I thought of all the people dying of the plague and wondered if it was my fault they suffered.
But how could I tell Edmond? Would not the king’s suspicions of witchcraft be completely vindicated?
‘Maeb!’
‘Oh, my lord, I am so sorry.’ I let slip a sob, my hands over my face.
I wanted Edmond to move about the table and comfort me, I wanted that so badly, and yet he did not move.
He just sat, watching me, unmoved by my womanly weakness.
‘Maeb, tell me.’
Owain had known there was something terribly wrong.
I could not hide it from Edmond, nor could I think of any lies that might plaster over the truth.
So I told him. Everything. The imps, and what my husband had told me — that he was the Devil’s man, come to find the diadem.
Everything, save that single thing, that the knight had aided me through the ordeal. The only thing saving me now was that people believed that God had spoken in the great hall that day I’d undergone the ordeal, and not the knight’s trickery.
I finished.
I could not look at Edmond.
There was complete silence.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I looked up.
Edmond was staring at me and I could not tell if he was shocked or thinking deeply.
Both, perhaps.
Suddenly he was on his feet, cursing foully. His chair had fallen and Edmond picked it up and threw it across the chamber so that it shattered against a wall.
I cringed, and Isouda and one of Edmond’s knights rushed in from the solar.
‘Get out!’ Edmond shouted at them, striding over to slam the door shut.
Then he whipped about.
‘By all the saints, Maeb, you were going to keep this from me? How long have you known, eh?’
‘Only after you’d left for Elesberie, my lord. I am sorry.’ Strangely, I was easier now that he was angry than sitting across from me, silent.
Anger would pass.
‘I did not know what to do, sir,’ I said, as clearly and honestly as I could. ‘All I could think was to run home to Pengraic.’
‘Jesu,’ Edmond muttered, walking away, one hand rubbing at his forehead. He turned about again.
‘You did not know at the Privy Council?’
‘No, my lord, I did not.’
‘But you knew of the imps, yes?’
I nodded.
‘And yet you said nothing.’
‘My lord, my husband had asked me not to. I loved and trusted him, and I had no reason then not to do so.’
‘And yet you did not trust me enough to mention that imps crawled through my palace as well as your home.’
I wondered if this was the issue, that I had left it this long before deciding to trust Edmond.
‘I was frightened, sir. And I trusted my husband completely.’
‘You owed him loyalty before me?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
He sighed, moving over to sit on the bed, which was the only place left for him to sit now he had destroyed his chair.
‘I wonder if that is how it should be, that a wife should offer her loyalty to her husband before she offers it to the king.’
‘It was how it was with me.’
‘And now I am the first person you have told this.’
‘No, my lord. I told Owain, my priest, this morning, as confession.’ Edmond muttered an obscenity.
‘And what did he say?’
‘That I should tell you.’
Edmond threw up his hands. ‘Well, praise be to God for Brother Owain, for otherwise I should never have learned! Sweet mother of Christ, Maeb, I thought that you and I … I thought …’
I dropped my eyes. This was not just between a king and his subject, then, but between a man and a woman, too.
‘So,’ Edmond said, his voice profoundly weary, ‘plague ravages my realm because the Devil thinks that his precious diadem is hidden here and the plague shall sniff it out. The Templars accuse you of harbouring the diadem, something you deny. But, lo, now I learn your husband is the Devil’s own man sent to snatch the diadem from its hiding place and return it to his hellish master. Meanwhile, some deep witchery was used so that you might be rescued from death … but not my son. Have I missed any salient facts, Maeb?’
I shook my head.
‘You claim innocence in all this?’
Now I raised my face back to his. ‘Yes, my lord.’
‘And yet,’ Edmond said, his voice now dangerously quiet, ‘how remarkable a coincidence it is that sweet, pretty, innocent Mistress Maeb should first find herself in the Devil’s lieutenant’s household, and then, amazingly, find herself his wife. How astounding that, coupled with this, it appears that your father may have stolen this diadem and entrusted it to you —’
‘I do not have it, my lord! I do not know where it is! I know nothing about this cursed diadem!’
‘Then explain to me why this remarkably unadventurous plague travels only in your footsteps. Back and forth, back and forth.’
‘Has it followed me back to Pengraic, my lord? Has it?’
He chewed the inside of his cheek. ‘I do not know. I have no intelligence as yet. But my gut instinct tells me that you are not so innocent as you claim. Why did Pengraic marry you if not to get his hands on the diadem? And why do I think that the best way I can rid my realm of this disaster is to send your husband back to hell with a well-placed sword stroke and cast you into the seas, that the plague may follow you into its depths?’
I could actually feel myself go pale with shock.
Edmond gave a slow nod, acknowledging my reaction.
‘Why should I not do that, Maeb?’
Again, I wept. I was somewhat astounded I had any tears left.
‘I do not know, my lord.’
‘And yet how God favours you,’ Edmond said.
‘I would think Pengraic had aided you through that ordeal save he was so panicked at the thought of you undertaking it.’
‘The ordeal was carried out under the word of God. Raife could not have intervened even had he wished to do so.’
‘In that I am inclined to believe you. And this strange knight, and Ghent … I felt only good from them, not evil. So for the moment, Maeb, I am prepared to trust you — but not as I once did. Who knows what else you keep from me? Always the kernel of doubt will be there, and I will watch you more carefully.’
That stung. Badly.
‘What will we do, my lord? What can I do, to win back your regard?’ He studied me thoughtfully.
‘Whatever happens, Maeb, you shall be at the heart of it. This is war now, and you are a soldier in it. Your days of innocence — whether claimed or real — are over.’
Chapter Eight
Perhaps that day spent out of bed had wearied me, or maybe the seeds of the sepsis were already there, but later that evening I fell in to a fiery ague. I do not recall much about that night, nor the following week and more of days and nights, save that the fever sapped away at my strength and that I was consumed by pain and aches.
I dreamed during this time, much as I had dreamed when I was dying of the plague and hemlock. Again I saw the forbidden falloway and I could sense the knight sitting his courser waiting to turn me back if I stepped foot along that falloway. Unlike that earlier period of dying, however, this time I did not venture toward him. I stood at the entrance of the falloway and looked down its length longingly, but I did not attempt to walk it.
Isouda later told me I had been overtaken by childbed fever, and that Owain had worried it would carry me away. I became so sick, and so sensitive to any sound at all, that Edmond ordered that the castle come to a stillness when I was at my worst, so that the noise of the inner bailey and great keep might not torture me.
Edmond kept a vigil in the solar. Maybe he dreaded losing his soldier in the war ahead, maybe he dreaded losing me, I don’t know. Maybe both. But for the ten days that I lay critically ill Edmond kept vigil, and it gladdened my heart when I later heard of it.
During this time, also, Owain baptised my son. Edmond and Isouda stood as sponsors, and Edmond named him Geoffrey, which was a fine name. Sewenna continued to feed him and he gained weight with every day. When, after two weeks, they brought Geoffrey to see me again I was astounded at his size and heaviness. For his part, Geoffrey seemed to have forgot his mother, for he fretted and cried when he was put into my arms and did not stop until he was again with Sewenna.