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‘And what concern of mine should this be that I must be awakened at an early hour of the morning to learn of it?’
The hour was not early but the fellow dared not contradict.
‘I believe you would wish to know, my lord, that he was slain by a friend of Edgar Atheling because he said that he was raising up a family who would try to take the crown.’
Rufus nodded slowly.
‘So this man was slain by a friend of the Atheling. He has good friends, has he not? And indeed so have I for they bring me news when they think I should know it.’
The man smiled slowly and Rufus broke into loud laughter.
‘Brave man,’ he said.
‘To take up the cause of the Atheling, my lord, ‘tis so.’
‘Nay!’ roared Rufus. ‘You are a brave man to disturb me from my rest. You know my temper. ‘Tis not of its best at this hour, man.’
But his humour was good. He was pleased with the fellow.
He wanted to think about this Atheling and his family. A young boy deprived of his crown by a usurping bastard; and the family taking refuge in England. Edgar was brave to come here where many would say he had more right to the throne than William Rufus.
Edgar was not a coward; he had always known that; but he was not a fighter either.
There was one thing that was certain. Edgar had not come to England to claim the crown. How could he? He had no army. All the same it would not be a bad idea to keep him occupied.
He decided he would send for Edgar Atheling.
* * * * *
Edgar came in answer to his summons.
They took stock of each other. He has grown coarser, thought Edgar. But he had always been coarse with his red face, thick form, his rather stuttering speech and his ma
Very handsome, these Saxons, thought Rufus. Some of them are good fighters though. I remember Harold’s coming to my father’s court when he was made to swear away his kingdom over the bones of dead saints. There was a handsome man, but a fighter too. Edgar was not that, but no coward. A dreamer more like. Another such as Robert.
‘So Edgar you have brought your sister’s brood here.’
‘And grateful we are for your hospitality.’
‘Well if I denied it where else would you have gone? To Normandy?’
‘I had wondered whether I should throw myself on Robert’s mercy.’
‘Robert is not my good friend at this time, Edgar. You know he fancied he would like my crown...or rather his barons did.
Robert is too indolent to fancy much but extravagant living.’
‘You wrong him, William.’
‘You were always his special friend. But they were good times we had together, eh, Edgar? The trouble with my brothers and myself is that we’re a fighting brood. Robert wants what I have. I confess I should not mind having what Robert has and Henry would like what we both have. What can you expect with a father such as ours?’
‘He was one of the greatest men the world has known.’
‘Ay to that, but an uncomfortable one, Edgar. Though in the latter years he and I grew close. After Richard died he took me into his confidence. He was determined to make a king of me and I was determined to be one—and to remain one—that worked well. But, Edgar, I have not brought you here to talk of the past but of the future. What of these nephews and nieces of yours?’
‘As you know, William, Donald Bane has snatched the crown of Scotland.’
‘And the poor little rightful king is too young to make an attempt to regain it.’
‘Too young and too poor.’
‘Well, he has an uncle who is not so young.’
‘But poor, William.’
Rufus burst into loud laughter.
‘Well, we shall see, we shall see. There are girls I believe of marriageable age?’
‘They are over-young as yet. Edith, the eldest, is not yet sixteen.’
‘What do you propose to do with them?’
‘I had hoped you would give your consent for them to be educated in an abbey with the nuns.’
‘You don’t propose they should take the veil?’
Edgar shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘Who would wish to marry dowerless princesses?’
‘Their coffers may be empty, Edgar, but their veins are furnished with good royal Saxon blood.’
‘‘Tis true. Their parents dead though, their brother dispossessed, themselves pe
‘You tell a doleful tale. Is not their aunt the Abbess of Rumsey?’
‘That is so.’
‘Well then, Edgar, that takes care of the girls. Let them go to their aunt and when the time comes we shall see whether it will be the marriage bed or the nun’s veil for them.’
‘William, I was certain I could rely on your friendship.’
‘The younger ones may go to Rumsey too until plans are made for them. But it is your Edgar of whom we must think. There is a young King without a crown. This Donald Bane is a man who holds a high opinion of himself, I am told. He has displaced a young boy who had just become an orphan and who had no army behind him. He has installed himself in his castle and prates of marching below the border to harry my good subjects. You would have thought that which happened to his predecessor would have warned him, would you not, Edgar?’
‘As I warned Malcolm.’
‘Ay, you were always a cautious man, Edgar. I have a proposal. What if I provided troops and placed you and young Edgar at the head of them and you marched into Scotland and displaced this traitor?’
‘You would do that, William!’
‘I would like to see this young Edgar. If I had as high an opinion of him as I have of his uncle, I might well do that. I want this Donald Bane put down, Edgar. And when I have set young Edgar on the throne I shall expect him to be a good friend to me. He will swear fealty to me. He will be a good vassal; then there will be peace between me and the King of Scotland.’
Edgar’s eyes were gleaming. Rufus of course would want repayment for his help. That was natural. But it was far better for Edgar to be restored as King of Scotland, even though he was also vassal to the King of England, than to wander about the world stateless as Edgar Atheling had done for so many years.
The pact was concluded.
Edgar should have the chance to regain his kingdom and when he did he would always be grateful to the King of England.
* * * * *
The Abbess received the children in her sanctum. The stone flags were cold to the feet and there was no furniture, only a board on trestles and a rough stool on which the abbess sat.
The children stood before her while her cold stern gaze flickered over them.
The eldest, Edith, was the most handsome, she decided. Therefore she would need the most correction. Her hair was in two thick plaits and as one of these hung over her shoulder, the Abbess Christina assured herself that her niece had placed it there for adornment and must be cured of the cardinal sin of vanity.
Pray remove that object. It disgusts me.’ said Christina, staring at her niece.
Edith had no idea to what she referred and stammered: ‘I do not understand …’
‘That piece of hair which you have wantonly placed where you think it will be admired. Hide it, I say.’
Edith flushed and taking the plait threw it over her shoulder where it could no longer offend the Abbess.
‘You will learn how we deal with vanity here,’ she said. ‘We pray that it shall be taken from us and if it is not it is whipped out of us.’
‘I was not meaning to show my hair. I …’
‘Silence.’ said Christina. ‘We do not excuse our follies. We admit them and pray for the power to cast them out. They are devils that possess us and need to be exorcised.’
Edith silently prayed that Uncle Edgar would return and take them away from this cold unfriendly place and this hostile woman. But she knew that she prayed in vain. It had been her mother’s wish that their Aunt Christina should care for them. Could their kind and gentle mother have known how harsh a life of religion had made her sister?