Stewart Binns - Anarchy

I gambled that Matilda would stay at least one night in the comfort of Dover Castle before waiting for the tide and the right winds to make the crossing.

Gaining access to the castle was not difficult – my knight’s pennon and the presence of both the Talisman and the Order of San Marco around my neck ensured that – but the difficulty was obtaining access to the royal chambers. Eadmer and I walked round and round the keep, but we could see no way of getting beyond the royal cordon – nor any way of approaching Matilda without being seen by Margam. There was just one, highly risky option: a message tied to an arrow shot through the window of her chamber. But even this assumed that we could ascertain in which chamber she would spend the night.

Eadmer had grave concerns.

‘It’s a shot of forty yards, at an acute angle, in the gloom. The window is less than a foot wide – and as soon as she goes in, her maid is going to close the shutter. You could easily hit her – or even the Empress! That shot’s impossible–’

‘But it’s worth a try. Come on! I need to rehearse.’

We made an educated guess at the location of Matilda’s chamber, based on the reasonable deduction that hers was the one with a double window. It was late January and cold, and we knew we had to make the shot before dusk – at which time, the shutters would be closed. There was a glow from the fireplace in the room and I could see shadows when anyone passed in front of it. I had blunted my arrow as much as I could and tied a piece of leather to its tip, but there was still a considerable risk that I would hit someone.

I waited until the shadows stopped moving.

I took aim; I only had one chance.

My note was scratched in charcoal on a piece of vellum purchased in haste that had cost a small fortune. The arrow clipped the arch of the window as it passed but went into the room. I thought I heard a shriek and hoped it was caused by shock and not by injury. My note read, in Latin:

My Lady,

I’m sure you know, but we were intercepted by Margam at Southwark and are now in even more trouble than before.

If you need our help, we are in the keep, in the corridor behind the stables.

We waited for almost an hour, with horses saddled and a clear escape exit readily available. I began to think that our help was not required, or that the killing of Margam’s sergeant had persuaded Matilda that we were not to be trusted. There was even the possibility that Margam was again about to ambush us.

At last, to our relief, through the darkness of the keep, three hooded figures moved stealthily towards us, one much larger than the other two. It was Matilda, a maid and a guard. I looked at the guard suspiciously.

‘It’s fine, you can trust him – he’s a Swabian, one of the Emperor’s finest.’

‘My Lady, I’m sorry my message arrived a little melodramatically.’

‘Melodramatically, indeed – you nearly speared my maid to the floor! But it was a fine shot. Where did you learn to use a bow like that?’

‘I am an English knight, my Lady; we practise with a bow as soon as we can walk. We heard a scream – I hope it didn’t alert your guards.’

‘It did, but I told them it was a rat!’

Once again, I was impressed by Matilda’s composure. And yet I couldn’t help thinking that her lightness of tone was a clever way of masking her vulnerability.

‘How are you, my Lady?’

‘I am relieved you are here; we barely know one another, but I need help. The King has insisted that I return to Angers and apologize to my husband. He is livid with me for having tested his authority.’

‘And what do you want to do?’

‘I want to escape. When my first husband was alive, the whole of Europe supplicated themselves at my feet. I was regent in Lombardy and in the lands of the Swiss – and even the Pope knelt before me when he needed to keep his Roman Bishopric safe.’

‘Who can you trust?’

‘Only Lothar here… and my maid, Greta. The rest are my father’s men.’

‘Where is Margam?’

‘Drinking or whoring – possibly both. I don’t trust him. He keeps an eye on me for my father, rather than protecting me.’

‘So what is your plan?’

‘Follow us across the Channel. We should rendezvous at the old Church of Our Lady in Beauvais. I know the priest there – he was my confessor in Mainz. Give him this ring, he will know it’s from me. Wait for me there. I need to escape beyond the borders of Normandy and find refuge somewhere in the Empire, probably in Lombardy. Hal, you are my only hope, please be there!’

‘Worry not, my Lady, I will be there. Will you need horses?’

‘Yes – and supplies for a journey. Here is some money; please buy simple clothes for me and Greta.’

The three figures then scuttled across the keep as furtively as before and returned to the royal chambers.

We were in Beauvais as quickly as good horses and a worthy sea captain permitted, and there we waited patiently for Matilda.

Eadmer shared my concerns for the future.

‘Margam has a lot of men who know how to handle themselves. He’ll alert every garrison in Normandy. Her husband will be looking for her as well, and he has many powerful friends from the Alps to the Mediterranean. She can’t hide away forever.’

‘I know, my friend, and to make matters worse a new Emperor has been elected in the Holy Roman Empire – Lothair, Duke of Saxony. He will have little sympathy for a fugitive wife.’

‘It is going to be another pit of shit we’re getting ourselves into!’

‘I think you’re right, but I also think she’s worth it. She’ll be a Cerdician queen one day, remember.’

‘Not at this rate! If she doesn’t go back to her husband and produce a grandson for the King, the crown will go to someone else.’

‘You’re right, of course. But first, let’s see if she will tell us why she left Count Geoffrey. Then we can take it from there.’

During the third evening of our wait in Beauvais, the priest came to us with a message from Matilda: two hours before dawn, we were to be ready with the horses in the lee of the nave of the old church.

It was a cold night, and a bitter wind howled around the walls of the church as we huddled under our cloaks for shelter. Always anxious about ambush and betrayal, Eadmer circled the building several times but found only stray dogs and blasts of icy air.

‘She needs to hurry! I’m freezing, and I’d much prefer a good head start in darkness.’

‘Patience, Eadmer. She’ll be here.’

A few minutes later, Lothar, Matilda’s giant Swabian bodyguard, appeared. He was alone, but questioned us in his heavy Germanic accent.

‘Do you have everything ready?’

‘Yes, all is prepared.’

‘Wait, just two minutes; we are camped nearby.’

Three hooded figures appeared soon afterwards – as did the priest, who let us into the church. Matilda did not seem flustered and spoke with a calm authority.

‘Good evening, Gentlemen. Did you bring clothes for us?’

‘We did, my Lady.’

Eadmer handed the clothes to Greta, and both women went behind the altar to change.

When they emerged, Lothar handed me a casket and Matilda issued a firm order.

‘That contains enough silver to take us across Europe several times. Now, let’s ride!’

I felt justified in asking the obvious question.

‘In which direction, my Lady?’

‘South, of course. Let’s go!’

South it was, day after day. Thankfully, both ladies could ride and we made excellent progress. We steered clear of large towns and cities. The women’s modest clothing meant they were taken as yeoman’s ladies and our anonymity remained intact. We camped in the open, despite the chill of winter. Matilda seemed not in the slightest perturbed by the cold air or the rain, as long as we made a good fire to bed down beside.