The Devil’s Diadem by Sara Douglass

‘Saint Paul’s,’ said Raife as we rode by. ‘It burned down a generation ago and is only slowly being rebuilt. But there is enough there now, a nave and the choir, to worship. One day it will be numbered among the greatest cathedrals of Christendom.’

We rode on. I was amazed by the number of streets, the buildings — both timber and stone — that rose everywhere, the churches, the markets, the warehouses. I had never imagined anywhere so huge! At this time of night, and in this weather, there were few people on the streets, but I imagined that during the day there would be a constant bustle of people. Once past the cathedral we turned onto a long market street — West Cheap, Raife informed me — until eventually we came to a fork where three streets joined with the Cheap. We took the middle street, climbing a gentle hill and then, wonderfully, just over the crest of the hill, we turned into the courtyard of a large stone house and we were at the earl’s home in London.

I was so stiff I could barely move and Raife had to lift me bodily from Dulcette’s back. He held me about the waist on the ground as I tried to get my balance, and only reluctantly let me go when I said I was all right.

The courtyard was a-bustle with men, horses, dogs, and servants emerging out of the house. A man came up to Raife almost immediately, bowing and welcoming him into the house.

‘This is Robert fitzErfast,’ Raife said to me. ‘The house steward.’

‘Welcome, countess,’ fitzErfast said, bowing. ‘Your chamber is ready for you, and a meal if you wish.’

He led us inside, first into a small enclosed porch, then into a hall that, while nowhere near the size of those at Rosseley and Pengraic, was nonetheless commodious with a lovely high ceiling. At the far end of the hall we went through another door, climbed a circular stone staircase, and, after moving through several other chambers and a large solar, finally found ourselves in a spacious privy chamber, its fire blazing and a bed enticingly draped and hung with soft woollens, linens and embroideries.

I sat down on a chair with a thump, pulling off my mantle with tired, jerky movements. ‘I have a woman, Evelyn Kendal,’ I said to fitzErfast. ‘She cannot be far away. Can you have someone find her and send her to me?’

‘Immediately, my lady,’ fitzErfast said, and started for the door. ‘FitzErfast,’ Raife said, just before the steward vanished, ‘send also one of the servants to Westminster Palace to let the king know, either now or when he rises in the morning, of my arrival. I am sure he is well informed anyway, but the servant will be a courtesy.’

FitzErfast hesitated. ‘The king is not at Westminster, my lord earl,’ he said.

‘Not at Westminster? Lord God, fitzErfast, do not tell me we have ridden all this way for naught!’

‘Not at Westminster,’ fitzErfast said, ‘but at the Tower.’

‘The Tower?’ Raife hesitated, staring unbelievingly at fitzErfast for a heartbeat, then he strode over to the chamber’s window and flung open the shutters.

Despite my fatigue, I rose and walked over to see.

There, in the not-so-far distance across some fields, a commanding square tower rose into the night, lights gleaming from behind its narrow slit windows.

‘He has gone to the Conqueror’s Tower,’ muttered Raife. ‘Why? Why?’

Chapter Three

I rose in the pre-dawn darkness, wrapping myself in a soft woollen coverlet as I made my way to the privy set into the thick stone walls of the house. When I came back to bed and slid once more under the warm covers, Raife pulled me close, complaining sleepily about my cold skin. We lay for a while in silence, both of us awake, before Raife spoke.

‘How do you feel this morning, wife?’

‘Better for the night’s rest,’ I said. I hesitated. ‘Do we need to go to court today?’

His arm tightened about me momentarily as he gave me a gentle hug. ‘I will go, but you may stay here and rest if you wish. I will pass onto Edmond your flatteries and excuses.’

I laughed softly. ‘Thank you, husband.’

‘You must eat today.’

‘I will, I promise. A day spent in a chair rather than on Dulcette’s back will work miracles on my appetite.’ I was touched by his kindness (and relieved that I did not have to attend court), and turned over in his arms to kiss him softly.

‘You will delay my attendance at court,’ he murmured.

‘Good,’ I said, and kissed him again, more deeply this time.

Later, when he was dressing, I propped myself up on an elbow and waited until his valet, Charles, had stopped fussing. Raife was garbed in a magnificent tunic, a jewelled sword belt I had not seen before (and with my purse attached to it, I was glad to see), and a mantle of such richness that, had I not been so languid from our travelling, and our early morning love-making, I would have been hard pressed not to have risen from our bed and buried my hands and face in it.

‘What is the Conqueror’s Tower?’ I asked.

Raife sat down in a chair while Charles handed him his shoes. (I had seen none of this clothing before, and thought that Raife must keep it exclusively in this house for court wear.)

‘It is the tower that William the Conqueror had built in the north-east corner of London,’ he said, pulling on one shoe then reaching for the other. ‘You will see it clearly once you have risen and can find the energy to walk to the window.’

His eyes crinkled in amusement as he said this, and I knew we were both thinking of our earlier ardent activity. It had not been easy to find time for love-making during our travels as either I was too fatigued or we shared a chamber with too many others, and to find ourselves once again with the privacy of our own chamber was a luxury we had taken full advantage of. I blessed again Raife’s somewhat unusual habit of not having any of our servants or attendants to sleep at the foot of the bed.

‘And Edmond being there is unusual?’ I asked, remembering Raife’s reaction last night.

‘Yes. It is a great palace, but usually Edmond, as other kings before him, prefers the more commodious palace at Westminster. But the Conqueror’s Tower is far more defensible.’ Raife paused, the final shoe half on, half off. ‘I wonder what he fears …’

He shrugged and pulled the shoe on, then came over and kissed me. ‘I will not stay for the evening’s entertainment, but will be back to sup with you. My worry for you shall be excuse enough for Edmond. Ask fitzErfast to fetch the chest of new clothes I ordered for you — that should keep you and Evelyn happy enough until I return. And rest. And eat.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ I said, and then he was gone, shouting for his knights and companions to accompany him to the Tower.

A few minutes after he left I rose, opening the shutters of the window. I was just in time to see Raife’s party ride out. Thirty or forty strong, it comprised some of Raife’s most senior knights, their squires, and about ten ordinary soldiers. Everyone was dressed in their best, and at the head of the column rode a young man with the Pengraic pennant fluttering from a staff.

Raife rode just behind the young man with the pennant, and I watched until he grew too distant for me to make out his features.

I lifted my eyes to the Tower. It was massive, rising some three levels above ground and composed of grey-brown stone with creamier stones delineating its corners and narrow windows. Four towers rose from each corner: three square and one round. It looked impregnable.

A curtain wall, looking to be of somewhat newer construction than the Tower, ran about it, and a moat outside that.

I looked down. There were mostly fields, dotted with only a few houses, between the Tower and where this house stood just off the crest of Cornhill. A tournament field had been set up in one of the fields closest to the Tower.

I looked for Raife and his escort, and saw them cantering down a track that led through the fields.

He was going to be there in only a few minutes.

I raised my eyes to the Conqueror’s Tower again.

There waited Edmond.

I spent the day quietly, but in a welter of worry for what was happening at court. I remembered Henry’s antagonism for my husband very clearly, as well as Saint-Valery’s words about how Edmond distrusted Raife, and I hoped, quite desperately, that Raife would return safe and well at the end of the day.