The Heavy Crown
Ilchester, England - July 1138
“Eadward...” a soft voice called out in the night and the King turned over on his cot to slowly open his eyes expecting to see the darkness of his field tent. Instead, sitting on the edge of it next to him was his late wife.
“You should not be here,” she said to him with a loving voice and held a hand to his face.
As these dreams occurred often these days, Eadward held his own hand to Judith’s and looked up to her with sadness, “Where else am I to be, my love? I no longer have you and therefor I am lost in the wilderness.”
“Are you?” Judith suddenly took on an accusatory face, “Truly?”
“Indeed...Your Grace...” another voice called out from behind Judith and Eadward looked over her shoulder to see a stern eye from none other than Wulfrun of Mercia, “...Your precious Queen was barely cold in her grave before you went sniffing around at mine own daughters!”
A third voice called out with bitterness“...or in bed with another as is your want!”
“Eadward...please silence her,” Judith refused to look back at the sharp visage of Madrun of Gwynedd.
The King sat up in his cot and as he looked around, he was no longer in his field tent near to Ilchester but rather back to Gainsborough and sitting upon the throne. Before him stood the three women and each took a turn to give a bow before looking back to him with a glare.
“You are not real!” Eadward shouted at them, “None of you!”
Madrun took some delight as she found a glint in her eye, “Oh, but sir...we are very real.”
“Or were...” Wulfrun followed her words, “...no thanks to you.”
Judith retained a skeptical look but held sadness to her eyes, “Is it true, Eadward? What they say?”
“You did forgive me!” Eadward pleaded to her and put his head in his hands. When he raised it once again, he was now standing before the three without a stitch of clothes and each woman sat looking him over.
He looked around and tried to cover his nakedness, but it was Wulfnoth of Flint that spoke as he begged leave, “I be sorry, my Lord. I could not keep them away.”
Eadward reached out a hand to the chamber door at Rhuddlan as it shut leaving him alone with these women yet again but Madrun kept her grin, “You have put on weight.”
Judith still would not look to her as she stood to peer out a window, “He is older.”
“You would know,” Madrun shifted to stand behind her and answered with spite.
“And you would be silent forevermore!” Judith spun on her finally, “I had thought to be rid of you and yet you haunt me as much as this man here!”
Wulfrun stood and stepped to Eadward. After a brief look down to his naked waist she looked into his face with a wide smile, “Tsk, tsk, my Lord. It would seem that your past remembers you even if you do not remember it.”
“I know not why you would even be here?!” Eadward let go of his modesty and stood strong before her.
Madrun turned and took a jaunty step before draping an arm around Wulfrun, “It is his dreams, my Lady. He cannot let go of them. Like father, like son.”
“Like brother too...” Judith turned back to look out the window in reply.
Eadward suddenly looked up at Madrun as she straddled him in the bed, herself just as naked, “This is not right!”
“Then you should clothe yourself, sir...” she answered with a grin shot towards his late wife, “...I doubt very much that the Queen respects it.”
“I knew it,” Wulfrun looked on in disgust.
Judith too turned with great disappointment, “Never would let it go...could you?”
The King jumped from the bed pulling a sheet around his naked form and looked to all three, “You are apparitions...you are not real! I know not why you haunt me so, but be gone from here!”
“Because it is deserved...” another slim voice called out and Eadward turned to see the young form of Agatha of York, still lithe and beautiful with hair as auburn as the autumn leaves.
Eadward backed away in shock, “What tasks are these? You are nothing but some undigested beef and no thing else!”
The four women surrounded him and answered in unison, “Nay, my Lord...we are your legacy.”
“A woman scorned and betrayed,” Madrun suggested.
Judith was quick to follow, “A wife made to suffer...”
“A Lady put low for no thing other than your advancement,” Wulfrun too chimed in.
Yet it was Agatha that dealt the cruelest blow, “So like your father...a young life snuffed out.”
“Is it true, Eadward?” Judith asked again with fear in her eyes.
Wulfrun answered for her young cousin, “She was...though she did murder her own father. Mayhap that was deserved. But me, Your Grace? What did I do to deserve it?”
As Judith kept a pained face to Eadward, Madrun found another grin, “Did any one of us deserve the treatment given to us or were we just pawns in this man’s game of chess?”
Suddenly Judith spun on Madrun again, “You tried to take my husband from me!”
“I did no thing of the sort!” Madrun held clear in her view, “This man was a willing participant and pleaded to me for it time and again. You may ask the Lady Wulfrun here how he acts. She may tell you.”
Wulfrun kept a keen gaze to Eadward as she answered, “I hold no time for this woman of Gwynedd, but she does speak it true. At times, I did think he might be after me. Instead, he begged for my daughter’s hand...the both of them. A nasty old man...looking for such youth. Shame on you, sir. You are no thing like your brother!”
“He even leered at me,” Agatha offered a suggestion with a grin.
Madrun turned to stroke her long hair, “Well...you are rather pretty.”
“Pretty enough to destroy...I suppose,” Agatha answered with a sudden sad face.
Wulfrun did not let her gaze away from Eadward, “It be not our looks, my ladies. No. It is what it gains him that matters. Always.”
“There is the truth,” Madrun turned back once more and finally offered her own stern gaze.
Judith stepped forward and put a hand to his cheek, “Husband...it need not be like this.”
“My Lady Judith...” Agatha looked to her with some scorn, “...you be no innocent in this. You did allow him his actions.”
Madrun followed her quickly, “Indeed, my Lady Queen...I do think that you tried to take mine own life from me.”
“Had I tried...” Judith offered a quick, sharp eye, “...you would have died years before. I would put a bitch down when she is lame.”
Wulfrun held up a hand as she kept a stern gaze to the King, “My ladies...my Queen...place the blame where it is deserved and nowhere else. It resides before you in this figure.”
“And now you will find my daughter, as young as she is,” Agatha looked on with disgust.
“Mine as well, for your pleasure,” Wulfrun followed with an equally disgusted face.
Judith backed away and looked on Eadward with judgment, “So too my son...”
“Mine as well,” Madrun offered with a glint in her eye, “What a wonderful life you have led. I nearly miss you, sir.”
Eadward could take it no more and began to wave his hands before him to lose these apparitions...dreams...whatever they were. When he finally opened his eyes once more, he was returned to his field tent and the color outside the flap told to him that the morning was upon him. He felt at his face and the sweat was evident. Just a bad dream. That was all it was. He hoped.
He dressed quickly and moved out into the soft light beginning to shine upon the camp. He did not even bother with a morning cup of ale but made his way to his brother Beorhtmaer. He found him sitting by a low fire alongside his sons. As he approached, both of the young men stood but Beorhtmaer kept his place, “You need not be here, brother. Yet if so...find your armor.”
Eadward moved to sit and bade his nephews to do the same as he looked to his brother, “I would be here for this. I think not to fight, but our men should see their King.”
“Uhtræd had similar thoughts,” Beorhtmaer suggested as he finished off his slim morning breakfast, “You may remember...it served no real purpose yet made him think he was still in the thick of it.”
“I have been to battle before, sir,” Eadward replied with a testiness.
Wihtræd leaned forward with curiosity, “Really, uncle? When was that?”
“Victory at the Battle of Wessex, as I recall it,” Beorhtmaer grinned, “Eleven and twenty four, was it not?”
Eadward moved to pour some hot cider as he remembered it, “A long time ago.”
“Did you feel the rush of it, uncle?” Wihtræd persisted but his father shut him down quickly.
“His Grace performed well that day and we were all blessed,” Beorhtmaer waved a hand to send his sons to their business, “Ready the horses for we march soon. Tell the men to stick to the river and we shall meet these bastards when the sun crests.”
As Thurfrith and Wihtræd moved off to do their bidding, Beorhtmaer looked to his brother, “You seem to have had a fright.”
“A poor dream,” Eadward took a sip of his cider and looked to the dwindling flames.
Beorhtmaer kicked his boot to the logs left within the fire to stoke it one last time, “I hope it does not portend bad tidings upon us today.”
“My hope is the same,” Eadward kept his gaze ahead, “We have been to Wareham and found it wanting. Your choice to move to greet these men was the right thing. Your son Thurfrith does have the measure of these men and that you are here...”
“I am not the only member of our family to answer this call, brother,” Beorhtmaer stood and tossed the last of his cider into fire, “Our sister did tell us of this move.”
“Mathilda does lose some faith in her son,” Eadward kept his seat and his gaze, “She does not see the justice in his works.”
The King’s brother stood tall and looked on with question, “And yet...do you see yours? We are in it or we are not. You look pale to me.”
Eadward finally found his brother’s eye, “I recall the last time I went to battle. I was nearly sick to my stomach.”
“And you need not do so today...” Beorhtmaer allowed a slight smile, “...it is covered. Thurfrith holds the vanguard and I will take the flank. Wihtræd will mop up and all you need do is show your face.”
“I would do more than that...” Eadward began to say but his brother cut him off.
“No, you will not,” Beorhtmaer was quick in answer, “You will walk the line and give support and then retire for you must. We have done what is necessary and moved from Leicester to Wareham and now to here within months. Now is not the time to find your bravery, brother. You and I both said it to Uhtræd when it was clear and I say it to you now. Leave this to us.”
“And yet...” Eadward began to say but Beorhtmaer was quick to pull him up from his seat.
“And yet, you shall put on your armor and give the men a rousing speech. That is all that must needs be done.”
Eadward looked to him with a concerned eye, “I feel as though there is more to do, Beo.”
“Nay, brother...” Beorhtmaer answered quickly, “...our nephew is not even in command this day as he tucks his tail. Even were he here, this is a thing done. You have worry...I see it in your eyes. Let it go.”
A strong hand was put to Beorhtmaer’s shoulder as Eadward kept a concern, “God speed with you today, brother. I am sorry to bring on such worry.”
“Think no thing of it,” Beorhtmaer smiled and moved away calling over his shoulder, “And be ready for another rousing speech when we are done with this lot.”
Been somewhat quiet of late. Hopefully nothing more than that. 
