The Fatal Crown(7)
Still wiping the blood from his nose and face, Henry approached his mother. “If Stephen wants to leave Blois, then send him away as he asks. Let him go to our uncle in England.”
Theo and Cicily turned to stare at their brother. Adela’s face slowly returned to its normal color as she looked at her youngest son.
“Why would I wish to inflict this monster upon my brother Henry?”
“As a punishment, Madam, of course,” he replied. “He deserves to be banished. Surely our uncle would teach Stephen manners, courtesy, discipline, all those things you so rightly complain about. He would learn respect and obedience at the King of England’s court.”
Unable to believe his good fortune, Stephen looked from his mother to his brother. “England? You would send me to England?” He could not keep a note of elation from his voice.
“You don’t mean to say you want to go?” his mother asked in a steely voice, her eyes narrowing. “In that case—”
“Of course he doesn’t want to go, do you, Stephen?” Henry interjected hastily, shooting him a warning look. “He would really hate to leave Blois, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” he mumbled.
His mother’s face cleared. “Well, then, I think it an excellent idea. But this will be your last chance, Stephen. If you don’t make something of yourself at my brother’s court, I wash my hands of you. You won’t be welcome in Blois again.”
Dismissing him, Adela turned to Henry. “A good thought, my son. Always so clever.” She patted him absently on the head. “I shall inform King Henry this very day.”
A servant came running into the hall carrying a whip.
“What is that for? Take it back to the stables.” She stalked majestically out of the great hall followed by Theo and Cicily.
England, Stephen repeated to himself, I’m to go to England. Infinitely relieved at the prospect of leaving Blois and his violent-tempered mother, who clearly preferred his brothers to himself, he looked wonderingly at Henry, the cause of this unexpected reprieve.
“Thank you, Brother,” he said. “You’ve done me a good service this day.”
His brother gave him an affectionate smile. “I hope you’ll remember it. When I complete my studies at the monastery I expect to join you in England. By then you must see to it that our uncle has arranged a good position for me in the church.”
Stephen nodded. He hadn’t the faintest idea how he would accomplish what Henry wanted, but there was time enough to find a way. As always, he found himself impressed—and slightly disquieted—by the artful manner in which Henry so easily manipulated their irascible mother.
Four weeks later Stephen left Blois to set sail for England. Although he was happy to be going, he knew he would never forget that Henry had been sent from home with honor, as a reward, while he was leaving in disgrace, as a punishment.
There was a sudden shout of warning as Maud’s litter almost collided with a young boy coming from the other direction. Startled, Maud looked up. Honey-colored waves of hair spilled out from under a scarlet cap perched jauntily on his head. The boy’s handsome face, streaked with dust, turned swiftly in her direction. Dazzling green eyes flecked with gold—cat’s eyes—met her gray ones in a long curious stare. Just before his horse rounded the corner, a smile touched his lips. He whipped off his cap, bowing his head to her. Then he and the other riders were lost to view.
Maud lay back in the litter. So that was her difficult cousin, Stephen of Blois. For a moment the boy’s image, clear as a brush stroke on vellum, stayed in her mind. A wave of emotion she could not identify washed over her, rousing her briefly from the depths of her anguish. She shivered, as if a wolf had walked over her grave, a premonition of trouble, Aldyth would say. Then the feeling passed; the boy’s image faded. Misery again settled over her like a shroud. One life was over; a new life not yet born.
Chapter Two
Germany, 1111
IT WAS EARLY MAY before Maud reached the German city of Mainz where she had been told the emperor would meet her. But when they arrived at the cheerless stone palace at the hour of Vespers he had not yet arrived. Instead, she was greeted by a group of stiff middle-aged men dressed in somber colors of gray and dark brown, and a brittle thin woman with a face like a hatchet and a faint mustache across her upper lip. She wore a dark gray tunic, a white wimple covered her head, and she regarded Maud with a severe expression. Graf von Hennstien, her escort from England, had disappeared along with everyone else in her party, including Aldyth. No one explained anything and when Maud asked a question they replied in German, which she did not understand.