The Once and Future Camelot Read online

  A slight smile curved her lips. I wondered if she knew what I was thinking and so I changed my mind and said, “All right then, I confess I sensed the presence of the pool before I could actually see it, but that’s all. My mother might have seen visions when she looked into the pool at her priory, as did I on occasion, but there are no visions here, nor do I look for them. I am not my mother, nor will I risk her sort of meddling for I know how much harm it can do. I’ve already told you that I want nothing to do with magic or any magical practice except as a means to find my husband. I will not try to influence anyone or anything so if that is why you’re here, please don’t waste your breath trying to persuade me, for I will not change my mind.”

  “You must, Marie. There is a young woman and, sooner or later, I’m hoping that she will somehow make contact with you, or you with her, for she has your mother’s gift – and yours too, if only you would acknowledge it. Your task is to persuade her to reconcile with her family before it’s too late. The future depends on it.”

  “No, my lady. I am not my mother. I will not seek to change anyone’s life other than my own.”

  I folded my arms then, and waited for her to go. But she tried once more to change my mind. “You should also tell her that there are secret ways to the Otherworld, and she must find one. Truly, it is important, Marie.”

  I turned away, determined not to hear any more from her. She swept past me then, but paused at the door for one last comment. “If you think about what lies ahead, I hope that you may change your mind,” she said. “But if you will not, then I must speak to Aline. She’s young, but she also has the gift. And I know that she will obey me in this.” Before I could respond, the door closed behind her and she was gone.

  Was she really prepared to show Aline those horrifying visions of the destruction of London? The thought sent a shaft of terror through my heart, but I was furiously angry too. I have to get out of here! I knew Viviane would find me eventually, but fear overrode rational thought. I hurried from the parlor to the shelter of the small room I shared with my daughter.

  Aline was busy with Sister Emma, the novice mistress, so I had the room to myself. I pulled down a soft cloth bag and, with shaking hands, began to cram it full of clothes. My one thought was to flee, at least for a time, in the hope that Viviane would give up her mission and not send me – or Aline – any more visions, for I was quite sure that this was of her doing, designed to bend me to her will. I didn’t know what she hoped to achieve, but I was absolutely positive that I wanted nothing to do with her plans and schemes, nor would I allow my daughter to be influenced by her.

  Once I’d finished packing the bag, I went to find the prioress to let her know we were leaving. “Just for a few weeks,” I said, when she expressed her dismay that Aline’s lessons would be disrupted. “I … I need to visit the king’s court at … at Oxford.”

  It was said on the spur of the moment, but on thinking it over it seemed a good idea. I had finished scribing my lais and had bound them in two books, intending to give one to the king and the other to the queen when next our paths crossed. I had heard that Henry had sent Eleanor back across the sea to keep an eye on their duchies there while he was busy subduing the Welsh, which he was doing with undue cruelty and brutality, if the reports we’d heard here at the abbey were correct. The latest report said that the king was now in Oxford. If I made haste I might be in time to catch him before, restless as ever, he moved on elsewhere. And so I returned to my bedchamber to retrieve the book of lais with its inscription to the king, determining that at some later date I would seek out Eleanor and present her with her favorite lais for her own private pleasure.

  That done, I fetched Aline from the cloister where, along with the young oblates in the priory, she was busy scratching out on a wax tablet the short paragraph from the Rule of St. Benedict that had been read out in Chapter in the morning, and that was the lesson for the day for all to ponder.

  Aline, needless to say, was delighted at the reprieve from her lessons and excited at the promise of seeing once more the court we’d left behind some two years earlier. And so, after borrowing a mount for her from the priory, and reclaiming my own palfrey, we set off traveling north from Glastonbury towards Oxford. Keeping us company was an escort whom the abbess insisted should accompany us, and in truth I was glad of his presence. Since my travails in the forest of Broceliande, I was fearful of traveling alone, my anxiety now doubled by the presence of my daughter. I knew that I would do anything to keep her safe from harm. As we rode along beside him, I wondered if I could have had the courage to do what my mother had done, sending Aline off into the unknown without me. And the answer was a resounding “no.”

  *

  Once we arrived at Oxford and were ensconced at Henry’s court, it felt almost as if I’d never been away. There was the same hustle and bustle, and the usual rumors and tattle were flying around, although Meg was no longer there to pass them on. I missed her, but heard news that she and Alan were happily married and had settled at their new manor, and that she already had a son and was expecting another child. I was pleased for her, although the other news my new informant passed on to me filled me with misgivings. Despite the autumn chill, we’d been strolling in the garden, taking the air, when Jane gave me a nudge.

  “See that young woman over there?” I followed the direction of her pointing finger, and saw a young beauty with fair curls cascading loose over a very becoming rose pink gown. She was seated on a turf bench, and it seemed to me that she was well aware that she was the cynosure of everyone’s gaze. “That’s Rosamund Clifford, the king’s latest mistress. She’s known as ‘the Fair Rosamund’ or ‘rosa mundi,’ rose of the world, and the king is absolutely besotted with her. She accompanies him everywhere. And you can see she is well aware of her favored position here.” Jane’s voice had soured at the observation, but I could see what she meant. The young woman seemed very well aware of her beauty, for she constantly fiddled with her hair, or her dress, or rearranged herself on the turf bench so that courtiers could glimpse her ankles and pretty rose pink shoes.

  “It is as well my lady is in Angers so she is not here to see the king’s betrayal, and how his mistress has stepped so willingly into her place.”

  “But perhaps she should return, and put a stop to it?” My vinegary tone matched that of my companion.

  “She cannot for she has just given birth there, to another daughter. Joanna. She will not be able to travel for some time. Besides, it might be better to let the affair run its course and burn itself out.” Jane sounded troubled as she continued, “The king has had many affairs before now, and I am sure my lady has been aware of every one of them. But this is different. The king has professed his love for Rosamund, so I am told by her tiring woman. I fear that if, or when, my lady returns it might well lead to a confrontation. And if it does … it could be that the queen will be the loser.”

  “But she is the queen. Nothing and no one can take that away from her,” I objected.

  “The king can sue for a divorce on the grounds of consanguinity. My Lady Eleanor herself gained a divorce from her first husband, Louis, for that same reason, yet her blood tie with Henry is even closer. It’s dangerous ground to tread.” As we’d been talking, we’d come closer to Rosamund. I noticed, with a jolt of alarm, that the king was also approaching her. The crowd around her was parting to give him way. I hurriedly caught Jane’s arm to steer her in a different direction.

  “I suppose my lady could always be persuaded to go into retreat at a nunnery instead?” Jane continued her train of thought.

  I snorted with laughter. “You think someone as high-spirited as the queen would ever give up her lands and all her power to go meekly into an abbey so that the king could marry her rival?”

  “Put like that, no.” Jane smiled in agreement. “But it seems that this might be the first Christmas they will spend apart since they were wed. Henry will be celebrating it with the ‘rose of the world’ instead. An
d unfortunately Becket isn’t here to bring him to his senses either. Henry used to listen to him once.”

  “He’s still in hiding overseas then?” I’d heard how Becket had fled the court and had sought sanctuary with King Louis Capet in France.

  “Yes. He’s even petitioned Pope Alexander to excommunicate Henry. You should have seen the king’s reaction to that news! Shouting and swearing, tearing his clothes and throwing himself about.” Jane shook her head. “He acts worse than his children, sometimes.” Hugging herself, she gave her arms a quick rub. “Brrr, it’s cold. Let’s go in.”

  The day was drawing to an early close and the wind was chill as we retraced our steps to seek the warmth of the fire in the Great Hall. I noticed that the trees were almost bare, their once bright leaves lying brown and soggy in corners where they’d escaped the attention of the gardeners, although a few berries still gave some color to the somber scene. Where once flowers had bloomed there was now only dark earth awaiting a spring planting; even hardy flowering shrubs were being cut right back so that they looked like nothing more than a brush of dead sticks. The garden seemed a harbinger of things to come, and I shivered, but not with cold.

  It seemed that the king was too busy with affairs of state to make time to see me. “Affairs of the bed, more like,” Jane giggled, when I complained to her of the delay. It was not entirely unwelcome, however, for it gave me a chance to reintroduce Aline to the courtiers and show her another way of living. It also gave me a chance to hear the stories told by other troubadours and traveling jongleurs. I was sometimes amused but more often annoyed to hear my own lais repeated, usually with embellishments that were completely at odds with my original intention. But I heard some new stories too, and I listened to them with interest for several touched also on the court of King Arthur. It was obvious that Arthur and his knights were still a favorite topic at court, but the stories were about people who were strangers to me. The tale of Tristan and the fair Iseult was of particular interest, telling as it did the story of the love between two people who, unknowingly, drank a love potion which set them on a course that led to ruin, for Iseult was promised to Tristan’s uncle, King Mark of Cornwall. The tale had strange echoes of what I’d been told about my grandmother, Igraine, and the magic Merlin had practiced in order that my own grandfather be killed so that King Uther could take his place in my grandmother’s bed. But I’d also overheard whispered conjecture about a trick played by my own mother; a potion that had led to the love between Guenevere and Launcelot, my father, and that had led, inevitably, to the doom of Camelot.

  As I listened to the story of Tristan and Iseult, and their love for each other, an image came to mind: an image of honeysuckle twined around a hazel tree, knitted together in life but dying if separated. Others had taken my lais and refashioned them into their own stories; therefore so too could I. With that image fresh in my mind, I resolved to write my own lai around the story of the two lovers.

  But these stories also reminded me that others, as well as myself, might have managed to cross into Camelot, and perhaps Otherworlds too, for how else would they know these new tales? So I did some discreet questioning whenever the opportunity arose, hoping to hear of other ways to cross between the worlds. I was afraid to go back to Glastonbury lest Viviane find me there, and carry out her threat to ask Aline to do what I would not: interfere in people’s lives through magic. I would find another path to follow if I could. But all my questions met with blank incomprehension.

  At last I was summoned to see the king. With Aline by my side, I presented him with the bound book I’d written for him, giving him a pretty speech about my gratitude for his support in my literary endeavors, although I found it hard to be civil after I saw that the fair Rosamund was seated beside the king.

  “Please pass on my greetings to your gracious Queen,” I said, disapproval making me bold. “And my felicitations on the birth of your new daughter, sire. Truly you and the queen have been blessed to have so many fine children.” And I couldn’t resist adding, “I am ever grateful to her gracious majesty for her charity in taking me in and giving me and my child shelter when I was most in need.”

  “You entertained us with your stories, Marie.” The king’s tone was gruff; I knew I’d overstepped the mark. Nevertheless I found the courage to continue.

  “It is my intention to present the queen with her own copy of my lais when next she comes to court, sire.”

  The king grunted. “If you’re so grateful, perhaps you will entertain us with one of your lais after dinner? You might have a new one, something I haven’t heard before.” While couched as a request, I could recognize an order when I heard one. I bowed my head and sank into a submissive curtsy before them both.

  “You may leave us.” The king dismissed me with a curt wave of his hand. I bowed myself out of his presence, all the while fuming inwardly. The young woman had sat through my speech without listening to a word of it, I felt sure, for she was all a-wriggle with inspecting her nails, flicking her curls and generally making her presence felt. And Henry’s hand had strayed to hers, to touch, to stroke, to gently pinch the skin on her arm. I was beginning to feel enormous concern for Eleanor, abed with her seventh child while her husband so openly flaunted his mistress before the court. At the same time I was mentally reviewing my lais, wondering if one or other of them might be adapted to the present situation. I would have to be careful, of course, for I’d already raised the king’s ire. Nevertheless my loyalty to the queen prompted me to say something, do something to remind the king where his duty lay. Having a mistress was one thing. Humiliating and demeaning his wife was something else again. I had some thinking to do, and not much time in which to prepare myself.

  *

  “Tonight I shall tell you the lai of Equitan, a courtly man, the lord of Nauns, a magistrate and king,” I began, once dinner was over.

  The court settled into silence as I told the gathering of Equitan’s grace and nobility, and his many accomplishments. From the courtiers’ sidelong glances at the king, I knew they were matching my words to Henry. Although that was my intention, my courage failed somewhat as I glanced at the king, who had obviously jumped to the same conclusion. And his expression darkened into a glower as I praised the beauty of his trusted seneschal’s wife and told how the king lusted after her. I’d thought to disguise my tale sufficiently by switching the character of wronged wife to wronged husband, and perhaps it was only Henry’s conscience that led him to the truth behind my tale. The rest of the court listened happily enough as I went on to detail the plans made by the two lovers to kill the faithless wife’s husband, the seneschal, so that the king could fulfil his promise to marry her and make her his queen.

  “The king requested that his trusted seneschal bathe with him. To that end his lover had two baths prepared, one for the king and one for her husband. But she had her husband’s tub filled with boiling water,” I continued. “While the lovers waited for the lady’s husband to arrive, they took their pleasure together, leaving a maiden to guard the door. On his arrival the seneschal gave the door such a violent blow that it was forced open, whereupon he discovered his wife and the king in each other’s arms. Rather than be found out, but by mistake, the king jumped into the tub containing the boiling water that had been prepared for his mistress’s husband. And so he was scalded to death.”

  I stopped at the sound of a sudden roar. “By God’s breath I will not listen to any more of this!” Henry’s voice was accompanied by the scraping of his chair as it was thrust back. Glowering and red-faced with displeasure, the king threw down his napkin and stalked out, followed by his companions at the high table, including Rosamund. At once everyone rose from their own chairs and I waited to see if they would follow him out. But the startled hubbub that had ensued was not accompanied by any movement to depart, and was quickly hushed as I began to speak once more. There was a scraping and a rustling as people resumed their seats, and I continued with my lai, for I wanted the court t
o hear how it ended, even if the king’s conscience had sent him out of the hall.

  “The king jumped into the tub, feet first and completely naked. He didn’t stop to think of the danger, and so he was caught in his own evil snare, while the seneschal remained safe and sound.”

  I had everyone’s full attention by now as I came towards the conclusion.

  “Seeing what had happened to the king, the seneschal seized his wife, and thrust her headfirst into the same tub. Thus they both died, the king first, and the faithless wife after him.” And I couldn’t resist adding a last word. “If you listen to reason, you may profit from this cautionary tale, for evil may rebound on him who seeks another’s ill …”

  The rest of my words were lost in the scraping of benches as the courtiers, torn between their loyalty to the king and their fascination with my story, finally chose to act in their best interests, and hurried away.

  I smiled to myself. I had done what I could to plant the seed; I could do no more. But, to my dismay, I soon realized that I could not stay on at court either. It was clear that my welcome was now well and truly worn out after the king sent a message asking what plans I had to leave. Aline and I departed the next day. There were no words of farewell. I knew it would be a long time before I would be received at court once more, if ever. It seemed I had no choice but to return to the priory, and take my daughter with me. Which left me only one way I might avoid Viviane’s trap: I would have to complete the secret way through the garden as quickly as possible, so we could disappear into another world before she could find us.