The Devil’s Diadem by Sara Douglass

‘And, no, there are no other servants of hell sitting about Europe. I am the only one.’

‘Somewhere in there you are lying,’ Edmond said.

‘I can smell it. But where? Where?’

‘I tell only the truth,’ Raife said.

Edmond grunted.

‘I have a question,’ I said, suddenly, and both men looked at me in surprise, as if they had forgot my presence. ‘What is hell like, Raife?’

He looked at me a long time before answering. ‘I cannot speak of it,’ he said eventually.

‘It is too terrible.’

‘And yet you would drag me there,’ I said, softly.

‘Trust me, you say.’

‘And I say it again, Maeb. Trust me, if you love me.’

‘Enough,’ said Edmond. ‘All I wish is to see you gone, and I wager that Maeb wants much the same. I cannot attempt to rebuild this realm until I know it will not be devastated over and over again. It is in all of our interests, Raife, to see you gone and this damned diadem with you.

‘Maeb.’ Edmond turned to me. ‘You are connected with this diadem, somehow, I have no doubt. It must be through your father.’

I repressed a sigh.

‘Let us suppose,’ Edmond said, ‘that your father brought the diadem home with him from Jerusalem. You say you have no knowledge of it, and I do not disbelieve you. Yet, somehow, you do seem to have the diadem or at least brought it in some manner to London.’

‘I have never seen it,’ I said, wearily.

‘Be that as it may,’ Edmond said, ‘who else on your father’s estate might your father have confided in besides you? Did he have a valet who travelled with him and back? A servant? A groom? Is there a priest on your estate who may have taken confession?’

I thought. ‘My father travelled with a groom-cum-valet,’ I said. ‘His name was Eadgard. A man from the estate. But he did not come home with my father. When I asked, my father said that he had died on the way to the Holy Lands. My father brought no one else home with him.’

‘A priest?’ Edmond said.

‘My father trusted and befriended the old priest,’ I said, ‘who was incumbent when my father left on his pilgrimage. But he died shortly thereafter, and a new, much younger man came to the church as priest. My father tolerated him, but did not overly like him. I cannot imagine that he would have confided in this priest.’

‘Confessed to him?’ Edmond asked.

‘Perhaps,’ I said, somewhat reluctantly.

‘Anyone else on the estate your father was close to?’

‘There is but one person. Our steward, Osbeorn. He was an intolerably lazy steward, but retained the post because my father liked him. They used to spend countless hours together in the evenings dipping their beards into cups of rough wine.’

‘He is still alive?’ Edmond asked.

I nodded. ‘Unless he was carried away when the plague passed through Witenie.’

Edmond rose and shouted for de Warenne, who entered the great hall. ‘de Warenne,’ Edmond said, ‘I need you to travel to Witenie, there to make enquiries about a man named Osbeorn. You will not travel as a lord in your fine tunic and mantle, but as something less … visible. I want no rumour of this spreading about the land. If you find this Osbeorn, bring him back here as speedily as you may.’

De Warenne nodded. ‘He may not trust me, my lord. Is there some token I can take with me that he would trust?’

Edmond made as if to draw off a ring, but I shook my head. ‘He would not know that ring, my lord king, and would suspect that he was being bribed by a wealthy lord into some black action. My Lord de Warenne, if you would accompany me back to my Cornhill house then I will give you something that Osbeorn will recognise as mine. That he will trust.’

I looked to Edmond. ‘If I have my lord’s permission?’

Edmond gave it with a nod.

‘I will also —’ Raife said, rising.

‘I would appreciate it if you stayed here,’ said Edmond. ‘While we are waiting for Osbeorn’s presence you may assist me in planning for the recovery of this realm when —’ he glanced at de Warenne and moderated his words, ‘— when all danger is passed. Maeb, stay within the house, if you may, until I call for you again.’

I stood, dipped in courtesy to the king, and followed de Warenne from the great hall.

I gave de Warenne an item that I knew Osbeorn would recognise, then I sent him on his way.

I waited five days. In those five days I did not see Raife, nor Edmond. Presumably Edmond kept Raife close by him, whether in the Tower or when they were in London. Gytha told me that both had ridden about London on several occasions, inspecting damage, encouraging those who remained.

I was glad I did not have to see Raife, and was still so chilled by the memory of the imp in my own bed that I slept with Gytha in her chamber.

I did see much activity in the streets about Cornhill; there were more people about, mostly men, and also men-at-arms, and I thought that Edmond was bringing the men in to strengthen defences, or to help with rebuilding — or destruction, rather, as mostly, Gytha reported, these men laboured at pulling down dangerous buildings.

I spent these five days going through every single one of my possessions, and then through every chest, pannier, basket, storage vat and pot in the building. I turned everything upside down.

There was nothing. Not a single bead let alone a diadem of immense value.

Once I had done that, I spent my time in the solar, thinking.

I thought of Raife, and our marriage. I thought of the past year or so of my life. Just over a year, and in that time I had moved from the lowest rank of the nobility to the very highest. I had been seized and almost murdered; I had borne a child; I had become intimately involved in a battle with the master of hell himself.

I did not know how this was going to end, nor did I want to think about how it might end. My mind kept playing tricks on me, one moment trying to devise a possibility where Raife was not who he said he was, and where we might continue to live our lives as husband and wife, and the next moment rejecting that as an impossibility in the face of everything Raife had said to me.

I don’t think I wanted to accept that. My mind kept going back to worry over everything Raife had said, trying to find that one reason that would give me hope.

But there was nothing. I could see nothing but bleakness ahead.

I could not sleep. I rejected the food fitzErfast sent to me, and which Ella and Gytha encouraged me to eat.

Everything was coming to a head, I knew it, and knew that somehow Osbeorn, if he still lived, would bring with him the seeds of my destruction.

Perhaps the destruction of my life; certainly of my happiness.

In my most honest moments, I could admit to myself that I didn’t want the diadem to be found, that I wanted Raife and myself to continue as we had before all this horror had surfaced.

But that way, only a continuance of the plague and of death and horror. This had to end, one way or the other.

Either way, I knew, would tear me apart.

On the sixth day after de Warenne had left, a soldier came from the Tower, and told me that Edmond requested my presence.

I closed my eyes momentarily, fighting to control the terrible churning in my belly. Then I opened them, and smiled, and rose.

Chapter Five

Again, there was just Raife and Edmond waiting in the great hall. It was close to evening now, and servants had placed torches on the walls. They threw shadows about the immense chamber, and I felt that danger lurked in every dark, shrouded place.

Raife rose as I came in and came to meet me. He made as if to lean forward and kiss me, but I drew back.

‘Please trust me,’ he whispered. ‘When I ask it of you, trust me.’

His tone stung my heart. If I could have, I would have trusted him, but the thought of that imp rolling over me, grabbing at my flesh, was still too fresh in my mind.

We walked over to the table and sat down. Edmond nodded at me, but did not otherwise speak to me.

Instead, he called for de Warenne to enter.

The man came in through the archway leading to the king’s privy chambers. With him came Osbeorn.

I choked up with tears the instant I saw Osbeorn. He had always been a part of my childhood, a part of that life before now, when all had been innocent. He had been my father’s friend.