Stewart Binns - Anarchy

There was never a hint of any pursuers, and we were confident that we had left no trace or trail to follow. We veered west of Paris, passed Chartres, Orléans and Châteauroux, before reaching the High Limousin beyond Limoges, where we knew we could relax. There was snow on the ground, so we found a small village in the valley of the Charente and gave a farmer a piece of silver for the use of his hay barn for a few days.

While Eadmer and Lothar went hunting and Greta made up some bedding, I asked Matilda what her plan was. I had not raised the subject until that point, thinking it wise to let her get well away from Normandy. Feeling sure that she had a plan, I was impatient to hear it.

For the first time since we had left Beauvais, Matilda sounded hesitant and looked bewildered.

‘Well, I suppose we should turn east soon… to head for Geneva and the Alps.’

‘But, my Lady, it is midwinter and to the east is the high ground of the Massif. It may be wise to keep going south and cross into Lombardy along the Mediterranean.’

‘As you wish; I would appreciate it very much if you took care of our journey.’

‘With pleasure, my Lady. But what is our destination?’

‘Well, Lombardy… or perhaps Savoy. I think I can rely on the Count there, Amadeus III. He is very ambitious and has always been an ally to me…’

‘Are you not sure?’

She hesitated and suddenly looked vulnerable. There were tears in her eyes.

‘To be honest, no, I’m not sure… I just need to get as far away from my father and my husband as I can.’

I felt that she was about to tell me the whole story, but this was neither the time nor the place. An audacious – even impudent – thought suddenly came to me.

‘My Lady, you need time to think. I have a small estate several days south of here. It is not an imperial palace – nor, indeed, any kind of palace – but it is comfortable and very private. You are welcome to spend as much time as you like there.’

She looked at me with an expression that was a strange mix of desperation and joy.

‘It sounds perfect… I am so grateful to you. But it could get you into trouble.’

‘My Lady, I am already in a good deal of trouble. I don’t think it could get worse!’

The journey to the south would bring mixed emotions. I was excited that one of the most important women in Europe would be staying on my humble estate, but anxious that I was sinking deeper and deeper into a mire from which there was no obvious escape. At times, my feelings were almost childlike. The astonishing good fortune of being able to play host to a beautiful empress made my heart race. But it also galloped with fear: I was almost certainly pronouncing a death sentence on myself and Eadmer. At times I had to pinch myself to be sure that what was happening was indeed real and not a figment of a storyteller’s vivid imagination.

By the time we reached St Cirq Lapopie, Matilda was smiling broadly and seemed happy – or as happy as her circumstances would allow. The further south we had travelled, the broader had become her smile and when she saw how remote and peaceful the estate was, she beamed from ear to ear. She had a wonderful smile – a smile that seemed to light up her whole face and infused everyone around her with joy.

‘You were right; it is wonderful. Thank you, Hal.’

‘We need a name for you, my Lady. The locals will wonder who you are.’

‘Of course! My family name is Maud – Greta and I can be your relatives from England.’

‘Very well, Maud it is.’

I waited for almost two weeks before reminding Matilda of the realities of her circumstances. It was late in the afternoon; she was sitting at the top of the limestone crags at the back of the farmhouse, watching the full waters of the Lot flowing swiftly towards a rapidly setting sun.

‘May I join you, my Lady?’

‘Of course, Hal. Please call me Maud – my family name for my new family in the Lot.’

‘Thank you.’

She smiled her distinctive, very uninhibited smile again. I was smitten by her presence and very proud that Maud was so happy in our humble abode. But I looked nervously towards the east, feeling anxious about the conversation I knew I had to have with her.

‘The snows are melting on the Massif. It will be spring soon. You will like it here in the spring – it is very pretty.’

She sensed my anxiety and also knew perfectly well that her haven in the Lot was, at best, a temporary arcadia.

‘But you don’t think I should be here by then, do you?’

‘Well, we need a plan. Your father will be angry – and so will your husband.’

‘My husband will not give me a second thought. He’s just a silly boy, petulant and spoiled. He has no conversation and no charm. He drives me mad!’

‘That will change–’

‘Perhaps… but there’s no hint of hair on his face yet. And even less sign of virile manhood between his legs!’

‘That will change as well.’

‘I have no doubt! But my father expects a grandson, and I’ve told him there’s no chance of that – unless the Angel Gabriel intervenes!’

‘And what did he say?’

‘He told me to use my feminine wiles to get him to perform. The typical response of a man! Hal, I had to get away. I begged the King to let me stay in London until Geoffrey is ready for a proper marriage, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He was in a towering rage and threatened to put me in a nunnery.’

Despite the crisis we were in, I felt energized. Maud was confiding in me in forthright terms, like an old friend, and we were still able to enjoy our haven in the Lot – at least, for a while longer.

‘You know I will do all I can to help. But we must get a message to the King, to tell him you’re safe.’

‘But how? Do you have a suggestion?’

‘I do. We should send Lothar to Angers, and Eadmer to London, with messages from you.’

Tears started to form in her eyes.

‘But I don’t know what I want to say… I know that ultimately I must do my duty. I grew to like Henry; he was a good Emperor and a robust man. We never had children, but he knew what to do in the bedchamber and kept me content. But Geoffrey is not easy to like and certainly couldn’t pleasure me as a woman. I began to look at the men at court…’

She paused and looked at me wistfully.

‘Do you mind me talking like this? You see… I have no one else.’

‘Of course not – I am no stranger to issues of the heart, and have experienced my own frustrations.’

‘I’m sure you have. But I couldn’t help noticing that there was no woman here, waiting for your return?’

‘There have been girls here, but no one special. The one love of my life died in tragic circumstances. It took me a long time to recover from that…’

I suddenly felt a pang of pain from the past.

Maud gently asked the question I knew I would one day have to answer.

‘Who was she?’

‘Her name was Livia Michele, and she was a Princess of Venice. It is a long story; I’ll tell you about it one day… But for now, we need to decide what you want to say in your messages.’

Maud was astute enough to recognize that there would be another time for intimate reminiscences. She gathered her thoughts and spoke with determination.

‘I need time. I will return to London two years from now, in the spring of 1131, to see my father. He can summon Geoffrey to join me there – he will be eighteen by then and should have a beard on his face and a man’s prick between his legs.’

I smiled at her crude turn of phrase, and she laughed out loud.

‘What do you think?’

‘I think two years is a long time, and the King will be furious! But if that’s what you want, then that’s what we will do. You must write it in your own hand and seal it. Lothar and Eadmer will deliver the messages, but they must not be captured. I fear they would be tortured to reveal your whereabouts.’