he was perturbed. Stephen, however, acted as if nothing had happened. He remained calm and prostrated himself before the altar in submission while priests hastened to rescue the pyx and the fallen wafers and bring new ones.
The remainder of the service continued without incident and the tension eased, but did not entirely dissipate. As they emerged from the cathedral into the bitter February weather, William D’Ypres remarked flippantly that Stephen should think about shortening the length of his cloak, but no one smiled.
Will returned to the siege machines and quelled the speculation among his troops. “A candle broke, and so did the link in a chain,” he growled. “Such small things happen around us every 328
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day and if we saw portents in them all, we would be paralysed by our fears.”
A squire brought him bread and cheese and he ate while watching the men setting up the trebuchet, their fingertips and noses red with cold. He imagined a roaring fire and Adeliza reading to him from one of her books in her gentle voice, or singing a lullaby to their son and the baby, and he felt heartsick and wished he was at Arundel.
A horn sounded on the town battlements, and then another, and another, all along the walls. Will swallowed his mouthful of food and sent the squire to find out what the noise was about.
He was buckling on the sword he had removed to attend mass when the lad returned in a high state of excitement.
“Sire, it’s the Earls of Gloucester and Chester. They’ve been sighted across the Witham looking for a fording place.” The youth’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “It’s the whole Angevin host—cavalry and Welsh levies and all!” Will stared at him. It was foolhardy to risk all on a single battle, but perhaps Robert of Gloucester felt it was all or nothing.
“It’s a sign from God,” one of the siege-machine crew gabbled. “First the candle and the pyx; now this.” Will rounded on him. “Gloucester was bound to come here; the only question was how soon. Get back to work until I say otherwise.”
Lowering his eyes, the man turned back to the trebuchet.
Having given interim orders to the men, Will went to join the king at Bishop Alexander’s lodging. By the time he arrived, a heated discussion was already in full flow. Stephen wanted to ride out and face the approaching Angevin force and bring them to battle. His barons did not.
“Sire, it is unwise,” counselled William D’Ypres, shaking his head. “Their numbers are greater than ours. Surely it is better to withdraw or stay behind the town walls and wait them out.” 329
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“No!” Stephen snapped. “I will not yield an inch of ground to Robert FitzRoy or Ranulf of Chester and his hellspawn brother. I am the anointed king and