Bertrice Small - The Captive Heart

The king's body servant, John, came into the hall on his way to the kitchens for his meal. He had been watching over the king while the others had eaten. "Mistress Alix," he called to her. "The queen needs you to sing to the king."

"Go," the physician said. "I am fine."

Placing a kiss upon his cheek Alix hurried from the hall.

"She sings to the king?" Sir Udolf looked quizzically at Alexander Givet.

"When the king is restless and the dolor comes upon him, my daughter sings to the king the songs that his mother used to sing to him. It calms him."

"She is a pretty girl," the baron said, "and both faithful and true not just to her parent but to her lord and lady, as well I can see. You are truly blessed in your daughter."

"Your son," the physician said. "He was not in the hall tonight."

"Hayle had many things to do for me, and he is devoted to Wulfborn," the baron answered. "Ah, here is the chessboard all set up for us now. Will you play black or white, my good doctor?"

"White," Alexander Givet said. "Wulfborn?"

"The name of our estate. This is Wulfborn Hall. Our distant ancestors were Vikings, or so the legend goes. Hayle looks very much like I would imagine a Viking warrior would look," the baron said. "He is tall and blond."

The two men sat down to play at chess, talking, sipping at their cups. The hour grew late, and after each man had won, the baron suggested they retire for the night. A servant helped the physician to his bedspace, which was made up with a feather bed and a goose-down coverlet. It was, as the baron had promised, the bedspace nearest the hearth, and the walls were warm. Alexander Givet settled himself comfortably, relieved. He was truly warm for the first time in days, and he prayed they would not have to move on too quickly. These past weeks had been hard on them all.

The king had slipped away into himself by morning, and was unresponsive to all, and everything about him. The queen put on a brave front, but she was frightened more for her husband and son than for herself. Sir Udolf, however, reassured her that the royal fugitives were more than welcome to stay at Wulfborn Hall. He reminded her that his home was isolated, and near enough to the Scots border for a quick escape should one be necessary. Margaret of Anjou was grateful.

"I wish," the queen said, "that there were some way in which we might repay you, Sir Udolf." They had been sheltering in his home for two weeks now, and it was mid-April. The snows had vanished, and the longer days were almost mild. "But as you know, we are little better than beggars now."

"Madame, I am honored to have you as my guests," the baron replied gallantly.

She nodded graciously, but then she said, "My lord, you have a son, do you not?"

"I do," he acknowledged.

"But he is not wed," Margaret of Anjou continued. "Why is that?"

The baron sighed deeply. "He is a good lad, madame, but to be most candid with you, Hayle is a bit odd. We have few neighbors, but those with daughters will not agree to any match with my son."

"What makes him odd?" the queen asked.

Again the baron sighed. "He was a sweet-natured little boy, but when he was four he almost drowned in my mill pond. After his recovery he changed, becoming impatient, determined to have his own way, and subject to terrible tempers when he did not get it. He has a mistress. The miller's daughter. He says he wants no other woman but Maida. I have told him he must have an heir. But there is no suitable bride for my son. I do not know what I will do. I cannot accept the child of a miller's daughter as my son's heir. But if I die before he weds, Hayle will have his way, I fear."

The queen's beautiful face was devoid of expression, and then she said, "Perhaps I may be of help to you, my lord."

He looked at her questioningly. "Madame?"

"As fugitives who will soon have a price upon our heads, we must travel quickly. The fewer in our party the less difficult it will be to find sanctuary. We have not traveled in some months with the royal dignity due us. At the homes of various nobility I have had to leave our servants and beg for their safety." The queen paused briefly, and then she continued. "Alexander Givet and his wife came with me from Anjou when I married the king. Blanche grew up with me. I am their daughter's godmother. Alix is fifteen going on sixteen. Her parents come from noble families in Anjou. Minor nobility to be sure, but then you too, Sir Udolf, are counted among the lesser nobility here in England. The physician is a younger son. His wife was put in my father's care when she was six. Their daughter was born in England. She would make a very suitable wife for your son, and I would know my godchild was safe."

"Would her father accept such an arrangement?" Sir Udolf asked the queen.

"Ah, my lord, there is the small difficulty. If you would have my goddaughter for your son, you must give her father a home too. My doctor is not well, and hasn't been in some time. He can travel no longer, I fear. The cough he had when we arrived has barely subsided in these few weeks despite Alix's vigorous nursing. He misses his wife greatly, and has lived for their daughter. Once he sees her safe and settled at Wulfborn Hall, I suspect he will die at peace."

"I will be happy to have him here," the baron said generously. "I am enjoying his company in the evenings. Very well, madame. If Alexander Givet will let his daughter wed my son, we have a bargain."

"How will you coerce your son into obeying you?" the queen wanted to know.

"He will obey me after much argument," the baron said in a hard voice.

"I do not want my godchild abused," Margaret of Anjou replied. "You must give me your word, my lord, that Alix will be treated with the respect due to the lady of this house. As much as I seek her safety, my conscience will not allow her to be put in jeopardy, my lord. Will you give me your guarantee?"

"I will, Your Highness!" the baron said. "I swear you my oath to treat Alix Givet with kindness and respect. She shall not be harmed in my care."

"Thank you, Sir Udolf. I will speak with my physician on this matter, then," the queen said, and she left the baron to find him.

He was seated in a sunny corner of the hall's small garden. Alix was with him. Reaching them, the queen smiled and said, " Non! Non ! Alexander, do not rise. Tuck the coverlet back around him, ma chérie Alix. Then go and relieve Edmee of her duty. I would speak privately with your father."

Alix did as she had been bid, and then hurried off back into the house.

Margaret of Anjou sat next to her physician upon the small stone bench. "Well, mon ami , we have come to the end of our travels together. You are not well enough to go on, and I cannot let you die by the wayside."

Alexander Givet nodded. He, his daughter, Fayme, Edmee, and the king's servant, John, were the bare remnants of what had once been a large royal household. "I will take Alix home to Anjou," he said. "My brother will see my daughter married to a good husband, Highness. It has been my honor to serve you all these years." Then he began to cough, struggling to control the spasms that racked his thin body.

"You have not the strength to reach Anjou," the queen said gently when her physician's coughing had subsided. "And traveling alone with a young girl would be much too dangerous for you in your condition and especially for Alix."

"Then what, Highness, am I to do?" Alexander Givet asked his mistress.

"Sir Udolf has a son who needs a wife. If you will agree to give your daughter in marriage to Hayle Watteson, you will both have a home and a place," the queen said. "Sir Udolf likes Alix, and has given his oath that she will be treated with kindness and respect as his son's wife and the mother of his grandchildren."