- one -
I take up the poet's sword at this late hour of my life not so much to dishonor the name of the late King of England but to defend my memory to my children and their children who, of late, have come to see much of my life spent as an idiot. I now dispel such evil rumor and if the former is dishonored in due course then it must be, simply because his story is much of mine and the blackguard does royally deserve any infamy I can spare as there is far too much good said of him of late.
And, God willing, should I survive drink, disease, and surfeit of female companionship, I pray to explain my long absences abroad, to the west and to the east; this last resulting in my recent journey to the southern city of Venice to the conclusion of old business with that sour-hearted scoundrel, Marco Polo le Miliones.
But I leap before myself, for all this is recent whereas my ignoble beginnings were long ago, before my first encounter with the Lord Edward, and my untold foreign adventures did not begin until much later, after he strove to steal my life from within my breast.
* * * * *
I was born and raised up on the manor of Newton in Hampshire --- called now Newton Valence, after the Valences present lords of the manor --- there my father held 1½ knight's fees of Robert de Pont de l'Arche. I stood third of four brothers: Richard, the eldest; Henry; myself; and John. Richard, being eldest, was due to inherit the modest estate and was favored by father over the rest of us, a fact we could never forget thanks to Richard. Henry was the favorite of mother, and thus it happened that she decided to leave the remainder of her dower lands to him. So it was that John and I were due to receive naught unless, thought I, some sinful design should come to pass else our futures were bleak ones plagued with work. For some time I had hoped father would find an heiress for me, but only two such appeared locally --- immediately contracted to my two elders. It would seem father had only enough room in his heart for two sons.
You might think I should have banded with my younger brother and brought about some pact with our elders so that we might have received some sustenance of the house after father was gone. But it was hopeless as dear John seemed an imbecile pure and simple and did not seem to notice the hardship of his lot. Besides that, Richard took father's lead and showed no concern for us.
I should not say that father took no concern of us, for he did: at age nine I was sent into the fields to work and thus learn my way in the world. And there was John, aged eight, insisting that he be sent too.
I mumbled and grumbled. Father said, "Learn to face your share of life now, Robin. Better you should learn to work and find yourself a station in life than to be forced to work later without preparation for it. You shall be grateful to me for this."
I cared not for it, then or later, and shuffled off toward the fields.
"And you be quick about it, Robin," father yelled almost in my ear, "or I'll have you in the pillory 'til dusk." And so saying, he slapped my backside and walked off.
A boot well-aimed at John's backside ended his giggling and off we went to the fields like common peasants, me grumbling under the strain of hoe and pole and John rubbing his backside and crying.
The bailiff met us and took us to a demesne field and instructed us where, and how, to work, remarking while so doing about one of his betters working among the common folk.
"But by mere accident of birth," the large, stupid thing mused, "you might be working the fields." Obviously unalert, the idiot did not seem to realize that was exactly what we were doing, birth be damned, or would be doing as soon as he ceased his useless chatter and left us.
Soon he departed. I then handed hoe and pole to John and sat back to watch the industrious beggar do the serfs proud.
* * * * *
At the time, I recall wondering to myself about the purpose of being born into the right station. But for two years' displacement, I would be in dear brother Henry's place and he be in the fields. Now, though, I realize what disaster would have occurred had that been the case: imbecilic Henry would be there in the fields yet, for he has not even half the wit of which I was so highly gifted.
And to think of the state of England had not my miracle of birth placed me in those same sad straits. What an insane mess Edward would have made of things!
At the time, though, I knew of none of the great adventures lying ahead of me and cursed my foul luck, and shouted at my sibling to work faster.
After harvest, winter came at last and put an end to my (John's) labors. It was sometime during this Christmas festival that I noticed I was growing faster than my brothers. (In later years it has turned out that I had the greatest height, followed by John, and then Richard, the same height as father, and finally Henry, shorter even than mother.)
The first I realized the strange occurrence, Richard, who had enjoyed thrashing me on the Sabbath but had missed it for some time because of my labors and his getting married, came for me in the yard just before dinner. He stopped short and stared, sizing me up. He motioned Henry toward me, as he had been standing to the side to watch the fun.
"Brother, I give you the honors." But Henry too hesitated. Then I noticed Richard and I stood eye to eye and his hesitancy became obvious: I had been able to cause little or no harm while I had been shorter than he.
I immediately took advantage of the situation and his apparent state of shock: I soundly boxed his ears, kicked him in the groin, and happily slapped him to the ground.
Henry stood in amazement as I stood proudly over my victim. Then, seized by a sudden idea, I reached down and begun pulling the clothes from my fallen brother despite dear Henry's protestations.
Wearing Richard's clothes, I entered the hall, marched straightaway to the high table, and sat for the meal without a word, hoping to pass myself off as he.
I need hardly say it failed miserably. Being promptly recognized, father tormented my entire physical body with his large and cunning fists. It was probably my hair which betrayed my secret, those fair golden locks, as Richard's was of a decidedly black color. How was I to know father would notice the difference?
You may wonder why I ponder at length over these frivolous childhood episodes, but let my folly deter not your desire to read the course of my life. I merely wish to display the foundations of the man I was to become. These things formed my youthful mind upon a course well justified, as I shall shortly relate.
The truth of it is that I was lazy --- now that my life is mostly complete and my future comforts assured, I can proclaim it as loudly as I wish --- my mind, body, and soul were more inclined toward a life of comfort and relaxation in luxury than toiling the fields or any other form of physically discomfiting exertion. So I came to practice by my wits and have learned through my many years that though brawn can be useful for extricating one from many dangerous situations, a quick wit can get one out of anything; yea, even keep one from a distressing plight altogether. A number of times in my experience, it has triumphed over brawn. Thus came I to learn and excel in all the things of the mind.
My first attempt at mastering deception ran afoul, as related above, I daresay by merely a small oversight in planning. As I lay to sleep that night, rubbing my sores, I vowed never again to anything so rash and foolhardy.
Next time I would rub coal dust in my hair.
* * * * *
I was well desperate to avoid working the field another season, you can tell, and was nigh considering escape when an unexpected salvation came.
My maternal grandfather, Robert Carpenter, the fat, infirm old coot for whom I was named, desired to see me and perhaps raise me as part of his household and thereby secure for me a place in the world.
Thus it came to pass that during Easter of my ninth year, until which time father had kept me home waiting for the many bruises to fade from my skin, I voyaged to the Isle of Wight and arrived in short time at the manor of Haslett, where my grandfather held some sizeable portion. Immediately upon entering, I was swept into the plump arms of grandfather, suddenly realizing it was not all fat --- but he near toppled over me. (Even now the thought of all that weight thrown violently upon me sends a sweat to my brow.)
He stumbled not in joy of seeing his grandson: the old beast was stupid with drink. Even so, he accorded me the warmest greetings and ushered me somewhat unsteadily into the hall, shouting blurrily as we went, "Maud! Titty! Come and see what the devil has brought in!"
Matilda, his second wife, young enough to be his daughter, and Laetitia, her daughter by a previous marriage to a knight of Kent, came in and greeted me.
Grandfather stumbled to his wife and put his arm around her back, his hand continuing under her arm and further to cup her rather full breast; she squirmed and he pinched, only to get his hand slapped. She grew red and glanced in my direction, though I know not whether from embarrassment or anger --- the former I assume --- then engaged grandfather in a low voice. This afforded me a chance to look at the daughter.
Laetitia, three years my senior as it happened had struck my youthful eye the moment she entered. Slim and fair, her long golden hair hung to her waist and she clasped her pale hands before her, vivid against the dark purple tunic she wore. Her rather small nose was turned toward a tapestry on the wall, upon which she stared quite intently as though noticing it now for the first time, while the adult pair continued in their muted tones.
Presently she turned to me and for but a moment those deep blue eyes seemed to pierce into my breast before widening, her high pink cheeks turning a shade darker, her thin rose lips almost forming a silent "o", then she cast her gaze to her feet; still I could see the crimson glow spread from her cheeks to the ears half-hidden behind her golden locks.
I am surprised now that the scene was so touching to one of my tender years that it is etched so into my mind even now. But such is the memory of first love, and I have a good mind now as then. Even still, something stirs within me at the thought.
"Come along then, Robin," grandfather beckoned me from my short reverie at youth's wellspring, "and I shall acquaint you with your new home." We took our leave of the women and toured the estate.
One might think the altercation 'tween grandfather and his wife a small trifle over a modest show of affection, but the display became an almost hourly occurrence. The old bull was insatiable in his appetite, his wife satiated. I daresay she tried hard enough to please him even to allowing him several mistresses openly in the house.
She knew them all well enough and saw to it that he used them all equally, so that none could encompass him fully. But she need not have bothered for he never showed affection to any one of them and nothing of the fondling he was always at with Matilda. Had he his own way, the mistresses would have all been sent packing and they two would have retired permanently to bed. Yes, even as young as I was it was plain that he was really in a bad way for her, the old goat.
By the time we had finished the round of the estate, the remainder of the family returned from I know not where. Robert, his eldest son, and Stephen; Isabel and Eleanor, my mother's youngest two sisters; and Michael, Laetitia's brother. Most of them came and went so often that I had hardly a chance to know any of them beyond recognition.
Robert, my uncle, was trained in all the clerical arts and was working in the household of the Earl of Derby nearby at his headquarters for the Isle of Wight. A good-hearted soul, he was to oversee my instruction in the clerical arts and eventually find me a position as well.
During that first evening meal, grandfather began stroking Maud's thigh and had shortly so excited himself that he overturned his chair and upset his serving man in the attempt to have her on the spot and she had to summon Ingiahild, his Danish mistress, to drag him away and "finish him off". No one paid any heed to the interchange, and after a month neither did I; besides I was too busy feeling important sitting at the high table next to uncle Robert.
After the meal, uncle showed me to my room --- no longer would I have to sleep in the all or kitchen with the servants --- which room had once been his but now he stayed in the village and only came on this day to meet me and prepare me for tutelage.
Standing alone in the fading dusk, I pondered this strange grandfather of mine, hoping there could be more between us than just this accident of name and birth, hoping there could truly be a brighter future here for me, when a sudden light appeared behind me. Turning, I discovered Titty holding a lamp in one hand and the edge of the entry tapestry in the other as she ushered several servants into the chamber.
The first two carried a large wooden tub, the remainder some buckets of water with steam rising therefrom. She stepped from the portal to direct the placement of the tub and the pouring of the water. The then solemnly set the lamp on a chest by the bed and silently followed the servants out.
I was approaching the tub when she reentered with brush and cloth. We stared at each other for some time and still can I recall the uneasiness which began to creep over me. I tried a foolish smile.
"Well?" she asked, advancing toward me.
"Well??" I had a suspicion my ignorance was apparent. I held out my hand for the brush. "I shall now take my bath."
She stopped before me, dressed in white linen tunic, plain but for the red letter "L" in embroidered pattern around the base.
"Take your bath, then." But she made no move to hand over the brush or cloth, and my empty hand descending limply to my side.
You may well imagine I was a foreigner or something the way I behaved. It was not the idea of disrobing before the eyes of a female as I had done that every evening at home: you cannot undress for sleep in a hall with forty other people without seeing the anatomy of others and without them espying yours. Yet I had not done so in the presence of one solitary female and especially one that caused such a wrenching feeling in my gut.
I blurted out, "I am waiting for you to leave!" which shows how ignorant I was in the ways of the world.
She leaned her head back, eyes almost closed, and laughed softly, like the birds of the meadow, while I imagine I turned apple red even unto the toes in my shoes.
O, fondest of memories, my embarrassment excluded, and I can see it still if I close my eyes and take a healthy pull at my cup of wine: her straight white neck, her hair golden and shimmering in rhythm to the gentle shaking of her shoulders, her perfect teeth, those two small hard nipples making their presence known behind the curtain of linen; and the soft sound of her laughter, a little deeper and matured than one would expect from one of her age.
My ears and cheeks were fairly bleeding red, you know, when she finished and looked gaily at me.
"It has been custom for many years for the eldest daughter in residence to bathe an honored guest."
It took a few moments for it to sink in that I was, in fact, an "honored" guest: first grandson of Robert Carpenter to be named after him. And I did not stop to think then, as I do not now, why did not one of grandfather's elder daughters do the honor rather than this younger daughter not his own? Had it occurred otherwise... well, Edward's story should have been far different.
(Probably why I had never heard of this custom was because at home I had always to bathe myself and any guests were bathed by chambermaids, as were my two elder brothers; and for that, I had no sisters who could have performed this custom.
Titty stepped behind me, removed my tunic, and I allowed myself to be bathed, that night and many more; three or four times a month during my stay. At times, another guest would arrive and, if grandfather's two daughters were gone, Titty would excuse herself from the duty to attend to me, sending first Ethilhild, a comely chambermaid, to handle the guests and, after she became with child, Philippa was sent. And so some months I was clean to excess, but Titty must where duty calls.
I recall once, bath done, I told her I should like to bathe her in exchange, but she laughed and said it was not done and, no, she could not make an exception even in my case.
* * * * *
Months and seasons came and passed. The days I spent in studying letters, at first reluctantly but then with a vigor as I came to understand it involved almost no physical exertion and promised to keep me for the rest of my days at a much handsomer salary than any form of labor.
With that inspiration, I fairly leapt into my books, astounding both my tutor, Master Richard, and my uncle, and delighting my grandfather. It afforded me more leisure time, which I prefer, to go riding with uncle Stephen and Michael, or to stroll with Titty, or watch her and Maud at needlework in the garden on sunny days --- whereby came I with a great store of gossip.
It had been four wonderful years of this life, the bathing, hunting, studying, gossip, when I began to feel a change come over me. It was gradual so that I could not place its onset with any great precision, but the first I became aware of it was at my last Christmas at Haslett.
It was a special holiday indeed, for I had completed the training and knew Latin, French, and Greek, as well as English, and I was being prepared for formal entrance into the organization of the house.
Titty was bending over the tub, scrubbing my body with the brush then wiping it off by hand. During this latter, she lingered for a moment upon my apparatus before going on to rinse my hair.
Something had stirred down there, but the bucketful of cold water that hit my scalp quelled any fire which might have begun. I sat in the tub with a stupid expression of bewilderment on my face rather than rising. So smart with the letters, one might have thought, that he has forgotten of other parts of life. Ah, but how can one not know of carnality? Especially being harangued about it in the chapel every Sabbath, how could one not know of its graces?
Perhaps my gangly body had spent too much of its energies putting new inches on my frame while my mind was busy with its learning that I had forgotten the other parts of life.
"What is the matter, Robin?"
"I felt something," I began nervously, "something strange..."
"What is the delay, Robin?" Maud stood in the portal, looking anxious. "Hurry, dear, as your grandfather is getting impatient, if you know what I mean." She turned to go. "Get him dressed quickly, Titty."
I stood and looked down into Titty's eyes --- I was now three fingers taller than she --- and she began drying me. There was a flicker of a question therein and I had no answer. Nor came any to me during the next few weeks. Though there was no recurrence of the incident, it remained fresh in my memory that strange feeling. Then nature took its course.
It was rather early in the evening for a bath, but grandfather had said something special was about and so into the tub I went. My mind was not with the scrubbing, for I believed I had a hint of the upcoming event: had Maud not mentioned two evenings before, knitting before the fire, glancing sidewise at me, that it was time for Eleanor to be getting married. Titty was of an age with Eleanor.
So I hardly noticed her hands rubbing the soap over my body until she touched it again. Then she giggled and grabbed the brush; its strokes were not felt.
She bent over the tub, her fragrant hair next to my nose, and I could see her two small breasts as I usually could when her tunic hung away from her bosom. This time those two snowy white objects with pink centers pulled at my eyes by some strange power and the unusual feeling, begun a moment before, became firmly manifested --- I felt of myself: very firmly manifested.
Dizziness poured over me as in waves of heat. Certain now, I could place the feeling with the meaning. She had set the brush aside and began lazily rinsing my body, which tensed under her touch. She playfully splashed water in my face and tickled me, until her hand brushed across the firmament.
Puzzled, she half withdrew her hand then reached again.
"Robin, you have been a growing boy," she smiled.
My hand pressed to her tunic and I tried to fondle her breasts as I had seen grandfather do to Maud, though I had somewhat less to work with.
She purred like a kitten and sagged against the edge of the tub while my unoccupied hand struggled past the folds of tunic caught beneath her knees. My wet fingers traced along the inside of her leg to rub her as she did to me.
Then her lips were hard on mine, breath coming hot and fast. And before I could have caught my breath to say "Blessed Virgin", she had torn me from the tub and pulled the tunic over her head.
Holding me close, she fell to her knees. Stroking each other we descended. My body atop hers, she reached for my tool when it happened.
A loud wail, followed by mournful sobbing came from without. I leapt to my feet, thinking first that we had been discovered, and pulled Titty to her feet. We stared at each other in shock as she donned her tunic. Brushing her hair down with one hand, she started for the portal, me one step behind. She turned to say something and her eyes fell upon my member. A slim white hand darted to her mouth.
"You cannot go out like that!!"
I started to say that I come nude from the bath, then realized the upright offender would betray the tale. She darted past me back into the room.
"Robin!"
I turned in time to see her swing the bucket before its cold contents hit me.
Quickly returned to normal, I grabbed the cloth and raced after her into the hallway to enter the throng gathered outside grandfather's chamber centering on Maud, naked, sobbing into her hands. Titty went to her mother while I, drying myself with the cloth, continued into grandfather's chamber.
Uncle Robert held back the crowd within as Master Philip the physician leaned over the body on the bed.
"Merciful Father!" exclaimed he, stepping back and crossing himself as he sank to his knees. "He is dead!"
Uncle whirled about and flashed his dagger. "Was it poison?" he snarled.
"No, milord." Philip bowed his head. "I fear it was his exertion with milady. It became too much for his physical strength."
Dagger still held but now limply at his side, Robert pushed his way through the throng of men into the corridor.
"Madam," he addressed Maud, "did my father complete?"
She pulled not her face from her hands but spoke through sobs: "Yes, oh my Lord Jesus, he... yes... he was... magnificent...oh, God, he was..." Sobbing helplessly, she was led away by her women.
Sheathing his dagger, Robert remained the center of attention. "Friends, let us prepare a fitting departure for the body and soul of my father who has gone from an earthly heaven to our Heavenly Father."
And with that, the group descended upon the hall with shouts of "Wine! Wine!"
I returned to the bedchamber to watch the last rites for grandfather, holding Titty's hand, tears streaming down both our cheeks. Still I could not help noticing Ingiahild and Beatrice, two of his mistresses, staring at me.
Later, cleaning up the mess after the bath, I mentioned the staring pair to Titty. She quickly cleared up the mystery. There in my nakedness, it was obvious that I had inherited more than just my grandfather's name. None of his sons had been thus endowed.
The noise from the hall below surrounded me as I pondered this. Titty said it meant that I was specially chosen, though to what purpose we could not even hazard a guess. Her eyes had an odd sparkle nevertheless.
Retrospectively, I take her meaning as a very personal thing for I have known three others as endowed in my life and their lives were not that momentous either: Earl Roger, Ogodai the Mongolian giant, and Edward the Handsome, King of England, and son of my Edward.
- two -
It came to pass that the end of grandfather's sojourn amongst us was also the end of my brief sojourn in the world for within two days I was back at Newton with my dear family, minus John, who had been sent to Southwick Priory by father. I suppose father got the idea by my training in letters at Haslett, for he was not prone to original thinking.
Uncle Robert had said I was not needed there at present, as his own clerks were sufficient, but said I might contact him in a year or two. In the meanwhile, he suggested, I go to work in my father's house.
That idea was, of course, absurd. I fear Robert knew not of father's great distrust in lettered men's handling of another's purse --- a distrust well placed, in view of Uncle's somewhat illegal practices of just that sort.
I saw little of Maud or Titty before my departure as they were engaged in consoling one another. At parting, I promised to return as soon as possible, to continue our pleasantries.
And had I actually thought for one moment that Robert's suggestion would bear fruit, the thought was quickly dashed: my second day home found me back in the fields, in the cold, helping prepare them for planting, and there was no John to take it from me.
My years of training had not changed my father's heart toward me; I was still little Robin.
After a full day of labor, tortured and aching muscles convinced me I should not last a month, much less the two years dear Uncle had proposed. Thus became I resolved to leave home. That evening, packing my belongings with a fever, planning where Titty and I would go it came to me that I should enter the King's service --- though I must confess I knew not one whit about him beyond his name: Henry, the third of that name. With my training in reading and writing languages in manuscript or business script, and my work in figures and accounting, I should be a most welcome addition to the Royal Household. And my brothers --- would they not? Poor fools! --- beg me to gain them a hearing before His Majesty's throne or secure them some small trifle from His Highness?
So ran my thoughts. The one trifle I should mind in the least giving to my dear brothers would be a sound beating about the heads and shoulders to knock some sense into their heads, or, thought I, knock them out of their heads.
I continued packing, muttering more to myself about those fools, for there was plenty to be said on the subject, when an idea suddenly came upon me. And here I received the divine --- so I then thought --- revelation that would save me from a fate worse than work in either field or chancery: I would become the fool.
Yes, I told myself, are not the household fools and town simpletons greatly revered, like children unto Christ? Were not fools kept free from work? No one paid much attention or bothered a fool. It seemed the perfect scheme, and my less than intelligent family would take it as gospel. Of that I was certain.
The decision made, I unpacked and got to sleep rather more quickly than was usual and dreamt all night of the pleasant life I should have as a fool, never thinking of all the changes involved therein... never foreseeing the course my life should take with such a role cast upon it. But impatience will out.
* * * * *
As the morning's sun raised its last half above the horizon, I entered the barn whistling merrily.
"Good morning, Mary. And you, Eleanor." The two milk maids returned the greetings and watched me approach the horses. I had chosen the black mare as it was well hidden from view of the maids and set to work.
I drew my dagger and put it to my forehead. The shallow cut across the temple burned a moment and the blood flowed, but I ignored both. Taking up a loose plank, I pricked the hindquarters of the mare and held the plank quickly down by her hooves. The plank was kicked violently from my hand and I barely had time to resheath the blade before I threw myself toward the center of the aisle, moaning with passion, clutching my head. I hoped one or both the maids would take heart at my dilemma and carry the word to father that I had been kicked in the head.
After rolling a couple of times to ensure the wound would be properly hidden behind a mask of dirt, I lay still and slowed my breathing to a minimum though my heart galloped. In a moment one of the maids, Mary I believe, ran up to my form.
"Master Robin! What is the matter?" She knelt beside me and gingerly shook my shoulder. "Oh, Eleanor, quick! Get help and do hurry, I fear Pacelia has kicked young master Robin in the head!"
Footsteps could be heard disappearing into the distance as Mary stood and backed off a couple of paces. Damn! thought I. Should she have gone as well I could have relaxed a moment or two.
An hour it seemed I lay there on the verge of death, thought Mary, and on the verge of giving up the ruse as a waste of time, thought I, when I heard voices approaching.
It was either father or the Devil coming to take me for this wicked ruse.
It was father and, so it seemed, the entire house. Many feet encircled my figure and in the confusion dirt was kicked in my face --- Richard, no doubt.
"Is he dead?" "What happened?" "Lord Jesus!" "What shall we do?" "Where the devil is mother?" (that last was Henry); the chatter of voices was deafening. Had I been dead for sure, it would have yet raised me.
Presently mother was beside father, while I fought back the desire to sneeze the dirt from my nose.
"Mary," demanded father, "what happened here?"
"Well, milord, I'm not exactly certain, milord, but I think, milord, that I, I mean we, that is..."
"Stop fussing with the rope, child! What happened? Eleanor, do you know?"
"No, milord. Mary and I were milking, we were, and master Robin, he enters with a 'good morning' and we says 'good morning to you, master Robin', and he goes yonder, supposing to feed or mount Pacelia when..."
"Who the hell is Pacelia?" interrupted father.
"William's black mare", someone answered.
"Was he attempting to steal the horse?" asked Richard.
"No, milord, for he had not untied her, but was standing close behind her when suddenly she kicks and catches him in the head."
"Yes, milord," added Mary, "that is what I saw too. Pacelia kicked him in the head with a loud report and set him sailing."
Father grunted and turned my head over. There were hushed gasps from the circle as the wound was thus exposed.
"Is he all right, Richard?" mother asked of father.
Another grunt. "He's alive, at least."
That was my cue. I stirred my legs, to another gasp from the circle, and after a moment: moaned.
"He's coming around!" cried someone, obviously the most astute and observant fellow of the group. Brother Richard laughed, "It is just as well, time for 'master' Robin to get to the fields."
He moved beside me and tried to lift me. I opened my eyes right then to one of the most astonishing sights of my life --- second only to the expression on Lord Edward's face at the news of his firstborn --- father backhanded Richard across the face.
"Keep back, imbecile! There may be bones broken; if so and you move him thus, he might die. We must wait to see if he can rise."
"Look! His eyes! They are open!" Henry.
I blinked absently as everyone turned from my wincing brother to me. Then my face cleared, to be replaced by a scowl at the group.
"What for stand ye here, fools?" I growled. "Get thee to the south ramparts. Hold the foe! Stay the devils! Begone! Begone! Defend the bridgehead! Defend the maidenhead! Off I say, be off!"
The faces stared back in dumbfounded horror. I shook my fist at them. "There! They pound upon the gates! To your merlons and cast the walls down upon their heads or we are lost!" I struggled to my knees, then one foot, and promptly fell over backward, muttering into the dirt.
Richard put a boot against my shoulder and kicked me onto my back. I stared blankly upward, mumbling still.
"There!" he cried triumphantly. "'Poor little Robin' is not hurt and I daresay the kick in the head has only gone to help him sober. He's not ill, he's drunk!"
Father sat me up again and stared close into my face, smelling my breath. Behind him Richard was talking to Henry: "Drunk! I daresay this is grandfather's influence." Mother stared him into silence.
Father's face was held close to mine and I tried my damnedest not to look on it, finally settling my sights on his left ear.
"Kings and Queens eat corn and beans," I said thickly, "leaving their good beef for the Winchester thief." Then I sang: "A bean a day, doo-dey-hey-ho; the King of Corn, his Queen will grow, hey-ho."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Henry asked no one.
I smiled stupidly into father's face and pushed spittle between my lips; it slid slowly down my chin as the crowd stepped back in horror. From my chin it dripped onto father's arm.
"O Dear Merciful God!" mother screamed. "His mind is fuddled!" She wept into her hands as the word 'Befuddled!' swept around the circle of faces, turning each to awe.
Father shook me, pulled me off the floor and shook me soundly, but put me on my feet gently as I continued smiling stupidly, mumbling, and drooling about my clothing.
They got nothing more out of me, so father carried me into the house. Mother wished to set me in a separate room, but the servants insisted on having the spectacle remain housed in the hall; so a more comfortable spot was set for me there. I was even set a place to eat at the high table though I knew better than to just sit and eat, so I wandered about the hall and ate a bit from everyone's place.
Next morning, I fumbled so long with my clothing that they tore in my hands before I could get them on. So new, and better, clothes were brought for me and several persons helped me dress. Soon, I could approach any of the servants in the morning, hold out my clothes, and be dressed. At times I would even raise a laugh by helping another get dressed and finish with half the clothes on me and half on him... or her.
Ah, that was such an easy life: wandering about without interruption, eating from every place at dinner, sitting in everyone's lap, reaching down certain persons' clothes, drooling pleasantly on everyone's clothing; smiling, laughing, frowning, crying, singing, all without rhyme or reason. Many was the time I thanked the Lord fervently for the grand inspiration which led me to my lucky situation.
I came upon Richard once behind the brew vats in the cellar. Eleanor was there too, finished with her milking, leaning over a barrel with her tunic pulled up above her waist as was Richard's. He kept bumping into her and she moaned each time, so I asked if he was beating her for any particular reason. He became annoyed and ordered me away and I answered, yes, milord, I shall get your wife as you ask. I started to leave and he ordered me to hold. This interlude broke his rhythm and Eleanor complained. Presently, I wandered off.
There were several other incidents similar, but they would interest no one but the wives of my two elder brothers.
* * * * *
The third month in my condition showed me a certain disadvantage of my 'blessing'. Already, though, I had noticed a certain lack of persons to converse with but still thanked God for the inspiration.
However, the thanks were getting less frequent.
At this time, in the third month, a friend and neighbor, Adam, son and heir of Adam Gurdon, Lord of Selbourne Manor, a lad like myself and only a few days younger than I, came riding up to father's house and asked for me, having not seen my person since my trip to Haslett. The porter sent Richard to him.
"Your porter, dear Richard," said Adam, quite annoyed, but he was ever and always annoyed with Richard, "is an idiot. I asked not for you but for your brother, Robert." He dismounted.
Richard chuckled. "It is not my porter who is the idiot. Why ask you for Robert?"
"I had heard of his learning in letters and recent dismissal from Haslett and so have come to seek him out for possible employment at Selbourne."
I oversaw all this from a tree at the front of the house which I had climbed an hour before. Now I wiped the tears from my eyes and started the descent, slipped and fell on my backside; that drew their attention. I brushed myself off and appeared to notice them for the first time.
"Dear friend!" I shouted and raced toward them, arms outstretched. Adam turned to greet me as I fought down my emotions knowing I could not have so miraculous a recovery under these suspicious circumstances.
"Dearest Gideon!" said I, flying past Adam and grabbing the neck of his horse, a chestnut stallion named Sparrow. Adam stared in horror as I spoke to the animal as an old and dear friend.
Richard related the sad story of my fate as Adam wept and looked pityingly at me. I fought back my own tears.
He gently took the reins from me. "Excuse me, uh, stranger," he was all choked up, "but I must take... er, Gideon away now." He mounted and rode slowly off.
"Do come back soon, dear Gideon," I yelled after them.
Afterward, I made the first of what were to be many visits to the woods at the west end of the fields where I could sit alone without drooling, which had begun to chap my chin.
I am certain that had I not gotten those brief respites alone when I could be perfectly normal once again that I truly must go mad. There I vowed to make it up to Adam someday. Perhaps soon, as a plot was hatching in my mind by which no one would find it unusual for me to return to normal. Then would I contact Adam and go to work at Selbourne.
By now, as you may have guessed, this affair had gone the way of most marvels: it had become quite a bother and infinitely more work than I had before undertaken, though not as exhausting, but even worse considering I had voluntarily taken this upon myself --- one mischance and I could be discovered and result in the best (worse) beating of my life.
I cursed my evil fortune and the Devil and even a bit of God for not providing me with a better design. At the time, I could not see my own fickleness. But God had one more piece of ill fortune for me as punishment for my wicked thoughts. This was the greatest blow of my entire young life, as I shall now relate.
It was a Wednesday, three months and more since Adam's visit, when another guest arrived; one closer to my heart even than he. And my heart fell as you cannot imagine when I saw Titty arrive with three attendants.
I took to the woods even before I was seen, but changed my mind before too deep in either them or my thoughts. Presently, I stumbled into the hall.
"There he is, the poor fool." My father and mother were there alone; Titty was nowhere to be seen.
"He would not be a 'poor fool' had you but told him sooner."
Astonished at my mother's tone, I lingered in the hall, forgetting all about Titty for the moment.
"Elizabeth, how was I to know the idiot would get his stupid head kicked in?" I meandered along the wall, pretending to admire the wainscoting. "There is a time and a place for every purpose and I felt it had to be handled that way."
"And now it is not to be handled at all. We haven't another son to give her to."
"If your father had not been so damned lecherous..."
Mother slammed a palm on the table. "Dare you slander the memory of my father?"
"... if he had not been so, he could have announced it that very night. By God's eyes! but he should have mentioned it sooner, as it was surely his design since Martinmas last. That was when he stated plainly in his will: 'and to my grandson of my body, Robert Hood, I leave two knights fees at Haslett for the life of he and his wife, Laetitia, daughter to my wife, Matilda, for them and the heirs of their bodies forever in return for service to my chancery.' There was the evidence; that was when he should have told them."
She taunted him. "'There is a time and place for every purpose.' Perhaps father felt it had to be handled that way, but for you to refrain from telling my brother of Robin's condition for this long..."
"I had entertained hopes of the boy's recovery. But I at last saw it was fruitless and wrote to Robert."
She scolded, "And it has been so long that now the poor girl thinks it some sort of ruse and so journeys brokenhearted to see with her own eyes."
"Perhaps she wishes to cure him by her presence." Father patted mother's hand. "I hope for all of us that she can."
And that, thought I, was a fair enough idea and so stumbled away in search of Titty to let this 'miracle' come to pass. But for my brother Henry, there should be no story to tell in these pages.
I found Titty but could not effect my recovery as I hoped, for she was not alone. Recovering sanity with Henry attempting to disrobe her and console her as he knew best would have sent me into far too large a scandalous rage to have done much good for anyone. I would have to content myself with remaining befuddled yet awhile longer.
At first I attempted to gain her attention and she could get rid of Henry, but he saw me first while trying to reach under her tunic.
His hand released the fabric. "Get out of here!"
Titty turned and at sight of me her eyes immediately filled with tears; Henry leaned over to console her further, his hands active.
As she pushed away at his hands, I saw the time had come to display my talents and teach my shorter, though older, brother some manners. I chose the voice of the 'king' as it was my favorite role. I gave it all the power I could muster.
"Hold, varlet, 'Hold!', I say! Your forces may have pillaged and burned my castle, Billibrag, but yet I live and as I do you shall not, I say, force thy affections in so cruel a manner upon my queen." I stepped to the right and warded off nobody with my left hand. "Order your knights to withdraw, prince Billibrag, and I shall combat thee singly as Apollo to ars."
He stared incredulously, a hand wavering above Titty's beautiful slim buttocks.
"Hear, I say. Be you gone, Robin!"
"And why say you, 'Robin'? Think not to deceive me, Billibrag, you shall not trap me with your spells." I pulled my belt from my waist. "Now Just Sword Malior, find your justice in this devil's bosom!"
By this time I was in a fever, fairly spitting all over myself, but brandished the belt like a virile weapon, laying into Henry with all my might. "Take that!, you fiend, and that!, foul spawn of Satan!"
After a couple of lashes from my leather, his wavering hand wavered not, but followed the rest of his body toward the exit. He cursed me viciously, warding off blows with upraised arm.
"And that!" cried I, smacking the belt one last time across both his buttocks. He yelped, flying out into the corridor, shouting curses as he made good his escape.
I turned to Titty. She lay on the bed in a great state of disarray, astonished by my entry as much as Henry's inglorious departure.
"Robin?" Those two pools pleaded with me. "Do you still remember me?"
I sat on the bed beside her. She took my hand and pressed it to her cheek. "Am I really your queen, Robin?"
I swallowed hard and wiped the tears from my eyes and the spittle from the corner of my mouth --- that is a damned hard habit to break when you are well used to it. "You are always my queen, Titty."
And we fell into each other's arms, kissing, crying, babbling, touching, but it was all soon lost in the passion kept these six months in hibernation.
At the time, one thinks not of the clumsiness of the first time, especially if it is the first time for both as this was. But after the noise from the encounter with Henry and the noise from the other encounter, I am surprised no one stumbled in and discovered us. I suppose that is a measure of how accustomed the household had become to my condition and such outbursts.
Afterwards, we lay there awhile quite satisfied with ourselves, talking softly about what circumstances brought us there and what we might do about it. She agreed that my plan would probably be the best method; cause the least amount of suspicion and likely to bring some benefits besides.
In all my days, there were only three persons I let on about my act --- a fourth guessed it, but he was the wisest king in the world --- and only one telling did I regret. Not this one.
* * * * *
Titty stayed on with us for two weeks; watching with my parents for any sign of improvement from me, fighting off the advances of my adulterous brothers, and meeting me in the woods, barn, or wherever seemed most private to discuss our plans for the future... as well as discover more of each others' pleasures.
At last we decided that she was to return home and have uncle Robert take over my inheritance until such time that I recovered. Meanwhile, she would enter a nunnery school and remain there until I could get the recovery effected.
Concerning the latter, my plan was to travel with father when next he went to Winchester; once there, I would visit the Shrine of St. Swithun and thus would occur one of the great many miracles that saint is known for.
I will admit here and now that this idea was not wholly and originally mine for my great-grandfather's uncle, William Hood, had been one of thee blind cured at the tomb of Thomas Becket and he avidly supported the canonization of the Archbishop because of it. But on his deathbed, he recanted, and confessed to the sin of falsification for he had never been blind. You see, his mistress was St. Thomas' niece, Rohesia.
So, these plans arranged, Titty returned home and prepared for a seclusion to last perhaps years --- so everyone was led to believe.
Then all we needed was a trip to Winchester. And the chance arrived two weeks following Easter. I was about all day before father's departure hinting quite subtly to one and all. The message got through and next morning I was bound for Winchester, birthplace of our then present King Henry, the third of that name.
The journey did much to improve my humor, this being the first I had gotten farther from home than the swine copse since my return from Haslett.
The road twisted and turned past fields, through villages and woods. And shortly before noon, father and my two brothers stopped aside the road, a few paces through the trees, to a stream running hard north along the roadway. While they rested and watered their mounts, I wandered off, back toward the road followed close by Richard, whom father motioned to keep watch after me. But he stayed well back of me as he had tasted my belt twice in the last week Titty was with us.
I came to the road and pretended to be riding along it, waving to persons both left and right, when I heard horses approach from my rear.
"Reign up, Ned!"
The hooves got even closer.
"Hold!"
The idiot held just in time for I could feel the beast's breath on my ear --- another pace and I might have been trampled to death under the hooves.
My 'horse' shied and I turned upon the strangers, two noble-looking youths with six men-at-arms. I decided to play the role to the hilt and perhaps get a few pennies for the 'poor fool',
"Good day, noble travellers, I am Good King Alanthor. And you," I said to blonde youth on the fore horse who looked much the same as I, only slightly taller, "you must be the famous King Hindfrond, whose enemy's behind is where you face front. And your companion," I nodded at the other youth, "can be none other than Almsman, King of Holdfast, for he was generous enough to have you hold before running me under."
The companion laughed heartily at my jest, but the blonde sat quite passive. "And why should I not run you under?" He spoke with an almost imperceptible lisp.
"For I am a humble king, fair king, and this is my road you ride. Would you put a man in his own kingdom with your horse?"
The companion laughed hysterically at this gibberish and I began to think I might yet meet with a few pence here if only the blonde could be amused.
So I drooled a bit more.
"If the road be your kingdom," asked the blonde, toying with his reins, "what then will you ask of us for riding it?"
"The sun," I replied.
"And why the sun?"
"My sun is a penny, noble king, and I count my days in pounds rather than months. Therefore all people can spend their time with nothing to show and can save it not. But my time can be spent profitably and saved in coffers."
At last the blonde broke into a grin. "Deep thinking, that; for a fool." I could almost feel the coins in my hand.
"Were you thinking, dear king?" I added, attempting to compound the humor. But that I should not have said, for he was off his steed in a moment and had lifted me some way off the road, shaking me violently. His face had become frightfully red, a slight twitch came to his left eye, and he completely lost control of his lisp.
"Tho, you dare to intimate that I am a fool, you thtupid lout?"
"You must be, gracious king, for..." My explanation was cut short.
"Thilenth!" he screamed, shaking me again. I had to think extremely fast between shakes to think at all. "Why dare you call me a fool, fool?" His face had lost some of the redness.
"Only a fool would spend so much time on a fool," I blurted before he could interrupt again. "Only those of a breed can mate. So why waste the time, if not the breed?" I smiled stupidly and drooled as fast and feverishly as I could until my mouth was dry as dust.
Slowly, he set me aright and turned to glare at his companion, who had almost fallen from his saddle in fits of laughter. As the blonde remounted, a grin played at the corner of his mouth. The companion leaned across and pounded him on the back, laughing uproariously still, and in a few moments they both were rolling in their saddles in merry mirth.
I and the men-at-arms relaxed and breathed a bit easier, you can wager. After settling down a bit, the companion whispered something to the blonde and I prepared to grovel in the dirt for the coins.
Instead, I got a rather nasty shock.
"Tell me, fool," not a hint of the lisp now, "if you have any wits about you: who is your master?"
"The King of Fools," says I, pointing at Richard, who now stepped from behind the tree to which he had taken, probably in the hope that these were highwaymen who would rid him of me.
"Be you this fool's master?"
"N-no, milord." He nervously twisted his riding gloves. "He is my own dear brother who, until recently, had full possession of his senses, but is now fuddled to an enormous degree."
"As is obvious. Tell me, how much shall I give you to take this fool for my own?"
My belly instantly became one big knot.
Richard hesitated a moment. Then, probably deciding the risk was too chancy to be too easily rid of me, said, "I must needs consult with my father, milord. One moment, if you please."
Once he had vanished into the thicket, I wanted to yell out that I was as sane as any of them but knew it would not do. Father might have to bear the onus of my imposture and I could wind up in a pretty fair pickle as well. My heart sank with our plans into the mire of misfortune I had brought, once again, upon myself. But there remained hope: though I should be fool to some noble household, I could yet find some way to escape or get cured and still get back to Titty. Perhaps... but it still looked dimmer each passing moment Richard was absent.
Father and Henry returned with Richard, leading their horses onto the roadway.
"How speak you, young sir?" asked father.
"I ask what shall I give you for your fool's life?"
"But what need you of him?"
The blonde smiled wryly. "I thought to take him as a gift to my bride's family, in Castile."
A thousand curses! thought I. This simply could not happen! As fool to an English noble I could at least get to Titty. What could I possibly do from Castile? Nothing! Surely father could not permit this, to have his son so far transported from him, to bear the wrath from mother at this cruel separation, to ruin his chance at controlling my share of Haslett!
Was I ever wrong!
Father went pale. "Castile, you say? And who be you, milord," he looked over the youth more closely, "and your father, might I ask, for the welfare of my son fool though he may be."
The blonde's smile got more wry, if such was possible. "I am Edward, Prince Royal and heir to the throne of England, Lord of Chester, Wales, Ireland, and Gascony, son of Henry of Winchester, King of England."
Father and brothers fell to their knees, as did my hopes. For I knew then that I was bound for Castile --- who could refuse a Royal Request? Not father. (Later in life, there were many requests, orders, decrees, and commandments from the throne I found great pleasure in disregarding; but few were as intimate with the crown as I was to become.)
Before I could recover my senses from the shock, father had made certain that the Lord of Chester knew exactly WHO it was giving him this fool, and all bade me a rather hasty farewell.
"And you, fool, do you not bow to royalty?" asked Henry of Cornwall, cousin to Edward, for that is who the companion turned out to be.
"I bow only to kings and gods," said I, "so I bow now to Hindfrond and Almsman." And I did so, falling face forward into the dirt. They laughed.
"Mount behind my serjeant," said the Prince, indicating one of the men-at-arms.
I looked sorrowfully toward where I had left my 'horse' grazing. "Shall I leave Toadclumper here alone?" I shed a tear. "Could I not ride my trusty steed a short way further?"
The Lord Edward assented, the pair laughed royally, and I remounted my steed and headed southward, the men-at-arms following.
Goodbye, Titty, I thought, and goodbye inheritance. And goodbye to England.
The odd trio rode ever southward to the sea.
- three -
I was in quite a funk as you can well imagine. A thousand times the horses' hooves hit the road and as many times did I curse myself and my foul luck; instead of getting nearer my marriage, inheritance, and life of leisure with Titty, this fool's role was now permanently set upon me.
Then fresh light shewed itself to me: more a fool was I than I seemed. This was far grander an opportunity than ever before should I deal my blows rightly. Within a year, thought I, I could as easily become unfuddled in Castile and assume a proper role --- if, I reminded myself, if Castile had any such thing --- and wealth enough to send for Titty. Uncle Robert could continue maintenance of the estate until our return. Yes, surely the situation was brighter than it seemed only this morning.
I smiled and let out a loud whoop and cheer. The serjeant behind whom I now rode chuckled at my useless folly; I cared not, but put an eye to the scenery about us.
It had been some two hours since the parting from father and we were making quite a better pace than that group had. From scraps of conversation about me, I learned that Edward and Henry were bound from Basing Castle, and three days of hunting, for Portsmouth, from which the Prince would sail for Gascony.
By this time, the rise of Stoner Hill had been left behind and we now descended to Petersfield some two miles distant. To the right could be see Butser Hill, the highest land in Hampshire it is said, from the top of which I could see the ends of the earth when I was aged eight. Beyond it was the Forest of Bere, slowly lost to view as we descended to the village.
Petersfield had not changed since my last visit years before. Numerous Saturday markets had I ventured here, and twice even for the Saint Andrew's fair. Presently there were throngs of people ahead and I realized with a start that it must be Saturday and time for the market. It was a little unsettling that I had not known what day of the week it was.
And then the sounds were all about us, smells of the market filling my nose --- much as it could around the dust of the road. Looking around, I noticed Henry no longer with us.
"Fetch beer and bread," Edward yelled above the din to one of the men-at-arms, who then broke away from our group into the crowd, parting them with "Make way for the King's business." A wave of curses seemed to follow him through the market.
This was my first, though far from the last, glimpse of the unpopularity of the king. Many such references had I heard in the gossip from Maud and Titty, but I bade it naught for politics was of little interest to me. I knew not then what to make of it nor had I the time as the man returned shortly with the oddments and we all set to with a hearty appetite. Myself taking especial care to spill as much as my hunger allowed on the ground, much to the delight of my company.
Then Henry returned and we journeyed onward, turning on our right in the market, heading south.
The sun shone straight above us as we left Petersfield and began the climb by Butser Hill. We passed Buriton, Clanfield, Chalton, Catherington, and more as I watched the looming wall of Bere ahead.
This was the farthest south I had been on land, having sailed to Wight from Southampton Water, and knew the passage from Bere would release us in sight of Portsmouth, from where I would soon sail southward again, to Gascony, leaving England aft.
Once free of the woods, we passed close by Coshan to the small tongue of land extending out to the island on which sat Portsmouth. Right and left could be seen the masts of ships sailing up to Portchester or about Hayling Island; my eyes were big as eggs in anticipation, my heart pounded.
"Cousin," called Edward to Henry, "how old say you is my new ward?"
Henry looked me over a goodly turn. "Eighteen, or perhaps only seventeen. That from his size; from his mind I cannot say. Two, perhaps." He laughed.
"Rightly you speak, Hank. I had also thought eighteen. Then though he be four years beyond me, I stand two or three fingers above him." He patted his leg with a hand. "So, thanks belong to these long shanks of mine, lest I be of your height, cousin."
"Oh, Ned, I do wish you would stop this continual prattle about your size. Since that time when you heard some of the 'common folk' call you 'Longshanks' you have had your share of airs. So let be, dear cousin. There is naught wrong with my size, cousin, and I daresay this fool and I shall both probably grow beyond your height."
Edward laughed. "Come, Hank, let us not have a sour turn so close to our destination. Many a fine man has resulted in less than my stature."
I think now, had I let known then that I was a year younger than the Prince, my head would have been clove in two on the spot. (Later Edward would have me stoop in his presence, so that he might seem the taller.)
Soon we halted before a handsome structure in the town proper while the serjeant yelled for someone to open the gate. Upon which, we entered the courtyard and dismounted.
I followed the pair of nobles into the great hall while servants rushed to aid in settling the horses.
Within was an even greater rushing about: servants skittered to and fro doing the bidding of a number of officials as well as the Queen herself. Fair and upright, she was, with half a dose of the saucy, disarming girl of Provence still about her, but quite too haughty a piece for my blood, I'll have you know.
Ordering servants about: Do this! Do that! without hardly a mind to see that they were actually doing it, she took a great measure of pleasure and satisfaction just yelling at everyone. Yet have I seen a Queen or noble pack a chest and tie it to a horse properly with the speed and quality of a stout chambermaid, though they give the orders as though they knew just how one should go about it.
She hardly noticed our entrance, so taken was she at her own organizational finesse, but did manage to hold out her hand dangling from the wrist which Edward held and bowed over. Henry did likewise while Edward motioned to me and tried to gain his mother's ear. I shuffled forward toward the hand still extended for the last act of homage as he tried in vain. As she chose to disregard Edward, a small crisis resulted.
I suppose I could have plunged onward, taken that hand firmly, and drooled all over its dainty whiteness, but it would not have endeared me to her, I dare say. The crisis was well met, however, when I stumbled over my own foot and crashed headlong at the Queen's feet.
And that quite put an end to all the commotion in the hall. All eyes went to the Queen as she slowly lowered her hand and looked down on my pitiable form, struggling to right itself. I bit back a curse at my clumsiness for I had not maneuvered the fall; playing the fool was becoming more than just an act.
I stood to face her, then held out my own hand as she had done, took it with my other hand and bowed. Then I beamed broadly and quite stupidly, drawing muffled snickers from the servants.
You might not think that much, but I dare you to try it before a Queen with both her eyes blazing fire, lips trembling white with anger. I doubt you could do more than blanch.
She kept those two blue blazes on me while she spoke quite deliberately to Edward, each word cold as stone. "What sort of prank is this, Edward?"
"It is no prank, majesty, but a fool."
She waved her hand and turned away. "Then bother not with him. Send the beggar to the kitchen for a loaf and be rid of him. We have much to do."
"No, mother." He continued quickly to ward off her icy comment sure to strike, "This fool is not to be cast out, mother, it is a gift."
"To me? I most certainly hope not!"
"No, mother, he is for Alphonso."
She was suddenly amused. "The Castilian? Very befitting. But it shall be interesting to see which of the pair shall create the most mirth."
"Yes, milady."
"But now to important matters. It would behoove you to consult with Roger forthwith about the removal of your possessions to the ships. And," she cast askance at me, "see if suitable baggage cannot be found for your... gift."
"Yes, mother."
We three moved to the other end of the hall where Edward consulted with Roger as instructed, a slim white-haired fellow wearing a black and orange cloak trimmed tastefully in gold.
"Take him to the kitchen," spoke Edward to Henry when through with Roger, "then see if Stephen will take us to the new pleasure house. It has been days!"
"Indeed it has!" Henry laughed, then took my arm and turned me. "Come along now."
He went toward an opening in the north wall and along went I panting and drooling enough for a brace of winded hounds. Midway down the corridor were two doors, buttery to the left, the pantry opposite, and ten paces further along brought us into a large warm room filled with more scurrying servants equal to the commotion in the hall: this was the kitchen.
"Hail, Stephen!" Henry called to a stout fellow encased in a much besplattered white apron, wielding a small ax over a carcass on the central table. The ax sank into the meat with a muted thud.
"Hail and good day to you, Lord Henry." He wiped back a lock of graying hair with a thick and bloody wrist. "Care thee for a little nourishment?"
"Actually, Edward and I would have you show us the new house in town for our nourishment. But Edward's fool here could use some food."
"Fool?" Wide-eyed, the large man scanned me well. "This lad looks enough to be his brother."
"Aye, but you would best be wise not to let Edward hear you liken a fool to him."
"Ho! Right you are, Lord Henry! Forgive my fishwife's tongue in my foolish head. We all are aware the Prince wields his temper with a vengeance." He laughed loudly.
Sure I am that more was exchanged between the two but I paid it no heed as my attention was distracted by the entry from the back yard of a raven-haired beauty carrying a pail of water. She set it down beside the fireplace with a grace unusual for one of her class, and bent to stoke the fire. Something within me stirred as I stared at the cloth of her tunic, nestled against and outlining her back and fulsome hindquarters.
"Sylvia!" Stephen motioned to the lass.
"Yes, father?"
"Bring your water over here and set it on the table." He took his apron off as she obeyed. Then he washed the blood from two sinewy arms while she stood to the side looking first disinterestedly at I and Henry, busy with a finger up his nose, and then at the floor.
Stephen dried his hands and motioned at me with the cloth. "Get Edward's fool here something to eat. Lord Henry and I have matters to discuss."
He then gave peremptory orders to some others in the kitchen and left with Henry, at which signal most the help fled outdoors. Two young men took over on the carcass where Stephen had left off, and Sylvia moved to a cupboard by the wall.
I was lost in thought a moment.
"Fool!" Turning left at her sweet young voice, I saw her indicating a stool. "Here is refreshment for you."
I stared at her blankly.
"Here!" She bent and rapped on the stool, causing the small loaf and cup of ale to jump. "Come take refreshment."
She beckoned. I had hoped to wait until she would have to come and lead me by the hand, but she did not look predisposed to do that sort of thing. So I stumbled toward her thinking of refreshment other than bread and thinking of yet another use for the stool, but disguised it all well enough by falling on the fare with a passion. When next I looked around, she was gone.
You may think I thought of my Laetitia in that moment. You may think I put this infatuation out of my mind as carnal sin. You may think any damned thing you please, as Titty was too far away to be of any use to me there. And I have known enough priests and monks whose entrance to heaven will be made astride Saint Mary Magdalene, if at all, to worry overmuch about the spiritual consequences. Still, had those two not remained behind to carve the carcass, I should have had to think again about grabbing her on the spot.
Thinking about her while I ate, what remained foremost in my mind was not her lithesome form, but the massiveness of her father's arms and his dexterity with an ax. Even a fool can go too far --- and her father would certainly call that too far.
With a heavy sigh I finished the meager morsels and returned to the great hall where the activity had, if possible, increased. The servants dashed madly about, helter-skelter, to the wildly conflicting orders of the three officials and, of course, the Queen.
"Morgan!" called an official in green and gold robes, standing on the balcony above, to a short servant laboring under the load of a large oaken chest. Morgan turned to answer only to bring the corner of the chest into the knee of another fellow hurrying past. This threw both of them to the floor and instantly to each other's throats.
"Thomas! Morgan!" shouted the official overhead, waving his arms impotently. "Stop this horseplay at once! There is much more work to be done."
With a scowl and a curse, Thomas continued along his earlier course. Morgan turned his attention upward again sans load.
"Now, Morgan, are all the chambers along this corridor," he indicated the one behind himself, "cleared of what is going?"
"Excepting the bed in the far chamber, milord."
"Very good. It shall wait until morning."
"Yes, milord." Morgan nodded vigorously and carried the chest away.
Meanwhile, I wandered around the perimeter of the hall, watching my step between racing porters, glancing in at every portal and alcove. Most were small withdrawing rooms; one was a stair leading to the floor above. I disturbed one gentleman who had apparently dozed off in the privy.
In one withdrawing room, I found an incompletely packed chest and no one in attendance. Chancing upon a hand mirror, I held it up to gaze at myself and became acutely aware of the reason Sylvia had not had a second glance at me: I was a walking sty. Dirt from rolling in the road that morning still clung to face and hair, giving it a brown cast; stoop-shouldered, disarrayed from head to foot --- not a pleasant sight. All the more amazing that Stephen had seen any resemblance between myself and the Prince.
That moment gave birth to an idea, anything but divinely inspired, which at best could satisfy my desires and at least cause some mirth. It was one of those ideas that can change a person's life completely, yet I had not known it then. Yes, I had only one thing in mind as I looked over the clothing in the chest and chose some suitably elegant costume.
Booty tucked in my stained clothing, I made for the privy, now unoccupied, to claim the bucket of water left there for flushing. Back to the hall, two steps to the right, and up the stair, completely unnoticed in the confusion there.
Above I turned down the vacated corridor to the farthest chamber wherein I enacted a transformation. In minutes, the mirror reflected a noble visage, dressed in elegance.
After secreting both bucket and soiled clothing behind the bed, I made my way back to the kitchen, again without notice. Out in the rear yard, as the kitchen was vacant, I found all the servants making the best of a short respite.
"Sylvia!" I called in a commanding voice; perhaps a trifle too high, but in a moment she was before me, bowing.
"Yes, milord."
Good, thought I, she does not recognize me. Hell! God Himself could but barely tell the difference between this young noble and that beggar of a fool.
"I have ridden hard south from Winchester this day to spend a last evening with my royal cousins before their departure for the southern country." 'Royal cousins', indeed! "Your father has directed me to seek you out for some refreshment." This I had to say for excuse to see her, though my stomach cared not for more food.
"Yes, milord." She bowed again before leading me back into the kitchen. But this time it was no short trip to the cupboard to fetch ale and a loaf to set upon a stool. No, that was common fare, and not fitting for a 'Royal Cousin' like me. She went into the buttery and brought forth a flagon of wine of Bordeaux and some white cheese, then into the pantry for a fine fresh loaf of the best ground flour. All this she set on a tray and held it aloft, gazing at me patiently.
"Well? Take it to my chamber."
She looked worried but did not move.
"Has not a chamber been readied for me?"
"Not to my knowledge, milord."
I acted indignant. "I see my arrival has been completely overlooked in the mayhem." Truer words... and all that. "This way then." I led the way back to the hall, up the stair without apparent notice, and along the deserted corridor, making a show of looking in all the rooms we passed.
"Ah, here is one that has passed unscathed in the maelstrom," said I at the entry to the bedchamber. "Set it on the bed."
She did so and bowed to go.
"Wait," said I, sitting on the bed, "and tell me of the comings and goings this week past at Portsmouth. Sit." I indicated a place on the bed across the tray from me.
So we sat and talked of recent events, though nothing of interest struck my fancy but her. She joined me in the repast and wine, after some coaxing, which soon found us side by side, laughing. I patted her leg and the hand remained as I kissed her neck. In a time, the hand was no longer on her leg, nor my lips on her neck.
Her fire was consuming, her body magnificent, as our robes were soon in a rumpled pile beside the bed over which I bulled her lustily, the noises from downstairs covering any noise we made. At the end I thought the wench was about to rend my flesh from my bones.
Exhausted, we lay panting in our sweat, she murmuring about my lordly ways and me stroking her backside. In this bliss, this joyous moment of calm in the maelstrom, the earth opened up beneath me and threatened to swallow me for all time:
Edward entered, and stared.
During the conversation before the romp, I had thought once or twice about her father entering, but it had passed from my mind in the heat of the moment. But this! I had supposed he would be out whoring for hours.
Like an imbecile, my first reaction was to cover my person. Sylvia and I quickly pulled on our tunics and got out of bed.
"Beg pardon, milord." She bowed to Edward and was gone.
The Prince stood immobilized, staring incredulously at me, darkening by degrees. The air was filled with the calm before the thunder.
It was then that I realized my mistake. When he walked in, I should have just smiled stupidly and drooled on the bed, regardless of Sylvia's reaction. But it was now too late to begin with the drooling. My wits had failed me and I had got caught between two roles. And Edward's face betrayed his understanding of the situation as fully as I.
"By God'th Blood, I thould kill you," he roared, drawing the dagger. "I think that ith what I thall do!" He stepped forward deliberately, red as a fever; my mind raced.
"Sire, what angers you so?"
He stopped, breathing heavily. "You are no more a fool than I, thpawn of Thatan!"
"That's true, milord, but..."
"Thilenth! To think I thought to be kind to you and you preyed upon my good grathe tho that you could laugh at me behind my back! Ha! Now thall I have the latht laugh!"
He started forward again, knife poised. I leapt onto the bed warding him off with a hand.
"Wait, sire. What would be your explanation for killing me?" Damn! Thought I... wrong tack. No one would bother the Crown Prince with the death of a fool. Perhaps I should play on his superiority. I wiped the sweat from my burning eyes.
"Shall you tell them I tricked you? Shall you tell them I am not the fool, but you?"
He paused. "Thilenth! You think to trick me with your lieth!"
"But, sire," I began sinking to my knees and had to stop myself, "dead I can bring you only embarrassment, but I alive I can..."
"... bring me continual embarrathment, you thlimey..."
"No, sire, I..."
"I need only tell them you were an athathin thent to kill me and the fool wath but your dithguithe. They would not then call me a fool."
"No, sire, they would not. But neither then would you have use of me."
"What do you mean by that?" He lowered the blade a trifle.
"If I were an assassin, sire, surely I would have come better prepared than this. What profits me being here at all, running the risk of the wrath of the Lord Edward... and do not forget, sire, it was you who approached me this morning. I did not ask..."
"Tho, you thay I make a fool of mythelf?" The blade twitched.
"No, sire, I mean only that had you been alone this morning, I should not have hesitated to reveal my true self."
"And why should that make a difference to thomeone like you?" He was calming now, breathing more regular, and even regaining some control over his lisp; though the blade still aimed in my direction.
I decided to tell all as truthfully as possible, starting with the expectations at Haslett and their downfall at grandfather's death. By the time I got to my several attacks on my brothers, the knife was long since sheathed and Edward was even chuckling. Then I mentioned the desire to journey to St. Swithun's for the 'miracle'.
"And that's when you happened upon me this morning, sire; had you not seen me until tomorrow, there would have been no fool to see."
"So, now I understand. And this little escapade with the serving wench... wanting to feel like the nobility, eh?"
"Along with the more pressing need, yes, milord."
He smiled, knowingly, "And it was perfect but for one thing."
"And that is?"
"We have found it advisable to spawn no common bastards but in places where it should pass undetected. That is why we keep a goodly number of nobles at court:" he winked, "for their goodly noble daughters. But we have no such casual affairs with the commonalty..."
"But in the whore houses?" I interrupted.
"Precisely! Any bastard born there could belong to anyone. Otherwise we might find some common beggar like yourself attempting to become royalty, but on a more permanent basis than you have done."
"I see. And what would England do with a commoner for a king?"
"What indeed!" He laughed heartily.
In this air of familiarity, I decided to ask a very important request of Edward; important only afterwards, seeming a minor thing at the time.
"So, sire, may I perhaps return now to my home and plan another miracle?"
He rested chin on hand and looked me over intently, a gleam appearing in his eye; a gleam that would come to mean he was about to do some folly.
"No," he said flatly. Standing, he began to pace beside the bed. "I have said, 'this fool is for Alphonso' and so shall you be. You shall be my eyes and ears in the south." He stopped to point a finger at me. "Yes, you shall be my spy."
He laid a hand on my shoulder, reassuringly, though I was not reassured.
"We must carry on as we have set forth, Robin, and when you have served your purpose there I shall recall you to England. And you shall then be my spy elsewhere."
"But, sire, what if I cannot maintain the ruse?"
He brushed the objection aside. "No, you fooled even me. There is no one who could guess what you really are. And think, Robin, of the great rewards you shall reap: manors and lands without number. Yes, and even your marriage to Laetitia if you abide by me."
What could I do? Not much!
"All right then, sire. So be it."
"So be it! And, Robin, 'Royal Cousin', when we are alone, you shall speak to me confidentially as though you are my own conscience. At those times, you may call me 'Ned'."
"Yes, sire... Ned."
"Good!" He slapped my back. "Come along when you are properly displayed."
I sat and watched him leave the room, dumbfounded.
I was on a first name basis with a king-to-be.
I was going to be wealthy.
I was trapped.
If you enjoyed this and would like to read more, please write me at
forrest (dot) sherwood (at) verbotham (dot) com
and if there is enough interest, I will upload some more of the series.
All content Copyright © 2010 by Forrest Sherwood |
