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CHAPTER SEVEN - CONSEQUENCES OF INDISCRETION

(Witham, England, May 5, 1066)

Seated within the Great Hall of Lord Hereward of Lincolnshire’s manor Godeleva of Ghent waited upon the arrival of her hostess Lady Torfrida, once a close intimate of Duchess Matilda in the days before Torfrida had wed Hereward and become a proper Englishwoman, as Matilda was prone to remark in jest. Sipping wine and enjoying a steaming bowl of broth served by a young slave of Torfrida’s with a distinctly Celtic complexion, Godeleva mulled what she would say to Torfrida, well aware she must tread a most delicate line between courteous petition and strident imposition in her exchange with the proud and to all appearances respectable noblewoman.

Hereward’s Hall was almost as spacious as that of Caen, seating by Godeleva’s estimate one hundred and twenty, give or take. The Hall was constructed of both wood and stone, featuring large and beautiful stained-glass windows along its sides through which the warm day’s bright sunlight streamed. Vivid embroideries of silk and wool hung upon its walls and from the high ceiling timbers, the Hall’s thatched roof being gilt in gold. Pelts of manifold beasts decorated the chamber along with an exquisite collection of iron and wood carvings painted in gold and silver. Also on display were several fine pieces of hand-crafted jewelry, Godeleva’s appreciative gaze being drawn in particular to a spectacular silver torque sprinkled with polished gems, its glare of such intensity Godeleva had to look away. The hearth stood at the center of the Hall surrounded by a stone frame and upon the tables rested candles and lamps which burnt animal fat to provide illumination. Strips of vellum were attached to the bottoms of the windows to prevent the chill from winter draughts, and they were shuttered for privacy as well.

In a corner of the Hall Godeleva observed a trio of glass cases which she discerned must hold the curiosities Lady Matilda had informed her Lady Torfrida had a taste for collecting, but before Godeleva could give these further contemplation the large iron door to the Hall opened and three well-dressed women ascended the small staircase leading up to where a risen Godeleva waited to greet them. The slave-girl Aine curtsied low in the presence of Lady Torfrida and her attendants, as did Godeleva, Torfrida nodding her head in imperious fashion as her acknowledgment of such expected deference. Smiling politely, Lady Torfrida embraced and kissed Godeleva in a manner amicable but not intimate as a superior welcoming a familiar yet distant subordinate.

“Godeleva of Ghent. It’s so pleasant to see you again after so much time. What has it been now, ma cherie, six years, more or less? You look well, girl. I trust that my old friend Matilda prospers at Caen. I’d heard some disquieting whispers concerning possible difficulties she was experiencing due to this unfortunate contention between her husband and His Majesty, my dear friend King Harold. Please convey to Maud my heartfelt prayer for her well-being and defense from all evil although God knows your mistress has never suffered from any inability to prevail over such owing to the most flexible conscience this side of perdition. I daresay Satan himself would be hard-pressed to devise a sin Matilda of Flanders could not bend to her fair advantage in entertaining, no matter how foul its aspect, or aroma.” The two women with Torfrida laughed at their Lady’s unsubtle stab at Matilda, their amusement augmented by Godeleva’s evident irking at Torfrida’s willfully tactless remark. Though tempted to retort, Godeleva reined her immense resentment and addressed Lady Torfrida with calculated consideration, observing all proprieties despite an innate longstanding dislike of her smug and smirking hostess.

“As you say, Madame. My noble Lady Matilda likewise wishes me to express her deathless affection for you, along with her very best wishes for you and your family in this time of crisis. A crisis my Lady Matilda earnestly hopes you will see fit in grace and wisdom to assist her in preventing from becoming an unnecessary source of perpetual woe to both your land and ours. The honorable Duchess of Normandy has conceived of a most fair and feasible solution to the enmity that’s alas arisen of late between the house of Godwine and that of her good lord Duke William she bids me present to the Lady Ealdgyth Swanneshalles through your private embassy.

My Lady Matilda has instructed me to assure you most explicitly her strategy is one that will be maximally beneficial to both England and Normandy in its outcomes, guaranteeing the security and stability of the reigning houses of both realms by formal matrimonial union and the sharing of all present and future titles and estates among their henceforth united posterity. The Duchess extends her hands and her heart to her distinguished counterpart Lady Swanneshalles, entreating her to come to Fecamp abbey ere long to meet and discuss with Lady Matilda a rational plan for averting costly and needless conflict between this country and Normandy. Young Gytha is also invited to attend the privy conference for a purpose mother and daughter my Lady daresays will prove quite to their mutual satisfaction, and the salvation of blessed peace between our peoples. If you’ll kindly sit down, Madame, the particulars of Matilda’s design await your reception and approval, my lady. S’il vous plait, ma amis?” Lady Torfrida glanced at her two attendants with wary suspicion, receiving frigid stares of open hostility to Godeleva’s beseeching. After a brief reflection Lady Torfrida flashed a cool smile of accommodation and indicated for her women to greet Godeleva, one of them being known to her already with no great admiration.

“Laura, you remember Godeleva of Ghent. And you, Godeleva, doubtless recall my faithful lady-in-waiting, Madamoiselle Laura de Fiennes. I know the two of you were somewhat friends back in those halcyon days when Matilda and I were boon companions at Caen and in Paris, ere King Henry’s tragic death and soon thereafter my remarriage and its distancing alas conspired to so separate us.” Godeleva and Laura de Fiennes had to refrain from tart refutation of Torfrida’s claim of their alleged amity in prior days, as neither had ever been able to abide what each had held as the indefensible and intolerable conceit of the other, particularly concerning the precise nature of their respective statures. As an intimate to Duchess Matilda Godeleva had felt Laura should demonstrate greater humility in her proximity, whereas Laura de Fiennes had regarded Godeleva as an outrageously haughty and presumptuous fawner as well as Matilda’s criminal accomplice, holding Lady Torfrida to be much Matilda’s moral superior as well as the greater beauty of the pair, and therefore expecting and often insisting that Godeleva behave with less pride and authority than Godeleva usually exhibited. The two exchanged a weak handshake while casting unveiled daggers at one another with their frosted stares, Godeleva noticing her rival’s apparent weight gain with spiteful relish to Laura’s incensed indignation.

“I am pleased to see you are cutting an even larger figure here than you did in Caen, ma cher. I’d heard a steady diet of fish was good for one’s health, provided one does not make a whale of oneself in their avid consumption.” Laura de Fiennes crimsoned at Godeleva’s jibe as the young woman standing upon the opposite side of Lady Torfrida suppressed involuntary mirth at Laura’s discomfiture. Torfrida frowned at the girl who at once ceased grinning and adopted a more sober demeanor. Torfrida then introduced her maidservant to Godeleva who for some inexplicable yet compelling reason at once took a liking to the pretty Englishwoman.

“This is Lady Aelffrid, my personal maid. She’s a local girl, very sweet and dedicated to me, isn’t that so, cherie? She sometimes lacks gravity in certain settings, but I’m endeavoring to see Aelffrid becomes a proper gentlewoman. Aelffrid, this Lady Godeleva, the attendant of my old friend Matilda, the Duchess of Normandy.” Aelffrid flashed a shy but dazzling smile, curtsying to Godeleva as she shook her hand in enthusiastic greeting. Godeleva found Aelffrid charming, smiling back with sincerity to Torfrida’s guarded but discernible approval.

“My pleasure, Madame. Welcome to Witham, it’s such an honor to be present to receive you. Please don’t mind me, my lady. I’m just here to observe how a grande dame conducts herself as the noble hostess of such an esteemed guest. Oh, and please tender my warmest regards to your mistress Duchess Matilda. I’ve heard so much about her! It must truly be a privilege beyond all comparison to stand daily in the orbit of such a fine and fair gentlewoman, I’ve heard she’s more beautiful than the fabled Helen of Troy! Could such a fantastic claim be true, milady Godeleva?

Ah, how I’d love to meet her and see for myself!” Aelffrid’s natural vivacity and frankness was refreshing in Godeleva’s view, a pleasant change from dealing with more treacherous characters on Matilda’s behalf. Knowing it would greatly vex Laura de Fiennes to demonstrate favoritism towards Aelffrid in their mistress’s presence Godeleva did so with gleeful deliberation and gave the startled but grateful maidservant a lingering embrace, kissing young Aelffrid with calculated affection and lavishing the girl with praise. Laura de Fiennes bristled with scarlet envy as Lady Torfrida struggled to avoid smiling at her attendant’s jealous aggravation.

“Know, Lady Aelffrid, that it will be my great pleasure and honor to convey your felicitations to my mistress, and know further that it will please me also to inform the venerable Duchess that here in England are to be found as good and faithful companions for a proper noblewoman as we might hope to encounter anywhere in Christendom, citing your own fair example as ample proof of my report’s impressed veracity. You’re a true credit to your mistress, and this lovely country of yours, ma cher ami, and it’s my fervent prayer that from this conference peace will be crafted between our realms for all time, that we may come to know each other better in the future, for I say to you plain, young Aelffrid, in you I intuit the vein of dignity, honesty, and humility that a noble daughter of the great Alfred’s esteemed lineage was hitherto presumed to possess by my excited imagination.” Aelffrid’s face glowed with an overwhelming pride and appreciation at Godeleva’s kind commentary, her large hazel eyes shining and her heart swelling with such a tremendous rush of inflamed emotions that tears trickled down her flushed cheeks as Aelffrid bowed in acknowledgment of Godeleva’s gracious complimenting, kissing her hand as Lady Torfrida beamed with fondness and Laura de Fiennes fumed in bitter frustration. Godeleva’s brazen wink at Laura only steeped the latter in deeper resentment to Godeleva’s gloating and Laura’s livid loathing.

“I … Oh, Madame Godeleva, I don’t know how to … I mean, I don’t know quite what to say in proper reply except … thank you. Oh, thank you, Lady Godeleva, thank you, thank you with all my heart, truly!” Lady Torfrida placed a hand on Aelffrid’s right shoulder in encouragement, nodding to the exalted maid, then gestured for Godeleva to sit at the table. As the quartet seated themselves Torfrida signaled to the slave-girl Aine to inform her associates to begin serving the meal prepared in Godeleva’s honor.

“Let us sit and eat while we converse regarding Matilda’s unorthodox but intriguing proposal, shall we? Aine! Fetch Fiona, Maeve, Dairine, and Sorcha, please, and start bringing in the food. And don’t forget to bring us more wine as well!” The slave curtsied and went out, Lady Torfrida inquiring of Godeleva if the inclusion of Laura and Aelffrid in their conference presented her an impediment to complete candor. Godeleva shrugged, unflustered by the presence of Torfrida’s attendants and eager to begin the critical discussion.

"You don’t object to Laura and Aelffrid joining us in this most important tete-a-tete, Madame Godeleva, do you? It is not that I don’t trust you, mind, or Maud, but I find it a prudent measure to have certain secret conversations of serious import witnessed by reliable sources who may be later invaluable in attesting to exactly what was discussed, and how, if necessary. One can’t be too careful in what one says, or to whom and in what perhaps perceivable context, after all, can one, cherie, especially during such gravely suspicious and perilous times as these we now must weather as Almighty God wills, don’t you agree?” Godeleva glanced at Laura de Fiennes with reluctant toleration and at Aelffrid with far greater confidence, nodding her head to indicate her acceptance of Torfrida’s terms. Once again, Godeleva’s response was framed to incite Laura’s ire while better ingratiating herself with Aelffrid through a continued demonstration of sisterly regard and cordiality.

“Of course your women are welcome to attend and advise you, Madame. Aelffrid strikes me as a fair fille who holds verity in proper veneration. I’m sure her unvarnished account of matters shall if need be present any unbiased examiner with a just reckoning of what we deign to talk of here, acting as a counterbalance to any scurrilous and perhaps self-serving tales of a false nature that some others lurking hereabouts might attempt to spread out of malicious inspiration. I have no fear concerning witnesses to our conversation, Lady Torfrida. My mistress’s proposition is a relatively straightforward one, although it does require a certain degree of covert discretion to be successfully implemented. If you’re comfortable with the present company being witness to our discussion, so be it. It’s not for me to question such sentiment, for as is commonly observed the huntress knows her own hounds best and therefore how best to rein them. True, Lady Torfrida?” Godeleva’s seemingly innocuous remark induced abrupt rage in Laura de Fiennes, causing her to arise and without apparent provocation strike Godeleva hard across the face, Godeleva leaping to her feet in aroused temper and reaching for the dagger she kept sheathed at her waist. Torfrida’s countenance became a mask of mortified disbelief and indignation at Laura’s appalling behavior, but before she could intervene Aelffrid interjected with an ardent plea for amity and equanimity to prevail, holding out her hands to the incensed antagonists in earnest supplication.

“Ladies, please, for the love of Our Lord and Savior! Remember you’re Christian women, I pray you, and that you’re in the presence of English nobility as a guest and servant respectively! Don’t disgrace yourselves and our mistresses through a resort to violence’s bestial indulgence, I beg you! Madame Godeleva, I’m sure my friend and fellow attendant regrets her assault on you and shall be glad to tender you her formal apology for her rash display of bad temper, won’t you, Laura, my most dear and good sister?” Laura de Fiennes glared hatefully at Godeleva and shook her head in scornful rejection of Aelffrid’s urgent plea, pointing at Godeleva in fierce accusation and demanding her departure. Godeleva regarded Laura with equal despising, wishing she could fall upon her detested antagonist and flay Laura de Fiennes from crown to corns.

“No, by the Blessed Virgin’s holy name! This impudent wench has insulted me before Lady Torfrida most egregiously, and I will not permit this Flemish cunt’s thrusts at my dignity to pass without challenge, by Lord Christ’s sacred scarlet! Not to mention the fact she’s come here just to enmesh our mistress in some devious and doubtless despicable scheme against her fair friend Lady Ealdgyth Swanneshalles, for no purpose save to advance that Norman bitch’s own agenda, mark me! Get the hell out of Torfrida’s sight, Godeleva of Ghent, and mine, or before God my mortal wrath will fall upon you like the vengeance of heaven raining fiery destruction upon the filthy stews of Sodom and Gomorrah! Get out of here, I said, or suffer the severest penalty of proper justice for your rank pretension of false fellowship! Out, at once, you damned foul tool of covert foreign malice!” Lady Torfrida admonished Laura in a stern tone of incensed authority, a look of aghast and offended embarrassment upon her face. Godeleva deigned out of discretion to accept her hostess’s fervent regrets for Laura’s outburst, vowing inwardly she would obtain a fit revenge upon her abuser at some time in the near future.

“Madame Godeleva, I’m truly sorry for the rude conduct and feckless excoriation my servant has demonstrated and heaped upon you. You may trust you and Lady Matilda have my sincerest apologies for this unfortunate incident and my staunchest assurances it’ll never, ever be repeated again, never. Is that quite clear, Laura de Fiennes? Answer me, Madam, damn you, or it’s your own sweet arse I will have thrown out of my house forthwith!” Laura de Fiennes trembled with savage indignation at Torfrida’s harsh chastisement, but resigned herself to compliance with her mistress’s command. In a low whisper Laura admitted her error, petitioning Godeleva’s pardon in a manner suggesting the pangs of hell attended its sore solicitation.

“I … I’m sorry for my hot words, Madame, and for striking you without proper justification. I beseech your forgiveness, humbly and with sincere regret.” Godeleva contemplated her rival with contemptuous amusement, not inclined to issue a polite reply. Nodding to Lady Torfrida while winking spitefully at Laura, Godeleva sat down for the conference. Torfrida smiled and did likewise, staring coldly at Laura de Fiennes as she and Aelffrid seated themselves on either side of Torfrida, the embittered and brooding Laura refusing to look at Godeleva.

“Very good. The matter’s closed, and we shall not speak of it again, for the present anyway. The food will be arriving momentarily, Godeleva, and I’m certain it’ll prove much to your taste. So, Madame, you tell me. Why has my cher ami Matilda sent her emissary to me after six long years, when she knows well why there’s been such an extended distance between us, and I’m not referring merely to that which is measured in miles, as I’m sure you’re aware. Is what Laura said perhaps true, I wonder, has the venerable Duchess of Normandy dispatched you here to allure me into some improper entanglement against the interest of my own king and country? Does Maud believe she can just snap her fingers like so and obtain my indecent collusion on demand against a kind and noble gentlewoman who is like a cherished sister to me, one whom I and many others hold close to heart as the finest lady in all England? I warn you, Godeleva of Ghent, spew forth no dissembling lies to me or I will not hesitate to yield you to the proper authority for a rigorous examination of your motives, and Matilda’s. You will not find me the Duchess’s dupe, Madame, and I will not be drawn into underhanded conspiracy against this land, and its rightful royal liege. Do I make my quite entrenched and inalterable position completely understood to you, ma cher? Do I?” Godeleva sighed, angered by Torfrida’s bluntness but swallowing her ire for sake of her embassy’s salvation. Looking Torfrida straight in the eye and adopting a similar tone of candid disclosure Godeleva endeavored to persuade her wary hostess of Matilda’s benign objective and the absolute necessity of Torfrida’s collaboration with the Duchess to accomplish it.

“Please believe me, Madame, when I state my Lady Matilda’s interest in sending me to you is totally devoid of any ulterior motive save the timely avoidance of the terrible war we all know to be impending, unless some rational intercession is made successfully by those wise enough to be aware of how truly harmful needless conflict between our realms shall be to everyone if peace is not preserved through immediate judicious action. The traditional means of maintaining accord between estranged houses is to join together in marriage, the act of wedlock being accompanied by an equitable division of estates. This, Lady Torfrida, is all Lady Matilda now proposes, truly.

As you know Harold Godwinesson promised to accept Lady Agatha, my mistress’s most fair and devoted daughter, as his lawful consort but two short years ago. At that time Harold also swore a solemn oath of fealty to Duke William pledging formal support of the Duke’s claim to his cousin Edward’s sovereign title. Harold has since seen fit to renege upon both promises, to a potentially disastrous consequence, but Lady Matilda is prepared now to assist Harold to redeem his present precarious circumstance by effectively collaborating with Lady Ealdgyth to cancel one vow by a belated observance of the other. That is, if Harold can be swayed to recognize Agatha as his one true bride in place of Lady Aldgyth whom my mistress is aware has lately been found wanting in proper queenly virtue, the Duchess is confident her husband’s expedition against this land can be instantly and eternally thwarted ere it is even ready to embark, and in return for Lady Ealdgyth’s kind and sage cooperation, Matilda offers her daughter Gytha the Younger the hand in marriage of her dear eldest son Robert, a most splendid and worthy youth. This will in time create young Gytha not only as the future successor to Matilda as Normandy’s Duchess, but my mistress duly hopes ultimately as a glorious Queen of France as well, once Harold joins with Duke William in deposing the decrepit Capetian dynasty now festering upon the throne of suffering Paris as Lady Maud prays and anticipates His Majesty shall, when the issue of England’s succession is settled definitively without bloodshed.” Lady Torfrida registered no overt reaction to Godeleva’s terse articulation of Matilda’s cunning strategy, her expression betraying nothing by its stark sobriety. Aelffrid gasped, her hand rising to her mouth as a skeptical Laura de Fiennes archly challenged the essential practicality of Matilda’s design, implying treacherous intent behind the Duchess’s seeming magnanimity.

“Ah, this is naught but nonsensical stinking merde being spit at us by this Flemish serpent’s poisoned tongue! King Harold may well wish to divorce that Welsh whore of his, but it’ll take him considerable time and effort to do so, and he’s already made it plain he’s no interest in the Norman slut, so why would he agree to take the little harlot to his bed now when he’s wedding young Gytha to Emperor Henry to forestall invasion by the Bastard? Between our native army and the men Aachen will allot us once young Gytha’s anointed Empress we’ve no need for any assistance in averting combat, in fact, we’ll be more than ready to expel any incursion upon our soil with deadly ardor, mark me, so we don’t need to skulk about in illicit alliance with Madame Matilda to ensure England’s defense from her husband’s royal avarice! And correct me if I’m mistaken, Godeleva, but isn’t France about to become the ally of your lady’s liege through the conjugal bleeding of Agatha by the doubtless relieved young sovereign of that fortunate realm, King Philip, Matilda’s own fine cousin? I also seem to recall the inconvenient fact of Robert’s troth with Lady Emmeline, the unpleasant but alas indispensable daughter of the Bastard’s ally in south Italy, Robert Guiscard. Tell me, cherie, does Matilda plan to invite him to Robert’s vows with young Gytha, or her husband to attend Harold’s nuptials with Lady Agatha, or shall these matrimonies transpire in privies out of sight of the lords whose plans they bid subvert, perhaps? Please! Don’t try and render my mistress, Lady Ealdgyth, or English arms the instruments of Matilda’s chronic campaign of petty animus against France, for we will not be made fools by Normandy’s manipulative murderess, no more than my Lady Torfrida was before when King Henry was basely dispatched at her wedding feast without my mistress’s knowledge or assent, you conniving cunt! Get out, my lady Torfrida’s not interested in collusion with your damned Norman putain! Isn’t this so, Madame?” Lady Torfrida frowned, neither affirming nor denying Laura’s heated decree. Godeleva held her breath momentarily, uncertain of Torfrida’s response, but then Aelffrid deigned speak in a cautious but assertive voice in support of entertaining Lady Matilda’s unexpected evidencing of possible genuine concert. Godeleva couldn’t help smiling at the young Englishwoman’s second perhaps unintended but quite effective upstaging of Laura de Fiennes, the latter seething at her associate’s modest yet marked contradiction.

“With all respect to my noble associate, my lady, I think it behooves you to at least consider the offer of Duchess Matilda, given the paucity of practical alternatives for avoiding war which I believe we can all agree should be averted if at all possible. Speaking for myself, with brothers in the elite royal Huscarls and a sister wed to a Norman gentleman she truly loves with children of mixed blood, I don’t want conflict that would inflict unspeakable pain and sorrow upon those whose lives and fortunes are innocent of culpability for it and devoid of any stake except that of simple survival in dignity, happiness, and prosperity such as a war between our lands will surely threaten with perhaps irreparable damage, and for what, pray? I say, if marriage joining Harold’s house with Matilda’s presents us with a real feasible opportunity to prevent bloodshed and it can be encompassed, then by all means, let it be pursued. His Majesty does require a fresh consort, I remind you, and so why not choose a comely young lady of distinguished blood and from what I have heard pristine virtue to supplant one who’s steeped the English crown in the most odious of scandals? I realize it might not be my place to say this, Madame, but unless Harold marries Lady Ealdgyth as he apparently for undisclosed reasons isn’t inclined to do, then I feel he ought do the proper thing by our country and select a bride whose elevation offers England its best chance for maintaining its liberty from outside aggression. Begging your pardon for my frank opinion, my lady, but I truly held it had to be said.” Lady Torfrida was about to respond to Aelffrid’s insight when Aine and other Celtic slaves of Torfrida’s household entered the Hall bearing the food their mistress had ordered prepared in anticipation of Godeleva’s entertaining. Setting the trays before Torfrida and her fellow diners the slaves Godeleva noticed all regarded her with the same glaring hostility, fixing the Norman envoy with stony looks of undisguised disdain. Godeleva flushed at being the recipient of such intensely unabashed enmity, fingering her blade out of an involuntary instinct of anxious self-assurance.

“I hope you enjoy the meal, Godeleva. I of course would serve you nothing but the best, you understand. Oui, ma cher?” Godeleva nodded, smiling, inspecting what was set before her with avid interest. Laura de Fiennes viewed her food with an equal relish but a insinuating look from Aelffrid caused Laura to ruefully rein her appetite.

“I daresay I shall, Madame, thank you. You’ve certainly extended me a more than fair feast to partake of. Griddled trout with herbs, a jellie of fyshe, preserved crab-apples sweetened with honey, crustade of chicken and pigeon, fenkel in soppes, some curd cheese pastries, roasted hare with herbs and barley, and small bird and bacon stew with hazelnuts and fresh salad! None may say that the Lady Torfrida doesn’t know how to fete her honored and I assure you grateful guest, Madame! If you persist in providing me such sumptuous fare I may just have to tarry hereabout despite the pressing nature of emergency, God as my witness! If you have some mead or apple-wine to wash all these exquisite delicacies down, my lady, I’d be much obliged.” Lady Torfrida gestured to Aine who shot Godeleva a hard stare of pent resentment ere she poured a cup for the unwelcome visitor, Godeleva attempting to make eye contact with the sullen slave but failing as Aine swift stepped away, looking into the distance as if oblivious to Godeleva’s presence. Lady Torfrida raised her cup in a toast of amicable salute, a harbinger Godeleva hoped of successful conclusion to her critical embassy.

“To old friends far away but never forgotten, and to a lasting concord between all Christian lands and lieges. God will it be so.” The four women clinked their cups warmly and began to eat, Godeleva waiting for Lady Torfrida to tender an answer to Lady Matilda’s request for her cooperation in approaching Ealdgyth Swanneshalles. When Torfrida spoke however it wasn’t to yield the affirmative reaction Godeleva expected.

“Tell me, Godeleva. What was Maud planning to do in the event I deigned refuse her polite solicitation, pray? I presume based upon long intimacy with the Duchess she had some scheme in mind to enforce my bending to her will, did she not? Something to do with my first husband and his sudden tragic mortality, I’m sure, oui, Madame? Or has Matilda a mind to menace my children still in residence within her reach, perhaps? What’s the matter, Godeleva? You look like something’s caught your tongue, ma cher. And I daresay, wench, that insolent implement may soon feel the pang of a sharp instrument’s piercing unless you reveal the evil your damned mistress plots against me, and this kingdom! Aine! Maeve! Seize this brazen agent of treason and hold her fast! Dairine! You may inform His Majesty’s servant, our bon ami FitzWymara, to join us! Fiona, Sorcha! Go and prepare the special chamber awaiting this deplorable wench’s dire lodging! We’ll pry the entire truth of Matilda’s vile design from her anguished lips soon enough, by Christ and His blessed saints!” Godeleva was abruptly gripped hard by Torfrida’s slaves, one of whom removed the dagger from the sheath at Godeleva’s waist to press it tight against her throat with an eager anticipation. As Aelffrid gaped in utter incredulity and Laura de Fiennes grinned with fiendish delight at the hostile action of their mistress Torfrida gestured to the slaves holding a startled and shaking Godeleva to escort the captive over to the glass cases Godeleva had observed upon entering the Hall. Peering within these Godeleva spied a diverse collection of artifacts whose significance Lady Torfrida explained with pedantic pride.

“During my sundry travels it’s pleased me to amass a fair variety of interesting relics which bear connection to the Holy Scriptures. For example, you see that large stone there crimsoned on one side? That’s the very rock employed by Cain to dispatch his brother Abel, thus bringing the sin of murder into the world. And there, that knotted old piece of hemp? That is the noose Judas Iscariot used to hang himself with after betraying Our Lord. As I said, interesting, isn’t it? However, the item I’d most wanted to draw your attention to, cherie, is right there. See? Look closer, why don’t you?” The slaves thrust Godeleva’s face directly against the glass, enforcing her gaze upon what appeared to be some thin discolored strips of dried gristle, their sight filling Godeleva with an ominous queasiness. This sense of nauseating dread was augmented by the sinister revelation Torfrida offered concerning their grisly nature.

“Do you know what those are, Godeleva? They’re the entrails of the notorious Jezebel, all that was left of that infamous pagan bitch after the dogs were through feasting upon her fetid corpse! I’m going to send them to Matilda I think, with a firm but polite rejection of her late proposition. I’ll send you home as well ere long, never fear, though I’m afraid your traveling will alas prove somewhat piecemeal. You know, cherie, I remember Matilda always used to say how the consequences of indiscretion outweighed the very judgment of heaven upon mortal sin. Well, you and your Lady have shown yourselves to be woefully indiscreet in your presumption of my acquiescence to your little conspiracy, wench, as you shall learn to your utmost agonizing regret at length, ma fu fille! Ah, Robert! Come in, ma cher ami, and meet the emissary of Lady Matilda of Normandy! My old friend Maud’s sent Godeleva all the way from Caen, in effort to coerce my assistance in some wicked cunning against this realm and our esteemed King Harold, and that’s why I arranged to have you here to ensure she received fair housing at Dover keep as her mission merits! That is, after I’ve had a chance to extract some additional details regarding the Duchess’s nefarious plot from this conniving cunt, with your permission of course, my lord.”

A tall lean man, handsomely dressed with a gleaming silver badge affixed to his expensive silk tunic and a satin sapphire sash draped across his torso, entered the Great Hall with a sauntering air of aggressive authority, his dark hair hanging to his shoulders beneath a cocked woolen cap and his beard neatly trimmed in the meticulous manner of a delicate dandy. The cold glint of Robert FitzWymara’s narrow grey eyes, which fixed upon Godeleva with the feral cruelty an arch-predator views a helpless prey with served to banish any false perception of him as some mincing English fop, as did the malign mirthless baring of his gleaming white teeth in a smile of pure merciless satisfaction at the ashen trembling attendant’s grave predicament. FitzWymara bowed low to Godeleva in derisive deference ere he embraced and kissed the Lady Torfrida in genial appreciation of her capturing of a dangerous foreign enemy.

“Bien fait, Madame, merci, manifique! This apprehension of Lady Matilda’s tool of covert treachery’s attempted encompassment shall stand you well with His Majesty, and the English people as a whole, my lady! When it becomes known how you faithfully chose to alert King Harold through myself of your fellow Fleming’s ignoble design to subvert your proper fealty to your adopted land and royal liege, and without hesitation assisted in the timely arresting of the Norman Duchess’s instrument of alluring the rewards and praises lavished upon you and Lord Hereward should exceed all modest speculation, considering this outstanding service you have rendered to the crown and England our adopted homeland this day, ma cher belle compatriote!

Whenever it pleases you, I shall take custody of the prisoner and convey her to Dover keep for most rigorous confinement and examination, I assure you. I take it you wish to ply the wench for report yourself ere I receive her for further interrogation, Madame? By all means, so long as I’m allowed to observe, purely for reasons of propriety as an officer of His Majesty, you understand. Just make sure your slaves remain within their limits in attending to Madame Godeleva’s yield of candid confession, s’il vous plait. His Majesty will want the bitch alive, at least for a while.”

Lady Torfrida nodded, contemplating Godeleva with terrible contempt. Godeleva endeavored to persuade Torfrida not to dishonor and anger Matilda by resorting to such gross violation of noble etiquette, but Torfrida proved deaf to her entreating.

“Madame, Madame Torfrida, I beseech you! Do not risk provoking my mistress’s retaliation in kind for any imposition of unwarranted abuse upon me, I warn you! This is a serious mistake you’re making, mark me, Lady Matilda won’t let such an outrageous trespass against the laws of hospitality go unpunished, there’ll be true hell to pay for this affront to the Duchess’s dignity and mine, have no doubt of it! Lady Aelffrid! In the name of Our Blessed Savior, please, help me, I implore you, don’t just stand by and allow me to become the hapless victim of your fool mistress in her blind malicious injustice, please, Madam, I’m begging you!” Aelffrid started to reply, but a stern glance from Torfrida stifled the intimidated young woman, causing her to retreat with her eyes sadly averted from Godeleva’s perilous plight. Robert FitzWymara seized Godeleva’s face between his hands and thrust his own forward, his saliva splashing Godeleva as he menaced her with savage gloating.

“Shut your mouth, cunt, or by God’s great ballocks I’ll stop its spew with my rod’s stiff ram, you Flemish harlot! I’ve waited long to have you at my mercy, Madame, ever since those days in Caen when you constantly strove to impede my noble efforts to rise in the Duke’s favor, and Matilda’s, ultimately proving successful at the last but thankfully to my far greater fortune. As the King’s Eye, my stature at the court of the late King Edward and now Harold Godwinesson yields me precisely the sort of liberty in exercising my prerogatives that best pleases me, and I have profited well by this succession crisis which renders so many foreign residents a lucrative source of anxious extortion and information. I daresay your custody should earn considerable return both in coin and in the King’s good confidence, especially when you have been made to admit Matilda’s criminal intent against His Majesty and Madame Swanneshalles, among other manifold misdeeds. I must say, I never would’ve thought Lady Maud would be stupid enough to attempt to approach Lady Torfrida as a potential accomplice, given the rift between them caused by Matilda’s tactless and unforgivable poisoning of King Henry and Count Geoffrey of Anjou at the feast following Torfrida’s wedding to Lord Hereward despite an express warning against any potentially imperiling action. And your Lady seems to have forgotten as well the friendship that existed between Torfrida and Lady Biota, God rest her poor damned soul.” Lady Torfrida came forward and slapped Godeleva hard across the face in quick succession, her countenance furious and her voice quavering with indignation as she denounced Matilda, wagging her finger in rage at Godeleva as she ranted. Laura de Fiennes relished the scene as did Torfrida’s slaves, Aelffrid alone regretting Godeleva’s abrupt and extreme danger.

“God-cursed presumptuous little she-wolf, who the hell does Matilda think she is to send you here in a base secret effort to extort me into betraying my adopted country to serve her villainous agenda’s advancement? Matilda always did underestimate my intelligence, damn her to hell, as much as she failed to duly reckon with my strained capacity for stomaching her incessant deadly intrigues against everyone perceived standing in the way of her petty desire’s vengeful pursuing!

Maud thinks of herself as someone terribly wronged in her youth, when in fact her trouble was a consequence of her own promiscuous indiscretion! She deems it her own unassailable privilege to behave with a total spoiled impunity in the accomplishing of her own selfish and self-serving ends, and to hell with the dreadful damage inflicted upon others in the process, the vicious bitch! As a result of what Maud did at my wedding banquet and our hitherto close friendship as fellow Flemings I fell under immediate suspicion as poison’s willful facilitator, and was almost subject to open accusation and arrest! If I had not left for England with my husband my repute’s severe injury and the endless whispers of my alleged accomplice of Matilda’s nefarious act would have made life unbearable for me at home, and my children abroad often confide to me that awkward discomfort they experience whenever that incident’s speculative examination is raised in casual conversation! All the wariness that I’ve had to overcome from my English peers, all the malign innuendoes aimed at me implying my presence here to be part of some dastardly foreign design I cast blame for at the Duchess of Normandy’s door, and by the Blessed Virgin’s holy tears I say it’s time for a proper accounting! And indeed, I’ve not forgotten how Maud dispatched my old friend and hers, Countess Biota, with such inhuman heartlessness! Blood must have blood and the shedding of yours, Godeleva, is but the mere trickling which precedes the predestined flood, by Christ’s crimson thorns!” Godeleva withstood the wrath of Lady Torfrida without flinching, confronting her and Robert FitzWymara with commendable courage. Shaking her head as she issued a terse tart response Godeleva accepted her fate with resigned fortitude, resolving to be a credit to her mistress even in the shadow of certain and slow death.

“I truly pity you, Madame, as much for your consistent festering envy of my Lady Matilda as for your present pathetic folly in permitting yourself and your household to be rendered pawns in the preening schemes of this half-Breton lout whom both Duke William and Matilda came to see as the degenerate and dissembling rogue of malignant manipulation he was and is, banishing him at length from Normandy’s noble precinct to ply his putrid wares elsewhere, God curse him to an everlasting torment in perdition’s foul maw! Do to me what you will, Lady. You’ll gain nothing from my pain and death but further ignominious infamy, and prove yourself beyond dispute as a murderess no less wanton and wicked in her wretched and wrongful evil’s encompassing as you hold my good mistress to be. And be advised, Madame, that the Duchess of Normandy will not let my mortal fate pass without formidable recriminations. Your abject moral hypocrisy will be exposed before the world, Torfrida, all Christendom including your precious children shall soon recoil in shock and horror when your role as solicitor of your first husband’s dispatch is made a scandal to be savored at length by high and low gossip alike, Lady, and the righteous vengeance of your deceased spouse’s powerful family falls upon you like the ten plagues of ancient Egypt! You should remember, grande dame, there are many Normans hereabout who would gladly cut a throat at behest of the reigning domina of their still-cherished homeland, and you can’t throw all of them into Dover keep, can you? And there are many Flemings who’ll despise you with equal intensity as a vile betrayer of your own native soil and flesh as well for your abominable display this day, my unforgiving relations foremost among them. Chew on that and sleep well, Torfrida, accursed sister of Judas, treacherous tongue-maiden to flaccid English cocks! Va te faire foutre, vieille fee!” Lady Torfrida erupted in a snarling fit of ferocious anger at Godeleva’s bold retort, smacking her repeatedly and punching her in the stomach. As Godeleva sank to her knees with a winded gasp Lady Torfrida ordered her slaves to begin abusing the captive, Aelffrid and Robert FitzWymara interceding against such appalling mistreatment for vastly different reasons.

“Insolent cunt! You shall pay for your rash disrespect, wench, I promise you! Aine, Maeve, hold this tart fast! Dairine! Take the dagger from Maeve and cut off the ring finger of Maud’s dear friend, I want to send it back to the Duchess with a personal message of regard! And cut her face as well, so she gets a taste of the hell I have in store for her!” Aelffrid threw herself at Torfrida’s feet, her hands clenched in fervent petition for mercy. Robert FitzWymara likewise counseled discretion, though purely for pragmatic purpose.

“Good mistress, please, I beseech you! Don’t stain your hands irreparably with the blood of one who entered your house as an honored guest, guaranteed of safety as a foreign ambassador, don’t dishonor yourself and your noble lord Hereward, in the name of Lord Jesus who forgave the world its sins, Madame, merci, s’il vous plait!” Torfrida was inclined to dismiss Aelffrid’s ardent supplication, her heart still pounding with scarlet outrage against Godeleva and Matilda. Laura de Fiennes urged Torfrida to press Godeleva’s tormenting, but Robert FitzWymara took Torfrida aside to advise her self-control, reminding the agitated noblewoman of King Harold’s requirement Godeleva not be excessively damaged.

“Go on, my lady! Have at the arrogant slut! Make a most terrible example of her for Matilda and the world to contemplate in awful rumination! Render her a ghastly horror for her mistress’s mournful haunting! Go on, Madame! Let these loyal slaves attend to Godeleva’s earned torture, make her suffer worse than the damned whose infernal ranks this preening bitch shall soon join!” Robert FitzWymara frowned, his tone uncompromising as he admonished Lady Torfrida against indulging her animus upon Godeleva too severely. Torfrida sighed, reluctantly acquiescing.

“I realize your blood’s running a bit hot just now, Madame, but I must again remind you that King Harold needs the wench in relatively fair condition, at least for the time being, so she may be induced to give testimony against Matilda that will be found publicly plausible. Once Maud has been discredited along with her bastard spouse I can arrange for His Majesty to return Lady Godeleva to your tender clutches for her final lingering disposition. For now, I can permit you to inflict only so much anguish upon the prisoner, alas, though you’ll be satisfied I daresay with the somewhat flexible limits of excruciation that I’m authorized to allow your fair fellow Fleming to endure. Comprenez, ma cherie?” Lady Torfrida nodded, then kissed FitzWymara fiercely, their mouths remaining locked in passionate ardor for several torrid minutes. Aelffrid, who had prior suspected Torfrida of adultery but prayed her intuition was erroneous, looked away in disgusted remorse at her mistress’s shameless flirtation with her lover in the presence of both servants and slaves, muttering the apt observation of Lady Matilda earlier quoted by Torfrida in premonition of its eventual expensive application to Torfrida’s own person.

“The consequences of indiscretion can outweigh the judgment of heaven upon mortal sin as the Duchess of Normandy once keenly noted. Ah, Mistress Torfrida, I fear you may have sore cause to recall your former friend’s rueful wisdom, ere long, should a report of your disgraceful infidelity with this villainous half-Breton reach the ears of Lord Hereward as I’m afraid it must, sometime, your husband being not such a fool as you’ve presumed, alas. God help us all, Lady, and you more than any.” Torfrida flushed at Aelffrid’s stinging remark, and slapped her across the face in offended chastisement. Aelffrid started in bitter resentment but held her tongue and temper, recognizing to risk any further arguing with her mistress could result in her sharing the miserable fate of Godeleva.

“That’s enough out of you, ungrateful miscreant! If you no longer care to remain in employ here, young lady, then get out. Otherwise, Aelffrid, you’re dismissed. Go to your room and do not emerge until I send for you. It appears you require a rather stern lesson in how to act like a proper servant, wench. Go, or I’ll scourge you with my own hands. Go, I said!” Aelffrid said nothing, drawing a deep breath as she curtsied to Torfrida, her irrevocably mind made up as to how she must proceed. As Aelffrid departed the Hall her eyes met Godeleva’s and she nodded in apologetic empathy, receiving Godeleva’s wan smile of gratitude for her consideration. In wake of Aelffrid’s withdrawal Lady Torfrida ordered Godeleva removed as well, issuing directive she be subjected to moderate indignities until further notice.

“Aine, Maeve, Dairine, take the prisoner to our special chamber for inquisition, but take care not to impose excessive agony upon her just yet. You may of course amuse yourselves with the cunt, but nothing too unbearable, hear? As my lord Robert has decreed, His Majesty wants this wench in a shape to speak credibly against Matilda, and we can’t have her dragging a form too badly disfigured into open court, can we?” The slaves grinned in cruel anticipation and pushed Godeleva towards the Hall exit, laughing in sinister humor as they went out. Torfrida turned to Robert FitzWymara and the courtier caressed her with an unabashed lusting as Laura de Fiennes applauded her mistress’s tactics and offered Torfrida her enthusiastic approval for the way she’d entrapped Godeleva and disciplined Aelffrid. Torfrida bowed, smiling, as Robert FitzWymara’s hands fondled her bosom, arousing Torfrida’s formidable physical appetites.

“Manifique, Madame, truly outstanding, ah, you truly put that little English bitch in her place, and that look upon Godeleva’s face when she realized the fatal gravity of her mistress’s misstep in sending her to you was a thing of joy to behold! I only wish you’d confided your plan to me so I could’ve perhaps been of more service to you in its execution, my lady, and that you’d let me know my good Lord FitzWymara would be a party to its excellent encompassing, Madame! After all, I’m usually privy to my lord Robert’s arrival, since it’s his customary pleasure that I join you in intimacy’s sultry exercise, oui? I take it I’m expected to fulfill such function now, assuming you and Lord FitzWymara intend to spend some time together ere you oversee that cunt Godeleva’s vigorous panging?” Torfrida and Robert FitzWymara exchanged a familiar glance, which Laura interpreted as an affirmative response. To Laura’s surprise and dismay, however, Lady Torfrida imposed a different task upon her that left Laura apprehensive at its potentially imperiling nature.

“No, ma cherie, we won’t be requiring your participation in our latest tryst. I’ve intended to grant you leave for a visit home to Normandy to see your family for a while, Laura. Now is the perfect time for you to go, I believe. I want you to convey a message to Lady Matilda from me, along with a special token of my esteem. You might wish to prepare for an extended stay, as I am certain Matilda will be at pains to provide you with an accommodation commensurate with your status as my trusted and cherished attendant just as I afforded Godeleva a similar courtesy.

You’ll leave imminently, Laura, and may God speed and protect you, ma cher soeur. Farewell, and good fortune go with you.” Laura de Fiennes paled at the prospect of confronting Matilda as Lady Torfrida’s calculated bearer of evil report concerning Godeleva’s treacherous confinement, and started to protest such endangering assignment. Robert FitzWymara responded with a terse reprimand for the frightened attendant to yield Lady Torfrida her unquestioning obedience upon pain of garnering her instant terminal displeasure. Laura gulped, perspiring profusely.

“My lady! I … Do you think it truly prudent for me to travel to Caen just now in light of how you’ve dealt with Godeleva, I mean … You know as well as I how Matilda dotes upon Godeleva and if she should take word of her attendant’s misfortune badly, as I daresay she shall, Matilda’s anger toward me as your innocent herald could prove most, ah … unhealthy, Madame, to say the least. Perhaps you’d care to reconsider your decision, Lady, as I’m certain you’ll be needing me hereabouts for a variety of purposes such as – Ah!“ Robert FitzWymara grasped Laura hard by the arm, causing her to cry out in intense fear and pain. Laura looked to Torfrida for succor but found nothing but mortal indifference staring coldly back at her.

“You’ll do exactly as your mistress instructs you, wench, without a single word of dissent or defiance, or else you’ll join that Flemish cunt in suffering the cruel effects of the fruit of agony upon her harlot orifices! Do I make myself terribly clear, Laura de Fiennes? Now get out, you cringing slattern, I would speak with Lady Torfrida alone! Out, damn you, now!” Laura raced from the Hall, weeping, convinced doom awaited her in Matilda’s merciless clutches. Torfrida smiled callously as FitzWymara inquired amusedly regarding Laura’s likely fate.

“So, do you think Matilda shall indeed dispose of Laura as your chastened attendant seems to believe? It surprises me a little you could cast Laura unto the whims of fickle fortune with such ease, my lady, considering the slut’s past faithful service. I know we’ve discussed how to be rid of Madame de Fiennes lately since the avaricious bitch began insinuating she’d require a greater compensation in exchange for remaining silent concerning your sundry sins, but still, to dispatch her to bear the inevitable brunt of Matilda’s wrath for Godeleva’s unfortunate reversal strikes me as somewhat overly harsh, perhaps, don’t you think, ma cherie?” Lady Torfrida shrugged at the implication, motioning for FitzWymara to join her in sitting down to enjoy the feast prepared in Godeleva’s honor. Sipping wine, Torfrida dismissed Laura’s danger in wantonly casual fashion, evincing no more regret for her attendant than for an insect crushed thoughtlessly underfoot.

“What would you have had me do, Robert, poison that presumptuous cunt in my own house? This way renders it far easier, don’t you agree? With Matilda as the instrument of poor Laura’s tragic vengeful demise I’ll be an object of sympathy, and of course I’ll deny Godeleva appeared at my door to begin with, a convenient lie your formal report shall affirm by its statement of the fact that Godeleva’s mission to visit me was preempted by intelligence of said embassy, yielded you by none other than my own trusted maidservant, our most loyal Englishwoman Aelffrid. If Aelffrid refuses to go along you may simply charge her as being a spy in Matilda’s employ who intended to enlist me in Matilda’s malign plot against Lady Ealdgyth by facilitating Godeleva’s access to me. Godeleva by that time will be inclined to declare fire’s wet and Aelffrid knows it, and as much of a patriot as my maidservant is the penalty for treason shall sway her to practical acquiescence. In due time, we’ll get rid of her as well, after we’ve taught the fool girl her place courtesy of your magnificent staff’s extended acquaintance. Think of Aelffrid’s arse as a token of my fairest esteem, my lord, but don’t let that lovely length of yours grow too fond of it, oui?”

Robert FitzWymara laughed in a lewd rapacious anticipation of Aelffrid’s vicious ravishment, raising his cup to touch Torfrida’s in wicked gratitude for her carnal largesse. Torfrida winked with lascivious humor, her cruel eagerness to watch her insolent servant’s impending ordeal as great and depraved as FitzWymara’s debauched famishing.

Directly above the Great Hall an embittered Aelffrid listened to the heartless converse of her mistress and Torfrida’s bestial lover by means of a discreet aperture carved into the floor of the maidservant’s bedchamber, Aelffrid rising from her obscured observance of the calculating pair with an expression of resolute decision upon her face. Going to a nearby iron trunk she opened it with a key and removed a tome bound in black satin with the words Journal intime de Matilda de la Flandre, Duchesse de Normandie emblazoned upon its cover.

Caressing the critical volume with a rueful satisfaction Aelffrid gathered a few precious and necessary belongings, and then exited her room with utmost caution, proceeding with slow due vigilance down to the lower level of the manor’s structure where Torfrida had installed a private dungeon alongside a special quarter for decadent adulterous indulgence. A winding passage led to a distant door concealing a secret escape path created to allow flight from the manor in event of a sudden attack or disaster blocking a more direct exit, and with melancholy sadness Aelffrid unlatched it, loathe to leave a house she’d known some happiness in serving. Aelffrid’s pausing was disturbed by the stifled screams of torment she heard echoing faintly but chillingly from the dungeon, and the combination of terror and moral determination thrust the young Englishwoman out to seek shelter from Lady Ealdgyth and if possible avert war as Matilda’s offer promised.

CHAPTER EIGHT