Child of the Phoenix (53 page)

III
SUCKLEY

‘For the love of the Blessed Virgin, Eleyne, you must not ride!’

John was out of bed within three days. Beyond the walls of the manor house a soft sun coaxed the full leaves to unfurl on the hedges. The buds on the blackthorn were like clusters of tiny seed pearls, catkins hung gold on the hedgerows and the first feathered leaves burst out on the willow trees by the brook. Her hand on Invictus’s bridle she turned to him, astonished. ‘Why? I’m perfectly well.’ It was he who looked unwell, leaning on his servant’s arm, his face ashen.

‘Please, Eleyne, don’t do it.’ Pushing the man away, he stood upright with an effort. ‘I forbid it.’

She felt the familiar rebellion surging through her body, almost choking her with humiliation and rage. It had been a long time since she had felt like this; for weeks they had been friends, lovers. She trusted and respected him. She worried and fretted ceaselessly when he was ill. But when he was ill she was in charge, she ran the household, she did as she pleased and rode when she liked. Her hand tightened on the stallion’s bridle. The groom was watching her, and she saw the shadow of mocking amusement in his eyes. He admired her, she knew, but he enjoyed seeing her discomfited. She bit her lips in fury and reluctantly released the bridle. ‘You take him, Hal. Give him a gallop and then bring him back. I may use him to fly my bird later.’

Head high she took John’s arm. ‘Leave us,’ she commanded as the servant fell in step behind them, ‘we’ll walk in the garden.’

There was a lovely garden at the west end of the manor house, near the moat. Bulbs were already pushing up through the grass and the walls were hung with newly budding sweet-briar and ivy.

As soon as they were alone she dropped his arm and turned to him, her eyes flashing. ‘Why? Why do you humiliate me in front of the servants? Why shouldn’t I ride?’

‘Surely I don’t have to tell you that, after what happened to the Queen of Scots.’

‘The Queen of Scots’s physicians had warned her not to ride. She had threatened to miscarry. It’s not the same for me. I don’t even know for sure that I am with child!’

‘Of course you are.’ He reached across and took her hand. ‘Don’t be angry, sweetheart, I’m concerned for you.’

‘Then please don’t stop me riding. If I’m worried about my health I will take care, I promise you.’ She gave him a winning smile. ‘It’s you we must take care of, my husband. You look so tired. Did the physician say you could get up?’

He hunched his cloak on to his shoulders. ‘The man is a fool. He bleeds me constantly and leaves me weak as a woman. I do better to get up and walk about. And your medicines have always been better than his.’ He gave a sheepish grin. ‘Perhaps that’s why I want you with me. Pure selfishness.’

Her temper was receding. ‘Those medicines were Rhonwen’s. I do wish she were here, she knew so much of remedies and charms to make people well.’ She paused. ‘John? What is it? Why do you look like that?’

He had dropped her hand and turned away. ‘Rhonwen had no love for me, Eleyne. Sometimes, I think …’ His voice tailed away and he bent over a rosebush, examining the soft red buds of the leaves.

‘You think what?’

‘She cursed me, that night, over Einion’s grave. She cursed me.’

‘And you think her curse has made you ill again?’

‘I did wonder.’

‘But she loved me, and she would never harm anyone I loved.’ She caught his arm and hugged him close to her. ‘You must not believe that she would or could hurt you. She was beside herself that night; she didn’t know what she was doing.’

‘Oh, she knew.’ He was silent for a moment, then he began to cough.

‘No. Please don’t say that.’ Eleyne walked away from him across the long damp grass, with its drift of golden buttercups. ‘Do you think she is dead?’

‘Yes.’ His reply was terse.

‘You think my father had her killed.’

‘I think someone did.’

‘One of my mother’s ladies wrote to me. She said Dafydd has had her declared an outlaw and offered a reward for her capture.’

‘That had to be done, otherwise they would have been admitting that she was dead. Forget her, Eleyne. She has gone. We’ll never see her again.’

She frowned. ‘But she hasn’t gone, she haunts you. You told Father Peter at Fotheringhay, didn’t you? What did he say?’

‘He sprinkled holy water and swung the incense and muttered prayers. Then when he thought I wasn’t looking he made the sign against the evil eye and touched an amulet around his neck beneath his crucifix. The man is a superstitious fool.’ He grinned. ‘But I am no better. I’m afraid of her.’

A week later he was stronger and, the rents at Suckley collected, the household set off again. Eleyne rode a gentle old mare next to her husband, Luned on her other side, a huge heavily cushioned wagon close behind in case she should need to rest. She didn’t. That morning the blood had come, flooding between her legs, washing away all her hopes, and she had cried. She had not yet dared to tell John. He looked so much better, so much stronger, so proud as he rode beside her. She straightened her back to ease the nagging pain which dragged between her hips. She wanted Invictus, she wanted to gallop and gallop and gallop until the cold wind and the sunlight had washed her mind clean and empty as her womb, but the horse was at the back of the train somewhere, led by his groom.

John would understand. He would be disappointed, but not angry. She glanced across at him, wanting to speak, wanting to tell him, but her courage failed. It had to be when they were alone, in case she cried again.

IV
FOTHERINGHAY
May

Rhonwen reached Fotheringhay two days after the Feast of the Annunciation. They received her there with honour, if with a few sideways looks and much crossing of fingers, and it was with fresh horses and the addition to her small train of a lady’s maid from the village that she set out once more after the Chesters, retracing her steps towards the Welsh borders.

V

John took Eleyne in his arms and kissed her. Outside the window a blackbird was carolling from the branch of an ash tree, and the joyous song poured on and on, liquid and golden in the twilight.

‘It doesn’t matter, little love,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t mind, there will be other times, many other times. We will have a dozen children at least! That is your fortune, remember? Your future. You told me: it’s written in the stars.’

She snuggled up to him, comforted at last. He was quite better now, and they had ridden out that morning after the hounds in pursuit of hare. The day had been glorious and they had returned exhausted. They had eaten well and retired to bed, where they made love until they had fallen at last into a deep sleep. It had been still dark when John had awoken her, his hand questing beneath the sheets for her body, greedily seeking every part of her. When they had made love again, they lay and talked until the first tentative notes of the dawn chorus made its way between the heavy curtains of the bed.

VI
DARNHALL, FOREST OF DELAMERE
The Feast of Helen of Caernarfon

Rhonwen caught up with them when they were almost back at Chester, on Eleyne’s name day. She halted her horses at the smithy in the village and wearily asked the way to the manor house.

‘Is the countess there?’ she asked the smith as he came out into the sunlight, blinking after the darkness of the forge.

‘Oh, aye, she’s there, God bless her.’ The smith grinned and rubbed his hands down the front of his leather apron. ‘I went up there nobbut three days ago to shoe that great stallion of hers.’

Rhonwen closed her eyes with relief. ‘And the earl? He is here too?’

‘Oh, aye. He’s here. They’re staying here awhile, so I heard.’ The man ran a professional eye over her mounts. ‘You’ll have come a long way.’

Rhonwen gave a grim smile. ‘Indeed I have. Here.’ She reached into her scrip and found the last halfpenny of her hoard. She tossed it to him. ‘Take this for your trouble, my friend.’ She hauled on her horse’s reins and set off in the direction he had pointed, her servants trailing in her wake. The smith watched until she was out of sight, then he stared down at the half coin. He bit it tentatively: it was good. The woman must have been mad.

She rode into an orchard, pink with apple blossom, and dismounted beneath the trees. ‘Go and find Luned, Lady Chester’s maiden. Tell her to come to me here. Speak to no one else, do you hear,’ she directed the serving girl who had dismounted beside her. ‘Hurry.’ Now that she was so close she could not wait to see Eleyne again, but she had to be careful. What if Lord Chester arrested her? What if he sent her back to Gwynedd to face trial? For her sake, as well as Eleyne’s, Lord Chester would have to be dealt with. Leaving the horses to the manservant, she walked slowly across the orchard and leaned on the lichen-covered gate. At last she had found her child.

The sun had travelled across the orchard and settled into the mist behind the wood before anyone came. It was Luned. She ran across the dew-wet grass and threw herself into Rhonwen’s arms. ‘We never thought we’d see you again. They told us you were dead!’ They clung together for a long time, then Rhonwen pushed her away.

‘How is Eleyne? I long to see her.’

‘She’s well.’ Luned clutched her hand. ‘She’s very well, she and the earl are happy.’

‘She is happy, thinking I am dead?’ Rhonwen could not keep the shock from her voice.

‘No, no, of course not. She misses you terribly. We all did. But she had no way of finding out what had happened.’

‘She had a way.’ Rhonwen’s voice was tight.

Luned let go of Rhonwen’s hand and leaned on the gate beside her. ‘She stares into the fire sometimes and I can see in her face that she is seeing things. But the earl doesn’t like it. He beat her, you know, after what happened. And he has forbidden her to look into the flames. The servants had begun to whisper. The priest of Fotheringhay spoke very strongly to the earl about her and my lady had to do penance.’

Rhonwen stared at her, cold with horror. So, he had beaten her and he had tried to forbid her the Sight – for that he would pay. She forced herself to speak calmly. ‘She will not have stopped looking into the flames. She can never stop doing that. She can pretend … to him. But she won’t stop, she can’t. She did not do the penance?’

‘She did and she goes to mass every day with the earl. She is very devout.’ Luned frowned. Could she so soon have forgotten Rhonwen’s intransigence; her intolerance.

‘And where is she now? I expected her to come.’ Rhonwen’s voice was hard.

‘I couldn’t tell her; she was with him. You can’t come up to the manor house, Rhonwen. The earl would have you taken by his men. I have heard him talk about you. He never liked you, and now I think he is afraid of you too.’

‘Afraid?’ Rhonwen raised an eyebrow.

‘You cursed him. He blamed you when his cough came back and he was ill.’

Rhonwen leaned her back against the gate, staring at the shadowy branches of the apple trees. It was growing dark. She gave a bitter laugh. ‘He has reason to be afraid.’

‘What will you do?’ Luned peered at her cautiously.

‘I don’t know. I have nowhere to go. No money.’

‘I can give you money.’ Luned slipped her hand through the slit in her gown and groped for the purse she carried at her waist. ‘Here, and I can get you more. But you mustn’t stay near here, it’s not safe.’ She paused. ‘I suppose you could go to the abbey at Vale Royale. No one would dream that you would go there. Stay in the guesthouse and keep your face covered. I will contact you as soon as I can, but don’t let anyone know who you are. You would never be safe if the earl found out you were alive. I’ll tell Eleyne you are here as soon as I can, tonight if I get the chance.’

‘If you get the chance? Don’t you see her every night?’

Luned smiled. ‘Sometimes they send the attendants away. The earl undresses her himself. They are very much in love.’

Rhonwen flinched as though she had been struck. ‘That’s not true! She loves someone else. Oh, she’s a clever one, my little Eleyne. She would never betray herself, but I know it. The earl has her under some kind of spell.’ She smiled coldly. ‘But I can always break it. Sweet goddess, how she must have longed for me to help her!’