Before Plantagenet - Chapter 261
July 1136 - Lydford, Kingdom of England
Queen of England.
Ælfflæd had repeated those words, that title, over and over again for weeks now. In fact, she had spoken those words since she was a girl, but they never had the meaning they did now.
Of course, that meaning remained frustratingly elusive.
Her mother had been queen. She had “ruled” in a sense, standing in for her husband when he was away. But Wulfrun was never her own woman - always Thoræd’s wife.
In that, Wulfrun was what all queens of England, or at least those that Ælfflæd knew of, had been - secondary to their husbands and limited in their roles. The only exception was that of Æthelflæd of Mercia, who may or may not have ruled two and a half centuries before, during the time of the Vikings. It was not clear she was a true queen, at least in the current sense.
No, Ælfflæd knew she stood on the precipice of something that felt historic. Monumental. She just didn’t know what.
In the days following the Duke of Somerset’s arrival to announce the capitulation of the English lords, Ælfflæd had been struggling to make sense of it all. It did not seem real. And yet it was.
The keep in Lydford was bustling in anticipation of tomorrow’s events when her vassals would swear their oaths to her. Servants, carpenters, and others were approaching her and asking for choices on design and layout of the main hall. Her, not her husband.
It was true, that much of it could have fallen to her anyway. Salutations by guards happened while she was in Aquitaine. Looking over the ledger was something many women did. Arrangements for feasts might fall under their control. And she guessed Geoffrey had been offered these responsibilities first - he had just refused them.
It felt different, but was it all an illusion? Was it just hopeful thinking, or a leash being loosened? Did it matter so long as she held the reins of power?
Such questions led to many mostly sleepless nights for Ælfflæd.
The previous night had been no exception, as she lay awake, Geoffrey fast asleep holding her tightly, as she stared at the ceiling of the solar and trying to definitively find her place.
And like the nights before, she had yet to find her answer, hoping that perhaps the coming days would prove illuminating.
She glanced over at her husband in the morning light that filtered in through the small window opening and into their bed. They usually shared a bed while in England - the lack of space compared to Bordeaux demanded it. And she’d noticed he tended to hold her more now than he used to, as opposed to when he would rest his head upon her chest as if it was a pillow.
Less a boy and more a man by the day, she thought.
She was actually feeling affectionate toward Geoffrey again. There was no doubt he had massive flaws in his personality; his lechery, his ego, his selfishness. And she had not forgiven him for the former, and his past humiliations of her.
But he had done as he promised. He had made her Queen of England. After growing up disappointed with men who had failed to protect her and left her in a dungeon, in lands far away from her home - her husband had raised her to the highest of ranks, in the realm of her birth no less.
It left her far more tolerant of his non-lecherous antics, which she had not caught him for a while, and she had little trouble playing the role of
his queen with a smile on her face.
She slipped carefully from Geoffrey’s grasp and made her way from the bed to look herself over in a dull mirror, to take in a more personal homage to the passage of time. Gray hairs had begun to appear among her long sea of black, which cascaded down past her shoulders. It would be tied neatly and covered for the show, hiding the fact that it was beginning to show a woman who soon would not be able to feign youth.
She leaned in to look at her face. A few lines around her eyes and mouth. But it was also much fuller now and as she ran her hands down her sides to trace her shape, she could not deny she had grown fat over the past half decade.
Just as his mother predicted, she thought.
A small frown came to her face though she remembered it was the toll of her two pregnancies. And her husband hardly minded - he seemed more drawn to her now than he did back then. But then, given his affairs with heavy set Countess Sarrazine and possibly the late Duchess Essa, it was not a surprise.
And it might have had the desired effect - her monthly blood was also delayed and she found herself queasy some mornings, this one not excepted, to the point where she suspected she might again be with child. It was still early for her to say confidently, and would not mention it to Geoffrey yet, but it was still another potential boon in a life suddenly filled with them.
When she left England she was resigned to her fate, and unsure of what awaited. She was not even certain she would even be wed, given the death of Geoffrey’s father could have led to a sudden end to any marriage promise.
Yet she returned with no doubt as a queen, not only of Aquitaine, but of England. She left a daughter, and returned a mother of two children, with possibly a third on the way. She left as an afterthought, a means to gain influence for the lords and ladies of her homeland, and nothing more. She returned above them all.
She looked at Geoffrey in the bed, and again was reminded of how much more mature he appeared, at least physically
. Did these lords ever think the boy who humiliated himself pretending to be a squire would be the one to humble them all? Did I think he was capable of this?
She smiled. No. She didn’t. And it was nice to be pleasantly surprised for once.
It was true for all their victory, they had seized but one county, Lydford. However, Ælfflæd consoled herself with the fact her family had risen from similar humble beginnings to become one of Europe’s great families. At least for a time.
And now that time has come again.
She would have preferred Wiltshire of course, but that remained in the hands of her nephew, the King of Jerusalem, who paid no homage to her. And she could not bring herself to attack him - for unlike with England, it would be a betrayal of family.
Geoffrey had agreed, if only due to the sheer political calculus of it all. And the fact she knew he wanted to turn his armies on Navarra, and soon.
How long that would be was uncertain, but Ælfflæd was not certain he would remain in England for the remainder of the year. He said the boy king of Navarra was gaining allies - this time Geoffrey’s uncle by marriage, the Duke of Transjurania, and he wanted to strike before anyone else joined the pair.
A quick departure had the risk of emboldening the English lords, but Ælfflæd also wanted an opportunity to prove herself her own woman. Geoffrey being off in Iberia while she remained in England was a good way to dispel talk she was nothing more than his puppet queen.
As she ran a brush through her hair, Geoffrey rose from the bed and came up behind her. His arms wrapped around her and he nuzzled his nose to her neck and ear, enough to make the hairs on her neck stand. She actually giggled.
“I have never seen a more lovely queen,” Geoffrey told her.
“How many queens have you seen over the years?” Ælfflæd asked. “Aside from your mother?”
Geoffrey shrugged. “My… aunt Bella when I was a boy. They say her mother was beautiful.”
Ælfflæd’s brow rose. “You fancied your aunt?”
“No!” Geoffrey exclaimed. “I just say that she was born of a very pretty woman.”
His blushing cheeks once more reminded Ælfflæd of the boy who pretended to be a squire. And she found it oddly endearing.
“Oh!” Geoffrey said. “There was that Queen of Aragon. I forget her name. And my cousin Helie did become the Empress of the Romans… but she was not very comely.”
Ælfflæd wouldn’t know. All she had learned of Agnes’ youngest daughter was that she had been wed to the Roman Emperor, bore him two daughters, and after his death had been shipped off to wed some noble in the forests of Eastern Europe. An ugly fate in her opinion and one undeserving of Agnes’ daughter, but there was nothing she or Geoffrey could do.
Still, thinking of the younger Helie made her more grateful for her place today and with a smile she replied: “The most lovely queen, you say?”
“Stunning,” Geoffrey said as he kissed her neck.
“Careful,” she said quietly. “I’m fairly certain the children are awake.”
Unlike the palace in Bordeaux, the royal family all shared a singular quarters, the solar. Ælfflæd had mentioned in Wiltshire her family slept in one large bed, but Geoffrey would not have that. He and Ælfflæd shared one, and then Guilhem and Margo had a smaller one of their own. The chamber was delineated by a wooden screen as well as a linen sheet, which split unevenly with the king and queen owning the larger partition.
“I’ll tell Guilhem to find Savarics or one of his cousins,” Geoffrey said. “And have Assalide take Margo.”
“I do not feel well,” Ælfflæd protested truthfully. “Perhaps this evening.”
Geoffrey eyed her. “Ill in the morning?”
“I am uncertain if it is anything,” Ælfflæd said. “And things could still go wrong. It is too early.”
“Of course, of course,” Geoffrey said. “I will wait until you are ready… or until you are certain.”
Ælfflæd resisted a roll of the eyes. Geoffrey maintained the idea husband and wife should not couple while the wife was pregnant - an idea that she knew from Assalide and Escarlmonde was not universal. It irked the queen even more to know Geoffrey had sinned in a different way during her pregnancies, laying with other women - as well as the fact she was fairly certain he laid with them while they were with child.
But given her increased tolerance toward his antics, she let the matter rest. If she was again with child, perhaps she might be able to tempt him to abandon his resistance in time.
“So then, provided you are feeling up to it, have you planned anything today?” Geoffrey asked her.
“Nothing too strenuous,” Ælfflæd said. “I will be meeting with Adelise to discuss my council.”
“Ah, have anyone picked out for a role?” Geoffrey asked.
“No, besides Adelise herself as my advisor,” Ælfflæd replied. “Given her aid, I believe she has earned it.”
“I think you should be skeptical of her advice,” Geoffrey told her. “But given the number of men at her disposal, if you keep her loyal, it should keep things quiet here.”
“I think you understate her efforts,” Ælfflæd argued. “Without her, we would not be here.”
“Without
me, you would still be waiting for her to deliver our son a crown,” Geoffrey said. “But it matters little. You could use a friendly lord or lady of power here. She certainly fits well enough.”
Ælfflæd smirked. “Glad to have
your approval, my king.”
“Since you seem so receptive of my suggestions, perhaps I might make another,” Geoffrey said. “As you do not have a pick for the position, then why not Centolh for your chancellor?”
“Your cousin?” Ælfflæd replied. “Why him?”
“He’s done well acting in the role for me here,” Geoffrey answered. “Including selling the Sicilian emissary on Alias as a possible husband for their Princess Alisce. I have half a mind to replace Adhemar with him… but I can’t do that to a high-ranking family member.”
“So I am to take him on instead,” Ælfflæd said. “I am his consolation. And I get your hand-me-downs.”
Geoffrey chuckled. “It’s not charity, my dear. He is qualified. And if you do not have good choices to serve you among your new lords…”
“I see,” Ælfflæd said. “Your cousin as my chancellor. And I suppose his brother as my marshal? I know you’ll never release Berard to my service.”
“No, he comes with me,” Geoffrey said. “Though his wife can remain with you, as she will not be accompanying me on campaign when we head south.”
“How generous,” Ælfflæd said. She did little to mask her sarcasm. But Geoffrey seemed to care just as little. So Ælfflæd simply continued.
“I cannot take your cousins on,” Ælfflæd said. “For the same reason you cannot fire your high-ranking family members. It would look poor on me. They already whisper I am your puppet. Sticking your cousins on my council would just add more to the fire.”
“They can say what they wish,” Geoffrey said. “They will never do anything about it.”
On that, Ælfflæd was not so sure. It was true, the Saxon nobles probably could not force Geoffrey to do as they had the Bastard, disinheriting his son. But William’s successor as king, Morcar, Duke of York, had been murdered - proof the nobles could plot against any monarch, even a fellow Saxon.
“There are other ways to do things about it other than rebellion,” she noted.
Geoffrey sighed. “Regrettably. Well, in any case, I leave those decisions to you. After all, you are Queen of England. Your council is yours to deal with.”
She was surprised to hear him say that - in fact at first she thought her ears deceived her. But Ælfflæd soon realized they had not when Geoffrey continued.
“I do not interfere with who my uncles select on their councils, nor any of my vassals,” he said. “It would hardly be proper to do something like that to you.”
“I am…” her voice trailed off.
A vassal. A queen in her own right… but not really. Just ruling at his leisure.
On one hand, she wasn’t surprised. He was her husband, and husbands usually claimed dominance over their wife’s holdings.
On the other, sometimes it was more talk than substance. The late Duchess Essa certainly had ruled in her own right, much to her husband’s chagrin. Maud, Adelise, Aevis and the late Æfrida all dominated over their spouses, even if in Maud’s case, her husband held lands.
But then none of them were relying on their husbands to keep them in power. And thus Ælfflæd knew she could only be so pointed in her complaints - regardless of how much Geoffrey claimed to want his Boudica, it would be on him to provide the men to make it happen.
Realizing it wasn’t worth the fight, especially given there would be the oaths tomorrow, Ælfflæd decided to move on.
“Will you be joining us then?” she asked.
“No,” Geoffrey said. “You and your cousin can discuss what you wish. I will be out riding in the countryside with some of our guests, my cousin Louis among them.”
Ælfflæd was glad to hear it. Louis was Agnes’ son, and consort to the Duchess of Albany in Scotland. His wife was among the leading figures in a rebellion to install a new king of the land - a rebellion which had dragged on for years.
By his own admission, Louis was sent here to feel out whether Geoffrey or Ælfflæd would be willing to aid them. But Geoffrey did not, regardless of his warm feelings toward Agnes, since he wished to turn on Navarra next. And Ælfflæd lacked the strength, both in men and position, to offer any herself.
She imagined Louis was disappointed, but he claimed to understand it was a large ask, especially since his wife had not offered any aid during Geoffrey’s invasion.
Still, Ælfflæd appreciated Geoffrey was willing to take Louis with him. Though she also wondered if he might be taking some other important persons from the Isles.
“Are any of the Saxon lords coming with you?” Ælfflæd asked.
Geoffrey laughed. “Do you wish for me to have an arrow in my chest due a ‘hunting accident’ or some sort? No, this is just a ride with Louis, my brother, Berard, Alberic and my other cousins.”
That would be no small entourage. Geoffrey’s male cousins who were of age or close to it had come to Lydford. Some, like Duke Simon, Centolh and Rogier d’Uzes, were already present. But so too had Bishop Edouard, Ancel of Brittany, the younger Adhemar de Limoges and Geoffrey of Charolais. With the guards that would be traveling with them, it would be a group large enough to raid a village, if they so chose.
“Papa!”
Ælfflæd and Geoffrey spun around to see Guilhem standing by the linen sheet.
“Papa, can I come too?” the prince asked. “On the ride.”
“Of course,” Geoffrey said. “You, Savarics and Simon's brother Jacques will all come along. You are old enough to ride with the men… and the near men, in the case of cousin Small Fry.”
“He’s not so small,” Guilhem said. “He’s taller than Uncle Adhemar!”
“But shorter than me,” Geoffrey said with a grin. “And he always will be.”
Ælfflæd rolled her eyes, at that insinuation, since the boy had shot up since she’d last seen him. “Small” Fry was close to Geoffrey’s height and might pass him yet. But she suspected her husband meant more than just physical stature, and his ego left her unable to resist a small grin of her own.
She knelt down to her son, though these days she did not have to go far to reach his height. “You be careful. Papa forgets your age sometimes. And he will probably try to prove you ride better than Savarics.”
“Please,” Geoffrey said. “I don’t need to prove it. Everyone already knows.”
Ignoring him, Ælfflæd told Guilhem: “Be safe. And be kind to anyone you meet. They will be your subjects one day.”
Turning back to Geoffrey and grinning, she then looked to her son and told him in Saxon: “And don’t be afraid to show them you know how to speak their language.”
Guilhem looked to his father nervously and then back to Ælfflæd. She smiled and told him in Occitan. “It will be alright. Your father will just brag how smart you are.”
The prince smiled and nodded, before running off to get his clothes from the trunk and get ready to ride. When Ælfflæd stood up, Geoffrey eyed her.
“What did you tell him?” he asked.
“To speak the language to any locals he meets,” Ælfflæd said. “Good practice, I think.”
Geoffrey stroked his chin and then nodded. “I suppose it would be. Now then, one other piece of business. I imagine you will be meeting with your lords today.”
“I’m surprised that you’ll let me,” Ælfflæd noted.
“My uncle Adhemar reminded me that I will not present here when I decide to attack Navarra,” Geoffrey said. “So it behooves us to see how you handle things.”
“You speak of me as if I’m a child,” Ælfflæd said.
“You are inexperienced in dealing with powerful vassal lords,” Geoffrey said. “It is no insult to speak truths.”
“Perhaps I would have had more experience had you trusted me as your proper regent,” Ælfflæd said.
“But I didn’t,” Geoffrey said. “And here we are. So don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and manage the best you can.”
Ælfflæd grew wide-eyed at the advice.
So don’t anything you wouldn’t do? So then I am allowed to bed a lord like Duke Sigeric? Or Duke Hlohtere?
Not that she would. She might have resented his condescending tone, but he had won her this crown and was letting her at least nominally handle overseeing England. With less than a 1,000 men to call to her name, and most of them rabble, she could hardly hope for much more.
She just had to stomach that it was because, more than anything else, Geoffrey simply did not think England, or her people, worth his time.
….
But not everyone was of a mind that Geoffrey’s contempt for his new subjects was a bad thing.
“It gives us more room to do as you please,” Adelise told her later that day as they sat in the solar. “And I imagine the English lords will appreciate his lack of interference.”
“Until I or they do something he dislikes,” Ælfflæd said. “Then what will happen?”
“He needs you,” Adelise said. “If for no other reason than because otherwise he’ll have to deal with the English lords himself. And that works the other way too - they don’t wish to deal with him either.”
“They will have to,” Ælfflæd said. “Starting tomorrow, when we do our oaths.”
“Yes, we should talk about that,” Adelise said. “I have been speaking with my mother, as well as Duke Hlothere and Uncle Osmund. They tell me the lords are willing to acknowledge you. They don’t wish to acknowledge Geoffrey.”
“I noticed your stepfather took that tact,” Ælfflæd said. “I thought Geoffrey would come down on him for it, but he was so pleased with his victory he failed to notice it.”
“Geoffrey will pay more attention tomorrow,” Adelise warned. “I, of course, have no problem acknowledging you both. For it is only together that you can prosper.”
Ælfflæd grinned. “You don’t need to kiss up, Adi. Your position is secure. I would have you on my council, as an advisor.”
Adelise pointed to herself. “I’m flattered Elf. I certainly hoped, but could not expect.”
The queen could not resist chuckling. Her cousin was being modest at best, and false at worst. But at the moment, Ælfflæd was too thrilled she was queen to care.
“So then the first bit of advice I need from you is on the rest of my council,” Ælfflæd said. “Who I should add because they are worthy. And who I should add because they will be pacified.”
“Then let us start from the top - Northumberland,” Adelise said. “The new Duke Hlothere could be a troublemaker. He thinks he should be king.”
“By what right?” Ælfflæd demanded. “He has no relation to the Godwins, the Normans, Ed or Ecgwyn!”
“By the hooey his mother came up with before she passed,” Adelise said. “Duchess Æfrida tried to claim descent from King Arthur.”
“Impossible,” Ælfflæd scoffed. “Arthur had no children, right?”
“She sponsored the work of a man named…” Adelise paused and then chuckled. “
Geoffrey actually. Geoffrey of Monmouth, who she hoped would give her a crown through the quill rather than the sword.
"He is a cleric who Æfrida sponsored to write a history of Britain. In it, he recounts the history of England, dating all the way back to the Trojan War, when Brutus of Troy arrived here after their defeat.”
Ælfflæd actually knew of Troy, though that was because her husband had mentioned the Trojan Aeneas as the ancestor of the Romans and thus his ancestor as well.
“The world seems to wish descent from a sacked city,” Ælfflæd said as she shook her head. Then she looked back to Adelise. “You’ve read this then?”
“Part of it,” Adelise said. “I sent one of my monks to copy the texts. I have read what has been sent back, which is only selections, so far.”
“Then what is all this about Arthur and Æfrida… or Hlothere?” Ælfflæd asked.
“In it, it is claimed that Arthur was killed in battle against his nephew Mordred, but appointed his cousin Constantinus to rule… as a regent for his young son, born not long before his death,” Adelise said. “And the line of Britain kings eventually intermarried with Æfrida’s family of Saxons, thus making them the true heirs of Britain.”
Ælfflæd rolled her eyes. “And people believe this?”
“The history is interesting enough, but I imagine the Arthur/Northumberland connection is too convenient to be true,” Adelise said. “A bit of embellishment if you will.”
“Will others believe it?” Ælfflæd asked. “Or will they choose to?”
“Now that is the right question,” Adelise said. “It could be an excuse for revolt, in the wrong situation. But the good news is Hlothere is rumored to be craven. I believe if you find him a position on your council, he will never have the willingness to risk his status to challenge the might of your husband.”
“Is he competent at anything?” Ælfflæd asked.
Adelise laughed before responding: “No. His mother tolerated him, barely.”
“Lovely,” Ælfflæd said.
“Perhaps you can make him marshal,” Adelise suggested. “Let us be honest - at the moment you will not be relying on England’s men for protection anyway.”
Ælfflæd didn’t like having to place a completely incompetent man as the one overseeing the realm’s forces - an especially important position because she was a woman and in theory, was not to be involved in the planning of war. But Adelise was not wrong in that at the moment, there was not much to plan involving what she could call her own levy.
“I do have someone who angles for a council position and might be actually capable of fulfilling it well, however,” Adelise said. “Duke Sigeric of Essex as chancellor.”
Ælfflæd’s eyes widened. “The same Sigeric who fought so hard against me? The same Sigeric who came to Aquitaine to insult me and my husband? I think not - I have already promised Uncle Osmund that I shall restore him to the position.”
“The same Uncle Osmund who threatened you in Bordeaux if you did not surrender yourself to him?” Adelise retorted. “I think, outside of Hlothere and myself, you will find yourself short on lords of this realm who did not line up against you.”
Ælfflæd frowned. It was an uncomfortable reminder of what she dealt with in truly making these lords her own men and women.
“Not one even just went along for the sake of it?” Ælfflæd asked.
“Maud,” Adelise said. “She thought Burgheard betrayed her by raising himself over her. And she could not believe the lords selected a child queen, over her, a prominent lady of the realm, and already of age. At least with you, she claims, there was no betrayal as she believes Geoffrey simply uses you.”
Ælfflæd rolled her eyes. “I have long had enough of Maud’s thoughts about me.”
“It is unpleasant, I know,” Adelise said. “But there is no lord of the realm better at the role than Sigeric.”
“What of Aevis?” Ælfflæd asked. “She is versed in Saxon, Norman, Frankish, Dane as well Occitan. And she earned herself friends among the Saxons - it is no small thing given you two are Norman.”
Adelise furrowed her brow. “She is undeserving of a place on your council after her betrayal of our family.”
Ælfflæd shook her head. “As you say, I would be short on lords who did not line up against me.”
“But most are not your family, at least closely,” Adelise said. “Aevis and Osmund are different. Aevis especially, for she could have aligned with you and me.”
“I think it would be wise to have both my cousins on the council,” Ælfflæd said. She smirked - it
was following her husband’s advice, sticking close family on the council.
“Then let me warn of another reason,” Adelise began. “While the realm features many ladies ruling in their own right, it is still considered… uncouth to place a woman in such a leading role.”
“The realm thinks it is uncouth for
me to rule in the first place,” Ælfflæd said.
“So we need not add to their discontent,” Adelise said.
“Could they not say the same of you?” Ælfflæd asked.
“An advisor to the queen is different,” Adelise said. “You can take advice from whoever you like. Chancellor, marshal… these are all positions that are considered roles for men. I don’t agree… but I also do not wish to fight that battle, when there are scores of others we will need to engage in.”
Ælfflæd was inclined to disagree, especially since she knew it would be the threat of Geoffrey’s army that would keep the nobles at bay. But she also suspected he may not approve of something that bold either and he would be taking his army from England soon enough to deal with Navarra. Plus, there was that threat they could plot to kill her. So caution might be the wiser choice.
“Fine,” Ælfflæd said. “I will not select Aevis for the moment. Perhaps I can find a role for her in the near future.”
“If I might make one other suggestion,” Adelise began. When she fell silent, Ælfflæd motioned for her to continue. “My stepfather continuing in his role as steward.”
“A bad idea,” Ælfflæd said. “My husband is well aware of his reputation. And given the rumors…”
Her voice trailed off. She knew rumors with Somerset involved Adelise as well, including her last child was actually his. Is that why she vouched for him now?
“Rumors are just that,” Adelise said. “You said yourself, you need capable nobles to fill those roles. He is fairly good at managing the ledger.”
“I am not so bad myself,” Ælfflæd said.
“Geoffrey let you?” Adelise asked.
Ælfflæd pursed her lips. “More… recently.”
Adelise smiled. “Still, he will have a better idea of the accounting of Lydford than you or your husband will. And I shall never leave your side when you are with him.”
Ælfflæd shook her head. She didn’t want any part of Æthelsige, even if he was the first lord besides Adelise to present himself to her. But she suspected she probably would be forced to… though she’d at least consult her Aunt Gunhilda first… just to make sure it did not run afoul of her.
As much as she valued Adelise, and knew of the power she held with her loyalty, Gunhilda was no slouch either, given her connections with nearly every lord in the realm now. Aside from the deposed Ecgwyn and Hlothere, she was mother, sister, sister-by-law or cousin to every duke and duchess in England. Keeping her happy was not to be scoffed at.
“I will consider it,” Ælfflæd said. “Truly. I just… I will speak to your mother as well. She knows him best.”
“Of course,” Adelise said. “And you should. It is wise to seek as much information as possible. She’ll be happy to speak with you as well - she is quite pleased you are queen over Ecgwyn.”
“She disliked the girl that much?” Ælfflæd wondered.
“It is less dislike of her, and more anger at what has happened to her sister’s family,” Adelise said. “You know our mothers were inseparable until their marriages. She hated seeing what happened to your nephew. Seeing you raised has lessened that pain.”
“She still would prefer Æthelfirth?” Ælfflæd asked.
“I think she realizes that you are the best positioned to both see Queen Wulfrun’s legacy preserved as well as defend the interests of myself, Aevis and Hextilda,” Adelise said. “So have no fear - she will be your most loyal subject, besides myself of course.”
Ælfflæd again could not resist a chuckle at Adelise’s overt pandering.
“There's another matter… less pleasant to discuss,” Adelise noted. “Ecgwyn.”
Ælfflæd waved her off. “I have already decided. She is to live and be given Cornwall.”
“Is that wise?” Adelise asked.
Ælfflæd sighed. The deposed queen. Daughter of the late Burgheard, who would now and forever be her rival. Ælfflæd had taken her crown, and even if Ecgwyn was unaware of it in full, she had to suspect her father’s life as well.
However, it looked poor upon all those involved to deal harshly with a child, and both Ælfflæd and Geoffrey agreed she would be allowed to keep her title as Duchess of Cornwall, and given the county of the same name as restitution for the loss of both Devon and her crown.
“I am not happy with the arrangement,” Ælfflæd said. “But my hands are tied. It is what is expected.”
“What is expected is that you don’t make a show of imprisoning or killing her,” Adelise said.
“So I am to send her to a convent?” Ælfflæd asked.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Adelise said. “Keep her under your guard for longer… and then perhaps… something happens.”
Ælfflæd grew wide-eyed. “You are not suggesting what I think you are.”
Adelise shrugged. “She will hate you and your family for the remainder of her days. She is always a threat to be restored to the throne. So too will her children, should she have any. It is best to deal with it all now, as we did with Burgheard.”
Ælfflæd looked away from her cousin, furrowing her brow. There was a specific reason she had gone ahead with Ed’s murder… to protect her own child from being killed. With no current threat, it would be an affront to God for her to turn around and kill Ed’s only child after everything else that happened.
“You are too willing to take lives,” Ælfflæd said. “It should be the last option, not the first.”
“Do you see another way this resolves?” Adelise asked. “She will always hate you, your husband and your family. You will never win her to your side. She will endeavor to be a thorn in it. Cut out the steps that will make everything more difficult and deal with it now.”
Ælfflæd felt a twinge in her spine as she imagined a far harder situation to handle - leaving Ecgwyn as a mess to clean up later, where she might have far more support. Or attempting to move against Gulhem with her as a figurehead, as the nobles had with the Bastard over a half century before. Would it be better to deal with it now?
No, I am not craven, and neither is my family, Ælfflæd thought.
I will not allow fear to dictate the murder of a child.
“I will deal with her as needed,” Ælfflæd said. “Should she move against me in the future… she will live to regret her choice.”
“I pray we are not left to do the same,” Adelise replied.
Ælfflæd narrowed her gaze. “Adelise, I remain your cousin, but I am still your queen. Try to remember a certain respect for me now…”
“We are alone, Elf,” Adelise said. “In public…”
“It can slip out,” Ælfflæd warned. “So I expect a certain level of respect for my decisions. Such is required of my advisor… who is there to aid me in projecting a proper image to the realm. I cannot do that if you are snide and snippy with me.”
Adelise was silent for a moment and Ælfflæd eyed her, wondering if her cousin would push the matter further.
But the duchess eventually nodded.
“You are right, Elf,” Adelise said. “I must find the right balance. Forgive me, I am new to this role as you are to being a queen in your own right.”
Ælfflæd smiled. “It is fine, Adi. We will all figure this out together.”
…..
The next day, the hall in Lydford was packed so tightly it was difficult to move.
That was despite the fact the main hall had been slightly expanded since Geoffrey seized the keep a year and a half before. Drapes hung from the walls, candles and torches lit the hall, but it was the sheer number of people that caught the eye, as they spilled out of the entrance, hoping to get a view of the proceedings.
They came from all walks - a few well-to-do from the town itself. Knights from Aquitaine and the midlands as well as some huscarls from England. Of course, nobles themselves… on one side the Saxons and Normans. On the other, those from Aquitaine, who had traveled from the continent for this day.
All here to see me, she thought.
Ælfflæd’s heart raced as she sat on her throne - cut for her specifically, as it had the shells of her family crest engraved in the top corners.
It was strange, and nerve wracking, to realize these people were here to see her. She was the center of it. Yes, Geoffrey was there, and by all rights, he was their king, at least in name.
But it was through her. The vassals were coming to swear their oaths to
her. These people were present to see them do that. To see her ascendant above every man and woman in England.
Just as they had her father and grandfather. Their legacy, both good and bad, rested upon her shoulders.
Meanwhile, Geoffrey was by her side, on his own throne, which had had the bulls heads of his family crest engraved upon it. A step down on the dais was Geoffrey’s council, and for the first time since the start of the war, all gathered together. Adhemar was closest to him, followed by Berard, Duke Guilhem and then Count Douard. On Ælfflæd’s side stood Prince-Bishop Emmanuel and Bishop Edouard, to emphasize the church’s support for the endeavor.
It was a lie - they still wrangled with the church over a potential coronation. The English clergy seemed resistant toward recognizing Ælfflæd, even after the victory, and Emmanuel shot down Geoffrey’s idea of having the prince-bishop crown her himself, saying it was not his dioceses, nor realm. And the new pope Anastasius had yet to weigh in on the matter, though Geoffrey thought it would come out better since he wasn't Martinus' man, like Cardinal Nicola.
But the people gathered need not know that as today’s efforts were in the spectacle. There would be time for practical matters later.
And the spectacle soon began, with Duke Adhemar stepping forward and announcing, in Frankish, the monarchs.
“Announcing Geoffrey, first of his name, King of Aquitaine and England,” he began. “And Ælfflæd, first of her name, Queen of England and Queen consort of Aquitaine.”
Her heart raced as she gripped the wooden armrests of her throne tightly.
First of my name, she thought. She had never heard that said of her before. It was something that was only spoken of for monarchs who actually ruled, not consorts.
She did her best to try to slow her heart to keep it from bursting from her chest while Adhemar continued to speak in Frankish.
It was strange to conduct the court in a language no one spoke as their first. The Saxons mostly knew Frankish, given the similarities to Norman, but preferred their own tongue to conduct business. And they had for every king since the Bastard.
The Normans were the most comfortable, naturally. Geoffrey knew it well too, since he had grown up during the split with the Frankish kingdom and learned both it and Occitan. Most of Aquitaine's nobles were the same in that regard.
And the alternatives were Geoffrey having it conducted in Occitan, which would leave the English nobles, even the Normans, in need of translation, or do it in Saxon, where Geoffrey and his people would need someone to make sense of it. Frankish proved a compromise, at least until the English court adjusted.
Adjustments would likely be needed with how they addressed the monarchs. Adelise had come up with a compromise, which she had run by Ælfflæd, then Adhemar and then the three to Geoffrey.
The nobles would acknowledge Ælfflæd first, but then Geoffrey as well. That way, it furthered the idea that Ælfflæd was the one who ruled them, even if Geoffrey oversaw it all.
The king was hesitant to the idea when he returned from his ride late in the day, but eventually was talked into it by Adhemar emphasizing they needed to establish Ælfflæd as a true ruler in her own right. They could not do that by having her subservient to Geoffrey in things relating to her vassals.
And that was not all when it came to vassals - there was an order they would be received on this day.
It had to be the deposed Ecgwyn first to make it clear that she was England’s queen no more, giving the other vassals official right to swear their oaths to Ælfflæd.
Defeated, she had fled to East Anglia, but had been handed over by Duchess Maud, with Geoffrey giving assurances the girl would not be harmed. Maud likely didn’t care - she just wanted to get in with the new monarchs - Geoffrey had no intentions of violating his oaths.
The teen did not even try to hide her contempt and anger for the situation, moving forward at a snail’s pace as the hall looked on in silence… but only for a time.
“Get her to her knees!”
“Shove her forward!”
“Throw her in the dungeons!”
Ælfflæd looked out at the gallery. It was being shouted in Occitan mostly, though a few did seem to be in Frankish. And it was those Frankish words that Ecgwyn almost certainly understood caused her to look back toward the crowd and for the first time, looked to have added fear to her range of expressions.
“Squirm girl,” Geoffrey said quietly in Occitan, but Ælfflæd was close enough to hear him.
It made sense for him to want her to know fear, to know her place, to know Aquitaine would destroy her if she ever tried anything.
But for Ælfflæd it was too familiar… being brought forth under threat from foreign invaders, who seized you despite your status and the rank you believed protected you. To not know what came next.
It was almost instinctual. Ælfflæd stood from her throne and raised her hand. It took a few moments for the crowd to grow silent, or silent enough for Ælfflæd to speak out to Ecgwyn and be heard. She used the time to descend a step on the dais and then motioned Ecgwyn forward, adding: “Come here, my dear.”
Ecgwyn stood motionless for a moment, eyeing the queen with suspicion. But she made the walk forward, a little quicker than before. And when she reached the dais, Ælfflæd grabbed her in a tight embrace.
Despite being more than half her age, Ecgwyn already was a head taller than her new queen, though the dais did somewhat hide it. And Ecgwyn seemed surprised by the hug, though she did close her grip around Ælfflæd as well.
Whispering into Ecgwyn’s ear, Ælfflæd said: “I know what it is like to walk through a hall of enemies. I know what it is like to not know what your future holds. Know this, I do not blame you for the betrayal of my family. If you have anyone here who would be your friend, and not use you to their own ends, it would be me. I would not harm you. I would not let
them harm you. I would see you among the leading ladies of this realm.”
“You took my crown,” she said. “Why would I trust you?”
“The crown was my family’s,” Ælfflæd told her. “Your father, lured by avarice and greed, betrayed my father to take it. And threatened my son to try and keep it.”
“My father would not,” Ecgwyn said.
“Fathers are not always what we believe them to be,” Ælfflæd warned. “I know, first hand.”
Ecgwyn lowered her head, but slowly shook it. It would not be something that would get through easily, Ælfflæd realized, but in time, she would understand.
Hopefully. The queen did pity her… she didn’t want her to do anything to call upon the wrath she had just briefly sampled in the hall.
Ecgwyn then did drop to her knees and swear her oaths. Ælfflæd brought her up, embraced and kissed her, confirming her as the Duchess and Countess of Cornwall.
Geoffrey then stepped down with her, and Ecgwyn bowed before him. The pair said nothing to one another, with Ecgwyn glaring at Geoffrey with anger and the king at the duchess with contempt.
The former “queen” made her way back to the Saxon side of the gallery, standing with her mother, who eyed Ælfflæd and Geoffrey with a hateful glare. To that, Ælfflæd had no sympathy.
You gambled when you helped murder your husband to elevate your daughter, Ælfflæd thought.
You lost.
Adelise was the next to come forth to swear her oaths to Ælfflæd, since she had been “the first” to actually acknowledge her before. This one was a more joyous occasion as Adelise marched forth with her head held high and a smile on her face as she approached the dais. Holding the skirt of her dress out, she dropped to a knee before the dais.
“My queen,” she said. Then she looked to Geoffrey. “And king. It is good to see your family, my queen, once more restored to the throne. Your grandfather and father were men of great honor, and fine examples for all of Christendom. I have no doubt you shall follow in their footsteps.”
Putting it like that just added to the pressure she felt. But Ælfflæd put it from her mind for the moment as she raised Adelise from her knees. Then she and the duchess swore their oaths and embraced, a much more loving one than had preceded with Ecgwyn.
When they were done, Ælfflæd spoke: “Duchess Adelise of Mercia, cousin, before anyone in England believed in me… and perhaps Aquitaine… believed in me, you did. I would not be here without your belief. Your strength. And so, as I move forth, I wish you by my side, as a member of my council.”
Adelise smiled. “I would be honored, my queen.”
Ælfflæd offered her hand and Adelise took it, joining her on the dais and then taking a place on the step below the thrones, and as the closest person to Ælfflæd’s.
Hlothere came next, as he was the one lord who had not technically taken up arms against Ælfflæd and Geoffrey, having just inherited from his mother in May. In fact, he had not gone through any vassal ceremony to this point, as he had not bothered to swear anything to Ecgwyn.
“My queen,” Hlothere said. “A more beautiful one I have never seen.”
Ælfflæd blushed at the overt flattery, before the swearing of the oaths and the embrace. It was an embrace that suggested Hlothere was not just sucking up, as he lingered a bit too long, pressing himself tightly against her. Not wishing to make a scene, she gently tried to extricate herself from the hug, though found it difficult.
When Hlothere did release, smile on his face, Ælfflæd was left feeling uncomfortable, yet did not know what to do about it. But when she glanced at Geoffrey, she could see him narrow his gaze toward Hlothere. And then after the duke bowed before the king, Geoffrey extended his hand. Ælfflæd was confused for a moment… until Geoffrey pulled him close, and whispered something in his ear. She could see Geoffrey’s grip was so tight, Hlothere’s arm trembled.
Despite being seven years Geoffrey’s elder, Hlothere’s face blanched, and once released he sheepishly retreated back to the gallery, the king watching him every step of the way.
Ælfflæd feared something similar might happen with her uncle, Duke Æthelsige of Somerset. But he was courteous, smiling at both queen and king, and keeping things appropriate between himself and Ælfflæd.
Maud came next, with the Duchess of East Anglia bowing before Ælfflæd and when they embraced whispered: “We must speak again later. I have much to discuss with you.”
Her transparent grab for influence made Ælfflæd want to roll her eyes - and she was grateful for the work she had put in to hide such thoughts over the years. She would still meet with Maud as a courtesy, but that would be the extent of it.
Then it was time for Aevis. She was one of Ecgwyn’s strongest supporters, but she was also the queen’s first cousin. It meant Ælfflæd had to make a good show of welcoming her back - all made easier by the fact the new queen wasn’t acting.
She wanted her cousin with her. No Aevis had discouraged her, unlike Adelise, but she had her reasons. And now, with Ælfflæd’s elder sister likely gone from her permanently, having never met her younger half-siblings who resided in Wiltshire, Adelise, Aevis, Gunhilda and to a lesser degree Hextilda were her closest family now. They could all be involved, even if Adelise was the only one with a council position.
“I’m sorry,” Aevis told her, loud enough for the hall to hear.
“All is forgiven,” Ælfflæd replied. “We are family. All that matters now is that we’re together.”
It was rehearsed, but it didn’t make it any less true for Ælfflæd.
Osmund, who had only returned to England just a few days before, was next. He was respectful, and like Aevis, asked for forgiveness for his behavior during the siege of Bordeaux. On that, Ælfflæd felt a bit more resentment, since he had threatened her person as opposed to Aevis. But he was her uncle, and her late mother’s younger brother, and he had treated her well enough in the years prior.
He also had managed to build his personal forces to rival any of the other lords of the realm, so it made sense to treat him with respect.
Sigeric was last, as one of Ecgwyn’s key supporters, the chancellor who had insulted Ælfflæd and without a connection to her beyond his new wife, who was her maternal aunt. But Lady Seaxburg almost never interacted with her older sisters, unlike Osmund, who spent a great deal of time in Wiltshire. So Ælfflæd felt nothing toward her, and Sigeric would gain little from it.
However, she had considered Adelise’s advice of making him chancellor, and Ælfflæd decided she would meet with him later to see if she could tolerate it. So she invited him to join herself and Adelise tomorrow, though she did not reveal the matter she wished to discuss.
Ælfflæd’s lesser vassals came next and she endeavored to deal with them as seriously as she had the dukes and duchesses - their loyalty might not appear as valuable as the others but it was not to be discounted.
Once the oaths were finished, it came time for her to speak - something else she had been dreading. Eloquence was never her strong suit and with a father like the late Thoræd, who blustered, boasted and threatened more than he charmed it was no surprise.
But she remembered Geoffrey was made to follow one of the best orators in Christendom and yet managed, so she could make something of it as she followed in the footsteps of one of the worst.
“A millenia ago, Rome came to Britain,” Ælfflæd began. “The people were cowed. They were subjugated. But one Briton… stood proud against them. A woman… by the name of Boudica.”
She looked out at the crowd. Those from Aquitaine nodded along - Geoffrey had long since repeated the story to his knights and nobles. But the Saxons appeared to be confused.
“You may not know of her,” Ælfflæd said. “It is a tale forgotten by many here, for reasons I don’t know. But if you go to Rome, or Aquitaine, or Germany or Francia and speak to the monks, you will hear of her. She burned London to the ground, nearly forcing Rome, the mightiest Empire the world has ever seen to give thought to abandoning Britain. They did not… but she came closer than anyone of her age to stopping Rome at the peak of its powers.
“But there is another who my fellow Saxons should know - even if my husband’s people do not - the Lady Æthelflæd of Mercia. Sister of Alfred, who led the lands of my cousin against the Northmen. She showed no fear. No hesitation when the people of this island needed her.
“Neither did my grandfather, the great Ælfmær, who brought us together once more despite the disunion among Saxons and Normans that threatened to tear us apart, nor did he hesitate when asked to pick up the cross to fight the heathens in the Holy Land. Neither did my father Thoræd hesitate to continue his father’s work in Jerusalem, or hold those gains, alone, the best he could against the might of the heathens.”
Her eyes burned, and she paused for a moment to regain her composure. Perhaps it was better she was tearing up - she could not see then how her speech was being received.
“I look to them all now: Boudica who faced down the might of Rome, Æthelflæd who showed no fear against the Great Heathen Army, my grandfather who refused to let England be torn apart, and my father, who for a time, became the envy of all of Christendom. They are my precursors. They are my ancestors. I… am their legacy.”
She opened her eyes wide and stared at the gallery. Her heart beat so fast and so loudly, she wondered if the entire hall could hear it.
“I am Ælfflæd, first of her name,” she said as she stood from the throne. “Queen of England. And I will uphold their hopes, their dreams, their ambition. I will not fail England. I will not fail them. And I will not fail you.”
There was a cheer from the gallery. She knew it was from a hall made up of a great many Occitans, along with many who cheered because they believed they had no choice. Or because they saw Geoffrey himself clapping and hailing her.
But it didn’t matter in that moment. Because the cheers, forced or not, were for her. The Queen of England. God had granted her a place few women held, whether he acted through Adelise, Geoffrey or whoever. He gave her the power he denied her brother and, through circumstance, her elder sister as well. This could have been her, after all, had Foulques not fallen.
She had joined her father and her grandfather as monarchs of England. But it was just the start, for the two men could not have been more different.
Her grandfather was a man from humble beginnings who healed England from near ruin to bring it to the precipice of greatness. And her father had reached those heights, and suffered a greater fall, where all he had fought to gain, his family included, was nearly lost.
She was the heir to them. And she was the heir to Boudica and Æthelflæd, courageous leaders in their own right, whether they were queens or not.
However, Ælfflæd was queen. In her own right. She still did not know exactly what that would mean. Nor did she know what type of monarch she would be.
But she was eager to find out.
Note: Duchess Æfrida gained a strong claim over England before her death, and I assume it's because she fabricated it, since she wasn't linked to any royals that I could find. As it turned out Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain is dated to around 1136, so I figured I could incorporate it. Giving Arthur a son was an embellishment... but that's the fun of it!
