Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,86

to preserve her original gift for as long as he could, and because frankincense, given to the baby Jesus in the stable at Bethlehem, was a very precious commodity, not to be squandered on the mundane. In its smoke was the breath of God and kings.

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He often thought of Adeliza when he prayed. His vision of “Heaven’s Queen” was inextricably bound up with his image of her at a crown-wearing, robed in cloth of silver and a cloak of blue. It was how he always thought of her, although he knew she was living quietly in retirement at Wilton and devoting herself to good works. She would always be a queen to him. He thought that when he returned to England, should his road pass by Wilton, he would go there and pay his respects.

His wistful ruminations were rudely curtailed by loud shouts from outside the tent. He put down the little incense box and hurried out just in time to have a Norman soldier crash into him, blood pouring from his broken nose and cut lip. A Fleming pounced upon the man with a snarl and smashed his bunched fist into his victim’s face again. Will had staggered at the first assault, but righted himself, seized the Fleming by the shoulders and flung him to one side. A dagger flashed and pain streaked along Will’s ribs. He avoided the second slash of the knife and managed to grab the Fleming’s wrist and with a hard twist disarm him. Several Albini knights who had been frozen with astonishment now leaped into the fray. The Fleming was caught and pinned, but more of his comrades appeared out of the night, intent on his rescue, and they brought in pursuit more Normans, in a rapid chain of violent brawls. Will ducked back inside his tent, grabbed his sword and shield, and jammed on his helm. His side throbbed like a drum in time to the swift beat of his heart. He did not know how hard he was bleeding, but there was as yet no stain on the outside of his gambeson.

Plunging back out of the tent, he rallied his men around him and drove Flemings and Normans alike away from his ground.

Shouts, screams, and the clash of weapons rent the night. Two loose packhorses galloped past. Across from Will’s camp, the great round pavilion belonging to the Norman lord Hugh de Gournay was on fire. Will seized a water jug from outside his 214

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cook tent and ran to help beat out the flames, shouting over his shoulder for his men to bring the barrels of sand that they had been using to clean their hauberks. Mounted men pounded through the camp, brandishing spears and swords: the personal knights of the king’s household riding through to restore order and round up the instigators.

“Whoreson Flemings!” spat a Norman knight who was beating at the flames of de Gournay’s tent with a leather cape.

“They started this?” Will panted.

The man nodded. “Over provisions!” he said between thuds of the cape. “Caught one of the bastards stealing a tun of wine from our supplies…Said he had the right to take it because we were hoarding stocks and their lot had none. Next moment all of his cronies arrived and we weren’t going to stand by and let them steal what’s ours.”

Will’s knights started shovelling sand on the fire, but it was plain that Hugh de Gournay’s tent was a lost cause and all they could do was clear the ground and prevent the flames from spreading. De Gournay was in a seething fury as he regarded the destruction of his camp, his face black and a horse blanket clutched in his grip from his efforts to put out the flames. “I will have no more of this behaviour from the king’s Flemings,” he said through clenched teeth. “Enough is enough.” He gestured to the knight standing beside Will. “Pack up what’s left of this mess. We’re leaving.” He started to turn away.

“But what of the march upon Lisieux?” Will pressed his hand to his side where blood had now begun to soak through his gambeson.

“What of it?” de Gournay said with a large shrug. “Let the king use his Flemings since he loves them so much. Robert of Gloucester is right. He lets them do as they please. The Flemings are a law unto themselves. If the king will not heed complaints in council, then let