Alys Clare - Blood of the South

‘Yes. What of it?’

‘She said she was Hugo Guillaume Fensmanson’s widow, and her name was Rosaria Dalassena.’

‘Yes, that sounds right.’

He paused, as if reluctant to continue. Then he said, ‘Lassair, Dalassena reveals that she belongs to a well-known family. I knew I’d heard it before, and eventually I remembered: Anna Dalassena Comnena is the mother of Alexius Comnenus.’

I stared right back at him. ‘And who might he be?’

Jack sighed. ‘He’s the Byzantine emperor.’ In case I was still missing the point, he added, ‘Lady Rosaria bears the family name of the emperor in Constantinople.’

My mind was casting frantically round for an answer; one that would allow me to go on believing that Lady Rosaria wasn’t my great-uncle’s daughter-in-law. But if her illustrious name really did mean she came from Constantinople, I was on shaky ground.

‘She might have left her home and settled in Spain!’ I protested. ‘She might be one of the Dalassena kin who doesn’t live in Constantinople. She might …’

I was out of ideas. I had to accept that it now seemed more than likely Lady Rosaria did come from Constantinople. We knew that before she went aboard The Good Shepherd she had sailed from Corunna to Bordeaux, but there was absolutely nothing to say that her journey had originated in Spain.

If Lady Rosaria had set out from Constantinople in search of her father-in-law’s kin, and if her father-in-law was my Granny Cordeilla’s youngest brother, then it was my family she sought and we could not turn her away. I knew it was our duty, but the thought of her as a kinswoman was abhorrent to me.

Jack seemed to understand how I was feeling. He didn’t speak, but simply drew me very close, and waited until my harsh breathing calmed. Then he held me at arm’s length and said firmly, ‘There’s only one way we can be sure.’

I nodded. ‘I know.’

‘I’m going to ask her, right now.’

I grinned. ‘I know that, too. Can I come with you?’

He returned my smile. ‘Under the circumstances,’ he said, ‘I think it would be unreasonable if you didn’t.’

We rode up the track to Lakehall, where we handed our horses over to a stable boy’s care. We went up the steps, and Bermund admitted us into the hall. He announced us to Lord Gilbert and Lady Emma, seated either side of the hearth. Lord Gilbert rose to his feet, his eyebrows raised in query.

‘You have news?’ he demanded. ‘You have located Lady Rosaria’s kinsmen?’

Jack didn’t answer. Instead he said, ‘We need to see her, my lord.’

‘You can’t. She is unwell, and has taken to her room to rest,’ Lord Gilbert said firmly.

‘Nevertheless, I must speak to her,’ Jack insisted.

Perhaps something about his resolute manner suggested to Lord Gilbert that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. ‘You can’t just-’ Lord Gilbert began. Then, with a shrug, he seemed to give up. Frowning, he turned to Bermund. ‘Fetch her,’ he said curtly.

We waited. After quite some time, Lady Rosaria glided out into the hall. Her veil was in place but her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, as if she hadn’t been sleeping. Or, perhaps, had been weeping …

Lord Gilbert made to step towards her, but Lady Emma put out her hand and held him back. I heard her murmur, surprisingly firmly, ‘Leave it to Jack.’

Jack had turned to face Lady Rosaria. As she stopped a few paces away, he gave her a low bow. ‘Once again, I have come to ask you to answer my questions, my lady,’ he said courteously.

Lady Rosaria, who had been staring at Lord Gilbert, turned her great dark eyes to Jack, but did not speak. Lord Gilbert, shaking off Lady Emma’s hand and going to stand beside her, said, ‘Chevestrier, do not trouble her! She is unwell, as surely you can see?’

‘Lassair is a healer,’ Jack said. ‘I am sure she would be happy to help, if you wish it, my lady?’

Lady Rosaria shot one quick look in my direction, then tossed her head, dismissing me. ‘I do not need help,’ she said.

‘Then please answer my questions,’ Jack said. He stepped closer to her, ignoring Lord Gilbert’s thunderous frown. ‘If you are sick, my lady, we offer you the services of a healer to make you better before we continue. If you say you do not need them, then I conclude that you are well. It is for you to tell us -’ Lord Gilbert tried to interrupt, but Jack, raising his voice, spoke over him – ‘but I will have your answers.’

It was too much for Lord Gilbert. ‘You do not address a lady in this manner!’ he spluttered, his round, jowly face scarlet with furious indignation. ‘Were my guest already in her rightful place with her kinsman and his noble family, you would not dare, and I will not have it here in my own hall!’

Jack, his patience apparently at an end, spun round to face Lord Gilbert. ‘You, my lord, should join me in demanding Lady Rosaria’s answers, for matters may not be as you believe.’

Lady Rosaria gave a gasp, quickly muffled as she put a long, be-ringed hand to her mouth. Turning back to her, Jack said, ‘Where did you come from, Lady Rosaria? You arrived in Cambridge on a boat out of Lynn, and you reached there on a ship which you boarded in Bordeaux, having sailed there from Corunna.’ He paused, staring intently at her as if gauging her reaction to hearing all that he – and I – had discovered. ‘I do not believe,’ he added softly, ‘that your long voyage began in Spain.’

Slowly she shook her head. ‘I did not say that it did,’ she said in a low voice.

‘Where, then?’ Jack pressed on. ‘Where was your home?’

There was utter silence in the hall. Then she lifted her chin, stared Jack in the eyes and said, ‘Constantinople.’

Oh, dear Lord , I thought, Jack was right.

‘You gave your name before marriage as Dalassena,’ he said. ‘Do you claim kinship with the emperor’s mother?’

She made no response for a moment, then, almost reluctantly, she nodded.

Jack was relentless. ‘And tell us again why you fled your home.’

She waved a hand in a gesture of frustration. ‘My husband died of fever, and my father-in-law also became sick.’ Her voice gathered strength as she spoke, and in her strange accent I caught intonations that my own people use. Had she picked them up from her husband and his father, even as she learned their language?

With a terrible sense of foreboding, I began, at last, to accept the truth.

‘Disease is sweeping through the city,’ Lady Rosaria went on, ‘my husband dies, and Harald, he fears for the safety of me and of my child, last of his line. He gives me money, he gives me a maidservant, he commands me to take passage to England to find his kin so that they can take me in and so that the boy will be raised in the right manner for someone of his status.’ Again, she raised her chin, the heavy veil floating in soft ripples across the lower part of her face and her throat. I caught a hint of her perfume; sweet, smelling of roses.

‘Harald Fensman was a great lord, then?’ Jack asked.

‘Yes! He came from a fine manor with many acres, many slaves, big family with wealth and position!’

‘This was what he told you?’

‘Yes, yes! Always the tales of his home in Fen , of his rich kinsmen who prospered and thrived!’

‘Why, then, if they were so wealthy, did he need to go abroad to make his fortune?’ Jack asked.

‘Because – because-’ She shrugged. ‘I cannot say,’ she said angrily. ‘I do not know these things; such matters are not discussed with me. I can only repeat what my father-in-law told me.’

‘My lady, I believe that I can now tell you who Harald Fensman really was,’ Jack said. His voice, I noticed, was suddenly gentle.