Twice Royal Lady Page 20

  ‘The men expect it,’ Alexander said. ‘They need something to get their blood up.’

  She looked at him. ‘Was it wise to put the Welsh in the front line?’

  ‘From what I’ve heard, talking to their princes, they’re a wild lot when the battle madness grabs them. They will rush in without thought for their own safety and can do a lot of damage before they’re forced to retreat. You see those bows they carry? They don’t use them at a distance, like a crossbow, but at short range. I’m told that from close to the arrows will pierce mail and leather and have been known to pin a knight’s leg to his horse’s side, through the saddle.’

  Robert rode back to his place in the centre. The formal preparations were complete. A moment later a trumpet sounded and the Angevins raised a shout that reached easily over the distance. The Welsh infantry rushed forward, yelling like fiends. On both wings, Stephen’s cavalry charged them. The fighting was fierce and brief and then the Welsh turned and ran back through their own ranks, leaving a number of bodies on the field.

  ‘They are fleeing. Cowards!’

  ‘No, clever tactics!’ Alexander said. ‘Stephen’s cavalry are scattered now. It will take time for them to rein in and return to their formation. This is our moment!’

  As he spoke, all three divisions of the Angevin cavalry spurred their horses towards the enemy. On Stephen’s right wing his knights were quickly pushed back or dispersed and Miles’s men wheeled right to threaten the central ranks around the King. On the left, the mercenaries under William of Ypres put up a little more resistance to Ranulph’s attack, but then there was a sudden reversal.

  ‘Look!’ she cried. ‘D’Ypres is leaving the field, and his men are following. They are deserting!’

  ‘They’ve seen that there is no chance of victory,’ Alexander said. ‘They have to choose between flight and a hopeless battle which will leave them either dead or prisoners. To my mind, they’ve made the sensible decision.’

  With resistance on both wings at an end Stephen and his knights were surrounded, but they fought on fiercely and some of the local militia stood with them. Robert had kept some of his knights dismounted and they now waded in to engage in bitter hand-to-hand combat. Even from the height where they stood the watchers could hear the ring of metal on metal and see sparks fly up as sword met sword.

  She craned her neck, struggling to see what was happening, but the mêlèe of bodies was so tightly packed that it was impossible to distinguish man from man. Suddenly a cheer went up from the Angevins and the fighting stopped as if at a signal. All round the field men laid down their arms and submitted to being made prisoner. Others were running, some of them back into the city, some towards the river, in a desperate attempt to escape. They were pursued and cut down.

  ‘That’s it!’ Alexander said. ‘We have the victory.’

  ‘Oh, praise God! Praise God!’ She discovered that she was panting as if she had been in the midst of the fight. ‘Is Stephen dead, do you think?’ she asked. ‘I hope not! I want to see him grovel!’

  ‘They won’t have killed him,’ Alexander assured her. ‘He’s too valuable a prize.’

  She stretched her arms, releasing the tension that had gripped her since the start of the battle. When she spoke her voice was unsteady. ‘I think we might ride down now and congratulate our victorious commanders.’

  By the time they reached the city the prisoners and the wounded had been taken into the castle. The Welsh were collecting their dead, but the field was strewn with bodies and men were scavenging amongst the debris for dropped weapons and any other items of value. Already the dogs and the crows had arrived. The river level had dropped and they were able to cross the ford without great difficulty, but as they did so one of her women gave a strangled cry. The current swept the body of a man across their path, and then two more. As they reached the far bank Matilda looked back and saw an upturned boat floating down towards them. Three men were clinging to the hull but they were carried out of sight and after them several more bodies floated past. It was obvious what had happened to the fugitives who fled in that direction. As they rode in through the city gate smoke was rising from several buildings and the ordinary soldiers were busily engaged in looting, the traditional reward of victory.

  She was received at the castle gate by William of Roumare with a deep obeisance and conducted into the great hall. Robert and Miles were standing with Ranulph, wine cups in hand; but as she entered they turned and bowed.

  ‘My lady, we have the victory. The usurper is conquered and nothing now stands in your way to the throne.’ Her brother’s voice was vivid with triumph.

  She gave him her hand. ‘My lord, you have fought well today. You all have, and be sure that you have my gratitude. You will find me generous when I finally come into my own.’ She looked from him to Miles. ‘You are not wounded, either of you?’

  ‘A bruise or two, nothing more,’ Miles assured her with a smile.

  ‘Where is Brian?’

  ‘Making sure the wounded are attended to.’

  ‘Do we have many casualties?’

  ‘None of note. Some minor wounds. We got off lightly.’

  Brian came into the hall. ‘The wounded are all in the chapel. The surgeon is with them.’ He saw her and came to fall on his knees before her.

  ‘Dear lady, my heart swells with joy to see you at last possessed of the royal authority which is yours by right of birth. May God be praised, who has brought the traitor Stephen low and raised you up to your rightful position.’

  He kissed her hands, and it was more than the formal touch of a vassal. She felt a tremor somewhere deep inside her body, a sensation she had not expected to know again.

  ‘Praise Him indeed.’ She drew him to his feet. There were tears in his eyes, but in spite of that the light in them reminded her of the young man who rode beside her to her betrothal. ‘And praise him for the loyal friends who have stood by me through these difficult years.’

  ‘And will do so as long as God gives them life,’ he responded.

  She looked round the hall. ‘Where is the usurper? You have not killed him?’

  ‘No, he lives,’ Robert said. ‘But he was brought down by a blow to the head and he is still scarcely conscious.’

  ‘Let me see him.’

  He led her down the hall to the dais at the end, where the lord’s table stood. Stephen was stretched out on it, with a surgeon bending over him. As she approached he shoved the man aside and struggled into a sitting position.

  ‘I am a king! I should not be treated like this! It is not fitting that a king should be brought low by a treacherous blow. I am the Lord’s anointed.’ His voice broke, somewhere between tears and anger.

  She looked at him and felt nothing but contempt, the same contempt she felt for Geoffrey when she saw him lying moaning in his own blood and excrement after the disaster at Le Sap. Men, she thought, are all the same – full of bravado when things are going well, self-pitying idiots when they are hurt. Most men, she corrected herself, thinking of Robert and Miles. There are exceptions.

  ‘You are not a king. You are a usurper who stole the throne from me, Henry’s rightful heir – to whom you once swore loyalty. Get down on your knees!’ Two men-at-arms who were standing guard dragged him off the table and forced him to his knees in front of her. ‘You will swear fealty to me, if you value your life.’

  ‘Never! I am the anointed King. You cannot take my place.’

  She raised her hand to strike him but Robert caught her wrist. ‘Let be, for now. He hardly knows where he is. Any oath now would be worthless.’

  For a moment she resisted, then she dropped her arm. ‘Very well. I can wait.’

  ‘Come, have a cup of wine. We have much to celebrate.’

  Chairs were brought forward and she sat with Robert beside her. Miles said, ‘I must look to the other prisoners.’

  ‘How many have we taken?’

  ‘Plenty, and some of high standing. Baldwin fitz Richar
d and Richard fitz Urse among them. They are both wounded but will recover.’ He bowed. ‘If you will excuse me, lady.’

  She nodded permission and turned to Robert. ‘How was Stephen captured?’

  ‘With some difficulty. His knights fought valiantly, but he excelled them all. I have to admit, I admire him for his courage. He was outnumbered but fought on nobly until his sword broke in his hand with the force of his blows. Then a man nearby, one of the townsfolk, I think, handed him a battle-axe and he laid about him with that so ferociously that no one could get near him, until William Kahamnes got round behind him. He had lost his helmet in the struggle and William hit him over the head with a rock. It was a shameful way for one of his courage to be felled. I understand something of his distress now.’

  She shook her head impatiently. She saw nothing to regret in the downfall of a traitor. ‘Send William to me. I will see he is rewarded. But now, what are we to do with Stephen?’

  ‘He must be kept prisoner until we can arrange your coronation. After that … well, it will be up to you to decide. I dare say his brother Theobald will offer a good ransom for him. For the present, I think it would be unwise for him to travel. We don’t want him to die on the journey. I suggest that you go back to Gloucester with Miles. I will stay here and see that everything is in order. I take it you are happy for William of Roumare to hold the castle?’ She nodded agreement. ‘As soon as Stephen is fit enough I will bring him to Gloucester and he can make his formal submission to you. After that, I think he will be safest housed at Bristol. There is no chance of him being rescued, or escaping, from there.’

  It was agreed. That night there was a feast of celebration, with the best fare Roumare could contrive after weeks under siege. Next day, she summoned her knights and, escorted by Miles with his forces, she began her journey westward.

  15

  ENGLAND, 1141

  She returned to Gloucester in triumph and was greeted with joy by Miles’s wife and children. Robert arrived the next day, bringing Stephen with him, but before he presented him to her he asked for a private word.

  ‘Be advised by me. Do not seek to humiliate Stephen.’

  She was immediately irritated. ‘Why not? He has stolen the throne and kept me from my rightful inheritance. He should be made to grovel.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘That would not be wise.’

  ‘Why? Why should I be careful of his pride?’

  ‘Because, for one thing, he fought bravely. It was a dastardly blow that felled him from behind.’

  Her lips curled. ‘You men! You think courage in battle is the only thing that matters. For you, the ability to swing a sword wipes out all other failings.’

  ‘That is not true. But courage deserves respect. There are more important reasons, however, to treat him carefully.’

  ‘What reasons?’

  ‘Whatever the rights and wrongs of the situation, he is an anointed king. For many people brutality towards him would come close to sacrilege.’

  ‘He is an oath breaker and a usurper. No amount of holy oil can wipe out that sin.’

  ‘You may be right, but think of this. When you are queen you will need the support and fealty of the men who now support Stephen. It will not make it easy for them to come over to our side if you show yourself arrogant and merciless.’

  She stared at him. Arrogant and merciless? It was not the first time she had been charged with the sin of pride. Was that how men saw her?

  More gently, he said, ‘You might also consider that if the battle had gone differently I might now be in Stephen’s position. Would you not wish me to be treated with the courtesy due to my rank?’

  She saw him in her imagination, shackled and brought to his knees. She swallowed back her anger and nodded. ‘Very well. Bring him to me. I want to see him.’

  Stephen was brought in. His hands were manacled and his head was bandaged, but he carried himself proudly. Their eyes met and he made the slightest obeisance.

  ‘Greetings, cousin.’ They might from the tone of his voice be once again in her father’s court. She clenched her jaw.

  ‘I may be your cousin by blood. But in the eyes of God I am your queen, and you will address me as such.’

  His gaze did not waver. ‘That is yet to be decided.’

  ‘It has been decided. God’s judgement on you was manifested when you lost the battle.’

  ‘I do not accept that. I am the crowned and anointed king. You are the rebellious subject who has riven the realm with conflict and brought destruction and starvation to its people. It is you who will ultimately have to answer to the judgement of God.’

  She stepped closer to him and spat the words. ‘Traitor! Oath breaker!’

  ‘Your father absolved all who took that oath on his death bed. He knew you were not worthy to rule.’

  She fought back the impulse to strike him. ‘We shall see soon who is worthy. Once I am crowned we shall have to decide what is to become of you. Until then, you are my prisoner. Take him away!’

  His guards hesitated and she saw they were unwilling to lay hands on him. ‘I said, take the traitor away!’

  He looked at her and the faint suggestion of a smile touched his lips. Then he bent his head very slightly and turned to the door. The two guards followed him out.

  She turned to Robert. ‘What will you do with him?’

  ‘I shall take him to Bristol, as I said.’

  ‘I want him close confined.’

  ‘Trust me. I shall make sure he does not escape.’

  She forced herself to be calm and moved away to sit at the table, beckoning him to sit beside her.

  He said, ‘So, what is our next move?’

  ‘We must make sure that the bishops are on our side. I have already sent to Bishop Henry, asking him to convene a council of all the leading churchmen. I think we can be confident of his support.’

  Robert frowned. ‘I hope you are right.’

  ‘Surely there is no doubt of that. He invited me to come to England, and he escorted me here from Arundel. Stephen may be his brother but he has obviously withdrawn his allegiance. He cannot forgive him for arresting those three bishops.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I just have a feeling that Bishop Henry’s allegiance is as changeable as the weather. All that matters to him is the power of the Church, and his standing within it.’

  She met his eyes. ‘Then we must offer him that power. He is already papal legate. He has to be convinced that I will never attempt to interfere with his jurisdiction in Church matters.’

  He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Are you prepared to accept that? Your husband the emperor spent most of his life struggling to maintain authority over the Church.’

  ‘England is not Germany. If that is the price of Henry’s support, so be it.’

  Gloucester Castle became a magnet, drawing the great men of the realm to offer their allegiance. Mainly they were men whose fiefs were in the west, some of them already sworn supporters, others waverers who had waited to see which way the battle went. Brian fitz Count was one of the first to arrive, to her great pleasure. Among others who had been loyal from the start was Bernard, Bishop of St David’s, who was once her mother’s chancellor. But there were still many who held aloof, reluctant to break their oaths to Stephen, or unsure where their best interests lay.

  News came from Normandy. Geoffrey, hearing of her success, had summoned a meeting of the nobles who held land there as well as in England, to determine where their allegiance should now lie. It seemed that their first reaction was to offer the overlordship to Theobald, Stephen’s brother, but he had declined it and offered the dukedom instead to Geoffrey, on condition that Stephen be released from prison and given back the lands he once held during the reign of King Henry. Geoffrey wrote:

  Be assured I have not accepted these conditions. Nonetheless, a number of castles have already submitted to me and I do not doubt but to have control over the whole duchy very soon. I have also concluded a truce with the two Beaumont t
wins, Robert and Waleran. Both have extensive lands on this side of the narrow seas as well as in England and will have to decide where their loyalty lies. So our cause progresses well and I look to see us undisputed rulers of England and Normandy very soon.

  She crumpled the letter furiously. ‘To Geoffrey! They offered the overlordship to Geoffrey. What business had they offering it to him? As Queen, Normandy belongs to me.’

  She saw Brian and Miles exchange glances. Brian said gently, ‘Nevertheless, it advances your cause to have your husband in control of Normandy. At the very least, it denies the resources of the duchy to Stephen and his supporters. Once you are crowned there will be time to establish your authority there.’

  ‘Those men would make Geoffrey king, in preference to me,’ she said bitterly. ‘They loathe the idea of being ruled by a woman.’

  ‘Then you must show them that you have all the qualities of a king,’ Miles said. ‘Let them see that you are the true-born daughter of the great Henry.’

  She straightened her shoulders. ‘You are right. I shall make them fear me, as they feared him. As for Geoffrey, he has Normandy now. It is all he cared about. He has no interest in ruling England.’

  A message arrived from Bishop Henry. He did not offer immediate submission but had referred the matter to a higher authority, the Pope. Meanwhile, he asked her to meet him at Wherewell, just outside Winchester, to consider their position.

  It was exactly a month from the day of the battle at Lincoln when she rode, with her closest companions, through the gateway of the ancient abbey of Wherewell on its fertile island in the River Test. In good weather this would be a delightful setting, but that day the sun was obscured by low cloud and a chill drizzle was falling. She shivered in spite of herself, unable to banish the thought that the omens were inauspicious.