Stewart Binns - Anarchy

‘I still don’t see why all that means you have been prowling around Angers like a voyeur…’

‘Although your uncle was Duke of Normandy and a true and faithful Norman, he sympathized with the claim of Prince Edgar, your English uncle, to the throne at Westminster. The Brethren believed that Norman rule in England was inherently unjust and unnecessarily harsh and would not be put right until a Cerdician monarch returned to the throne at Westminster–’

‘And I have that Cerdician blood through my mother!’

‘Yes, ma’am – you are a direct descendent from Edmund Ironside and all who preceded him.’

‘So you are following me to protect me?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ I fell to my knees and grasped her hand, ‘and to declare my unwavering loyalty. Three generations of my family have fought for liberty. If you will have me, I would like to continue their courageous tradition by serving you and making sure that your father’s wish that you become Queen is fulfilled.’

‘That’s quite a speech, Harold of Hereford. You may get to your feet. But you must know that I am also a Norman; my father is a Norman king.’

‘Indeed, ma’am. At the beginning of the English Revolt, the Brotherhood opposed Duke William, your grandfather, believing he had unfairly seized the crown by force of arms at Senlac Ridge. But Hereward persuaded them to accept the inevitable, and instead they campaigned against the harshness of Norman rule. The English do not easily accept unjust regimes, which is why we believe a Cerdician queen would rule justly. Duke Robert understood that and was able to take the oath of the Brethren. I also carry this amulet, the Talisman of Truth – an object that has been worn by Caesars, kings and emperors. I am its guardian, the third generation of my family to be chosen.’

‘Were you given it by your father?’

‘No, ma’am, by John Comnenus, the Emperor of Byzantium.’

‘I see, you certainly move in interesting circles for a mere knight. May I see the Talisman?’

I handed the amulet to her, but with a warning.

‘Do not be alarmed, Your Majesty. It is not what it seems; it brings wisdom and insight.’

She examined it with some trepidation.

‘It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before; one day you must explain it to me. You are an interesting man, Harold of Hereford. But how do you know I would rule fairly?’

‘Because it is in your blood, Majesty; you are a Cerdician.’

‘Is that not a sort of blind faith?’

‘Indeed, it may appear so, ma’am. But remember, if your rule turned out to be harsh and unjust, the English people would resist you, just as they did your grandfather… and so would I.’

Matilda’s face broke into a wonderful beaming smile.

‘Well, you are certainly a man of conviction! I suppose you would now like to accompany me to London?’

‘I am at your service, Your Majesty.’

‘Very well, let us see how we get along. You may call me “my Lady”. England does not have an Emperor so, when I am Queen, I will be called “Queen Matilda, Lady of England and Normandy”.’

‘Very good, my Lady. May I ask why you are travelling with such a small escort?’

‘No, you may not!’

I had taken a step too far and rebuked myself for being too bold. Matilda walked briskly back to her carriage. As she passed her captain, who continued to watch me like a hawk, she made the introductions.

‘Captain Margam, Harold of Hereford will accompany us to London. He and his man will report to you. At any hint of disobedience or sign of mischief, get rid of them.’

‘Very well, my Lady.’

Captain Margam looked at me with contempt as he returned my weapons. Then he leaned towards me and hissed a warning.

‘You heard what my Lady Matilda said. But remember this, if I do have cause to get rid of you, you won’t be in one piece when you go!’

A few years ago, a warning like that would have put the fear of God into me, but I had learned three important lessons over the previous twelve years. Firstly, most men can bark louder than they can bite. Secondly, the really dangerous men do not issue warnings. And thirdly, all men bleed – no matter how invincible they may seem – so always be the first to strike.

Eadmer had got the measure of Margam as well.

‘He’s a killer; watch your back. And I’ll watch it too!’

The remainder of the journey across Normandy and the Channel to England was uneventful. I spent most of the time observing Matilda, who managed to remain dignified despite the uncomfortable circumstances. She was the daughter of the King of England and the widow of the Holy Roman Emperor – the two most powerful men in Europe whose two domains covered almost the whole of the continent – and was not accustomed to adversity. She was travelling with little or no protection and had none of the luxuries – such as numerous servants, frequent changes of clothes, hot water and portable commodes – that would have made the journey easier to bear.

She kept her temper and her humour, was prepared to relieve herself by the side of the road like everybody else and to remain unwashed rather than immerse herself in the filthy butts of water available at the roadside inns. She ate only what she was sure was edible, which often meant food had to be forsaken, and went without sleep for long periods.

Eadmer and I again adopted the pseudonyms Robyn of Hode and William of Scaerlette when we reached England. Choosing the path of caution, we stayed in the shadows at Westminster when Matilda went to see the King.

Fearing that Margam was very much the King’s man – and likely to reveal our true identity to him – we were on our guard, with our horses ready to ride, during the entire stay.

Fortunately, we did not have to wait in readiness at Westminster for long. Matilda’s meeting with the King did not go well. As was true of most kings – especially Norman ones – he was used to being obeyed. For his daughter to depart her marriage bed, jeopardize a delicate treaty with a new ally and embarrass him in the eyes of Europe – all of this was a major misdemeanour. He was furious – shouting and bellowing along the corridors of Westminster – and, within a day, Matilda was back on the road to Dover. The King had given her a much bigger escort and entourage and a few more comforts than she had enjoyed when she left Angers.

We rejoined the end of the Empress’s entourage south of Southwark. But within a hundred yards of doing so, Margam rode up to us with several men.

‘I am arresting you in the name of King Henry! These men will take you back to Westminster to face his judgement.’

He turned to a sergeant and issued his curt instructions.

‘Disarm them and bind them. Take their horses. They can walk, or be dragged.’

I looked at Eadmer.

He knew what he had to do and had his seax deep into the throat of the sergeant before the man could blink.

I raised my leg, knocking Margam clean out of his saddle.

Eadmer and I both kicked our mounts into a gallop. The road to Dover at Southwark was busy and the people, horses and carts using the highway helped our escape. We created confusion in our wake as we sped away, making it difficult for the posse of pursuers to catch us. As soon as the traffic thinned, we turned off the road, rode through the woods at Chislehurst and headed over the Downs to the coast in the hope of intercepting Matilda’s escort before it left Dover.

We arrived at the port at about the same time as Matilda and her party. Her ship was waiting for her and I contemplated how we could make contact with her without alerting Margam and his men. I had discovered in London that Margam was a Welsh knight of the Lordship of Afan, in South Wales, a formidable warrior and not a man to be crossed.