Raife had hurried home for what Edmond liked to call his Advent court, some ten days of celebration, hunting, feasting and games before the commencement of Advent on Martinmas. Advent, the weeks leading up to Christmastide, was a quiet time of reflection before the celebration, feasting and fun of the Christmastide court. Edmond, renowned for his hospitality and the cheer and festivity of his Advent and Christmastide courts, expected all of his leading nobles to attend both celebrations.
Today, Hallowmas, was the first day of Advent court. Raife was tired from his hard ride back to London, I was fatigued from the events of the past two days, but nonetheless we rose before dawn, dressed and, without breaking our fast, left the house just as the eastern sky was lightening to ride for the Conqueror’s Tower. Many of the household came with us: Raife’s valet, Charles; Isouda and Evelyn; fitzErfast; many of the knights and squires of Raife’s court; grooms, pages, soldiers, falconers, servants; Raife’s head huntsman Wulfsige; his Master of Horse, Ludo; Raife’s hunting dogs and his three gyrfalcons with their attendants.
To all intents and purposes we were moving our household (or an attenuated version thereof) to the Conqueror’s Tower for Advent court (and as we would also for Christmastide court). Advent court was to be so packed with activities and feasting that running to and fro, often in the dead of night, between the Tower and our house was simply impractical, so Edmond had assigned us generous quarters in one of the new buildings within the inner bailey.
Although I felt weary already at the idea of so much feasting and fun, I was glad to leave the Cornhill house for the time being. While we were gone, Raife had arranged for the prior of the Holy Trinity Priory to bring in priests to bless each room and reconsecrate the chapel.
It would feel clean on our return.
I could not bear the idea of birthing a precious, tiny baby in a house where imps roamed.
When we arrived within the inner bailey we immediately dismounted and left our household to settle us and them into our apartments while Raife and myself entered the Tower. We were greeted by Edmond’s Constable of the Tower, Alan de Bretagne, the Earl of Richemont. He led us directly to Saint John’s Chapel on the top floor of the Tower, where Hallowmas was to be marked with a service, and the participants in today’s planned hunt were to be blessed.
The chapel, ablaze with candle and torchlight, was already crowded, people shuffling and coughing and rubbing hands beneath mantles in the cold air, and I think the crowd was much relieved when Edmond arrived. Prince Henry accompanied him, to my disappointment, for I had hoped he may have found something else to occupy himself this Hallowmas, but I suppose I had to expect him to attend Advent court. Also accompanying Edmond were two younger men, one only a boy, who, by reason of resemblance, were immediately apparent to me as his younger sons, Richard and John. I looked about for Adelaide, Edmond’s queen, but if she, too, was attending Advent court, then the lucky woman must still be snuggled in her bed.
Once mass and prayers and blessings were done, we moved to the great hall, where lay food with which to break our fast. We did not sit down, but rather moved about, picking what we wanted, and supping of small beer and weak ale as we chatted with acquaintances, discussing the day ahead.
There was a buzz of excitement in the hall. Today was to be a festive hunt in the forests to the east of London. Almost all of the court, save the infirm, were to attend. When Raife and I (and our household) had ridden through the outer bailey earlier it had been a bustle of activity as huntsmen, grooms, falconers and houndsmen were moving their charges from stables, kennels and mews into the outer bailey ready for their masters to ride out.
I had never ridden to the hunt before, and was slightly anxious, but excited also.
‘It will be more of a gentle ride through the fields, marshes and forests than a true hunt,’ said Alianor, standing with me, and warmly wrapped in a fur mantle. ‘Can you imagine this lot setting off at a gallop from Ald Gate? We would frighten any game into France within moments!’
‘Then I am certain the men will be disappointed,’ I said, ‘for surely they would relish the opportunity to display their hunting prowess to their lady folk.’
‘They will find something to slaughter,’ Alianor said. ‘No one will enjoy the day until a little blood be spilt. We will ride gently, my dear, in honour of your baby, and at the earliest opportunity will make our excuses and guide our horses to that field chosen for our picnic. There we shall make ourselves comfortable by the nearest brazier, sip spiced wine and, when our menfolk arrive, shall make loud praise about their prowess.’
I laughed, and prepared to enjoy the day.
We rode out not long after. We made a procession down the stairs, through the lesser hall, and then down the wooden stairs to the inner bailey where grooms held our horses for us. By now the sun was risen and the moisture of the night steamed from walls and cobbles. To my relief I saw that it was a cloudless day. It would be cold — this was the first day of winter — but it would not rain, and the sun would be welcome.
Raife was clearly looking forward to the day and the hunt. He jostled and shouted with the rest of the men, heated by excitement. As we rode out, Alianor on her pretty bay palfrey by my side, he came over with Gilbert Ghent.
He greeted Alianor, then looked to me. ‘Are you well, wife?’ he asked, and smiled at my nod.
‘Ghent will ride with you today, to make sure you are kept safe,’ Raife continued, his courser skittering beneath him, eager to be off.
I looked at Ghent, who was trying — and failing — to keep the disappointment from his face. No doubt he’d have much preferred to have ridden with the rest of the nobles at full chase.
‘I am most glad of your company, sir,’ I said, and gave him a sweet smile which I hoped was some compensation for his duty this day.
We rode in splendid procession out from the Conqueror’s Tower and then north through the fields to Fenechirche Street, ignoring Tower Gate though it was the closest gate for us to exit London. Instead, Edmond wanted to ride in procession through eastern London and depart via Ald Gate. There were, I believe, several hundred among us: nobles, knights, squires, grooms, various huntsmen and falconers, servants accompanying the oxen-trundled carts that carried the tents and tables and food for our field feast, spare horses and, of course, the dogs, both hunting hounds and pleasure dogs, the latter running up and down the column of riders, barking with excitement and in constant danger of being trampled by horses over-excited by the noise and desperate to run.
As well as numerous, we were colourful. Everyone wore the best clothes they could that were also suitable for hunting. As the sun rose higher it glittered from buckles, jewelled sword belts and mantle clasps (I wore Edmond’s gift). Pennants and banners fluttered from staffs. The horses were clad in their best harnesses and bright cloths covered their rumps. Dulcette was resplendent in scarlet leather and rump cloth embroidered with gold and turquoise. Her mane and tail had been washed yesterday and were left to wave and flow in the sun.
It was impossible not to enjoy myself. Many Londoners had come out to line Fenechirche Street and wave us on our way — their enthusiasm no doubt fed, as their stomachs were, by the meat pies Edmond had caused to be handed out. Horns sounded, bells rang, pipes and drums played, and gaiety filled the air. I sat Dulcette, Alianor by my side, and we smiled and dimpled and waved at the people lining the street. Even Gilbert Ghent overcame his disappointment at having to stay by my side and straightened in the saddle, doing his best to look like one of the Arthurian knights riding out on some romantic, idealistic quest.
We rode down Fenechirche, past Holy Trinity Priory (whose occupants I hoped were even now in our house, delousing it of imps), through Ald Gate (draped in huge banners depicting the king’s devices), and past Saint Botolph’s without Ald Gate, and thence down the road that led into the forests to the east.
As we reached the forest, the column halted, and split into two: those who would take their falcons down to the marshlands abutting the Thames to hunt heron, and those who wished to hunt boar, and perhaps even deer, in the forests. The wagons carrying the equipment and food for our field feast went with the heron hunters, for the field chosen to host our feast bordered both forest and marshlands.
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115