The Emma of Normandy 2-book Collection: Shadow on the Crown and The Price of Blood. Patricia Bracewell

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       February 1002

       Fécamp, Normandy

      The purpose of the English delegation to Normandy became clear as soon as the news spread of the recent death of the consort of the English king. Although Duke Richard maintained a stony silence about what had occurred during that first meeting in the great hall, everyone assumed that the archbishop and the ealdorman had brought a proposal of marriage for Mathilde, and that it would be accepted. A liaison with the English throne would raise Richard’s prestige in all of Christendom. He would be a fool to turn it down, and Richard was no fool.

      Nevertheless, the negotiations dragged on for weeks, wreathed in secrecy behind the cloistered walls of nearby Trinity Abbey. Gunnora, who attended each session, returned every night to the palace so grim-faced that neither her daughters nor even the intrepid Judith dared to question her.

      When eventually Ealdorman Ælfric was seen to board his ship and set sail with a document that bore the ducal seal, the palace hummed with excitement and anticipation. Emma waited with her sister for word that Mathilde must attend her mother and brothers to be counselled regarding King Æthelred and the role that Mathilde would play, but no summons came. Instead, the web of secrecy that had been cast about the proceedings between the Norman duke and the ministers of the English king remained impenetrable. The dowager duchess went into seclusion at Fécamp’s Priory of St Ann, while Richard and Robert left Fécamp altogether, riding with the English archbishop to the abbey of Saint-Wandrille to pray for the success of their endeavour.

      Judith, who had no more inkling than anyone else about what had taken place in the abbey cloisters, nevertheless followed through with her plan to order new wardrobes for both of Richard’s sisters in preparation for their future nuptials. Fabrics of the finest silk, linen, and wool arrived daily from Rouen. Gowns, chemises, stockings, and headrails spilled from busy fingers until every chamber at Fécamp became a storehouse of wedding finery.

      Mathilde, who should have been at the centre of all of the preparations, had taken ill again, laid low by headaches that would not let her sleep. Emma spent long hours at her sister’s bedside relaying every scrap of rumour and gossip that she gleaned about the English king and his court, although her own heart was heavy at the coming separation. Mathilde, she guessed, must feel it even more, for she would leave everything familiar behind her. Worse yet, beyond that parting lay the reality of the king, so many years older than his new bride, and in addition to that, the challenges of an English court filled with strangers speaking a foreign tongue.

      Much would be expected of the king’s new wife, Emma thought, burdens that she could only begin to imagine. How would Mathilde, who had never been physically strong, cope with the pressures of that new life? Often Emma lay awake in the cold watches of the night thinking about those burdens, her heart filled with dread for her sister, knowing that beside her Mathilde, too, lay awake in the dark. Yet each sister kept her own counsel.

      And so the weeks passed until, late one February afternoon, the dowager duchess returned from St Ann’s, and Emma was summoned to wait upon her. She found her mother alone in her chamber, circlet and headrail cast aside and the long grey braid of her hair coiled atop her head. She was warming her hands at the brazier, and the light from below accentuated fine creases around her mouth and eyes. She nodded to Emma, then turned her gaze back to the glowing coals, and for a time was silent. Emma saw an unfamiliar weariness in her face, and a resemblance to Mathilde that she had never before noticed in the sharpness of her nose and the thin line of her mouth.

      Finally her mother spoke, almost as if to herself. ‘Events have overtaken us, and I cannot wait for your brothers’ return to set things in motion.’ She glanced at Emma and nodded towards a nearby stool. ‘You had best sit down, Emma, for I have a great deal to say to you.’

      Emma’s heart clouded with dread. She sat upon the stool and waited for whatever hammer-stroke was to come.

      ‘As you have no doubt guessed,’ Gunnora said, ‘the king of England has sued for your sister’s hand in marriage.’ She glanced at Emma, then began to pace the room. ‘King Æthelred wants something in return, of course – something more than a nubile young bride to grace his bed. And so, in recompense for the great honour that he bestows upon us in taking a Norman wife, he will expect your brother to close his harbours to the Danes. His emissaries have not said as much directly. They have danced around the issue like virgins round a maypole, but it is clear what they want, and your brother has given them every reason to believe that he will grant it.’

      Emma leaned forward in her chair, her eyes on her mother, her mind racing. She had been so preoccupied with the challenges that this marriage presented for her sister that she had forgotten the peril that her brother risked by agreeing to it. Æthelred of England was the mortal enemy of King Swein of Denmark. With Mathilde’s marriage to Æthelred, Richard, too, became an enemy of the infamous Swein Forkbeard, making Normandy a target for Danish raiders.

      ‘In fact,’ Gunnora went on, ‘your brother cannot deny the Danes access to our harbours and our markets. If he should do so, Swein Forkbeard would turn his shipmen upon us like starving dogs on a wounded stag. He would harry our coasts for plunder, and then barter it quite happily in Hamburg or Bremen. The English king could not come to our aid, for he has no fleet. The French king would merely rejoice in our misfortune. It would be a catastrophe for every Norman settlement that СКАЧАТЬ