The Devil’s Diadem. Sara Douglass
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admiring and speculative both, and I lowered my eyes that I might not meet any of their interest. I flattered myself that many of those glances were directed at me, but I knew that Evelyn must also garner her share of admiration, for she was still young enough to rouse lust in a man, and looked very fine tonight in her deep red gown and her glistening nut-brown hair heavily braided with blue and silver beads.
Evelyn — usually — wore the veil of the married woman, but was she widowed? Or as yet unwed and only wore the veil as acknowledgement of her rank and age? She had never talked of a husband to me in our nightly chats, and in fact avoided revealing too much personal information at all. I resolved to delve a little this night, if I had the chance.
We arrived at our places, only five or six down from the high table, and Evelyn graciously thanked the servant who bowed and left us to seat ourselves. We were lucky to have a bench of our own, and as we slid into place I was careful not to catch the table linens and tip all the tableware to the ground.
Tonight, I was determined that I should be worthy of my place in this court.
Our tableware, though fine, was not of the beauty of the high table. Pewter bowls held water for us to wash our fingers, and wine cups of similar nature sat before us. There were some pewter spoons on the table, but mostly we would use our fingers or the small personal knives that all carried at belts or girdles. At least my knife would not disgrace me, I thought, fingering it gently as it swung from my girdle, for it was of good craftsmanship — one of the few things I’d had from my childhood that was of any worth.
A servant appeared at our elbows, and filled our cups with a spiced wine.
I took a sip, and marvelled at its headiness. I would need to be careful not to sip too enthusiastically.
‘Sweet mistress,’ said the man immediately on my left, ‘may I ask your name? I have been to the earl’s court on many an occasion, but have not seen you previously.’
I turned to look at him, wondering how I should respond. He was a man of younger years, fair of hair and with an open friendly face, well dressed in a heavily embroidered russet tunic with a fine white linen shirt beneath. He wore several gold rings, set with gems, on his fingers, and a small hoop through one ear.
‘I am Mistress Maeb Langtofte, and I serve the Lady Adelie. Are you with the king’s retinue? Forgive my ignorance, but I do not yet know even all the earl’s retinue, let alone the king’s.’
‘I think any man could find it easy to forgive you anything,’ the man said, ‘for it is rare to find such beauty without a jealous husband attached to her arm. You must be new arrived at the earl’s house, yes? Otherwise I cannot imagine how you yet remain unwed. I swear, within the six month, a score of gallant knights and barons shall beg the earl for your hand.’
I was growing uncomfortable now, for I was not used to such direct conversation nor such admiration. The man also had not yet given me his name, and I did not know if perchance I spoke with one of the king’s younger brothers, or one of his lords, or if he was one of the earl’s men and sent here to test me. He could just as likely have been attached to either Summersete or Scersberie, and I was at a loss as to how to address him.
The man’s blue eyes twinkled, and I knew he sensed my discomfort.
‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I am Ranulph Saint-Valery, and I hail from Lincolescire. Edmond amuses himself by keeping me within his court, but for what reason, I do not know, for I cannot think I serve one single useful earthly purpose.’
I smiled, thinking it would not be hard to like this man.
‘But for tonight, lovely lady,’ Saint-Valery continued, ‘I shall be your servant, and shall serve you the most delicate morsels from my plate and wipe the lip of your cup with my napkin, that your wine may always taste sweet.’
Now I was blushing, for I had never before encountered such courtliness, nor such attention.
Fortunately Evelyn came to my rescue as I struggled to make some light, witty remark.
‘My Lord Saint-Valery, you are making my young companion blush with your pretty words. Maeb, our lord king likes to keep Sir Ranulph at his court for the beauty of his poetry. You have at your side one of England’s greatest poets. Is that not so, my lord?’
Ranulph made a deprecating gesture with one hand, then half turned aside as a servant made a fuss in the refilling of his wine cup.
The momentary distraction allowed Evelyn to whisper into my ear. ‘Be careful of him, Maeb. A celebrated poet he may be, but he is also one of Edmond’s spies at court. He uses his poetry and sweet tongue to coerce even the most well-kept secret from the tightest lips.’
I squeezed her hand, grateful for the warning.
I wondered if my table companion was mere happenchance, or if Edmond had decided I might be a spy in the employ of the King of Sicily after all.
Saint-Valery and I chatted for a while of Witenie, where I was born and raised. He knew of its market, having attended one day, which knowledge surprised me.
‘You did not see me?’ he said, his mouth curving in a smile. I was a little disturbed to suddenly realise how sensual that mouth was. ‘Choosing among the apples?’
‘No, my lord,’ I said, ‘for I should surely have remembered so distinguished a visitor had I seen you. Perhaps you came disguised? A travelling minstrel perhaps. A vagabond. So that none might recognise you and mark your presence.’
The smile widened a little, although the expression on his face was now speculative rather than amused. ‘You have courage with your words, Mistress Maeb. You are not afraid to tease.’
‘It is the wine,’ I murmured. ‘It goes to my head.’
‘Then I shall press it the more urgently upon you, that I might know you better.’
I was about to reply, but just then the mellow tones of two horns sounded by the door and all conversation stopped as we turned to look.
‘The king,’ Saint-Valery murmured, and with that all assembled at the long tables rose, and either bowed or dipped in courtesy.
Edmond and the Earl of Pengraic and Lady Adelie had entered the hall. Edmond led the way, Lady Adelie on his arm, with the earl a step behind. All were dressed richly, and I thought that Edmond now looked every part the king in his splendid blue tunic with its gold embroideries, fur-lined mantle, jewelled brooch, and heavily jewelled circlet upon his brow. He wore a sword at his left hip, and its hilt looked to me as if it were fashioned from pure gold inlaid with diamonds.
Lady Adelie looked weary, but otherwise sparkled with jewels in the circlet she wore on her head and wound through her braids which hung almost to the floor. The earl likewise wore rich cloth and many jewels, and a sword as well. He and the king were the only men in the hall, apart from the men-at-arms standing against the walls, who wore their weapons, although all of us carried small eating knives at our belts.
Saint-Valery saw me looking at the swords. ‘No one wears their sword in the presence of the king,’ he murmured, ‘save his host.’
I nodded my thanks.
Behind came Walter de Roche, the Earl of Summersete, and Gilbert de Montgomerie, the Earl of Scersberie.
Lord Stephen walked a few steps behind the two earls, looking splendid in a gold and silver tunic, possibly the one I had seen him in that first day I’d met him, and I am afraid my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. I wondered if he would see me from where he ate at high table.
After Stephen came Alice and Emmette and the two boys, Ancel and Robert, with Mistress Yvette a step behind. She was dressed in a manner almost as rich as Lady Adelie, which showed as nothing else the favour in which Lady Adelie held her.
Edmond and Lady Adelie drew close to where Evelyn, Saint-Valery and I stood, and while the countess kept her eyes ahead, the king glanced over.
For a moment he met my eyes, then I dropped mine