Lady Marian

Chapter 9

My aunt entertained a few ladies from court in the sumptuous private chambers set aside for her. The band of gossips huddled in the corridor outside, no doubt awaiting an invitation to join in the fête—an invitation which would never come. I felt some small satisfaction walking passed their envious eyes. As I approached, servants in purple livery swung open the great iron doors without hesitation, bowing before me.

I did hold some small claim to the throne, after all.

A cheerful fire illuminated tapestries standing sentry against the far wall. Dragons woven in the finest hues of gold and green battled before a rather haggard looking Saint George. For a moment I stood still in shock. Those were the tapestries from which I had learnt the story of the dragon-slayer from Lady Huntingdon herself as she wove them, her consumptive hands determined to weave the finest details by the light of her ever-roaring fires. The rumours were true then, Sir Guy really had pillaged Huntingdon Manor since Robin's demise. I wondered what he would take from my chambers to hang in his castle.

"There she is, my dear Marian! Is she not the most beautiful thing you have seen?"

"Aunt Eleanor." I rushed to take her outstretched hand. "How I have longed for your visit."

The queen motioned with her fan at a woman in gold brocade seated next to her. "You must make way now."

The woman, head bowed low, vacated her seat to join a few others at a sideboard loaded with grapes and sweetmeats. I sat on the red velvet cushioned chair with my aunt still holding onto my hand as if I was a child that might wreak havoc with the sideboard.

"How was your journey, Aunt?"

The queen dowager fanned herself as she spoke. "Travelling country roads hounded by miserable paupers is a necessary evil, my dear Marian. A necessary evil. But one which I would relive twenty times over to see your pretty face." She patted my cheek as if I were a child.

I cringed at my aunt's patronizing. "Are you warm, Aunt? Shall we not move away from the fire?"

My aunt shook her head, continuing to gesture with the fan. The garden of lilies embroidered on it seemed to sway in an imaginary breeze as she rocked it back and forth.

"Now, if you returned to London with me, I would not have to venture out here to see you again. Do not mention it, Marian." Aunt Eleanor snapped the fun shut, holding it to my lips. "Do not mention it. I have quite made up my mind to bring you back to court with me."

"I am flattered. Truly I am, Aunt Eleanor, but I cannot think of leaving my father at this moment." Robin had to but give the word and I would go.

My aunt raised her eyebrows. "Your father? And what is wrong with your father that you may not leave him? He has grown quite frail, has he?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"I was going to say, I would have mistaken him for a man half his age." The lines around my aunt's eyes narrowed as she peered down at me. She tilted her head towards me a little more and lowered her voice. "You cannot stay in your father's house much longer, my dear Marian."

"I do not intend to."

"And you should not be given to some country squire either. You deserve to be a princess at the very least. I could make you a queen."

My aunt glanced over her shoulder at Alan a-Dale, playing morosely on his lute in the corner. "Besides, the music you should hear. The poets would move you to tears. It would be a great comfort to have you by my side, Marian." The queen again caressed my cheek. Unease must have betrayed itself in my eyes.

I placed my hand over my aunt's. "I wish to be a comfort to you while the king is detained."

Aunt Eleanor sighed. "I pray Richard can return to England as soon as possible. I dispatched Longchamp to Austria a fortnight ago to negotiate his release."

"What release, Aunt? I meant King Richard's extended stay in this Crusade."

The queen's soft hand circled around mine. "Our king was on his way home. Was, Marian. He has been taken prisoner by the Holy Roman Emperor."

"And you have sent the Lord Chancellor with his ransom?"

"His ransom?" The regent shook her head. "There is not money enough in the Exchequer for that. We can only pray that we can negotiate his safe return." The fan fluttered a little over my aunt's silk covered heart.

At the sideboard, a gaggle of pastel coloured courtiers giggled over a platter of sweetmeats and grapes. Light from the great roaring fire flickered over the dragons woven into the tapestry behind the sideboard, giving the appearance of the beasts hungering after the capricious ladies. Still my aunt waved her fan, merging the embroidered lilies into one purple mass. My head felt dizzy. My stomach fluttered. The king held prisoner and here we sit, gathering to congratulate a country law keeper.

My aunt extended her arm around my shoulders, drawing my ear closer to her lips. "So, you see, Marian, it would be so much a relief to have you near me during this time—and perhaps nearer still. With Longchamp I have dispatched an ambassador to our Holy Father, requesting that he order the emperor to release my son on pain of excommunication. As well, my dear Marian, I have requested that he make a special allowance, dispensation, for..." Aunt Eleanor nodded knowingly, letting her voice trail off.

The fire felt too hot, as if Saint George's dragons in the tapestries were breathing down my neck.

"Why, Marian, you look quite pale."

"Forgive me, Aunt." I gripped the arm of the chair as I rose. "I am afraid I feel a bit faint."

My aunt motioned with her fan to a lady in waiting. "Charlotte dearest, see Lady Marian to her chambers. It is quite warm in here, indeed."

"Pray, Aunt, excuse me. I will be quite fine on my own. Just a bit of fresh air and I shall be quite alright." I hurried from the room, dear Charlotte sulking behind me.

I rushed down the corridor, passing servants in brown tunics with their heads bowed low, around the corner to the east tower. My fingers curled into the fabric of my gown as I careened up the spiralling stone stairs of the tower. Once I stumbled, tearing open the skin on my shin. I rushed on until I reached the turret. Leaning out the casement that looked down upon the market streets, I inhaled draughts of fresh air.

The last time my aunt had sought a papal dispensation, it was to annul her marriage to the king of France. As soon as the pope granted her request, she turned around and married King Henry II.

I had forgotten who my mother's sister was. I had looked forward to maternal comfort where I would find only ambition. I could make you a queen. The words rung in my ears until I feared even the peasants at market would hear. I sunk to the floor, tearing off my veil as I held my head in my hands.

Sir Guy was the least of my worries now. If my aunt was sending messages to Pope Gregory, it wasn't just to help release my cousin. The Holy Father would have to approve a marriage between first cousins.

I could make you a queen. But how could that be if...

Sluggish footsteps sounded on the tower steps. With haste I replaced the veil and circlet on my head and flounced my rumpled gown over the blood drying on my leg. With the very end of my flowering trumpet sleeve, I wiped away the tears that had stained my face. I took a deep breath as the footsteps drew near, readying myself to draw the dagger if need be.

A green felt cap appeared, followed by a weary lute player. Alan-a-Dale leaned against the entrance to the stairwell.

"Lady Marian, I need your help."