flourishing a dramatic gesture. “Here is another in distress over your narrow escape from mortal injury.” To Ethelflad announced, “The Lady is unharmed, although she does not seem to appreciate the danger she had placed herself in.”
Ethelflad faltered, puzzled. “What in God’s name are you prattling about? It is my brother’s position that is in danger! Æthelred is threatening to banish him into exile. Go, please, to beg your husband to support Leofsige’s innocence. He has been unjustly accused.”
Gathering her gown as if avoiding contagion Godegifa stepped back a pace. “And taint ourselves with your misfortune? I think not! Alfhelm warned Leofsige to be wary of overstepping the boundary, but your brother never was one to listen to sense. He is as foolish as you are.”
For a moment Ethelflad stared at the woman she had thought was a friend, then swept past and sank to her knees before Emma. “My Lady, I plead with you to intercede, to petition your husband into rethinking this madness! My brother was but doing his duty as an Ealdorman.”
From across the room Gunnhilda said scornfully, “By hanging a royal appointed reeve in front of his wife and children? Without the legality of a trial?”
Ethalflade turned her head quickly towards the Danish woman, retorted with as much scorn, “The man refused to obey my brother’s orders and evict a family who had not paid their rent. He was insubordinate.”
Emma withdrew her hands from Ethelflad’s and wiped the intrusive feel of sweat from her palms onto her gown. How dare they? How dare these two conceited, assuming women attempt to use her so blatantly?
“I have heard what happened,” she stated. “I have learnt enough English to comprehend the whispered conversations and aggrieved protests rustling through my husband’s court. Is it not equally as insubordinate for your brother to presume the duties of an anointed King?” She looked across at Gunnhilda. Announced, “Word appears to be spreading of our afternoon’s excitement, Gunnhilda. Your husband will most assuredly hear of it and grasp the wrong end of the spear.”
Ignoring the woman kneeling on the floor, she stood, went to her friend, said, “You look exhausted. Until my physician arrives, rest on my bed. I shall personally seek Pallig and send him to you.”
Walking to the door, Emma smiled at the apprehensive Leofstan, hovering on the threshold, his hands clenched, hopping from foot to foot. He was eight and ten years old, anxious to please, scared to offend, and mortified to have failed. His worry turning to a radiant grin as Emma laid her hand on his arm, her words leaving him uncompromisingly devoted to her service.
“I am more than satisfied with your ability, Leofstan, and I am full aware that neither you nor any of my men would knowingly allow harm to come to me. You shall escort me to find Pallig.”
Appalled at being ignored, Ethelflad scrabbled to her feet. “But you cannot…”
Swivelling on her heel, Emma interrupted, furious, “What can I not do, madam? Your brother took it upon himself to hang a King’s man. The King’s reeve, not your brother’s. He hanged a man who had the right to a trial of judgement. Aside from that, why come to me for aid? You and Godegifa have often expressed the opinion that I am a child with no sense or intelligence, and that Godegifa’s daughter would have made a better Queen than I. I suggest, therefore, you seek her aid, not mine.”
15
Darkness had fallen an hour ago. The shutters had been closed at dusk, candles and lamps lit. Emma sat before her table, dressed only in her under-shift, with a soft lamb’s-wool mantle draped across her shoulders, her hair hanging unbraided. She had been combing it, but her hand had paused at the sound of the door-latch lifting, the tread of boots coming into the room. Æthelred. What would he say about her afternoon’s escapade? Despite the bravado she had shown to Godegifa, she
Ethelflad faltered, puzzled. “What in God’s name are you prattling about? It is my brother’s position that is in danger! Æthelred is threatening to banish him into exile. Go, please, to beg your husband to support Leofsige’s innocence. He has been unjustly accused.”
Gathering her gown as if avoiding contagion Godegifa stepped back a pace. “And taint ourselves with your misfortune? I think not! Alfhelm warned Leofsige to be wary of overstepping the boundary, but your brother never was one to listen to sense. He is as foolish as you are.”
For a moment Ethelflad stared at the woman she had thought was a friend, then swept past and sank to her knees before Emma. “My Lady, I plead with you to intercede, to petition your husband into rethinking this madness! My brother was but doing his duty as an Ealdorman.”
From across the room Gunnhilda said scornfully, “By hanging a royal appointed reeve in front of his wife and children? Without the legality of a trial?”
Ethalflade turned her head quickly towards the Danish woman, retorted with as much scorn, “The man refused to obey my brother’s orders and evict a family who had not paid their rent. He was insubordinate.”
Emma withdrew her hands from Ethelflad’s and wiped the intrusive feel of sweat from her palms onto her gown. How dare they? How dare these two conceited, assuming women attempt to use her so blatantly?
“I have heard what happened,” she stated. “I have learnt enough English to comprehend the whispered conversations and aggrieved protests rustling through my husband’s court. Is it not equally as insubordinate for your brother to presume the duties of an anointed King?” She looked across at Gunnhilda. Announced, “Word appears to be spreading of our afternoon’s excitement, Gunnhilda. Your husband will most assuredly hear of it and grasp the wrong end of the spear.”
Ignoring the woman kneeling on the floor, she stood, went to her friend, said, “You look exhausted. Until my physician arrives, rest on my bed. I shall personally seek Pallig and send him to you.”
Walking to the door, Emma smiled at the apprehensive Leofstan, hovering on the threshold, his hands clenched, hopping from foot to foot. He was eight and ten years old, anxious to please, scared to offend, and mortified to have failed. His worry turning to a radiant grin as Emma laid her hand on his arm, her words leaving him uncompromisingly devoted to her service.
“I am more than satisfied with your ability, Leofstan, and I am full aware that neither you nor any of my men would knowingly allow harm to come to me. You shall escort me to find Pallig.”
Appalled at being ignored, Ethelflad scrabbled to her feet. “But you cannot…”
Swivelling on her heel, Emma interrupted, furious, “What can I not do, madam? Your brother took it upon himself to hang a King’s man. The King’s reeve, not your brother’s. He hanged a man who had the right to a trial of judgement. Aside from that, why come to me for aid? You and Godegifa have often expressed the opinion that I am a child with no sense or intelligence, and that Godegifa’s daughter would have made a better Queen than I. I suggest, therefore, you seek her aid, not mine.”
15
Darkness had fallen an hour ago. The shutters had been closed at dusk, candles and lamps lit. Emma sat before her table, dressed only in her under-shift, with a soft lamb’s-wool mantle draped across her shoulders, her hair hanging unbraided. She had been combing it, but her hand had paused at the sound of the door-latch lifting, the tread of boots coming into the room. Æthelred. What would he say about her afternoon’s escapade? Despite the bravado she had shown to Godegifa, she
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