Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,74

that meant he was an astute and accomplished soldier, well able to cover many tasks at once.

She believed him when he said he would remain loyal.

The weariness she had been holding at bay seeped over her now that she was safe and her dower castles claimed. She could do nothing else until she knew more. Just watch and wait, prepare and rest, so that when the moment did arrive, she was ready.

ttt

Two days later her brother Reynald arrived at Argentan, his horse stumbling with exhaustion. Concealed under a blanket on the crupper were two decorated leather cases, and although his face was smudged with weariness, he was triumphant.

“I thought I was too late,” he told her as he brought the items to her chamber. “They were gone from the abbey treasury when I arrived in Rouen, but Queen Adeliza had them safe in her keeping and she was glad to give them to me. She said you and your son were the rightful owners, no matter what was decided, and that no one else should have them.” He made a face. “She gave them to me in her private chamber and bade me leave straight away. I had to hasten from the city as the gates were closing for the night, but the queen gave me a letter of safe conduct with the old king’s counterseal and the guards accepted it. I rode all night, changed horses, and rode again all day to get myself clear.”

Matilda ran her hands over the polished, embossed leather of the casings. “You have done well,” she said. “I was unsure if you would succeed.” She swallowed a knot of emotion. “I am grateful to Adeliza. It can have been no easy task to obtain these from the treasury in the first place, and there will be repercussions…” 184

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“She has sent you letters,” Reynald said. “I have them in my satchel.” He gave her an eloquent look. “They are going to offer England and Normandy to Theobald of Blois. They were talking about it in Rouen as if they had already decided.”

“They?” Matilda raised her brows.

Reynald dropped his gaze. “The archbishop of Rouen, the Earl of Leicester, Waleran de Meulan, and…our brother Robert.” The words were like a blow to her solar plexus. “Not Robert,” she said.

“I do not believe he had much choice,” Reynald looked miserable. Matilda felt sick. Not for the first time she wished she could crush to dust these men who thought her a lesser being. Even her own brother, her supposed backbone, was prepared to turn away from her.

She unfastened the straps on the nearest leather casing. Inside lay the hinged panels of the imperial crown she had brought back from Germany. As Matilda touched the great ruby set in the front section, Warrin Algason arrived, his chest heaving from his run up the turret stairs. “Domina, sire!” He sketched a swift bow. “I have news. Stephen, Count of Mortain, has claimed the throne of England and been handed the treasury by the bishop of Winchester.”

Matilda felt the initial jolt of the words, but the impact was not colossal because she had braced herself to receive just such tidings. Ever since the death of le Clito, Stephen had been her closest rival for the throne, and the faction that gathered around him had long been ready to pounce. While she had been playing a waiting game and arguing over these castles, they too had been biding their time, but closer to the hub of the wheel, and so secretively organised that even Theobald, head of the Blois family, had been kept in ignorance. Having assembled the crown, she held it between her hands as she had done in Germany. “So,” she said, “I am brought a diadem, but no country.” 185

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“If we muster swiftly and ride north, we can nip this thing in the bud.” Reynald’s young voice cracked with eagerness.

Matilda shook her head. “It is too late for that. If Stephen has indeed claimed the throne and has access to the treasury, he is already too strong.” Distaste entered her expression. “He will buy men and goodwill with my father’s wealth, but when it is all squandered, they will abandon him.” She stood the crown on top of the case. “What we must do is bide our time and make ready.”

When Reynald had gone, she summoned her scribe and while he prepared his inks and parchment she showed Henry