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CHAPTER EIGHT – THE DIGNITY OF FLIGHT

(Bosham, England, May 14, 1066)

Brooding on recent events in her mind as she attended to her youngest niece Gundrada’s bath at her sister-in-law Lady Ealdgyth’s request, Lady Aelfgyva sighed in melancholy anxiety at the manifold difficulties facing her family, owing to her brother King Harold’s seizure of the throne. Aelfgyva had hoped a crisis over the late King Edward’s succession would somehow be avoided, leaving her free to wed her beloved Roger Malet without impediment or fear of controversy, but Aelfgyva’s hopes had suffered a serious blow at Easter in wake of the bitter and violent arguing between Harold and Queen Aldgyth, leaving the apprehensive young noblewoman to exist in a condition of constant dread concerning the certain evil consequences of the royal estrangement. Kneeling by the large wooden tub to pour more heated water within it Aelfgyva tried to banish her gnawing tension as not to spur the curiosity of four year old Gundrada, smiling at the child as she splashed about giggling and waving to Beowulf, the large brown hound doted on by the girl and the rest of Ealdgyth’s children resting languidly next to the tub.

“We’re almost done here, little one. Then you may go play with Beowulf until your mother and Belgifu return from the market. Stop splashing, please, ‘Drada! If you don’t, I’ll just have to splash back, you mischievous imp!” Gundrada laughed as she and Aelfgyva pushed the hot water at one another in a playful fashion, her large blue eyes sparkling with the childish joy of pure innocence. Lifting Gundrada out of the tub Aelfgyva then dried the girl with a towel and began assisting the child to dress. When Gundrada was fully garbed she thrust her arms about Aelfgyva’s neck and gave her favorite aunt a wet sloppy kiss on the right cheek that heartened Aelfgyva immeasurably, bringing tears of warm gratitude to the troubled young woman’s eyes. Aelfgyva kissed Gundrada softly upon the forehead and stroked the child’s long brown-blonde hair, impatient for that blessed hour when she and Roger Malet begat precious progeny of their own to cherish.

“I love you, Aunt’Gyva! Thank you for bathing me. Will Mother be coming home soon? I want to ask her a question.” Aelfgyva smiled and then leaned down to rub noses with her niece, kissing Gundrada’s in affection to the little girl’s grinning delight. Aelfgyva inquired regarding the nature of Gundrada’s interest, assuming she could answer it as well as Ealdgyth.

“A question, ma cher petite? Perhaps I may be of assistance, yes? What is it you wish to be told, ‘Drada?” The response to her solicitation startled Aelfgyva, instantly steeping her anew in intense panging fear concerning the fortune of her family and country, and the cost of war upon the most vulnerable of England and Normandy such as Gundrada. Gundrada could see she had upset Aelfgyva and immediately sought to redress her innocent query’s impact through earnest apology, Aelfgyva responding at once to soothe her unwitting niece.

“Aunt ‘Gyva, what’s a bastard? I’m not one, am I? Is Father? I heard Aunt Gunnhild and Mother talking a while ago, and Mother was saying that Father’s new wife Lady Aldgyth had accused him and Aunt Edith of being bastards, and that she regarded me and my brothers and sisters as being bastards as well. I’m not a bastard, Aunt Aelfgyva, am I? It sounds like a bad thing to be, so it’s not true about me and Father being such, is it? Is it, Aunt ‘Gyva? I’m sorry if I‘ve made you angry by asking, but I truly want to know. You’ll forgive me for asking, won’t you?” Without hesitation Aelfgyva grasped Gundrada in a firm but gentle manner and gazed within the child’s trusting eyes, speaking in a serious yet sensitive tone to address Gundrada’s concern. Gundrada reached up to hug Aelfgyva, who clung to her as though hanging from the edge of perdition by her fingernails.

“No, cherie, you’re most assuredly not a bastard and neither is anyone else in our esteemed house, I swear upon my eternal soul. You’re the proud legitimate and most lovely daughter of the King of England and his true consort, your wise and noble mother, and don’t you ever have any doubts regarding your rightful nature and most honorable station in this world, my fair child, hear? For your information, Gundrada, your father’s current unworthy bride is of tainted quality herself, and seeks to smear the name of your sire and our distinguished lineage through a wanton dissemination of base lies and slander to divert proper scrutiny of her own considerable disrepute that even Aldgyth’s own daughter has seen fit to denounce. Whatever you might hear or think, I tell you now, little one, you are a Godwine born and bred, and a royal princess of this realm now, just as I am and all our good kinswomen too. So please don’t fret about misunderstood things of no veracity to begin with you’ve managed to overhear without having a matured comprehension to discern their utter falsity. There are no bastards in our house, Gundrada, only the spirit of our glorious ancestors abiding within the hearts of each of us, brave, true, and worthy of reverencing by all heaven and earth alike. Comprenez, ma petite Madamoiselle?” Gundrada beamed proudly at Aelfgyva’s ardent reassurance, kissing Aelfgyva profusely as more tears flowed from the eyes of the necessarily misleading young woman. Aelfgyva’s heart was heavy with the burden of the convenient fable but she forced herself to smile at Gundrada, and nod in fond encouragement as she dismissed her niece to frolic with Beowulf while Aelfgyva sought out her sister Gunnhild to admonish her against careless discussion within Gundrada’s earshot.

Aelfgyva found Gunnhild sitting in the sewing room of the manor, at work threading a fresh tapestry for its decoration. The chamber was large and abounded with the sundry materials and implements of embroidery, a favored pastime of the Godwine women. The walls of the sewing room were adorned by the colorful creations of the talented Lady Ealdgyth and her kinswomen, most of which depicted Biblical, historical, and mythological episodes. Gunnhild, wearing her work-dress of plain brown cloth, looked up at Aelfgyva’s entrance, the irritated expression upon her sister’s face informing her of Aelfgyva’s scolding purpose.

“I can see you’re vexed about something, ‘Gyva. What’s the matter, did our little niece hurl water in your face, spoiling your carefully applied cosmetic?” Aelfgyva flushed at Gunnhild’s implication of vanity, wagging a finger at her as she instructed her elder sister against reckless conversation in Gundrada’s proximity. Gunnhild sighed, rolling her eyes at Aelfgyva’s angry indignation to Aelfgyva’s increased incense.

“Don’t you get tart with me, Gunnhild! Would you like to know what Gundrada just asked me, sister? Our four-year-old niece inquired as to what it meant to be called a bastard, and if it was true she was one! Gundrada told me the reason for her curiosity stemmed from something she overheard you and Ealdgyth discussing doubtless in heated fashion! For the love of Christ, Gunnhild, can’t you be a little more circumspect in how you speak when Gundrada’s about, it would spare me the awkwardness of answering such questions with unavoidable lies to a child who shouldn’t have ever needed to pose them! Is that too much to ask of you, ma cher soeur?” Gunnhild nodded in annoyed agreement, irked at Aelfgyva’s presumption in lecturing her like she was the senior sibling. Gesturing for Aelfgyva to sit at the worktable beside her Gunnhild offered Aelfgyva assurance of her future discretion while reminding her not to favor French as her language over their native tongue.

“I’m sorry, Aelfgyva. You’re correct, of course, and I’ll exercise more caution in speaking about family matters when I know Gundrada may be listening. I’ll mention it to Ealdgyth also. She’s quite concerned her children don’t suffer the effect of self-doubt incited by such vicious rumor’s bandying. I know that it is not gracious of me to say this, as a bride of Christ, but I pray to God that bitch Aldgyth incurs the full wrath of Divine justice for her sins, not least of which is her malign sullying of our family’s fair name through that dreadful bile she’s been spewing since the Easter feast about Mother. As if Aldgyth’s anything to boast about concerning her house and its lurid history! Everyone knows her brothers are wretched blackguards! Morcar rapes and robs Northumbria with insatiable impunity while Edwine is despised throughout Mercia as a weakling of perverted taste and an intellect which would need match a moron’s to be considered merely as feeble, by the Blessed Virgin’s sacred veil! And we won’t even mention what a miserable miser old Earl Leofric was, so much that Lady Godiva had to harlot herself to pay for the construction of Coventry’s cathedral! Not that she minded doing so, having been well-versed in promiscuity since her days as a successive bed-spread to Canute and his degenerate offspring as her spouse’s carnal promoter! And how can we forget Earl Alfgar, found expired in a cheap tavern alongside a sodomite whore of the most odious notoriety? Ah, such rank hypocrisy bids fair to make me scream aloud unto heaven in outraged frustration at its brazen gall in casting aspersion upon us when scandal abounds equally and indeed even more so within Aldgyth’s own soiled bloodline! Oh, and by the way, ‘Gyva. I remind you gently as Harold will not. You ought refrain from the use of French to express yourself. Speak English, ma cherie, at least until you are married, or it shall reflect badly on your upbringing as a proud and patriotic noblewoman of royal connection, as our good brother would stern reproach you.” Aelfgyva frowned, making an obscene gesture of youthful defiance to Gunnhild’s amusement. Aelfgyva then inquired as to what Gunnhild’s latest information was concerning the charges advanced by Aldgyth and their veracity.

“So, have you heard from Bishop Wulfstan about what passed between Mother and Harold in wake of the events at Winchester, sister? Is it true that Mother has actually admitted to adultery with Prince Alfred, resulting in the illegitimate conceptions of Hal and Edith, has she? Tell me, Gunnhild! And has there been any word yet received confirming the presence of Count Andor at Rome to assert the claim of Edgar Aetheling as King Edward’s legitimate successor? If His Holiness should hear such a purported argument with favor, Gunnhild, what think you will any such unexpected decree’s impact prove upon the current sovereign contention between Harold and Normandy? Will it prove sufficient perhaps to avert war, or only stoke belligerency’s fire with fresh fuel?” Gunnhild shrugged, contemplating the complicated and distasteful situation with rueful uncertainty. In a resigned tone of deep sadness Gunnhild then informed Aelfgyva of the worst regarding their family’s ongoing internal and political crisis.

“Well, ‘Gyva, if you’ve heard a report of it from Roger Malet as I presume, you know what ensued between Hal and Lady Gytha. I feel so sorry for Mother, as much as I did for Ealdgyth when our fool brother disgraced and discarded her for no good reason save blind folly, and his rash effort to redress its damaging results. I needn’t tell you about the strains experienced by our good mother during her unhappy matrimony with Father. Even at your tender age, Aelfgyva, you can recall what an absolute villain Earl Godwine was, towards all of us save Sweyn, his chosen favorite who matched him evil for evil. I can’t say I condone what Mother did so far as her bedding with Prince Alfred, but I can at least understand it and empathize with her plight. If she’d only sported with him without consequence that would’ve been a relatively minor scandal to overcome, at this distance. Alas, with Harold having become king through illicit means, any serious and sustainable questioning of his legitimacy not only as England’s sovereign but as the rightful bearer of the Godwine name and its estate presents him, and all of us with a most terrible dilemma to confront, and at the worst possible instant. Personally I don’t hold any person’s birth against them, having seen for myself on too many occasions how often so-called bastards surpass their well-born betters in display of Christian and assumed noble virtues and I’d defend the claim of any duly decent individual to derive and enjoy the proper public and private respect their good character earns. That said, I grant you the stigma of bastardy once attached can prove impossible to overcome, and I’d certainly not wish its onerous burden imposed upon those I love such as the children of Ealdgyth by our brother. You know as well as I do how Father deprived Harold of a proper wedding in the Church with Ealdgyth, and for the most unsavory and bigoted of motives. So far as I’m concerned Ealdgyth’s Harold’s sole true wife and mother of his recognized family, and there’s an end to it, but of course his political enemies and the Church see things differently, damn the God-cursed dissembling lot of them! If Andor shows up in Rome with a testament in King Edward’s name declaring Edgar Aetheling his acknowledged heir it’ll likely only serve to aggravate tensions with Normandy rather than alleviate them, I’m afraid. It seems Hal shall be forced to retain Aldgyth in her undeserved royal station, and that young Gytha will need marry Emperor Henry despite her registered objection to the betrothal, and Ealdgyth’s. Otherwise, it could prove a political disaster of irreparable consequence for our brother, and for all England.” Aelfgyva darkened at Gunnhild’s gloomy assessment, afraid for her own future happiness and desperate to play some pivotal part in altering the dire circumstances and prospects before her. Gunnhild intuited Aelfgyva’s distress and attempted its wanly optimistic alleviation.

“Don’t look so glum, ‘Gyva. After all, I could be wrong, God knows. It may be Aldgyth’s campaign against our house proves in vain, especially if young Gwendolyn testifies concerning her mother’s adultery with her Welsh minion. And if the fabled luck of our family asserts any influence over events Aldgyth could miscarry of her bastard whelp and perish of the traumatic effects inherent in such an ordeal. I wouldn’t doubt such a thought has occurred to Hal or that under present circumstances he might be inclined to arrange such a mortal tragedy’s expedient encompassment.” Aelfgyva started at Gunnhild’s callous supposition, appalled by the idea of Aldgyth’s outright murder along with that of her unborn child, and yet to her inner shame also encouraged by such a drastic measure’s possible enactment. Out of morbid curiosity Aelfgyva solicited Gunnhild’s perspective regarding the outcome of any successful dispatch of Aldgyth, and posited her own suggestion as to how Harold and the Godwine family might be assisted by her and Gunnhild’s direct efforts.

“My God, Gunnhild, please don’t talk like that, even about a wretched slattern like Aldgyth! Remember she’s a fellow Christian and her unborn bears no responsibility for the manner of its conception, certainly none that calls for premature death. Just for speculation’s sake, however, if Harold were to dispose of Aldgyth, what do think would happen next? You know, sister, I have a notion of what you and I might do to help press matters to a rational and favorable conclusion. If we were to visit Edith at Dover and promise to submit her terms for resolving her differences with Harold to him in a manner urging of their acceptance I believe we’d stand more than a fair chance of persuading Edith to reconcile with our brother. Don’t you agree? And if we were to go to Canterbury and assure Archbishop Stigand of our likewise ardent private advocacy of his retention as Primate of England I’m sure Stigand would prove very eager to ally himself with our house once again. It couldn’t hurt us to at least try, could it? Could it, I asked you?” Aelfgyva’s proposal met with skepticism from Gunnhild, who shook her head in condescending dismissal of Aelfgyva’s naivete. Aelfgyva frowned as Gunnhild proceeded to disdain her considered strategy without due examination of its virtues as her elder sister was so often want to do.

“First of all, ‘Gyva, I was only engaging in idle musing when I implied Hal might seek Lady Aldgyth’s removal through criminal means, nothing more. As much as Harold wants to be free of the house of Leofric, however, I don’t truly believe he’ll stoop to murder to obtain his liberty. It wouldn’t be prudent you understand, and Hal simply cannot risk another scandal arising from Aldgyth’s suspicious death along with her bastard. I think he’ll prefer to undertake legal means to effect his separation from his current Queen, and employ Gwendolyn as his chief instrument to turn Aldgyth’s defamation of him against her. Second, if Harold does divorce Aldgyth he’ll require a replacement to seat beside him upon the throne but since he’s resistant to the available candidates for one reason or another, it renders deposing Aldgyth much more problematic since Harold can’t very well reign without an immediate promise of succession, if he wishes to avoid worsening England’s political predicament in the fashion of his royal predecessor. That’s why I doubt Hal will prove able to successfully sever ties with Aldgyth, for I’ve no doubt Aldgyth will wage an exhaustive and ruthless combat to maintain her sovereign station as events have already demonstrated. So far as visiting Edith to attempt action as reconciliation’s arbiters, don’t forget, ‘Gyva. Edith’s under a heavy guard and receives no one, not even Mother, under our vindictive brother’s stubborn order. Not to mention the fact that she is equally resolved in her defiance of Harold and wouldn’t therefore likely be disposed to hearing our argument upon behalf of peace the merits of forgiveness any more than has Hal himself. As for approaching Stigand, I’ll leave that courageous if futile act for a stomach stronger than mine, thank you.” Aelfgyva was about to dispute Gunnhild’s contentions when the bell outside the door sounded, announcing a visitor to Bosham manor. Biting her tongue, Aelfgyva arose to respond to the summons, expecting to greet Lady Ealdgyth and Belgifu. As Aelfgyva approached the door, she saw a young woman several years her junior rushing down the long spiral stairway from the upper floors to answer the clanging call with an expression of taut anticipation.

“That must be Mother and Belgifu returning from the market! Oh, Aunt Aelfgyva, I’ve just had an inspiration as to how I can avoid being betrothed to Emperor Henry! Let them in please so I can broach my notion with Mother, hurry!” Aelfgyva flashed a weak smile at young Gytha as not to instantly dash her desperate hope, but when she opened the door Aelfgyva and Gytha’s faces fell as the party beyond was revealed to be a stranger by all appearances, garbed in a plain fashion with features occulted by a closely drawn hood. The stranger moved to enter the house in a nervous rush but Aelfgyva blocked such a maneuver, demanding identification.

“Halt! Where the hell do you think you’re going? We’re not in the habit of permitting just anyone to enter our home, identify yourself please, or be gone at once!” The stranger stopped and drew back the hood to reveal a pleasing countenance clouded by fear and animated by the compulsion of emergency’s goad. Recognizing Aelffrid with a gasp of surprise Aelfgyva and young Gytha then embraced and welcomed her, inquiring about the reasons for the attendant’s curious conduct in disguising herself to pay call on them.

“Why, it’s Aelffrid, of all people! Welcome, girl, and come in, it’s been some time, hasn’t it? What brings you to us, my dear, pray, and why are you going about as if afraid of discovery? Is something wrong with your mistress, Aelffrid, or is there perhaps some concern of your own we can assist you with? Come sit down, and tell us all about whatever vexes you.” Young Gytha’s felicitation echoed Aelfgyva’s as she hugged Aelffrid and exhorted her to make herself at home, Aelffrid smiling and nodding in relieved gratitude as she was guided toward the sewing room to receive a startled Gunnhild’s warmest greeting. The Godwine women shared a pensive look of abrupt unease at Aelffrid’s unscheduled appearance as they extended their guest all due amiable hospitality, offering Aelffrid refreshment as she sat to converse.

“Yes, by all means, Aelffrid, come and make yourself comfortable. Gunnhild’s sewing and we expect Ealdgyth and Belgifu to return from the market momentarily. Please, sit. Can I get you some wine?” Gunnhild rose with a surprised expression to exchange embraces and kisses with Aelffrid, holding her by the hands as she expressed pleasure at such unexpected visitation. Aelffrid curtsied in polite appreciation of Gunnhild’s kind sentiments and sat upon a stool near the sewing table, Aelfgyva sitting beside Gunnhild facing their guest at the table while Gytha’s seat after bringing Aelffrid a cup of cold cider was a bench opposite the open window upon the other side of the table.

“Well, this is a most pleasant surprise, dear Aelffrid! It’s been ages since I last beheld you, or so it seems! You are as lovely as ever, I see, and in good health as I hope and pray your mistress is! How fares Lady Torfrida at Witham? Is there something you or your fine Lady require from us, just ask and we’ll be glad to accommodate you, truly!” After a moment’s hesitation Aelffrid removed Lady Matilda’s diary from the right pocket of her gown and placed it upon the table for proper inspection by her hostesses. Young Gytha arose to peer close at the testament as did her intrigued sisters, all three Godwine women discerning the critical value of what Aelffrid had so suddenly and inexplicably deigned to present them. Gazing at Aelffrid with suspicion Gunnhild demanded to know why Lady Torfrida’s attendant had seen fit to unveil the private property of Matilda for their benefit and how Aelffrid had come by a possession of the Norman Duchess’s most intimate scripture to begin with.

“I gather you’ll not mind if I ask you, Aelffrid, how it is you have custody of our kinswoman Matilda’s personal testament and the reason you choose to reveal its possession to us now. You do have a most compelling reason for bringing this tome to our attention?” Aelffrid nodded and lowered her voice, as if fearful of being overheard. The focus upon her explanation was rapt as the young maid reported the recent events at Lady Torfrida’s manner in brief but succinct detail to the scandalized fascination of her audience.

“Indeed I do, Lady Gunnhild. I suppose first I ought start with how I came to possess Lady Matilda’s personal diary. Last year, when King Harold permitted his brother Earl Tosti’s exile, Lady Judith came to my mistress’s manor seeking urgent conference with Torfrida and bearing this testament for her safeguarding. Torfrida wasn’t available to meet with Judith and so on an impatient whim Judith entrusted me to place the diary in my mistress’s hands, only saying that in event of difficulty at her sister Matilda’s court she would send my mistress instruction regarding the testament’s disposition. I … I know I should’ve handed over the diary to Lady Torfrida, but some instinct prevented me and so I … I kept my possession of it secret, sensing that my action might empower me at some future date to perhaps influence events for the better as conscience dictated. You see, Lady Torfrida, she’s … well, let’s just say my confidence in her is not what it was, and thus I felt it would be rather reckless to impart her an excess capacity to impact matters, considering the stakes involved for all of us, here and abroad. This sentiment was confirmed by my mistress’s late actions pertaining to a certain Godeleva of Ghent who came to speak with her not long ago and whose terrible fate is the consequence of the most rash and despicable betrayal of hospitality by Lady Torfrida, in collaboration with that half-Breton rogue Robert FitzWymara. The two of them are … how should I say this? They’re … oh hell, they’re adulterous lovers, I regret to report, and Torfrida allowed FitzWymara to arrest Godeleva after the latter advanced a secret proposal from Lady Matilda to Lady Ealdgyth for resolving the succession crisis without violence. Lady Torfrida, she … she allowed her slaves to … to torture Godeleva cruelly before FitzWymara removed her to Dover for confinement and further interrogation. I couldn’t remain at Witham any longer I realized and I had to do something, so … here I am. I quite humbly and earnestly petition all of you for your counsels and protection, please. I don’t know where else to turn, truly.” Aelfgyva placed a hand on Aelffrid’s right shoulder in encouragement as Gunnhild opened the testament and began to peruse its contents. Young Gytha contemplated her sister in anxious curiosity concerning the diary’s secrets.

“What does it say, Gunnhild? I’ve heard much about Lady Matilda, how she’s the true power behind her husband’s reign in Normandy. I can only imagine what sort of sins she must have so embraced to establish and maintain such formidable authority. I know that Aunt Judith’s always spoken of her with great wariness and no small dread on many occasions. I hear they refer to the Duchess as “Charlemagne in corset,” among other less flattering sobriquets. So, what does Lady Matilda have to hide, Gunnhild, tell us, we’re all dying to know!” Gunnhild ignored her younger sister’s salacious inquiry, studying the diary closely in sober concentration. Aelfgyva questioned Aelffrid about Torfrida’s relationship with Robert FitzWymara, Godeleva’s condition, and Lady Matilda’s terms for covert collusion with Lady Ealdgyth.

“Tell us, Aelffrid, about the tryst between Torfrida and Robert FitzWymara. How long has it been going on, and who else knows about it? I know Ealdgyth will be shocked and saddened by news of Torfrida’s betrayal of Lord Hereward, she was remarking only recently how she thought their marriage was flourishing. So much for happy appearances, I guess. And concerning Lady Godeleva, was she … I mean, she was taken from Witham alive, I assume, as Torfrida wouldn’t have proven so foolish or FitzWymara either to make a corpse of Lady Matilda’s personal envoy, correct? And what specifically were Matilda’s conditions for an alliance with our sister Ealdgyth to forestall violence in the matter of the succession’s ultimate decision, pray? Does Matilda have knowledge concerning the recent allegation of Edgar Aetheling’s claim being advanced to Rome against those of Harold and her husband? If so, what is her response to its implied complication of the succession issue?” Aelffrid yielded answers in a plain forthright fashion, ashamed of her mistress’s extramarital intriguing and eager to redeem Torfrida indirectly by utilizing her privy information and possession of Matilda’s testament to secure peace without bloodshed. Young Gytha kept an ear cocked to the conversation between Aelfgyva and Aelffrid as she awaited a reply from Gunnhild regarding the sum nature of Lady Matilda’s recorded trespasses.

“Alas, Madam, Lady Torfrida has been sporting with Robert FitzWymara since shortly after Valentine’s Day, when they flirted with one another most outrageously during a feast given by my mistress at Witham. Lord Hereward’s been rather preoccupied of late with his own private business, and with state affairs upon King Harold’s behalf, having been charged as you know to negotiate the troth between young Lady Gytha and Emperor Henry. I guess my Lady Torfrida’s been feeling somewhat abandoned and neglected of late, and there have been … other intimate difficulties between her and Lord Hereward upon those few occasions when they’ve been alone together if you understand my meaning. Anyway, Torfrida began bedding Robert FitzWymara in March, and though Lord Hereward remains mercifully ignorant of the affair all of Torfrida’s slaves know about it, as does my associate Laura de Fiennes. In fact, Laura, she … well, Laura is more than just an accomplice to Torfrida’s adultery. She’s more like an … active partner, if you perceive my most delicate interpretation of her role in facilitating Lady Torfrida’s pleasure. It’s truly appalling, Lady Aelfgyva, and much to my sore embarrassment to have to report, but that’s the truth of it, sordid as it is. I can only speculate as you have that Godeleva would have remained alive for transport to Dover. FitzWymara seemed keen to have her remain fit for his further interrogation, and King Harold’s. They … I heard her screams as I was leaving Lady Torfrida;s manor, it was so terrible, I almost … As for the particulars of Lady Matilda’s privy proposal, they concerned the union of your house and hers by marriage. Edgar Aetheling was never mentioned by Godeleva, but given the effort Aldgyth has put into spreading word about the boy’s claim in order to bolster her own tenuous hold upon royal estate I wouldn’t doubt it that Matilda probably is aware of the problem and is prepared to deal with it in the direct and efficient fashion reputed unto her. I’m afraid that’s all I can state with any certainty, Madam.” Aelfgyva darkened, frowning as she digested Aelffrid’s intelligence. Gunnhild passed Lady Matilda’s diary to young Gytha for examination as she mused regarding the significance of the testament and the likelihood of Duchess Matilda being cognizant of the charges of illegitimacy lately raised against her royal brother and sister.

“Well, there’s certainly enough chronicled within those pages to satisfy prurient interest for at least a century, I’d reckon. Lady Matilda’s left nothing out, detailing her misdeeds from youth to more recent sins, and the tale is neither pretty nor pardonable. What’s worse, however, is what’s laid at Harold’s feet. Matilda accuses him of raping her, and implies he’s the true father of Duke William’s namesake son. That explains her motivations for seeking to entrap him two years ago, somewhat, but the more important fact we must contend with is that this diary cannot be allowed to become public, under any circumstance. With Harold’s authority already compromised by the controversial manner of its acquisition and the whispers of his illegitimacy and Rome’s potential recognition of a rival for sovereignty being circulated by that grasping Welsh bitch, our brother’s reign might well be overthrown outright by an additional scandal’s eruption, particularly one like this that arouses empathy for a ruined woman even as it fatally eclipses her. You’ve stated it was Lady Judith who gave you this testament, Aelffrid, but I wonder if it wasn’t at Matilda’s cunning direction that her sister has yielded its custody. I’ll wager Matilda learned of Harold and Edith’s alleged illegitimacy from Stigand, that scurrilous scum, well before Lady Aldgyth, and then she planned this apparent “gift” as her latest tactic to undermine our royal kinsman even at the great risk of her own reputation and station. I’d put nothing past Matilda, based on my brief but quite telling prior experience of her, and at any rate it would break Ealdgyth’s noble heart beyond all repair to learn of Harold’s awful carnal crime, I daresay, truly. Therefore, it’s my view that the testament be destroyed immediately as a precaution against playing into the Duchess’s hands by attempting its doubtless anticipated use against her and our own brother by inevitable extension.”

Aelfgyva said nothing in response to Gunnhild’s suggestion, having paled quite noticeably at the revelation concerning Harold’s ravishment of Matilda. As Aelffrid contemplated the seemingly stricken noblewoman with wary curiosity, young Gytha denounced the charge as false, refusing to believe her beloved sire capable of such outrageous conduct.

“It’s a God-cursed lie, damn that perjuring Norman wench to everlasting hellfire! Father’s no rapist, for the love of bleeding Jesus, he is not, I tell you! This, this simply cannot be true, can it Aunt Gunnhild? It’s not true, by the Blessed Virgin’s sublime chastity, Aunt Aelfgyva, is it, is it? No! It, it can’t be, it just can’t be so that my father, this realm’s crowned and anointed sovereign could’ve committed such a dastardly, despicable … Oh, please, my good kinswomen, please tell me such a gross and evil accusation is entirely unfounded, as it must be, by Christ and His saints, please, please, Aunt Gunnhild, Aunt Aelfgyva, tell me! Tell me this terrible thing cannot be true, in the name of heaven’s sweet mercy of salvation! Tell me the charge of Matilda’s a damned lie, please, please, tell me!” Aelfgyva lowered her head, her green complexion now implying illness, and Gunnhild shook her head, not wishing to credit Matilda’s report but in her heart fearing King Harold indeed capable of committing such sordid folly despite its most tremendous repercussions and afraid of what would ensue should word of Harold’s alleged act become known to the instant opprobrium of all Christendom, factual or not. At that moment, motion and agitated voices were heard outside the manor as Lady Ealdgyth and Belgifu entered the house, engaged in heated and anxious argument. The Godwine women gasped at perceiving both bore minor injuries from an apparent assault of some kind, the gowns of Lady Ealdgyth and Belgifu rent and crimsoned and the former sporting a bandage around her right hand and cuts and scrapes on her face and throat.

Belgifu boasted dressings upon both hands and another wrapped around her left shoulder seeping scarlet. The returning wounded were assailed with aghast and concerned queries regarding their hurts, Aelffrid experiencing sudden insight as to who might be liable for the attack upon the pair in such a brazen and doubtless desperate fashion.

“Ealdgyth, Belgifu! What in God’s name has befallen you? Why do you bear such injuries from a brief and ordinary outing? Come and sit down, please, and tell us about what happened, sisters! Gytha! Fetch your mother and Belgifu some wine, girl, at once!” Young Gytha ran to obey Gunnhild’s command as Ealdgyth and Belgifu sat at the sewing room table with their two kinswomen, Aelffrid standing by with a pensive expression, awaiting her opportunity to speak.

Young Gytha rushed back to set a pair of cups before Ealdgyth and Belgifu, pouring wine and inquiring about what had occurred in a frightened tone of urgency.

“Christ’s blood, Mother! What happened? Who’d be so bold and foolish to attack you and Belgifu in broad daylight, and here in Bosham, pray? Who did it, Mother? I’ll wager Aldgyth is responsible for this, that conniving Welsh harlot, why, I have a mind to go stab her and see how Her Majesty likes it, by heaven’s golden gates!” Lady Ealdgyth shook her head as she gulped down some wine, Belgifu emulating her mistress with somber mien. Aelffrid then interjected to advance identification of the assailant, instantly earning a surprised and suspicious Ealdgyth’s intrigue and interrogation.

“With respect to your fair daughter, my lady, I gather young Lady Gytha is in error regarding her presumption of the Queen’s culpability for your and Belgifu’s wounding, correct? Would it be false of me to impart responsibility for this wicked action upon Laura de Fiennes, my former associate in the employ of Lady Torfrida, Madam?” Ealdgyth and Belgifu exchanged a glance of startled curiosity, Ealdgyth gazing at Aelffrid with stern intensity. Belgifu arose and confronted Aelffrid, demanding to know how she knew the perpetrator of the assault and whether she’d had any foreknowledge of it.

“How would you know it was that preening Norman bitch that attempted to murder me and my good mistress, wench, unless you’re part of the same wretched plot to encompass our cruel deaths by such wanton public effort, answer me, God damn you to writhing perdition at Satan’s heels, you devious little cunt! You’ll talk, Aelffrid, by Christ and His saints, if I have to string you up by your teats to wring truth from your perfidious lips, treacherous slut! Speak, or you will know suffering as the doomed of hell only shiver to conjure within their worst nightmares, mark me! Speak, girl! Who put Laura de Fiennes up to assaulting Lady Ealdgyth and me and what was your role to be in the conspiracy against us? Why are you even here, girl, to act as a secondary instrument of base slaughter in event the primary tool of Cain’s evil failed in its vile task, is that it? By Christ’s sacred scarlet I’ll cut your worthless flesh into thin strips and roast them in the hearth for supper!” Aelfgyva leapt to intervene between Belgifu and the paled and shaken Aelffrid, bringing the attention of the two injured women to the testament of Aelffrid’s presentation. Gunnhild frowned and young Gytha blushed at Aelfgyva’s focusing of attention upon Lady Matilda’s diary, fearful of its scandalous content’s impact.

“Belgifu, stop! You’re wrong, it was not Lady Aldgyth who wished you and Ealdgyth dead, was it, Aelffrid? The abrupt and inexplicable attack by Laura de Fiennes is linked to late events transpiring at Witham manor, is it not? Go on, Aelffrid. Tell Ealdgyth and Belgifu about Lady Torfrida being visited by Lady Matilda’s attendant and what befell the latter thanks to collusion between your mistress and that nefarious villain Robert FitzWymara. Tell them what Matilda is offering Ealdgyth regarding their proposed private collaboration to forestall war between us and Normandy. And also show them the personal property of the Duchess our sister Judith gave you that supplies us a critical insight into Matilda’s mind, as well as specific evidence of her criminal trespasses. Go on, girl. Tell them! Now!” Lady Ealdgyth displayed immediate keen interest in a possible partnership between herself and her clever Norman kinswoman, exhorting Aelffrid to provide details concerning Lady Matilda’s terms for a covert alliance. Motioning for Aelffrid to sit next to her Ealdgyth bid the trembling young maidservant to unburden herself with frankness, smiling to reassure the anxious girl of her complete safety.

“Well, Aelffrid? You have something you wish to say to me, girl? I am here, and listening. Go on then. I’m quite eager to hear what doubtless well-crafted design of ingenious inspiration my good sister Matilda has to advance towards the prevention of needless violence between our realms, truly. Speak, please. What would the Duchess of Normandy have of me to encompass such a blessed miracle of political reconciliation, pray?”

“I, ah … Well. I suppose I should start at the beginning, yes? To be plainly to the point, my Lady Ealdgyth, my being here is a direct consequence of a secret visit paid to my mistress your dear friend Lady Torfrida last week by one Godeleva of Ghent, the personal attendant of Lady Matilda, Duchess of Normandy. This Godeleva came to us conveying a proposal that Matilda wished Torfrida to present for your most considered examination in hopes of sealing a private understanding with you regarding the conclusion of the current succession contention without resort to bloodshed. It involved your being willing to step aside so that Matilda’s daughter the Lady Agatha could fulfill her prior marriage contract with your husband King Harold for sake of peace, a courtesy Matilda was inclined to reward by facilitating young Gytha’s betrothal with her eldest son Robert, the Duke of Normandy’s heir and Matilda’s candidate for the throne of France ere long with the assistance of English arms. The Duchess extended both you and young Gytha a formal invitation to Normandy to discuss her proposition under formal guarantee of protection. I advocated my mistress’s careful contemplation of the notion, but Lady Torfrida to my shameful dismay demonstrated herself as being much less of a Christian gentlewoman than I had hitherto held her to be. She had her slaves abuse and torture Godeleva after having arranged to yield her to the custody of Robert FitzWymara for confinement at Dover. I should inform you that Lady Torfrida has been engaged in adulterous commerce with FitzWymara as I’ve just learned to my everlasting sorrow with all Torfrida’s slaves and Laura de Fiennes aware of and assisting their illicit trysting. Regarding Madame de Fiennes, I overheard Torfrida assign Laura to undertake an embassy to Caen, a mission my colleague doubtless held a deliberate condemnation to God knows what terrible fate at Matilda’s unforgiving hands. Laura must’ve panicked and throwing caution and self-concern to the wind, decided to dare assail you in hope of being arrested so she might seek official protection in exchange for testimony against Torfrida regarding Godeleva’s ill-treatment, and for her illicit relations with Robert FitzWymara. My mistress, she … Torfrida I realized also intended harm to me as well, thus prompting me to flee for my life, clutching the sole instrument of negotiation for my future security that I possessed. It’s the personal diary of Duchess Matilda, my lady, and I must warn you, Madam Ealdgyth, it contains confidences that shall … quite unsettle you, alas.” Lady Ealdgyth flushed at Aelffrid’s implication and gestured to young Gytha to hand her the testament for inspection. Gytha cast a tenuous look at Gunnhild and Aelfgyva, the former sighing and giving her reluctant leave while the latter only shuddered visibly, turning away as if deeply disturbed at the prospect of Ealdgyth perusing Lady Matilda’s journal of secret sins. It was evident from Ealdgyth’s fast-crimsoning expression that Aelffrid’s admonition was justified.

“Listen, Swan, you shouldn’t … I mean, it could well be that Matilda’s lying, I remember the visit in question well, and I don’t recollect the Duchess and Harold ever having any opportunity for such an episode as Matilda describes to have transpired, truly, it … You shouldn’t take what Matilda’s written there to heart, Ealdgyth, after all, these are the same words which would have us so believe the Duchess of Normandy a multiple murderess, a prospect I view as being rather dubious. In my opinion this testament is a fraud, no doubt scripted by Lady Judith or a minion of hers to be used as a lever of influence against her sister in a time of personal crisis as Judith now faces. I wouldn’t put it past Judith to contrive such perjury for her own purposes any more than I would that knave Stigand regarding the alleged testimony of Avis de Parisienne. Don’t let such self-serving efforts upon the parts of your husband’s enemies sway you to lose faith in my good brother’s abiding love for you, please, sister!” Gunnhild’s passionate entreaty was met by bitter silence from Lady Ealdgyth, who brushed the welling tears from her eyes as her wounded heart burned with aching resentment, betrayal, and despair. Setting the diary aside Ealdgyth gazed at Aelfgyva, who would not meet her eyes’ raw cold penetration, and in a quiet hollow tone asked her sister-in-law if she had anything to offer in rebuttal to Gunnhild’s ardent claim.

“Well, ‘Gyva?” I noticed your distinct and acute discomfort as I read this miserable tome’s chronicle of sordid private vice. And contrary to our kinswoman Gunnhild’s memory, I recall how during Matilda’s sojourn among us nine years ago there was indeed a period when Maud and Harold spent some time alone, and within this very house. Or I should say they were almost alone, as I seem to recollect you were present as well, weren’t you? You’d taken to Matilda and she to you, correct, and when I was called away to render some medical assistance to a friend in childbirth and the rest of the family moved to Winchester in preparation for the feast planned to honor Edward the Exile’s impending arrival, you chose to stay behind here in Bosham so Maud and you could be the first to greet Edward Aetheling along with Harold as King Edward wished. Yes, it was only the three of you here for a few days, wasn’t it? So, it stands to reason you have direct knowledge of what if anything ensued between my husband and the Duchess, young lady. Don’t you, Aelfgyva? Don’t you, I asked?” Aelfgyva bowed her head, her shoulders heaving as she began to weep with fear and shame. Ealdgyth arose and embraced her, Aelfgyva clinging to her cherished elder kinswoman as she admitted awareness of the partial truth in what Matilda’s scandalous diary maintained.

“Oh, Swan, I … If only you knew how often I have longed to tell you what I saw, if only you knew how I’ve wrestled with my conscience, and cursed myself as a moral coward for not being strong and bold enough to report the dastardly ruse perpetrated upon Matilda, my God, it was so calculated in its cruelty, and doubtless devastating in its effects, as I can barely deign to imagine, but what was I to do? I was only a girl of thirteen, and Harold was my brother and second only to the King in power, and in fact surpassing of His Majesty as we know, and had I defied Hal it wouldn’t have changed anything and I would’ve just been locked away to rot in some accursed convent, I know I would’ve, oh Christ Jesus I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I never told you, Madam, please, please forgive me Ealdgyth, my dear sweet sister, forgive me, forgive me, I implore you! I am so terribly, truly sorry, I swear upon my soul’s salvation!” Lady Ealdgyth kissed Aelfgyva in comforting and bid her elaborate regarding what had transpired between Harold and Matilda nine years earlier. Aelfgyva wiped her eyes and poured herself some wine, imbibing deeply ere she complied.

“It’s all right, child. I understand your natural reticence under the prevailing circumstances. Just tell us what occurred here between Harold and Maud, Aelfgyva. Truth’s a doubled-edged sword, as I always say. If my feelings, and Harold’s reputation are cut by its necessary stroke, I can withstand it so long as I’m afforded an equal opportunity to make Matilda suffer its slash’s pain in return. Go on, now. Tell us what happened, sparing us no detail.” Aelfgyva sighed in remorseful resignation, frowning at the flood of memory investing her mind. Sitting herself at the table the young noblewoman unburdened herself in a soft but stark tone.

“Lady Matilda, she thinks … Matilda believes Harold ravished and impregnated her, but it’s not true, at least not in the way that she presumes. However, what actually happened to her at Harold’s contrivance is no less despicable, and perhaps even more so than real rape if you can believe that. I’d been sent by my brother to fetch some things from the market, leaving him to converse with Lady Matilda as they’d done in innocent enough fashion since her arrival. There was a light flirtation between them, but nothing terribly improper. Anyway, when I returned to the manor earlier than Harold anticipated or so I later reckoned, I thought that I heard someone crying out as if in pain from a room upstairs, so I ran up to see if something was wrong. That’s when I beheld Harold in the act of … he must’ve administered some sort of narcotic to Matilda, something to render her unconscious, and hence vulnerable. It was … God as my witness, it was appalling to witness with my own eyes! She was lying naked upon a bed, her legs splayed wide, her eyes open but glazed and sightless, and Harold, he was … he had his fingers, two or three of them … inside her, and thrusting hard as he would if it were his engorged manhood and then he … removed his fingers and utilized a certain lascivious implement oft employed by vile wanton Eves to … to pleasure themselves in lieu of a true phallus’s convenience, and Harold, he proceeded to … to insert the lewd device into the sex of the Duchess, jamming it inside her and withdrawing it, and twisting it about within her until Matilda writhed and moaned in a senseless involuntary response to such a wicked manipulation of her womanhood. I couldn’t move or cry out, it was like I’d been petrified on the spot, I’d never before seen any lady so viciously abused, and by my own beloved and respected kinsman, it was too much to believe, I could not … And then, in a crowning of his abominable assault upon Lady Matilda’s humanity, Harold, he … my brother, he … he masturbated himself … over Matilda so that his seed spewed on her in such a way as to persuade the unfortunate victim of his gross perfidy that she’d engaged in adulterous relations with him. As to Matilda’s discernment of her pregnancy very soon thereafter, I can’t speculate, but I can testify truly Harold couldn’t be her child’s sire though his guilt in her cruel carnal misuse and deception is alas indisputable. As is his culpability for what happened next, I gather. Concerning the sudden curious death of Edward the Exile, I mean. I assume Matilda’s written about it in that damned diary of hers?” Ealdgyth nodded, her face glum with immense sorrow and disappointment. Aelfgyva shook her head, full of regret and fury over the position Harold’s evil conduct and her own cowardice had placed her in, as well as for the loss of Lady Ealdgyth and her other kinswomen’s respect she assumed her moral failing had incurred.

“Yes, Aelfgyva, she did, and with as much bitter fury as any of us would if such an atrocity of indignity had befallen us. I’ve suspected Harold of being guilty of some truly terrible trespasses, but to see it staring back at me in plain ink, the utter depths to which my husband, a man whom I have ever loved and supported with a most true and trusting heart, somewhat naively I grant you, but in the hope and faith that he was, that he would at length prove himself worthy of my loving devotion, that he’d … oh, Harold, Harold, how could you? My God, if this comes to light, what will I tell our children, husband, what, pray? God damn your accursed ambition, and its costs to eternal hell!” Ealdgyth’s kinswomen gathered about her to comfort the stricken noblewoman as she gave vent to impassioned grief over her royal husband’s wickedness, young Gytha tearfully embracing her mother and hugging Ealdgyth tightly as they both wept intensely for the terrible crime of King Harold and the perilous predicament it had reaped for them and for their country. Her daughter’s dreadful exclamation ignited a fierce flame of resolute determination within the breast of Lady Ealdgyth, focusing her concentration upon the issue of how to best react to Lady Matilda’s unexpected but opportune invitation.

“Oh, Mother, what are we to do? I don’t want to wed the Emperor Henry, God knows, and I’m sick over what Father’s alleged to have done to Lady Matilda, but how can we risk leaving England to meet with Matilda, a woman as wronged and harmed as any of our sex could prove at man’s callous hands? How can we be certain the Duchess of Normandy isn’t trying to allure us into her clutches so she can wreak some hideous vengeance upon us for the evil my sire has done to her? And as for marrying Matilda’s son, why, I don’t even know him, and besides, I’ve heard he’s already got a wife, some wench from Italy, doesn’t he? Mother, you know I care not if any crown is set upon my head, I just wish to marry for love as you did, and enjoy peace with a true husband of my heart’s willful choosing as you have with Father, nothing more! What is going to become of us, Madam, it seems to me we are alas lost whether we choose to remain here or flee abroad, Mother, please tell me, what are we going to do?” Lady Ealdgyth seized young Gytha’s shoulders to steady her, and looked her panicked child in the eyes, her voice gentle but firm in its reassurance of decision. Young Gytha shivered, but took strength from her mother’s warm words of bold tender encouragement.

“Listen to me, my sweet girl, and I’ll tell you. Though I realize there may be some risk in our departing this shore to accept Lady Matilda’s offer, daughter, my instinct informs me that in this instance valor ought trump overcautious discretion. Fortune favors the bold, it’s been said, and in my estimate, your father’s recent arbitrariness of decree concerning your disposition coupled with this revelation of his regrettable odiousness of past conduct toward Lady Matilda leaves us with no option save the dignity of flight, in the fervent but practical hope of reaching a mutually satisfactory arrangement of some sort with the Duchess to bring this most idiotic intriguing over a mere crown’s possession to a swift and bloodless conclusion. I know you may differ with me in this, Gunnhild, Aelfgyva, Belgifu, but I’m confident I’m making the right choice for not only myself, but us all, truly. I believe this testament to be authentic as much as it pains me to admit the awful misdeed it attributes to my husband and I believe I can utilize the dire secrets it details for my protection, and young Gytha’s while established at Matilda’s court. A calculating scion of Cain the Lady Maud may be, but something tells me her concern for her family is as sincere as mine for ours, and that securing the greater long-term interests of her house and realm shall be a bulwark for young Gytha and me against any considerations of petty revenge Lady Matilda may yet harbor for Harold’s outrageous transgression. If and when we return I’ll confront Harold in private over the atrocity he perpetrated, and broach the delicate matter of defining our future, if we still have one. Until then however we have arrangements for travel to make and I’ll require assistances from all of you to facilitate the timely covert departure of my daughter and me to the hospitality of Caen.” Ealdgyth’s statement was met with a sullen lack of enthusiasm, prompting her to turn to Aelfgyva for initial critical support. Aelfgyva paled, aghast at Ealdgyth’s request for her and Roger Malet’s personal involvement in such a daring and dangerous agenda.

“Aelfgyva, you can be the greatest help to me. I want you to speak to Roger Malet and tell him to contact Lady Beatrice, his noble cousin, in Normandy. Beatrice is to go and inform the Duchess regarding my acceptance of her invitation and to act as my intermediary with Matilda until young Gytha and I arrive. Roger can utilize his connections in the Norman colony so we can slip out of England unnoticed. I trust I have your complete support in this, my good sister, yes?” Aelfgyva was tempted to balk, but lacked the courage to refuse Ealdgyth despite terror over the potential negative impact upon her own marital hopes should her part in Ealdgyth’s scheme be exposed to Harold’s unforgiving retaliation. At Aelfgyva’s wan nod of resigned assent Ealdgyth issued specific instruction to Gunnhild, Belgifu, young Gytha, and Aelffrid, assigning each of them a particular task of crucial import.

“Very good. Gunnhild, I want you to go to Harold and inform my good husband our darling young Gytha has taken seriously ill and must be confined here for an indeterminate period until she recovers. Make sure to stress the severity of her acute ail’s contagion and keep him and his agents away from here as long as possible. Belgifu, I’ll need you to amass the needed funds for the journey as swiftly as possible and to protect my estates and my children during my absence. I’ll draw up all the legal documents empowering you to act as my proxy at once. Aelffrid, you are welcome to stay here under what protection I can grant you though frankly it may not prove much, alas. Rest assured your courage and decency shall be well rewarded, at some future date.

Gytha, upon you rests the ultimate responsibility for our urgent mission’s success. If I can reach a reasonable understanding with Lady Matilda, you must be willing to honor whatever promises I make, putting your own personal feelings aside to serve both your family and England. Can I depend upon you to conduct yourself as the dutiful child I have taken pains to raise as a decent, faithful, and conscientious Christian gentlewoman in sight of a grande dame such as our hostess, young lady?” Young Gytha blushed, afraid but most eager to demonstrate honor for herself, her house, and her country. Taking her mother’s hands the girl inclined her head in solemn consent, curtsying, receiving Ealdgyth’s deep affectionate hug and grin of a proud maternal approval.

“I knew you’d not disappoint me, my lovely angel. And now my dearest friends let us pray. Dear Lord in heaven, look with favor upon our earnest and sincere efforts for sake of enduring peace between realms in Thy holy name and grant unto such modest but well-meant enterprise Thy sublime blessing, that upon both sides of the water hearts may prove opened to the gospel of wise fellowship ere long so Satan’s lust for carmine conflict may be frustrated to the everlasting glory of Christian concord in shared liberty and prosperity. And please, Lord, forgive my good lord Harold Godwinesson his many sins for as was the case with the mob at Golgotha, he knew not what he did. Amen.” At the sober petition’s conclusion all present echoed Lady Ealdgyth’s abiding hope for celestial support of their covert endeavor, adding their own silent prayers that their chosen course proved righteous in nature and reward. Ealdgyth held young Gytha closer to her heart than ever before, kissing her precious daughter’s head in doting fondness, resolved not to fail more for her children’s sake than for Harold and England’s redemption, or her own.

CHAPTER NINE