Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,73

and in the devotional sconces and her breath rose in white vapour.

Gold shimmered in the reflection of the flames from the 181

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jewelled cross on the altar and the enamelled triptych depicting the Virgin and Child enthroned. The tiles of the chapel floor were cold under her knees. Her stomach was queasy because she had not eaten all day. “Why?” she asked. “Why, my father?

Did you truly absolve men of their oaths? Did you ever intend me to be queen, or was it all just another game to keep us on a leash?” She remembered him dandling Henry on his knee, smiling fondly, calling him a fine little king, but with that look in his eyes that said no one was a king but himself. Now he was no longer a king in the living world, just a naked soul in the afterlife. The grip had left the reins, and those who would ride would have to fight tooth and nail to mount the horse and stay in the saddle. Her heart ached, her chest was tight, but she did not give in to tears, because tears were a sign of weakness and she had to put aside all such chinks in her armour. She had a kingdom and a duchy to claim. Arms outspread, body prostrate, she prayed to God and His Holy Mother to give her the strength to carry this thing forward and see it through to the end.

ttt

By the time the walls of Argentan came into view, Matilda was wilting in the saddle. Ten days ago, she had thought she might be with child again. Now she was certain, because the sickness was fully upon her and a deep, weary exhaustion. She could not afford to be ill with this pregnancy. She had to secure southern Normandy and show she was a force to be reckoned with, because if they dismissed her, they dismissed Henry too, and all her future lineage.

Geoffrey had escorted her as far as Alençon, and then ridden eastwards to secure the support of Juhel de Mayenne, first giving her a strong escort of heavily armed knights and serjeants. However, she had met with neither resistance nor hostility. Travellers she had encountered were wary and deferential. The peasants had kept 182

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their distance. Lords of estates and small castles had come to pay their respects and homage, which was encouraging.

As she approached the town walls, she banished a thread of trepidation and straightened her spine. Argentan was hers by right. She came not as a supplicant, but as its sovereign lady.

Word must have gone ahead, for the gates stood wide and an entourage of knights bearing banners came trotting out to greet her two by two. At their head rode the marshal, Warrin Algason, a dour-faced man of middle years as solid as his strong dappled horse. “Domina, I bid you welcome.” Dismounting, Algason knelt to her, his knights following in a jingle of mail and weaponry. Held out across the palms of his hands were the castle keys.

Matilda bade him rise and come to her, and then stooped to give him the kiss of peace and accept the keys from him.

“What news?”

Algason shook his head. “There is no word from Rouen, domina, beyond that of your lord father’s death.” She said nothing, preferring to wait until she had been escorted to the fortress and shown to a well-appointed private chamber. Her women fetched warm water so that she could wash her hands and face and Algason had wine and pastries brought. “You should know, domina, that your lord father left instructions that in the event of his death, I was to hand over your dower castles.”

“A pity that he set such terms when he could have done it in life,” she replied tartly, but felt vindicated that her father had given his border marshal such an instruction, because it meant he had still intended the crown to be hers.

Algason looked uncomfortable. “It was my duty to obey him, as now I obey you.”

“And if he had ordered you to close the gates against me, would you have done so?”

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“I am a simple man, domina. I follow my orders and I remain loyal to my liege. My life is yours now.” She reassessed him with a tactical eye. He said he was simple, and perhaps in certain ways he was, but that did not mean unintelligent. He was a marshal and