Before allowing himself the luxury of sleep, Robert knelt by his straw pallet, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands in prayer. From the fullness of his heart, he offered up his thanks to God for all the blessings showered on him, praying to be kept free of the driving spur of ambition, asking only to be made worthy of his great good fortune.
Outside the pavilion Brian FitzCount, wide awake, gazed up at the harvest moon. He wondered what Robert would say if he told him that he thought Maud the loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on, and that she stirred his blood and piqued his interest as no woman ever had. Cool and detached, Brian was aware that he had rarely given his wholehearted affection to anyone other than the King, Robert, and Stephen, and never his heart.
Unlike Robert, he did not look forward to returning to England, to his dull wife and his childless castle at Wallingford. But his duty lay with the King and where the King went, Brian followed. Brian was a bastard son of the King’s old friend, Count Alan of Brittany, and Henry had taken Brian in as a child, educated him, married him to a Saxon heiress, and made him castellan of Wallingford Castle. Brian knew how much he owed his benefactor, and never begrudged the King his years of selfless service.
He sat down on the ground, his back against a tree, his lute propped between his knees. As Brian’s fingers idly plucked the strings his thoughts returned to the oath he and Robert had sworn and to the King’s strange ramblings. When the most likely explanation finally came to him, he was stunned: Jesu, the King, despairing of ever having a legitimate son, meant to make his daughter his heir! Instantly Brian rejected the thought. It was impossible; without precedent, unheard of. In England no woman had ever inherited the throne, not even in Saxon times. The King could not intend such folly. On the other hand, that would explain the oaths. It would certainly explain why Maud, her husband barely cold in his grave, had been recalled so hastily from Germany. Instinct told Brian that if what he suspected was true, Maud was as ignorant of her father’s plans as everyone else.
A guard walked by and raised a hand in greeting. What would the man say, Brian wondered, if he told him his suspicions? Laugh, no doubt, and claim Brian the worse for wine. He could not imagine either the commonfolk or the magnates allowing the King to go through with such a scheme. And yet, in all his years with King Henry, Brian had never seen him fail in his purpose, nor falter in his intent. Whatever the cost, he was relentless in pursuing his goals. Well before Brian’s time there were incidents to chill the blood. He let his thoughts rove backwards in time, remembering the tales he had heard, not spoken of openly, but whispered in dark corners.
At the death of William the Conqueror, thirty-eight years ago, Henry’s eldest brother, Robert, became Duke of Normandy. His second brother, William Rufus, became King of England. Henry, the youngest, was bequeathed silver but no land. In 1100, thirteen years later, King William Rufus was killed, hit by a chance arrow while hunting in the New Forest. His timely death—then or now no one believed it an accident—had proved most expedient for his younger brother. Whether Henry’s hand had drawn the bow or he had arranged for another to do it, the result was the same: King William Rufus was dead; Henry was able to seize the throne without opposition.
Six years later he had crossed the channel, attacked his brother, Duke Robert of Normandy, defeated him in battle, then took the duchy for himself. But he had not killed his eldest brother, choosing instead to imprison the former duke in a Welsh fortress, where the unfortunate wretch remained to this day. Thus both Normandy and England were again united under the control of a single ruler, as they had been in the Conqueror’s time.
These were but two in a long life crowded with similar incidents, which made King Henry neither better nor worse than many another monarch in Europe, but gave every indication that, by one means or another, what he wanted he would have.
If the King did indeed mean to force his daughter on an unsuspecting nobility, then he was making a grave error, Brian thought, one that would cost the land dear after his death. However, it would take a braver man than himself to tell that to his sovereign. He wondered what Maud’s reaction would be when she found out what lay in store for her, and Stephen’s response when he discovered that he would be supplanted by the woman he found so appealing.
Chapter Eleven
England, 1125
A WEEK LATER, SURROUNDED by a dense fog, Maud stood at the ship’s rail eagerly awaiting her first glimpse of land. As the ship bobbed in the swells, she suddenly pitched forward, clutching the rail for support. From behind her a hand reached out to grasp her shoulder.