The Devil’s Diadem by Sara Douglass

I felt a twinge of unhappiness that he did not recognise me, but it did not last long. I could not love this child, nor did I try overmuch to do so. My maternal instincts were utterly overwhelmed and defeated by the horror of his father.

Once I had emerged from death’s shadow Edmond left me to recover and embarked on a tour of the Welsh Marches, visiting as far north as Scersberie. He arrived back at Pengraic Castle after five weeks with an impressive number of soldiers (most of the company which had originally accompanied him on my rescue, had left within days of their initial arrival at Pengraic). After a few days rest at Pengraic, Edmond then led these knights and soldiers on a foray deep into the Usk Valley, taking advantage of the disarray of the Welsh forces after the death of Madog ap Gruffydd and, in the process, recapturing Brecon Castle, which the Welsh had held for a number of years.

I grew stronger as the weeks passed. While Edmond was fighting his way up the Usk Valley, I spent my time within the castle, in Owain’s garden, and praying over, and receiving comfort from, Stephen’s grave. I also took Dulcette out for increasingly longer rides, always escorted by a goodly number of soldiers, and often d’Avranches himself.

D’Avranches, I think, came less to protect me than to pass the time of day with Isouda, who also rode out with me.

I envied them their smiles.

Eventually, some ten or twelve weeks after I had given birth to Geoffrey, Edmond returned to Pengraic Castle, and we had our first lengthy conversation since that day I’d told him of my husband’s true identity. We had seen each other many times before now, of course, but Edmond had never lingered nor talked more than asking how either myself or Geoffrey was doing.

Now, fresh from his journey about the Marches and his impressive victory at Brecon Castle, Edmond had decided I was well enough to venture back to London.

We sat in the solar, eyeing each other.

‘D’Avranches tells me another message arrived from Pengraic last night,’ Edmond said.

‘Aye. He commands me again to return to London.’ My husband had been sending messengers thick and fast since he learned of my arrival at Pengraic Castle and the birth of his son. At first Raife had tried asking me to return to London, always appealing to me to trust him, then when that accomplished nothing, he ordered me to return. Raife had also sent numerous messages to Edmond, giving full account of the state of London, and requesting that when Edmond returned, to bring me with him.

I had sent little in reply, save that both I and Geoffrey were doing well and that his son thrived. I would return, I told the various messengers, if Edmond thought I should.

‘I also received word that the plague continues to die out in London,’ Edmond said. ‘It raged furious for a full five weeks, but now … there have been no new infections reported for the past ten days.’

But in the meantime many thousands had died. On top of the ice tragedy and the fire, it would take generations for the city to recover.

‘And the plague has not spread from London?’ I asked.

‘No.’ Edmond paused. ‘It did not follow your return route to Pengraic via Sancti Albans, Elesberie and Wodestoch.’

‘Well, if it did not follow me, then I do not have the diadem!’ Edmond gave an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. ‘Or you left it in London. The plague has not moved from there because it has no need. It has done the same thing as happened at Pengraic Castle when you were here previously. It stopped. Maybe because it had found the location of the diadem then, too.’

‘I —’

‘Let me finish. That, plus the fact that Pengraic seems increasingly desperate to have you back in London, seems to me to indicate that the diadem rests somewhere in London and that you have the key to its location. Thus, it is time that we returned, too. I want this done with, Maeb. My realm is being torn apart by disaster after disaster, and they always follow in your footsteps. Now we go back to London and we finish this.’

‘You are not afraid to face my husband?’

Edmond looked at me oddly. ‘Afraid? No, why should I be? He is not after my realm, only the cursed diadem. I fear Archbishop du Bec more than Pengraic. And my dear, it is you who will need to face him, you who have the diadem, or the knowledge of its location.’

I could not argue any more that I did not have the damned thing. I could see no reason why I should go back to London, and no reason to see Raife again. I should stay here, and raise my son, the future Earl of Pengraic.

I want to stay here. But I could not say that. Edmond was as determined to get me back to London as my husband was to have me there.

Once more I prepared to take to the road between London and Pengraic. We would travel in a well-guarded company, for Edmond did not trust some other lord to not take it into his head that by seizing me he might have access to the diadem. We would also travel fast. Although there were carts in which I could travel if I needed, I would ride Dulcette whenever possible.

Edmond wanted London.

I did not take Geoffrey with me. He was vulnerable, particularly considering toward what we travelled. He would stay with Sewenna, and Isouda also would stay at Pengraic to oversee his care.

Isouda raised no objections — both her and d’Avranches’ families had opened marriage negotiations.

Our journey was accomplished in the main with few troubles, save that of the towns we passed through that had endured not one but two successive waves of plague. Although we rode through these towns, and Edmond always stopped to confer with their men of rank to see what aid he could organise for them, we did not stay there. Instead Edmond led us from royal manor to royal manor so that we ate from his own purse, instead of from those towns and houses who were crippled by plague and needed their coin for their own purposes.

Edmond and I spoke only occasionally, and then only on the briefest of matters. I could feel his suspicion in every look, every gesture. He, as with so many others, now appeared certain that I had the diadem and there was nothing I could say to disabuse him of that notion.

I dreaded returning to London and to Raife.

After two weeks’ travel we approached Oxeneford. It was still early in the morning, not yet midday, and I thought we would eat and then have an early night. I was glad, for I was tired and sore from the constant riding.

But perhaps an hour’s ride from Oxeneford, Edmond waved on the majority of the column, including Gytha and Ella, and told me he and I were to ride to the Benedictine abbey of Godstou with only some fifteen soldiers and knights as company.

‘Godstou Abbey?’ I asked, Dulcette easily keeping pace with Edmond’s big bay courser as we turned down a narrow roadway. ‘Why?’

‘There is a woman there I wish you to meet,’ he said.

‘One of the nuns. I knew her when I was a youth, and respected her mightily. She has recently joined the nunnery, deciding to spend her remaining years in service to God.’

He wanted me to meet a woman he knew as a youth?

‘My lord?’ I said.

‘Her name is Uda,’ Edmond said.

‘She has powerful judgment.’

I felt extremely uneasy.

‘Why do we need to meet with her, my lord?’ Edmond chewed his cheek in that manner he had when he was debating within himself how to answer a question.

‘Uda is a powerful sage,’ he said.

‘She can see how matters rest within people.’

‘I am to be tested?’

‘Maeb, I am sorry for this, but I need to know one way or the other. I no longer know what to think of you, if you are to be trusted or not. I want to trust you, but should I? If we were but man and woman …’

He shrugged.

‘But we are not. Many tens of thousands have died because of this plague. I do not want tens of thousands more to so die. I will leave no stone unturned in order to do what is best for the people of this realm, not what is best for you. And if that means testing you until I am satisfied that you tell me the truth, then so be it.’

‘It is a shame you did not bring the burning gauntlet with you,’ I muttered, and Edmond surprised me by bursting into genuine laughter and he was still chuckling when we turned into the grounds of Godstou Abbey.