Child of the Phoenix (58 page)

‘And you are very rich and the king wants to secure the support of someone or other at his court, no doubt,’ Llywelyn added, his voice weary. ‘Would that I could spare you this, Eleyne, but there are reasons why I must agree to the king’s wishes.’

Eleyne tightened her lips. She was angry as she had never been angry in her life before. ‘You mean it is convenient for you – or perhaps for Dafydd! That’s it, isn’t it? It would be good for Dafydd if you were seen to be supporting King Henry at the moment. And no doubt Isabella has had her say!’

‘No, my darling, Isabella doesn’t even know …’

‘But Dafydd does.’

‘Yes.’

‘And Dafydd advised you to agree without argument …’

‘Yes, he did, but –’ Llywelyn’s temper was rising too.

‘And Gruffydd, does he know what’s going on? Does he know what’s planned for me?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

Llywelyn frowned, anger beginning to colour his face. ‘Gruffydd is, as you know, in Powys. Eleyne, please allow your brother and me to know what is best for you.’

‘Best? I have just lost the best husband in the world, a man I loved and respected, a man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I do not wish to remarry.’

‘Your marriage to Lord Chester was arranged, Eleyne. May I remind you that you were married to him when you were but a small child. Your next marriage has every chance of being as happy. Lord Chester would have been the first to understand. He would not have expected you to remain alone.’

No, he told me to go to Scotland
. She did not say it out loud, but his words returned to her.
Don’t go to King Henry
. The last words he had uttered on this earth. He had foreseen this and had tried to save her from it. She closed her eyes, trying to steady the mounting anger which was surging through her. ‘What of King Alexander in all this? Does he not have a say in the remarriage of his heir’s widow?’

Llywelyn frowned. ‘King Alexander has already proclaimed your husband’s nephew, young Robert Bruce, the eldest male descendant of King David of Scotland after himself, as heir presumptive until he has a son of his own. And the King of England is negotiating to buy the lands of Huntingdon back from Lord Chester’s sisters so that the Scottish connection with the earldom of Huntingdon will finally be brought to an end,’ he added. ‘I understand Sir Robin Fitzooth has put in a claim for the earldom for want of a closer heir. King Alexander will have no interest in what happens to you, my darling. He will agree that King Henry’s decision is the best.’

Eleyne stared at him. ‘He will agree?’ she echoed. ‘He is to be consulted, then?’ A surge of hope flowed through her.

‘He will be informed as a matter of courtesy,’ Stephen put in. ‘King Alexander has been in negotiations with King Henry for some time over peace talks beween the two countries. I doubt if he would wish to jeopardise the progress that has been made by interfering in any decisions King Henry may make about you.’ His hard green eyes glittered with satisfaction. He had seen this wayward girl at court and he had heard of her reputation. It gave him much satisfaction to be part of the process that was going to trim her wings. He even had a rough idea of who the king would give her to. His hooded eyelids veiled his expression as he smiled at her.

‘We can leave for Chester whenever you are ready, my lady,’ he said with unctuous humility. ‘His grace has ordered that the Chester estates be administered by three royal servants for the time being: Henry of Audley, Hugh Despenser and myself. I am now appointed Justice of the County of Chester. I have to return at once to my duties, but I realise you will have farewells to make and that your servants will need to make ready for the journey. Would two days hence be satisfactory?’

‘Two days?’ Eleyne was aghast.

‘Three, if you prefer. I am at your service, as is his grace’s escort.’ Stephen smiled again. The king himself had warned him of Eleyne’s propensity for taking off on horseback and riding wildly around the countryside. That was something she would not do once she was in his care. He eyed her tall slim figure critically. She was undoubtedly the most dangerous type of woman: a temptress, designed to lead men astray and put their souls in jeopardy. He shuddered elegantly beneath his black gown and turned away from her.

IV

‘No!’ Eleyne lay on the bed, face down, pounding the pillow with her fists. ‘I won’t go with him, papa can’t make me!’ Her fury had jolted her out of her deep depression.

‘Ssssh!’ Luned glanced over her shoulder into the quiet darkness of the room. ‘What can you do?’ She was upset too.

Eleyne sat up. ‘Suppose they found me guilty of trying to murder John?’ She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘It’s not possible, no one would believe that, no one.’

Luned scowled. ‘You don’t think … what I mean is … Rhonwen had no reason to love Lord Chester,’ she finished in a whisper.

‘No, she wouldn’t.’ Eleyne put her knuckles to her eyes. ‘She couldn’t. I won’t believe it. There was no poison. It was that stupid, jealous doctor and his fear his incompetence would be exposed. I must see Uncle Henry myself. If I speak to him, I can make him understand. I can make him see how foolish this is. He can’t do this to me, he can’t. He allowed Margaret to choose her own husband. He must allow me to do the same. If I must remarry, at least I can get his promise that I can choose who it is.’

‘And you think that black crow will allow you near the king?’ Luned asked quietly. She had seen the expression on Stephen’s face as he watched Eleyne.

‘Of course he will if I order him to.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Luned shook her head. ‘He has his orders, and he is the type who can see neither to left nor right of the path he has been shown. And he hates women.’

Eleyne frowned. ‘Yes, he does. And he’s afraid of them. So, if I go, I must go without his permission.’ She drew her legs up beneath her gown and hugged her knees, her face thoughtful.

Luned suppressed a smile. She recognised that expression. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said softly.

Eleyne smiled. ‘I wish I had Invictus here.’

‘I’m glad you haven’t, I’d never be able to keep up with you, but there are plenty of fast horses in your father’s stables. When shall we go?’

‘I suppose it ought to be as soon as possible.’

‘Tonight, you mean?’ Luned looked towards the door.

‘Tonight.’ For the first time in many days Eleyne’s face lightened. ‘Now! That will be a shock for the black crow. Can you pack us each a bundle while I find us some money?’ She scrambled off the bed and ran to a small coffer on the table. In it was a pile of silver which she had brought with her from Chester to distribute as rewards and pensions to those amongst her father’s servants and her own who had served John. Gathering the pennies into a leather pouch, she tucked it securely into her bundle and reached for her cloak. The candles had burned down less than half an inch since the idea of flight had come to her.

Extinguishing all the candles but one, Luned picked up her belongings and pulled open the door. The hallway was empty. At the far end the staircase led downwards out of sight. They could see the faint shadow where a torch in the main entrance to the building flickered in the draught.

Her finger to her lips, Eleyne led the way on tiptoe, her bundle under her arm beneath her cloak. Cautiously she began to descend, holding her breath as the steps creaked, her ears straining in the silence. The
llys
had long since gone to bed, the fires damped, most of the lights extinguished. At the last turn of the stair she peered around. The guard at the doorway was asleep. Even as she watched, she saw him shift his position, smack his lips and settle back, his neck bent down on his shoulder as he sank against the wall as though it were a soft pillow.

She smiled at Luned. They both knew him, he was one of her father’s oldest men-at-arms, retired to this, one of the least onerous posts within the palace.

They were past him in seconds, the warm summer air flowing in through the opened door stirring his hair a little but not disturbing his sleep. Then they were running across the courtyard. There was no chance of taking a horse from the stable; too many boys slept there in the straw, to say nothing of the couples who found privacy in the fragrant darkness. Instead they made their way to the gatehouse. The guards there were alert, but they had had no orders to forbid the prince’s daughter to go out into the night and they let them pass. Eleyne had after all done this before.

She frowned as she thought again of Einion and his mysterious summons to her from the darkness; it seemed so long ago. And what had he told her? Her skin prickled with fear and excitement and she stopped so suddenly that Luned nearly bumped into her. Einion had said that she would become the ancestress of kings. That her future lay in Scotland. Of course! She would be a fool to ride to Henry, she would go north and seek out Alexander as John had told her.

The horses were grazing at the far side of the meadow, where the river broadened and flowed more slowly over the flat lands towards the sea. They were ghostly shapes beneath the stars, fetlock deep in soft white mist.

‘How will we catch them?’ Luned breathed, awed by their ethereal beauty.

‘I’ll do it.’ Eleyne slid her bundle to the ground. She reached for the two plaited girdles she had brought to act as halters, realising that the harness rooms would be too securely locked to reach without waking someone; these would have to do. Gathering her skirts, she climbed lightly over the gate and began to walk across the dew-soaked grass. Luned watched her, a slight figure, no more than a shadow in the starlight, moving silently through the mist.

One horse spotted her and then the others. They raised their heads, ears pricked, and watched as she drew near. Luned heard a whicker in the darkness and she smiled; they would not be able to resist her. What horse ever could? Sure enough, in seconds they were gathering around her, nuzzling her hands as she selected two and slipped the girdles around their necks. Like a virgin capturing unicorns, Luned thought. They were coming now, a horse on each side of her, the others behind, inquisitive, light-footed, manes and tails flowing.

Swiftly Luned strung their two bundles together to go across her horse’s withers. She pulled open the gate as Eleyne led their mounts through, and shut it to stop the rest of the animals following.

Her slim wrists moving deftly in the darkness, Eleyne knotted headcollars for the horses and helped Luned to mount from the gate, then she jumped astride her own, a light-footed silver mare, part of the starlight itself.

‘We’ll take the mountain road,’ she called, ‘and then we’ll make for Scotland.’

Suddenly she laughed out loud.

V
CHESTER
August 1237

Rhonwen stared out across the rooftops of Chester and sighed. The embroidery on which she had been working lay on the table behind her, the silks and needles and shears all jumbled in a heap. Her head was splitting.

The old Countess of Chester looked up. ‘They will find her, my dear. She cannot have got far, you know.’ She glanced almost reproachfully at the door of the solar and frowned; behind it stood one of the king’s guards.

Returning to Chester without Eleyne, Stephen had put the whole castle on alert and more or less imprisoned those of the earl’s and countess’s personal household who remained. The castle flew the king’s standard now, and the day-to-day administration was in the hands of Stephen and his two colleagues. John de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, had been made constable of the castle.

It had not taken them long to find that Rhonwen was Eleyne’s particular confidante, and even less time to assimilate the interesting information that she was a wanted murderess and a heretic. But they were biding their time. She could not go anywhere. All the women were imprisoned, and she might in some way hold a clue to Eleyne’s destination.

Stephen had sent riders in every direction when Eleyne’s flight had been discovered and had guards patrolling all the roads south. He knew the way her mind was working. She would try to reach her uncle and beg him to change his mind. He had expected to catch up with her within hours, but to his fury she and her companion had completely disappeared, and with her two of the prince’s best horses.

‘Sit down, my dear.’ Countess Clemence’s voice was surprisingly firm. ‘Don’t let that boorish man see that you are upset. He will be here in a minute.’ She pushed Rhonwen’s embroidery towards her. ‘You do know where she’s gone, don’t you?’ she asked quietly.