The Lion of Justice

Here was his cell. He looked about him for the torturer.

Not my eyes, he thought. Anything but my eyes. It was a lesson to him. If he had left with a little he might be safe now. But he had been greedy and he had hesitated too long in an effort to salvage too much.

He was alone, apprehensive.

His jailer unlocked the cell and stood before him. Ranulf noticed at once that he was a little more deferential than was to be expected in such circumstances. There were no irons in his hand.

‘You are not to be fettered,’ said the jailer.

Ranulf’s spirits rose immediately.

‘You will be allowed two shillings a day so that you may be supplied with wine for your comfort.’

‘On whose orders?’ he asked.

‘Those in high places,’ said the jailer. ‘Is there anything you could wish for your comfort?’

Ranulf asked for clean straw, and a stool.

These were brought to him.

He was almost elated. The King might well wish to use him. Henry was proving himself to be a man who did not want vengeance unless such would bring him benefit.

Henry had a clear incisive mind. Ranulf could appreciate that. They were not dissimilar.

To have sent Ranulf to the White Tower was the most popular move Henry could have made. He now set about making the second.

He rode in person to Wilton Abbey.

The Abbess received him. She must do so with deference for he was now the King.

Pray send the Princess Edith to me,’ he commanded.

She hesitated and his anger rose—not the quick choleric temper of his brother and father but the cold kind which was equally deadly.

‘My lord King, the Princess has already taken her vows.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘It is so, my lord.’

‘Send for her,’ thundered the King.

The Abbess pretended to look bewildered. ‘It is against the laws of Wilton...against the laws of God.’

‘To refuse would be against the King’s law,’ cried Henry. ‘By God, woman, do you want me to sack the place?’

The Abbess shook her head and said that she would bring the Princess but she greatly feared the consequences.

Edith came into the hall accompanied by two nuns.

Henry strode towards her, took her hands in his and kissed them fiercely.

Then he turned to the nuns. ‘Go,’ he cried. And to the Abbess: ‘And you with them, Madam. Remember what I threatened and remember too that I am your King.’

The Abbess obeyed; the nuns followed her trembling.

‘I have come to claim you,’ he cried.

‘I have long awaited that day,’ she answered.

‘The Abbess says that you have taken the veil.’

‘I have not. I swear I have not.’

‘I rejoice, for had you done so our marriage might well have been impossible.’

‘I swear to you that it is not so. I wore the robes because she was so cruel if I did not. But I hated them. I have always hated them. And I determined to be free for you.’

He kissed her.

‘I could die for very happiness,’ she said. ‘I did not know it could exist and be so great.’

‘You have much to learn, my love.’ He led her to the window seat and they sat with his arm about her.

‘We are to be married without delay. The people want it. They are delighted that I have chosen a Saxon princess. There is a strong Norman element in the country who will be against it, but we shall snap our fingers at them as you have just seen me to do the old Abbess.’

‘How happy I am that I held her off.’

‘She is a virago. She even attempted to defy me.’

‘So you are indeed the King.’

‘Ay, and determined soon to have a queen. We’ll give them a prince by this time next year. What say you?’

She flushed a little. ‘You must forgive my ignorance. I have lived all my life it seems in an abbey.’

‘I would have it so.’ He thought of Nesta then, warm sensuous Nesta, who had had many lovers beside himself and was the most exciting woman he had ever known. He hoped Edith would not be frigid. Although there might be some variety in that—but only temporarily. Poor child, she had a great deal to learn about life and about him.

‘I know that you wish to see your own children,’ she said.

And he thought: By God, I have seen many of them. Nesta would have another by now.

‘And I shall do my best to please you.’

‘You could not fail to do that,’ he said and jeered at himself for the lie.

Well, she would grow up. She would learn about men’s ways and his in particular. Men such as he was did not reach the age of thirty-two without a great deal of sexual experience and that meant children. How many of his were scattered about England and Normandy? Too many to be counted, he supposed. He hoped she would not be over-shocked when she heard it said that he had fathered more children than any known man.

But these thoughts were of no help. He now had to woo her, for the people wanted this marriage and it would be as popular as sending Ranulf to the White Tower had been.

‘I shall send a retinue for you and you will leave the Abbey,’ he said. ‘As soon as can be arranged our wedding shall take place. You will be crowned Queen of England.’

‘I ca

He took her face in his hands. He was suddenly sorry for her. She would indeed be Queen of England but her dreams were too rosy.

He was tender suddenly as he knew well how to be. She was not unattractive. Had she not been a princess...well then he would not have wanted more than a transitory encounter. But when did he ever? It was only women with overwhelming fascination like Nesta, who could hold him for long. But marriage with Edith would consolidate his position. And if she so clearly adored him, the people would like that too. It would add to the image he wanted to create that he was a benign man, a peaceful man, a man who would govern well, his kingdom and his family. They would have heard rumours of his profligacy. They had taken them lightly because they preferred scandals concerning women to those of men with which Rufus had supplied them.

Edith was going to be a great help to him.

‘There is one point over which you may hesitate,’ he told her.

‘I ca

‘There are many Normans in this country who will deplore our marriage because of your Saxon descent. I wish to please all my subjects where that is possible. As Edith the Saxon Princess you will delight the Saxons. If we could change your name to Matilda the Normans might forget your Saxon origins and be pleased with the match. It would be a compliment to my mother who was greatly admired. Would you do this?’

‘Most gladly,’ she cried. ‘From this moment I will become Matilda.’

‘My dearest Matilda, how I adore you. I can see the happiest husband and wife in my kingdom will the King and Queen.’

He embraced her with a fervour which alarmed yet delighted her.

Then he departed, telling her to be in readiness to leave, for soon he would be sending for her.

* * * * *

The Abbess came to Edith’s cell. Her eyes were blazing.

‘You know,’ she cried, ‘that you ca

‘I am going to marry the King.’ answered the Princess.

‘The Church will never allow it. You are a nun. Nuns are the brides of Christ. They can never marry.’

‘I have never taken the vows.’

‘You have accepted the robes. You have lived the life of a nun for years. I shall never allow this marriage to take place.’

‘You will defy the King?’

‘The Church will do that.’

‘You were very harsh when I was alone and unprotected. You can be so no longer. The King will take care of me for ever more.’

‘I tell you this: You will never marry the King. I am making it known that you are a bride of Christ.’

‘Then you lie, Aunt Christina.’

‘I am saving your soul, you foolish girl.’

‘I am going to be what God intended me to be—a wife and mother.’