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CHAPTER FIVE – THE PRICE OF SOVEREIGNTY

(Winchester, England, April 16, 1066)

Seated at the royal table amidst the revelry of the Easter feast in the Great Hall of the palace Queen Aldgyth Alfgar’s-Daughter gazed about at the crowded chamber with a mixture of great boredom and anticipation. Sipping wine from a golden goblet and picking at the few remnants of food left upon the platter set before her Aldgyth observed the merry bantering and capering of the noble lords and ladies in attendance in jaded indifference laced with an unsettling sense of expectation that left the consort of King Harold brooding and uneasy.

A burst of laughter from her left caused Aldgyth to cast a disapproving eye upon her Godwine relations. Harold’s family reciprocated the overt antagonism demonstrated by the Queen and her kin, the house of Earl Leofric having been the chief rivals of the Godwines for years prior to the marriage of convenience between their scions. Aldgyth frowned as her glance caught that of the young Lady Aelfgyva, Harold’s youngest sister, as she giggled in what Aldgyth held as a vulgar fashion at some doubtless crude remark made by Roger Malet, the nephew of Harold’s Norman associate. Aelfgyva, a bright vivacious maiden of twenty-two, was engaged to Roger with King Harold’s blessing, a match Aldgyth found distasteful and inappropriate under the circumstances. Fully aware of the Queen’s sentiments and ever pleased to spite her, Aelfgyva nodded and then grinned in a defiant manner as she placed a piece of fruit within her scarlet mouth and proceeded to kiss Malet hard, her tongue snaking about the delighted youth’s as she teased Roger by deftly inserting and withdrawing the fruit from his mouth in playful lasciviousness, winking at Aldgyth as the Queen reddened and turned away in disgust. Aldgyth was tempted to comment regarding Aelfgyva’s conduct to Harold, but the King was busy dancing with his other sister, a pretty nun named Gunnhild who had shed her customary religious habit to don a lovely emerald silk gown for the annual festivity.

“Look at him, Grandmother. Harold pirouettes with Gunnhild there in total ignoring of me, while his slut sister Aelfgyva cavorts with her Norman boar indecently before the entire court without a hint of shame! It’s disgraceful, and I’ve fair mind to confront my good husband on the matter, by the Virgin’s tears! It’s bad enough Harold refuses to lie with me to sire a rightful heir to the throne, but he’s barely spoken ten words to me through the entire feast, and he’s yet to ask me to dance with him! Harold mocks our matrimony in private, and now deigns to do so before the world, and I tell you I’ll not have it, I shall not!” Lady Godiva, the proud and commanding matriarch of the house of Earl Leofric famed for her legendary charm and beauty that remained intact in large part at age sixty-eight reassured her irate grandchild, reminding Lady Aldgyth of the position of considerable advantage she held despite Harold’s deliberate slighting of her. As Godiva offered encouragement, the anxiety of Aldgyth was somewhat but not totally assuaged, the Queen still possessed of an intuition which suggested possible peril.

“Be at ease, child. You are the Queen, duly crowned, and none can displace you no matter if your spouse chooses to treat you with less respect and affection than you deserve. Harold needs us, remember, even more so now that it’s rumored Edgar Aetheling’s claim to the throne may be recognized ere long by Rome thanks to Edith’s useful treachery. Godwinesson’s surrounded by enemies and he dare not antagonize our house lest we turn against him and effect his deposition as indeed we shall, when the hour is right. So let Harold dance and imagine that he is sovereign, Aldgyth. The advantage is entirely yours, my dear. Soon enough you’ll be a mother to Harold’s successor, legitimate or not, and free to reign as royal regent over this realm, with your family’s assistance, of course.” Queen Aldgyth smiled in cold calculating eagerness for absolute power’s privy wielding, harboring no intent of sharing such coveted authority with her grasping relations. Looking directly over her right shoulder, the Queen spotted a tall, brawny figure drinking while in conversation and ran her tongue across her lips in wanton insinuation, winking to the captain of her Welsh bodyguard Morgan ap Meurig and raising her goblet to take a deep swig, allowing the cool liquid to stain her chin in a wicked gesture of carnal promise. Lady Godiva tapped the Queen’s shoulder in stern reminder of the careful decorum Aldgyth needed to observe, the latter tearing away her gaze from her longtime lover with rueful reluctance.

“Take care, Aldgyth. Remember, you are on view as England’s royal domina, there shall be time enough later to pursue your amorous inclinations with your Welshman. Where’s that girl of yours, Gwendolyn, by the way? She had best not be trysting with that damned Huscarl Osbeorn again. Can’t you maintain a closer scrutiny over her, the last thing we need is a potential scandal now that the Emperor Henry has agree to accept Gwendolyn as his consort. You have discussed the matter with Gwendolyn and apprised her of her responsibilities to our house, yes?” Aldgyth nodded, rolling her eyes in recollection of the stormy argument which had ensued when she had informed her tempestuous daughter concerning her impending marriage of political convenience. Gwendolyn had vowed to thwart the proposed arrangement, but Aldgyth saw no reason to report her daughter’s threat to Godiva as she held it mere desperate bravado.

“Yes, Madam. Never fear, Gwen will do her duty. I wish I could be as certain of my brothers in the performance of theirs. Just look at them, won’t you? Morcar’s making advances at every serving wench in proximity, while Edwine is half in his cups already and set to make a drunken spectacle of himself as usual. I thought you were going to speak to them about exercising more discipline, and to recognize the importance of conducting themselves as befits the future uncles of the next ruler of England.” Lady Godiva frowned, observing her grandsons engaged in their typical loutish behavior with weary annoyance. Earl Morcar, who had replaced Tosti as lord of Northumbria, was groping a young dark-haired girl who was trying to convey food and wine to various tables aligning the Hall, fondling the wench’s anatomy as she endeavored to maneuver among the crowd of benches seating the nobility of England. Her task was complicated by the smoky atmosphere of the Hall rising from the roasting of a large pig upon a spit over the hearth at the Hall’s center. The windows had been opened to allow fresh air into the Hall, and insects swarmed in attracted to the food, the clamor of conversation amongst the guests punctuated by hand-waves and skin-slaps to vanquish them. Earl Morcar of Mercia stood near an open vat of ale, continually scooping up fresh cups of the beverage as he engaged in increasingly boisterous and incoherent intercourse with several of his nobles, all of whom smirked at his intoxication as they encouraged it with deliberate toasting.

“I have, Aldgyth, believe me, but you know your brothers. I’ll need speak with them again I suppose for all the good it’ll accomplish, God curse the fools to eternal hellfire! Tell me, think you the bitch Swanneshalles will show her face here in obedience to your ultimatum? It seems to me she wouldn’t dare, given her late scandalous exhibition of her painted flesh, but defiance upon her part would be a rather rash action, considering we hold it in our power to ruin Harold and Lady Gytha. You’ve spoken to Archbishop Stigand, correct? I trust even as we speak he sows speculative doubts regarding Harold Godwinesson’s legitimacy from his esteemed pulpit in Canterbury, implying in ever so subtle yet unmistakable fashion that Harold may be a pretender not only to the throne, but his own Godwine heritage. And I hope you told Stigand to include a few well-chosen barbs for Ealdgyth Swanneshalles within his sermon. I want that damned cunt brought to earth and made to choke upon it ere we’re done with her.” Queen Aldgyth smiled at the contemplation of humbling her hated rival in public before enforcing her exile, wishing she might have the opportunity and pleasure to flog Ealdgyth raw with her own hands while Harold gaped horrified but helpless. For a brief instant when she gazed at Harold their eyes met, Lady Aldgyth raising her cup in silent salute as King Harold frowned, shaking his head in disdain as he continued dancing with his sister Gunnhild.

“Bastard! Harold cannot even be bothered to look at me for more than a few seconds, such does my loving husband so dote upon me! I hope Ealdgyth does appear, Grandmother, I swear, I’d relish the chance to confront that old presumptuous tart face to face, I’d show Swanneshalles who’s mistress of this domain, and another thing, I’d tell her - !” The Queen’s ired threat faded as a sudden hush fell over the hitherto riotous Hall. The musicians ceased playing and all eyes turned toward the entrance to the Great Hall, the quiet being so intense all that was heard was a low buzzing from the sundry bees navigating among the revelers. Standing next to the herald stationed at the top of the short stairway leading up from the Hall’s entrance was a tall woman covered by a long red silk cloak from head to foot, the cloak fastened at her shoulder by a gold brooch. Her brown hair was worn long, and glistened with jewels that had been entwined within it in the normal fashion of unmarried maidens. Her face’s cosmetic had been exquisitely applied, highlighting a dazzling smile, and a pair of long dark leather boots covered her feet. The woman wore white gloves upon her hands, and was accompanied by a pair of attendants, one about forty years of age with a pretty face dominated by large bright eyes of sky-blue, and the other a girl of about twenty who bore a striking resemblance to Lady Aldgyth, although this physical similarity was all the Queen and her daughter Princess Gwendolyn shared in common. To Aldgyth’s deep exasperation a well-dressed woman seated at a table nearest the entrance stood up and raised her cup in tribute to the new arrival, everyone present joining her save for the house of Leofric.

“My friends, I solicit you to join me in raising your cups in honor of a true noblewoman who of late has demonstrated in most admirable fashion that a lady of honor and dignity can never be stripped of those attributes, even if she should be turned out naked into the street by the wiles of deceit, envy, and malice. Ladies and gentlemen of England, I give you my dear friend Ealdgyth Swanneshalles, she who wears the illustrious crown of character’s incomparable majesty with a grace surpassing that of ranker royalty! Three cheers for Lady Ealdgyth Swanneshalles, a queen in her nature if not yet in name!” A great roar, and round of ardent applause greeted the petition of Lady Torfrida, the Flemish-born wife of Lord Hereward of Lincolnshire, one of King Harold’s closest friends, and Ealdgyth in wet-eyed gratitude embraced her cherished intimate and raised a cup handed to her by Torfrida in acknowledgment of the assembly’s warm salute, winking at the infuriated Queen she had upstaged as she drank, laughing and curtsying to the crowd in charming appreciation of its thunderous approval. King Harold bowed to his heart’s true consort, grinning at Ealdgyth’s calculated entrance, and then locked eyes with Aldgyth again, his stare as cool and distant as though Aldgyth was a stranger, which the Queen recognized to her frustration she was in contrast to Ealdgyth, Harold’s familiar favorite.

“Damn it, Aldgyth, do something! You cannot allow Swanneshalles to mock and make a fool of you in such public fashion, you hear? You are the Queen of England, granddaughter, now act like one, by Christ’s scarlet thorns!” Lady Godiva’s harsh exhorting, along with a sense of panic goaded Queen Aldgyth to advance quick upon Ealdgyth, and with a swing of her hand knock the cup from Ealdgyth’s grasp to the shocked gasp of the onlookers and the darkening of the King’s expression in anticipation of scandalous trouble. The woman standing beside Ealdgyth, her loyal attendant Belgifu, reddened and made to confront the Queen, but Ealdgyth held up a hand to halt her, smiling in a contemptuous manner at her royal adversary as she reacted to Aldgyth’s blatant challenge with casual amusement and a riddle for the court.

“I thank you, dear friends and fellow nobles, for your kind reception. I have come here today not only to join in the joyful revelry attending this lavish feast in celebration of our Lord Christ’s saving Resurrection, but to put to you all a riddle that occurred to me in wake of a recent episode I daresay I need not recount in detail, as by now you’re all familiar with its particulars as well as the sum motivations behind its despicable and indeed cowardly crafting. I also wanted to permit you all the first view of some new flesh-ink I’ve recently acquired to commemorate that episode and to honor its twin collaborators in an enduring and I hope most apt fashion they truly deserve. So without any further delay, my good friends, I give you the riddle. Are you ready?” A round of applause met Ealdgyth’s intriguing inquiry to Aldgyth’s intense indignation and the Queen in effort to regain control of the situation called for Morgan ap Meurig to arrest Ealdgyth on charge of having assaulted Lady Garcyne. The victim of the assault, her mouth bruised from Ealdgyth’s previous blow, rushed forward to stand beside her royal cousin, pointing a finger of accusation at Ealdgyth as she echoed Aldgyth’s order for Ealdgyth’s immediate apprehension.

“Morgan ap Meurig! As the rightful Queen of this realm, I hereby command you to take into custody and hold in confinement for formal trial this trespasser, Ealdgyth Swanneshalles, upon a charge of having viciously and unlawfully battered my good cousin the Lady Garcyne, who shall give testimony against said Ealdgyth for having perpetrated such outrageous and illegal abuse of her at the Archbishop’s Palace in Canterbury before witnesses to be called to confirm such abuse including His Excellency himself! Swanneshalles shall be held in solitary imprisonment, seeing no one and allowed no communication beyond the walls of her confinement until she is brought to justice for her grievous offense. Take her, Morgan, now, I demand it!” Lady Garcyne nodded in agreement, thrusting her finger at Ealdgyth with almost hysterical incense, calling for severest measures to be imposed for Ealdgyth’s prior striking of her. Ealdgyth regarded Garcyne with an expression of indifference, shaking her head in acute distaste.

“Yes, by all means, have this criminal bitch arrested at once! Look at what she did to me, she struck me without cause or warning in presence of the Primate of England and others, and I want the accursed cunt to pay in full for my disfiguring! Hang the wench by her teats, I say, or by her short hairs, or better yet, burn her alive for her innumerable sins, let her go warm Lucifer’s loins in the foulest depths of damnation! Good cousin, I demand justice, and I demand it this instant!” Ealdgyth laughed in derision at Garcyne’s screeching idiocy, and as Morgan ap Meurig glanced at her in wary hesitation Belgifu drew a dagger from a sheathe at her waist, instructing Morgan to retain fair distance from her mistress on pain of bloodshed.

“I’d stay away from my Lady Ealdgyth were I you, Welshman. Otherwise, I may just have to bleed those fine ballocks of yours in a fashion you’ll not savor, nor will she within whom you are prone of late to empty them, God have mercy upon your base and degenerate souls!” At the snide remark a snickering of salacious humor rose from the crowd, as couples whispered to one another in muted tones while casting knowing looks of lascivious awareness at Queen Aldgyth, who burned with ferocious mortification at her embarrassment. Queen Aldgyth’s humiliation was augmented by the riddle Ealdgyth then presented to the assembly in a confiding tone.

“Now then, friends. Tell me, anyone. What peculiar of nature is it that splays like a strumpet, slithers and spews venom like a serpent, slavers after raw meat like a she-wolf, and makes mortal its mate like a mantis while wantonly imposing rude horns of rank betrayal on the crowned heads of its consorting? Can anyone present inform us regarding the identity of this bizarre creature of which I speak, pray? Anyone?” Queen Aldgyth fumed as members of the crowd turned to each other in curiosity, shrugging and sharing quiet speculations concerning the answer to the enigma as Lady Ealdgyth contemplated Aldgyth with gloating satisfaction, silently defying the Queen to wager her own reply. After several minutes of intriguing reflection, Ealdgyth clapped her hands and prepared to share the puzzle’s solution.

“Since no one here seems prepared to venture so much as a guess concerning the nature of the strange beast I’ve alluded to, I’ll spare you all further effort and reveal the entity to whom I have referred. My dear friends and fellow nobles, I give you the Lady Aldgyth, the great bitch herself, a queen of the flesh in the fair tradition of Theodora although not nearly as discriminating as that distinguished imperial harlot in her bedsport’s torrid abandon! All hail Aldgyth, devoted consort to the late Prince Gruffydd of Wales whom she loved literally to his death, we all know, and wife of our own good King Harold, may Almighty God above forever bless and keep him, and ensure his seed of Wales alone should conceive the future glory in liberty of this English realm we love as life itself! All hail be to Queen Aldgyth Alfgar’s-Daughter, I say, all hail, and to honor her in the proper manner her esteemed conduct as England’s royal mistress has earned, behold ye how I have deigned incorporate the Queen’s venerable image into my very skin in a fit rendering of her most famous posture as Morgan ap Meurig over yonder doubtless may attest, I’m sure! And I’ve not forgotten to commemorate Archbishop Stigand in likewise appropriate fashion for his similar leaning, as you all shall now comprehend without fail, I daresay!” Disposing of her long crimson cloak, Lady Ealdgyth unveiled her absolute nudity beneath it, her sundry flesh etchings fully on view for the crowd to inspect in gaping amazement. Turning about to display her rump in an arc Ealdgyth revealed the inked figures of a man and a woman, naked, the former painted on the left cheek and the latter on the right. The male figure boasted a mitre and an exaggerated phallus of preposterous length, its eyes bulging and glazed with lust and its tongue extended towards Lady Ealdgyth’s anus in lewd engagement. The female figure sported a crown and captured Aldgyth in every aspect of her likeness from the bump in her nose to the mole on the left side of her chin to the swinishness of her small dark eyes, and her wild mane of unkempt dark hair touched with gray. The figure was in a canine position with its arse raised and its swollen breasts swaying as its massive tongue snaked out toward the grotesque genitalia of the opposite character, dripping saliva as its mouth appeared ready to swallow the tremendous staff it confronted and one hand’s fingers thrust deep within its exposed hairless sex, also portrayed as glistening with the sheen of carnal arousal. To the assembly it seemed the representations of Aldgyth and Stigand were both portrayed as ardently tonguing Ealdgyth’s rear passage, amidst an act of illicit French commerce, and when Lady Ealdgyth gyrated her hips only slightly the tongue of the female figure seemed to lash the Goliathan length of its counterpart while stimulating itself in such a way as to inspire the general involuntary mirth of the court, including King Harold and his relations. Queen Aldgyth was so stricken with fury and a shameful blushing by Ealdgyth’s devastating demonstration she reacted instinctively, snatching a knife from a table and hurling herself at her antagonist with a savage shriek of vengeful hatred.

“Fucking God-cursed bitch, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!” As Queen Aldgyth thrust at Ealdgyth with deadly intent Belgifu and Princess Gwendolyn stepped between her and her target, seizing the maddened and resistant Aldgyth as King Harold rushed forward to prevent further physical confrontation between her and Lady Ealdgyth. Cries and gasps erupted at the scandalous scene as the Godwines and their Mercian relations swift moved to support their respective kinswomen, glaring at one another in barely restrained hostility. Princess Gwendolyn addressed her mother hotly as Harold gestured for Ealdgyth to step aside for urgent conference, the King nodding to a concerned William Malet who then slipped out of the Hall to assemble Harold’s bodyguard as a precaution against possible assault by the house of Leofric and its minions.

“Mother, for the love of God, please, control yourself! You’ve only yourself to blame, you know, for your present undoing. You’ve behaved disgracefully the last three years, ever since we came here after you betrayed my good sire Prince Gruffydd to his death. You have plotted incessantly to become the power of this realm, first by undermining the position of Earl Tosti in favor of Uncle Morcar and then wooing Harold Godwinesson under false pretenses. You never loved any man, not my father and certainly not your current royal husband, Madam, you simply use them for your own nefarious ends before mortally discarding them through the most wicked sort of treachery, but Harold’s abiding love for the woman who loves him thorns you, Lady, and thus you feel compelled to destroy Ealdgyth Swanneshalles by any means necessary, resulting in that rank episode of her attempted entrapment and extortion which occurred lately at Canterbury! Well, Mother, you’ve failed, and now your sins are placed before the world for all to ponder, and it gladdens me, do you hear? I’ve waited three long years to have revenge on you for my father’s base slaying, and for your unforgivable effort to enforce my own harlotry to Harold to obtain his alliance so you could escape Wales and the wrath of Prince Gruffydd’s faithful kin and retainers after you arranged his brutal murder, and now I intend to drive the blade of vengeance to the hilt into your cold black heart! You thought you would get rid of me to prevent my testimony, Lady, but I’ll have the last laugh against you, Mother, I swear! I accuse you, Aldgyth, I accuse you of plying adultery with that man, the captain of your bodyguard, Morgan ap Meurig, adultery I can state before God I’ve witnessed in the flesh with my own eyes, I’ve seen you with my own eyes, Aldgyth, and now you will pay for your manifold crimes, do you hear, you shall pay, you’ll pay, dear mother, so help me!” Queen Aldgyth responded to her daughter’s excoriating renunciation by striking Princess Gwendolyn in the face and attempting to stab her, being held back by Earls Morcar and Edwine as she flailed and gnashed her teeth at Gwendolyn, vowing stern retaliation for such public treason.

“Lying, ungrateful, manipulative little cunt! You’ll suffer for what you’ve dared say this day, you damned conniving bitch of bastard seed, I promise you, daughter, you’ll never live to spew perjury against me formally, never, slattern, I’ll have you and your fucking Huscarl lover killed in the most extreme and agonizing fashion, both of you, do you hear me, Gwendolyn, you ought have gone to Aachen and wed the Emperor Henry, wench, now only death awaits you instead of mounting a throne by grace of a royal cock’s ram! Take care, girl! Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, I shall repay, remember that, you malicious little whore, remember that well!” Gwendolyn retreated in abrupt trembling at Queen Aldgyth’s threatening as Lady Godiva endeavored to calm her livid granddaughter, admonishing Aldgyth to observe some measure of discretion for sake of her exalted position and its expected dignity. The panting red-faced Queen said nothing, glaring with terrible loathing at Harold, Ealdgyth, and Gwendolyn, who made an obscene gesture at her that made Aldgyth regret not drowning the Princess at birth or otherwise disposing of her earlier.

Lady Godiva continued whispering in Aldgyth’s ear, counseling prudence and patience.

“Think, Aldgyth! You are the Queen of England, as I’ve reminded you, and you stand before the entire court at this critical instant! If you’re to redeem the present situation you must display the proper self-possession befitting one of sovereign estate and not allow this damned concubine the better of you! Venting your natural and understandable emotional bitters only plays into the hands of those who despise you, Harold Godwinesson in particular! Therefore you must contain your outraged sentiments and resolve to enact the role of your crown’s imposition with undiluted equanimity, child, lest your position in this land be irrevocably compromised, do you understand, your Majesty?” The Queen gazed at Godiva and bowed her head in rueful comprehension of her wily grandmother’s frank and seasoned advice. Mustering her wits and strength Aldgyth evinced as much imperious authority as she could summon to refute the charge made by Gwendolyn, and reiterated her demand for Ealdgyth’s arrest in the same assertive tone.

“Let it be known before all herein assembled that I, Aldgyth Alfgar’s-Daughter, Queen of this English realm, do hereby fully and unequivocally deny and reject the charge of adultery brought against me by my daughter, who has selfish cause of her own to seek my reputation’s tarnishing through such abominable and unchristian falsehood’s advancement. I have been and continue to be faithful unto to my marriage vows with my good lord Harold, made King of England with the support of my house, as he apparently forgets. Hitherto it has been my pleasure to guard certain secrets pertaining to my lord Harold’s proper qualification to possess not only the august title of Alfred, but that of the late Earl Godwine of Wessex as well, may God have mercy upon his soul. It has also been my own free will to remain silent concerning the precise circumstances resulting in the tragic passing of my previous spouse Prince Gruffydd of Wales, with whom my good lord Harold was then at war without obtaining much in the way of any substantial outcome as I recall. Now, it would grieve me profoundly to need divulge all manner of unsavory details pertaining to Harold’s in fact rather questionable legitimacy as his sire’s lawful inheritor, a legitimacy that can be further cast into doubt I daresay should his noble sister the Lady Edith my esteemed sovereign predecessor currently immured at Dover be permitted to expand upon certain serious charges she leveled against her brother at the deathbed of our venerable King Edward, may heaven bless and exalt him. And it would wound my heart just as deeply to have to discuss publicly Harold’s role in effecting my lord Prince Gruffydd’s untimely end, as well as his less than benevolent interest in Princess Gwendolyn. However, unless my desire for proper justice in the case of my cousin Lady Garcyne and her assailant is assuaged without a further delay through the confining of this wretched woman Ealdgyth Swanneshalles for trial, I fear I shall be left with no choice but that of full disclosure, as shall the allies of my house such as His Excellency Archbishop Stigand, who at this moment I believe is preaching a sermon condemning of the appropriation and abusing of power based upon criminal deception, passing a bastard child off as a noble lord’s rightful son, for example, a grave moral and legal trespass further compounded when the perpetrator of such vile fraud is likewise culpable for the cruel mutilation unto death of the pretender’s natural sire. If my information is correct, the Primate also deigns comment in passing most unfavorably on the subject of certain vulgar women flaunting their lurid sex and skins to excite public scandal for purely gratuitous purposes. Perhaps Madam Swanneshalles is best qualified to speak upon the latter subject, given her past and present penchant for indulging in such dubious exhibition. Then, we might hear from the venerable Lady Gytha regarding the long-obscured truth of her covert trysting with the ill-starred Prince Alfred Aetheling, brother to our late liege, and how a lovers’ quarrel led to Alfred’s fatal eclipse and the imposition of his illegitimate progeny upon the good people of Wessex first, and at length the entire English kingdom. Or if it please you, we might turn our attention to the report of Edgar Aetheling’s potential acclaiming by Rome as rightful heir to Edward’s royal estate, ere long. God knows, if my demands are not met, I shall be disposed toward a lengthy and candid discourse concerning all of these most sensitive topics, truly, with whatever perchance unfortunate consequence arising from such indelicate converses proving of no more concern to me than the sufferings of an insect I chance to squash within my grasp.” As if to drive home her point, the Queen caught and crushed a buzzing bee and showed the creature’s splattered remains to Harold with a cold smile and affectionless wink, the impact of Aldgyth’s merciless demonstration as well as her sensational insinuations inciting immediate action by an angry and anxious King Harold to deter a further public unearthing of his family’s skeletons. The return of William Malet with a large cohort of Harold’s loyal Huscarls served to assist the harried monarch in reestablishing his personal authority, and bring the celebration to a swift, orderly conclusion. Ealdgyth started to speak, but a hard glance from Harold silenced her as the King raised his hands and decreed the assembly of his nobles to disperse.

“My friends, I must ask you all to depart from the palace, for I must confer in private with my family concerning important matters of state. I thank you for your attendance at this Easter feast and bid you affectionate Godspeed to your homes. Thank you. Good day. William, please have your men see the lords and their ladies are escorted out with all due courtesy.” Malet waved for the Huscarls to begin herding the nobles from the Great Hall, politely but firmly. As the crowd milled in muted fashion toward the exit King Harold was left to face Queen Aldgyth flanked by Earls Morcar and Edwine and Lady Godiva. Morcar’s wife Lady Dealborn and Edwine’s Lady Glaedfrith sat at the table reserved for Aldgyth’s family, their expressions pensive, awaiting the pleasure of their spouses and royal sister-in-law. Queen Aldgyth gazed at them and with a nod bid them withdraw, her in-laws rising and curtsying to Aldgyth as they departed. King Harold watched them go, supported by his brothers Earl Gyrth of East Anglia, Earl Leofwine of the East Midlands, and Lord Wulfnoth, his sisters Aelfgyva and Gunnhild, William and Roger Malet, and his mother Lady Gytha, who contemplated Queen Aldgyth and her own arch-rival Lady Godiva with contemptuous indignation. Princess Gwendolyn stood close by Lady Ealdgyth and Belgifu in anticipation of further menace by her mother, Harold looking at Ealdgyth and motioning for her to cover herself with her cloak. Ealdgyth complied somewhat reluctantly and bowed to her husband, her nonchalance irking.

“Now then, Lady Aldgyth. About your latest insinuations against me and my family, and the charge of adultery lodged against you by your own daughter. Roger Malet, will you please have Morgan ap Meurig brought back in here for questioning, please?” Roger turned to obey the King but then a tall young Huscarl entered the Great Hall escorting the Welsh captain, who appeared quite subdued in proximity to Harold, unable or unwilling to meet the King’s withering gaze of disdainful hostility. Princess Gwendolyn blushed and smiled at the Huscarl, who regarded her with evident affection to the plain disdain of her family.

“Excuse me, your Majesty. This gentleman seemed in a great hurry to flee the premises, but I had a feeling that you might wish him to linger hereabouts. I hereby present Captain Morgan ap Meurig for your inspection, sire.” King Harold grinned and returned the sharp salute of Osbeorn of Aldbourne, the none-too-secret lover of Princess Gwendolyn, the two amorous youths sharing a passionately longing exchange of lingering romantic glances, oblivious to the amusement such open mutual desire inspired in King Harold and his relations and the intense displeasure of Lady Aldgyth at its unabashed public display. The Queen saw that Morgan ap Meurig was looking at her in an urgent fashion and deliberately turned her back to him, determined not to be undone by her paramour’s cowardly unnerving.

“Very good, young man. Why don’t you stand by Princess Gwendolyn there, as I believe the lady is feeling rather uneasy just now. I’ll get to you in a moment, Captain. First, there are these ridiculous allegations of the Queen’s to dispose of. We both understand quite well that ours isn’t a love match, Aldgyth, God knows. We tolerate each other for the greater good of England, and I had agreed your daughter Princess Gwendolyn should have the honor of marrying the Emperor Henry to seal the alliance between us at your personal request, and how do you choose to repay my charitable indulgence, Madam? By spouting the most unfounded and offensive of slanders against not only me, but my mother as well, a woman of unimpeachable repute, as opposed to some others of her generation courtesy forbids me from mentioning. That you would prove a faithless wanton was to be expected, in all frankness, Aldgyth, considering how you lured the late Prince Gruffydd to death in your carnal embrace, not even allowing him the final dignity of completion ere your henchman beheaded him in harness. You may imply I sanctioned your act of conjugal treachery, my lady, but we both know you conceived and executed your despicable plot without my awareness or input, presenting me with Gruffydd’s head afterward with your offer of formal submission politically and personally when the fatal deed was an accomplished fact. This of course was after I’d politely refused the proffering of Gwendolyn’s chastity as an initial ploy of yours to earn my protection from the righteous ire of your husband and his loyal men after Gruffydd had discerned your shameless adultery with his half-brothers, both of them at once, may God have mercy on your soul. As for Edgar Aetheling’s possible acclamation, well, your Majesty, I wouldn’t wager my life on it, mark me! Worst and most absurd of all however is your aspersion against the Lady Gytha in effort to cast doubt upon my unquestioned paternity as a son of Godwine. Unlike your grandmother, Aldgyth, Lady Gytha has no episodes of scandal in her past to haunt her. She was a devoted wife, and incomparable mother to all her children with a lifetime’s fair dedication to kind and decent comportment in all things under all circumstances, and she’s earned the universal respect and admiration of her peers these many years through her outstanding demonstration of consistent high moral character. So I say to hell with your sordid envious innuendoes, Madam, and soon enough I’ll be empowered to say the same concerning our God-cursed troth as well, by Lord Christ and His blessed saints! Tell me, Morgan ap Meurig, if I were to put fire to your manly stones, Welshman, what sort of vulgar ditty would you sing about your relations with Her Majesty my good consort? A most profane ballad of illicit lust’s wicked entertainment, I’m sure! Princess Gwendolyn! Step forward, and recount for us exactly the acts of lurid adultery committed by your noble mother and this scurvy lapdog of hers! Speak, Gwen, without fear, for you’re now under Godwine family protection. Tell us, girl, in explicit detail, I bid you, how Lady Aldgyth has disgraced herself and her crown through her promiscuous sport with Morgan and God only knows how many other debauched accomplices!” Gwendolyn was about to testify when Queen Aldgyth looked at Lady Aelfgyva and unexpectedly motioned her to come forward, seeming poised to make some inquiry of her young sister-in-law. Aelfgyva was wary, but when Harold shrugged and nodded she obliged Aldgyth in tentative fashion, prepared to satisfy whatever curiosity the Queen might harbor.

“Yes, my lady? Is there something you wish to ask of me, Madam, if so, I’ll be glad to – Oh! My God, Harold, for the love of heaven, brother, help me!” Aelfgyva’s cry was silenced by Earl Morcar’s blade being pressed against her throat after Queen Aldgyth had abruptly seized her and thrown her into his grasp, Roger Malet reacting by likewise producing a weapon and lunging for the Queen, imitating the Earl of Northumbria in his menacing of Aldgyth. For a tense moment a stalemate prevailed as the opposing factions stared at one another, awaiting the first move on the other’s part. Then King Harold addressed Roger Malet and Earl Morcar, suggesting a trading of kinswomen as the most prudent solution to the perilous predicament.

“My lord Morcar, Roger, the key to resolving this situation peacefully appears obvious. You must release your respective hostages in tandem, that we may discuss matters as befits civilized nobility, rather than brute murderous savages. Agreed, gentlemen?” Earl Morcar, a lord known for his notorious rapacity and cruelty, dismissed Harold’s petition, holding his dagger harder at Aelfgyva’s tender neck. Roger Malet, appalled and outraged at his beloved’s endangering, was equally unwilling to yield Aldgyth until Aelfgyva’s safety was secured.

“Go to hell, Godwinesson! I’ll not release this pretty little thing until all of my good sister’s terms have been met, and that most treacherous niece of mine has been returned to our custody! I’d not tarry in offering submission, Harold, lest my dagger’s thirst for fresh scarlet whelm my restraint of its appetite!” Roger Malet thrust back Queen Aldgyth’s head at Morcar’s demand, his knife placed against Aldgyth’s throat with such violence it broke skin, allowing a trickle of crimson to spill down the Queen’s neck. Wild-eyed, Aldgyth commanded Morgan ap Meurig to aid her, but the Welshman seemed disinclined to place himself at risk upon her behalf.

“Morgan! God damn you, man, I know you have ballocks, demonstrate the fact and redeem me from this unforgivable assault! Help me, Morgan, I order you! Don’t just stand there, idiot! Release me from this Norman dog’s brute grasp, at once! Did you hear me? Morgan! Morgan, God curse you! What the hell are you doing? Stop, stop, you wretched imbecile!” To Aldgyth’s chagrin Morgan ap Meurig shook his head in denial of her decree and made to flee the scene, but was tripped by William Malet to sprawl upon the floor in a quivering heap, groping to a kneeling posture in an evident gesture of surrender. Aldgyth spat at him in disgust as Roger Malet issued the Queen’s family a grave dictate for Lady Aelfgyva’s immediate liberty from harm.

“I’ll only say this once, so take you fair heed. If my lady Aelfgyva is not released by Morcar at once, I swear before Almighty God and Our Savior Christ Jesus I will not scruple to open the veins of this woman I hold to mortal effect. Mark me, house of Leofric! If you value the life of your kinswoman you’ll return Aelfgyva to our care without further molestation, or by the saints and angels above I’ll slaughter her like the God-cursed sow she is! Release Aelfgyva now, or I will kill the Queen! Do not deign test me in this, unless you wish to accommodate my lord the King’s desire for a new royal consort!” Lady Gytha, Harold’s mother, laid a hand upon Roger Malet’s shoulder as she advocated Harold’s notion of a mutual freeing of the hostages, gazing with contemptuous indignation at Aldgyth as she urged the observance of proper etiquette and stated her fearlessness of the Queen’s charges. Lady Godiva quick added her voice to Gytha’s in a rare display of consensus with her longtime adversary.

“Roger, I beg you, do not stoop to the level of our enemies. As my dear son has reminded us, we are not barbarians to discuss critical matters at the point of swords, so to speak. Let us deign henceforth to conduct ourselves like the noble entities we are, please, as there shouldn’t be need among us for such boorish combativeness in order for the squash of idle rumor of old to be thus commenced with. If Her Majesty has questions concerning my past and the legitimate paternity of her husband, then I shall be pleased to answer them. Swiftly and succinctly, I can assure you.

Shall we be seated?” Lady Godiva instructed Earl Morcar to comply with Lady Gytha’s request, encountering angry resistance from him and Earl Edwine to her incensed embarrassment. It took Queen Aldgyth’s snarled command of exasperated impatience to induce the reluctant yielding of her brothers to reason.

“Morcar! Let Aelfgyva go. We’ll show all these damned Godwines they’re no better or more polite than we are in the conducting of official business. By all means let us confer like properly sophisticated gentry and discuss our differences and the most expedient means of resolving them. That is, if young Roger Malet can be persuaded to behave like a gentleman and remove the blade held to my royal grandchild’s throat.” Earl Morcar protested freeing Lady Aelfgyva, as did Earl Edwine in vociferous fashion, causing Lady Godiva to roll her eyes in acute annoyance at such a manifesting of dull-wittedness. Aldgyth ground her teeth as she snapped out a caustic decree of obedience with Roger Malet’s blade still positioned tight against her flesh.

“That would be sheer folly, Grandmother, and you know it! We’ve an opportunity to gain an invaluable hostage in perpetuity against these Godwine curs and you know Roger Malet will not dare to murder the Queen of England! I say we depart this precinct, at once, with both Aelfgyva and Gwendolyn firm in our custody! It’s our best hope of maintaining the crucial advantage we require to keep my good sister upon the throne and to ensure her child-to be at length inherits as legitimate offspring of Harold Godwinesson!” Gasps of shock arose from the Godwines at Earl Morcar’s careless exposure of Queen Aldgyth’s concealed pregnancy, and both Aldgyth and the King glanced at the still-cowering Morgan ap Meurig, who paled at beholding Harold’s rightful fury at his adulterous cuckolding. Earl Edwine chastised his brother’s rash revelation and urged Morcar’s strategy of immediate withdrawal with their hostages be adopted.

“Morcar’s right, Grandmother! It’s best we retain hold of Aelfgyva so we may enforce the return of the traitor Gwendolyn to our hands, and thereafter employ the former as guarantor of Godwine yielding to our wield of true power in this realm! Now that the fact of Lady Aldgyth’s maternity is known Harold must be made to acknowledge her child’s paternity and what better way to thus ensure his acclamation of the impending infant than by maintaining our hold on his precious and lovely kinswoman? We must retain young Aelfgyva as our lever, Madam, or the Godwines will attempt to depose Aldgyth from her sovereign seat and denounce her as the Welsh coward’s slut, as sure as Lucifer’s stones are singed by hellfire! Let us retreat as my brother has suggested, for as Morcar observes the Godwines and their minions aren’t likely to steep themselves in the gory infamy of an anointed Queen’s wanton slaying!” Lady Aldgyth fairly shrieked her denunciation of her brothers’ logical fallacies as King Harold huddled with his relations to briefly but fiercely debate following Lady Gytha’s lead in offering to engage in formal parlance with their Mercian kin despite the despicable tactics of the latter. William Malet stood by his nephew, advising the house of Leofric not to make a fatal misjudgment regarding the seriousness of Roger’s intention should Aelfgyva come to grief. Princess Gwendolyn and Osbeorn of Aldbourne joined Harold’s family conference at Lady Ealdgyth’s request, listening to the heated discussion determining of their future with expressions of pensive anticipation.

“God curse you for the morons you are, brothers, if you think this damned Norman bastard’s not in earnest to slit my throat if you provoke him to it! Let the wench go, we have other ways to secure our interests against Godwine intrigue, do you hear, secure my freedom at once or by God you’ll both live to regret permitting my extended menacing, mark me!” William Malet urged the Earls to heed the Queen’s entreaty as Roger Malet’s dagger continued to caress Aldgyth’s throat with the cold stroke of mortality. Morcar frowned, exchanging a quizzical glance of uncertainty with Earl Edwine, who shrugged and shook his head.

“The Queen assesses her predicament quite properly, my good lords, I promise you. Roger’s not one to risk inciting where the welfare of his woman’s concerned, trust me. He’ll make a fair mess of your sister if you press him too far, and you’ll have only yourselves to blame for such a dire tragedy. Best to exercise discretion, I think, and release Aelfgyva ere my brother’s patience is exhausted, and lethal violence ensues.” Earl Morcar responded to William Malet’s counsel by pressing his blade harder against Aelfgyva’s neck, refusing to release his hostage. King Harold contemplated his captive kinswoman with anxious aggravation, eager to redeem Aelfgyva from harm but also extremely frustrated by the vexing domestic crisis, and its potential for damaging consequences at the least opportune instant.

“Well, this is a fine time for the sundry elements of my house to engage in outright civil war with one another when I’ve the Normans at the door to the south, the possible threat of Norway to contend with, and the peril of Rome’s declaring against my reign’s legitimacy to confront as well! I trust at least one of you has prudent advice to advance regarding the encompassing of a temporary solution to the present situation, yes?” Gunnhild, a thoughtful woman of great sense and insight, counseled the King to make peace with their sister Edith and secure her support for his royal governance at any cost, offering to act as his emissary to the estranged Queen. Harold proved reluctant, recalling Edith’s previous demonstration of embittered defiance with little true hope of reconciliation.

“Hal, please listen to me. The plain fact is that you need our kinswoman Edith to declare in your favor. She’s still widely reverenced as the true royal domina of the realm, and only Edith can claim to speak with credible authority concerning the wishes of her late husband pertaining to Edward’s succession. Despite your late distancing, brother, you must understand and accept the reality of our sister’s vital necessity as an ally and resign yourself to her accommodating as you must to gain Edith’s renewed filial affection and allegiance. To my view, there’s no other alternative.” Earl Gyrth, a powerfully built man of lean muscularity, and Earl Leofwine, a fair giant almost seven feet tall, nodded ruefully in agreement with Gunnhild’s perspective, but the notion of Edith’s appeasement as the proper remedy to the dilemma of Harold’s tenuous hold upon sovereignty was dismissed by Lord Wulfnoth, as was any other policy of non-aggressive resolution to the family’s difficulties. Lord Wulfnoth, a wiry restless youth of medium height and fierce temperament, insisted upon physical confrontation as the only means of reasserting Harold’s royal prerogatives to counter the treacherous machinations of Lady Aldgyth and her relations. Wulfnoth’s militancy inspired knowing sighs of weary familiarity.

“Oh, to hell with all of this insipid talk of kissing Edith’s arse, or those of these vile Mercian dogs, by Christ’s red thorns! That’s our blood that villain Morcar holds at death’s precipice, by God’s gray beard, and I say we enforce Aelfgyva’s liberty at once! If that faithless bitch-queen needs to have her throat cut from ear to ear, then so be it! It’ll free us from association with the God-cursed house of Leofric once and for all, so that Ealdgyth can become royal consort as she should’ve immediately and we can throw Morcar, Edwine, and that old cunt Godiva into Dover keep to rot as they deserve! If you’re afraid of the consequences attending Aldgyth’s slaughter, Hal, you needn’t. All we have to do is affix blame for the savage deed upon yonder Welshman there, the wanton royal adulteress’s jilted and enraged lover. If Roger Malet can cut Aldgyth’s throat, then why not Morgan ap Meurig’s as well? No one need know the truth but us, after all. I’ll do it myself, Harold, if it pleases you. Never let it be said Lord Wulfnoth lacked the stones to support his house, and save England, the blessed saints and angels be my witness!” Harold’s stony glare of disapproval was all the reply the King deigned yield his impetuous brother’s fool exhortation, looking to Earls Gyrth and Leofwine for sounder counsel. Lady Ealdgyth gazed at the cringing Morgan ap Meurig over her shoulder, motioning silently for him to seek redemption by rising and joining the conversation in an affirmative fashion. The Welshman complied, pallid and subdued, approaching the Godwines with trembling and humility.

“There’ll be no need to dispose of Captain Morgan, I daresay, my good husband. I believe he shall prove more than willing to admit his guilt of adultery with Aldgyth, at her behest, of course, and to his illicit siring of her royal pretender. Won’t you, sir? Coupled with Lady Gwendolyn’s testimony of having actually witnessed her mother and Morgan in flagrante delicto, I think we’ll have ample cause to pursue your swift divorcing from your current Queen, and thus eliminate all further threat of conspiracy against us by Aldgyth and her miserable house. Deposing that sordid scum Stigand from his unmerited perch as England’s Primate will go far towards ensuring gossip of the crudest sort is cut short in its circulation in wake of Aldgyth’s eclipse, and then you can be once more set at liberty to attend to England’s defense against outside adventurism.” Earl Gyrth seconded Ealdgyth’s strategic perspective, as did Earl Leofwine. Lord Wulfnoth loudly resisted his sister-in-law’s practical discretion, still favoring the obtaining of Godwine objectives by the sword against all opposition.

“I find Ealdgyth’s reasoning to be entirely correct, Hal. We ought resolve our differences by lawful means, I believe, to demonstrate beyond any dispute your legitimate royal respect for its venerable authority. The last thing we need is to be seen to act arbitrarily, as you’re still widely perceived to have done in initially seizing the throne under less than transparent circumstances.” Earl Leofwine agreed, stroking his long dark beard as he articulated full support for Earl Gyrth’s contention. Lady Ealdgyth smiled with somewhat smug satisfaction at their brotherly consensus, earning an irked glare from King Harold.

“I have to stand with Gyrth and Ealdgyth in this instance, Harold. Your early recklessness in taking the crown by force without clear and unequivocal blessing by King Edward supplied grist for the maneuvering of our enemies here and abroad against us. I see no need to compound such error now. Let the law hang Aldgyth, as Ealdgyth maintains we’ve got the old bitch by the short hairs. I should also inform you I concur with what our wise sister Gunnhild told you, Hal. You should approach Edith and settle your differences, no matter what she demands of you to do this. A single favorable word from Edward’s trusted consort could mean the difference between your personal salvation and England’s bloody Armageddon, brother. You’ve your duty to this realm to consider, remember, first and foremost.” Lord Wulfnoth interjected with intense indignation, pointing to the continuing stalemate still ensuing owed to the captivity of Aldgyth and Aelfgyva. King Harold glanced at Roger Malet and Earl Morcar still holding each other at bay through the menacing of their hostages and took a deep breath, frowning.

“In case you’ve forgotten, your Majesty, our sister still endures the indignity of Earl Morcar’s dagger being held to her throat, by the Blessed Virgin’s sacred tears! Are you planning to rescue Lady Aelfgyva today, Harold, or must our kinswoman grow old waiting on the royal intercession of England’s alleged master?” King Harold reddened at Wulnoth’s sharp jab, then turned to face Roger Malet and his Mercian kin with sovereign severity, commanding the instantaneous release of the Queen and his sister. Roger Malet and Earl Morcar hesitated, but Harold uncompromising mien persuaded the sullen adversaries to reluctant obedience.

“You men! Release your hostages, now! I’ll not instruct you a second time, Roger, Morcar.”

Lady Aelfgyva rushed weeping into the arms of her mother, as Queen Aldgyth rubbed her neck, appalled to find her fingers stained with scarlet. The sight of such minor bleeding provoked the offended and unforgiving Queen to a vow of terrible retribution ere she departed with her house from the presence of her hated husband and his equally detested family.

“You’ll pay for this, you conniving stinking house of filth, every last one of you if it takes all eternity, by Christ’s sacred crimson! By the time I’m finished with you and your wretched crew, Harold Godwinesson, you’ll all be upon bended knees begging my merciful indulgence that will not prove forthcoming, I promise you! And as for you, Gwendolyn, as I have warned vengeance will be mine against all who dare betray and defame me! I’d remember that, Morgan ap Meurig, if I valued my ballocks! Brothers, Grandmother, attend me! I find the stench of this venue more than I can abide!” As Queen Aldgyth and her family stormed from the Great Hall the frightened Morgan implored King Harold’s protection, offering Queen Aldgyth’s condemnation for his own sparing. Harold regarded him with amused contempt, spitting at the craven Welshman’s feet.

“Your Majesty, I beseech you, defend me against that evil wench’s cruel wiles and I’ll testify as you require, with your gracious pardon, I pray. You know the Lady Aldgyth, sire, she’s quite forceful in plying one’s accomplice to her desire, truly, I’d no intention of lying with her but she forced me to her pleasure, I swear before Almighty God I never would’ve bedded and gotten her with child if Aldgyth hadn’t - Ah!” Harold smote Morgan a powerful blow to the jaw, knocking him dazed to the floor. The King then instructed William and Roger Malet to remove Aldgyth’s lover to confinement, and told Osbeorn of Aldbourne to escort Lady Gytha, Lady Aelfgyva, and Lady Gunnhild to their quarters.

“Take that Welsh scoundrel away, and keep him under close guard until I’ve a proper use for him. Then, William Malet, you and Roger see to it the Queen’s bodyguard is dissolved until my further notice. Osbeorn, take my kinswomen to their rooms, please. Mother, my sisters, you’re to remain here as my guests for the time being. Mother, I’ll need to speak to you later regarding the truth of my conception, and share with you the details of a troubling vision I experienced at Corfe castle.” Lady Gytha made to respond, her expression abruptly apprehensive, but Harold waved her away. Lady Aelfgyva embraced Harold, wishing him well.

“Harold, I … I just wanted to wish you God’s blessing, and perhaps some peace of mind, if heaven wills. I know you’ve great burdens to shoulder and I want you to know on behalf of us all that we’re behind you, brother. Truly. And I’m so sorry that my foolishness caused all this trouble today.” Harold smiled, kissing and hugging Aelfgyva warmly. The King’s mood then changed as he turned to question Princess Gwendolyn and confront Lady Ealdgyth.

“I take it Lady Ealdgyth assured you wouldn’t need wed the Emperor Henry in exchange for your testimony against your mother, Gwen. True?” Princess Gwendolyn blushed, embarrassed but nodding. King Harold reflected and issued a startling edict.

“Very well. I hereby release you from your hitherto pledged betrothal. You will reside as my good brother Earl Gyrth’s ward until further notice. As of this instant, it will be the privilege and responsibility of my daughter Gytha the Younger to secure our alliance with the Emperor Henry through wedlock in their hour of greatest need. You, Swan, are to escort our daughter to Aachen yourself, and remain there until summoned home at my command. Do not even attempt to argue, Madam. As I told you when I wed Lady Aldgyth, the price of sovereignty is steep, and alas non-negotiable. You all have your orders. Good day.” As Harold turned and strode from the Hall an irate Ealdgyth glared after him, determined to prevent her beloved child from becoming another pawn caught in the expanding web of her father’s royal ambition. Looking forlornly but with a sense of unshakeable resolution at Belgifu and her brothers-in-law, Lady Ealdgyth walked over to a table and picked up a half-empty cup, raising it in a sardonic mock-toast to her husband.

“The price of sovereignty indeed. Well, we’ll just have to see what can be done to influence the sum cost of an accursed and inconvenient crown’s keeping. God save the king.” The others nodded and shrugged with considerable uncertainty at Ealdgyth’s resentful gesture, Earls Gyrth and Leofwine conversing in low tones as Belgifu contemplated her mistress with wary curiosity.

Ealdgyth winked, grinning, a sure sign of some cunning design already hatching within the vast expanses of her seasoned intellect’s fertile environment.

CHAPTER SIX