The Song of Wessex
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Melun Castle - March 1318
She had been no more than a daughter of an Earl when she first found her match. Yet it was to a Prince even if he was a younger one and never expected to take the throne. And then? Everything changed. When before she had all the comforts in life to look forward to even with a too spirited and sometimes moody Prince, now she had so much more. Soon to finally marry a man younger than she, but then made a Duchess alongside him. Then a child, a daughter first. Then another...a son, finally. All the while, the relationship between this Earl’s daughter and the Prince...it festered...it grew distrustful...and then it finally broke. Even when more children came, there was no love between them. Not uncommon for many a noble marriage, but it was for this family.
Years she had spent in forced seclusion after a truly well planned effort. He should have believed in her. Believed in her goal for the future of their son. It had worked, after all. Was not her son now married to the very heir of Scotland? Did they not now have a son that was to be the King after her in his own right? Her own sigh was an answer. She was fifty and three. Her hair had gone white and her skin wrinkled. Her beauty was long over and she had aged more in these past two months than she had in the last ten years. And yet, she could not blame herself. She blamed him.
A deft play by the King to woo their son away from her. She had to admit that. Give her the freedom that she desired only to take away the one thing that was her all...her everything. And the boy had followed. Willingly...eagerly...too fascinated by shiny new toys just like when he was young.
She was the one that had given him his Princess!
She was the one that made it so that he would be the next King of Scotland! But all it took was a castle and a command...and his father’s respect. Bloody men! Fools! All of them!
Yet Aveline was never without another plan. And this one had backfired on her badly. As she sat alone in her locked chamber, she wondered if she had lost a step. The priest would be to her soon, but he was no answer. He could not say. Only Arthur...and he had already spoken his peace. From the moment he found out, he never let her forget her crime in his eyes and he was determined to punish her. There were no words that she might say for they had already been spoken in years past and the marriage was already over many years ago.
They had come for her at night. When she least expected it, the knock to her chamber door was hard and when they opened it, Queen Aveline was shocked. In her bed clothes, she stood from the bed forgetting any etiquette as they had done to her and began to scream at them. The soldiers did not care. They held orders from the King. She was to be arrested and they pulled her from her chamber without any dignity deserved by a Queen.
Was it to be The Tower? No. King Arthur planned to end this here and now and to France they stayed. She was placed to a new prison and their son, Prince Arthur was recalled from Bardney. At first the Prince could not believe it but as his father continued, it was clear what his mother had tried to do. Go to French Lords and convince them that Eadgar was a better item than Arthur? For as much as the Prince loved his mother...she had stepped too far. And still...the King was showing no mercy.
That had not stopped King Arthur from making this as transparent and legal as it could possibly be. Every great Lord had been called to Melun to hear the case. Aveline was a Duchess in her own right after being granted the Duchy of Lancaster to gift to her son upon her death. That made her a great Lord and they deserved a hearing in front of them due to their station and hers. Yet she was also a crowned Queen and here is where King Arthur made certain...the true judges would be ecclesiastical as well as great Lords. York, Gloucester, Orleans and Anjou as well as the Archbishops of Canterbury, Rouen and Paris. From Wales and Scotland...Ireland, England and France they came. Seven in all sat in judgment as her charges were listed in front of every single one. And Arthur himself sat at their head.
Earl Randolph of Gwent served as her prosecutor and the Queen was marched into the hall and made to listen as he recited to them all of her crimes.
“My great ecclesiastical Lords...my great Lords of the realm...I speak to you of a most heinous act...that of a wife against her lawful husband. And then
the most heinous act! That of a mother against her own child! This raised Lady that sits before you now has found plots in her life that would rival Livia of Rome in both treachery and treason. I put it to you that she has plotted murder...”
That one was true enough though it was slightly humorous to her that the exact murder was not explained.
“...and that she has rejoiced in the death of others!”
Also true, though how many of them had not?
“She commits crimes against God and man alike and sins like Eve in the Garden...”
Now where was he going with this?
“...as she lay with other men that are not her husband and our anointed King!”
True enough, that one, though the King had found his own playmates.
“A Lady so vile as that, she does not cease. She puts away Holy Church so that she might continue to sin...”
Now that she had never done! She was no great Christian, but at least her own mother was no heretic. Nor was her father!
“...and then causes Christ Jesus to weep as He did on the cross as she forsakes her husband...our anointed King...and her true born son, our heir!”
The heart of it...her real crime.
“Here is a Lady...a Queen no less...that would seek to act in treason against both King and Prince and plot against her own family. Many witnesses have said here that men of her employ had come to them with an idea…”
Yes...she had done that.
“...of placing the younger Prince of our King forward as the next heir to France. This Lady was not yet done! More have come forward to say that her plot was more vicious...more sinful than any yet heard. To see her youngest as heir to it all, my Lords!”
Aveline had finally rolled her eyes at this latest slander as it was the worst yet and this likely did her no favors.
“This
Queen...” Randolph had nearly spit the word, “...looked to plot the death of her own husband and that of her eldest son to see her youngest son put forward as our next King!”
The sound of the charges made it look bad. The tenor in the room made it look worse as many harsh boos came forth. Throughout it all, she had stolen looks to King Arthur as he watched with a steely eye. It was only then that she glanced a look to her two sons. Prince Eadgar could not face her and she understood. After all, it was he that was the center of all of this. Yet Prince Arthur? He had never wavered his eye. Not once. His look seem to bore a hole in her head and next to him was his wife, the Lady of Scotland herself. She remembered now why she had started it all in the first place.
“Your Grace!” came the booming voice of the Archbishop of Canterbury and it had pulled Aveline from her thoughts, “It is asked...how do you plead?”
The Queen had been harangued, challenged, put down and drawn through the mud. She knew her crime. That of loving her children not enough and herself perhaps too much. Never her husband and only herself. Yet she remained the Queen of England, France and Wales. Holding her head high, she had refused to answer.
“My Lady Queen,” Earl Randolph had stepped forward, “Many crimes have been put to you. His Grace has asked...it is asked...how you plead?!”
She smiled as she remembered her response to Arthur...“Does it matter?”
A great commotion had occurred after that and it was all the Archbishop could do to hold fast the court. The King himself had stood and stared at her with a hard eye and she merely smiled back to him. He, in turn, gave nod, “In as much as you refuse to speak on your behalf, then your silence denotes your agreement with the charges. Qui tacet consentire videtur.”
A tense silence took over the hall as they leaned to each other with great Lords and Archbishops speaking to each other and then the King. The whispers lasted only a short while and then the King stood once more, “It is our consideration that we do find you guilty on all counts and by the laws of our realm, we do hereby sentence you.”
It was then that the Prince stood in the hall and moved to hold close words with his father. All had gasped as King Arthur held up a hand while he spoke quietly with his son and then Arthur stepped forward with a harsh eye to his face, “In a fortnight hence, you are to be taken from this place and put to the square at Melun. There your life will be forfeit. In deference to your rank...and for the love that we once did share...your head will be separated from your shoulders by a blade of the crown. May God have mercy upon your soul!”
Never had her husband spoken so cruelly to her. Not when he took their children from her. Not when he locked her away. This was final...complete. Even then, her steely reserve had not faltered in front of the court yet inside, her heart sank. There was always another plan. What could it be this time?
And then two weeks passed by without a visit from her husband nor her youngest children. The night before, Prince Arthur had been given privilege to see her one last time. She recalled the rattling of keys as the door to her chamber was opened and the look upon her eldest son’s face as he entered. The Prince was ashen and it appeared that he had found some tears to his eyes.
“My Lady...” he had stated as he entered and that’s when Aveline’s will began to falter.
“Not maman?” she had asked him.
Prince Arthur had looked to her with a pained eye, “You did bring me into this world...and then sought to pull me out of it.”
“I never did, Arthur,” she tried to explain, “That was a lie.”
“Many lies have been told, my Lady...” the Prince had answered her, “...and many harmed by their malicious intent. Father...myself...you.”
She had tried once more her plea, “I did never lie to you, Arthur!”
“You would hold your explanation save for one answer...why?”
A last chance. One last play. If there were one thing she might do to save herself, here was her savior, “I have always done everything I have for your favor. My life has been spent in your service!”
The Prince had resisted her teary response and held her away, “You do not answer.”
“You were mine, Arthur...” Aveline had begun to weep heavily, “...never his! Five children but only one that mattered! And then he took you from me!”
“Father never took...maman,” the Prince felt a sting to his eye, “He gave.”
With a quick change in emotion, the Queen became angered and shouted, “He gave you nothing! It was I! I was the one that brought you your Scottish Princess! It was I that brought you the chance for the future...your future and that of your son! Do you not understand?!”
“Even now, you continue to lie?” the Prince had shown an astonishment.
Here it was. Her last true play. As King Arthur had stated, her life was forfeit. There was nothing left to live for as she saw the blank look upon her son’s face. He could not save her. Would not. Yet if she was to go from this world...then she would leave the King one last parting gift, “It is no lie and your father knows it well, my son...”
The Prince had watched her last teary confession with horror encroaching upon his face, “...Your revered wife and her place? Bought and paid for. Your father’s esteemed ally? An unwitting accomplice to the murder of his own mother and his own son. All in the knowledge of my husband...your father. Your Maud’s chance improved considerably due to my actions and all it took was a letter and some gold. Do you think the Queen of Scotland died by accident? Do you think the death of Radulf’s Prince a freak occurrence? Then you have not been paying attention!”
The Prince had been found speechless and it was only some solace to Aveline as he began to put the pieces into place. She would have her last victory here and whatever came after...that was for God to decide. No longer would she be at the whim of a King. Now, in the morning light, she remembered how the Prince had left her. Not a kiss to her cheek. Not a loving farewell. He had backed from her chamber without word or even a nod. A heavy price to pay for victory.
Then the priest came and her ladies. Dressed and prepared, she walked slowly to the square at Melun and was marched through a crowd of attendant guests made up of clergy and Lords from all areas of the realm. Many of the castle’s staff were there to witness it but there was no blood lust as was often seen. The Square was eerily silent. King Arthur stood on the hastily built platform and next to him a masked executioner with a great and shiny sword, the hilt of it rested to his thigh. She climbed the short stairs and was then turned to look upon the crowd.
“Would you finally wish to have a last word?” the King asked.
“I already have,” she said in a whisper and then turned to the rest, “Today I go before my maker...an innocent as I was on the day that I was born. I have been judged by mortal men but they are not the ultimate judge. Only God!”
Looking around, she saw the Lords of Gloucester...Norfolk...the aged Lady of Orleans...the younger French Lords...and not her children. Not a one of them in the crowd. She looked up to a window high above the square and thought she saw a face...not Arthur...not Eadgar...was it? Yes...a girl. Her Eleanor? With a sigh, she held her head high as she looked out again to finish her final statement, “I married a King. I have born a King. And I will die as a Queen...of England...of Wales...of France. Mark my actions if needs must...yet I have done my fill and God alone will do the accounting of it!”
With that, she turned to the masked executioner and handed him a purse and then her one lone Lady moved to help her with her dress as the top was removed to reveal a stark red shift underneath. There was no collar and Aveline was graceful as she stooped and then knelt to the ground. She took a deep breath and then placed her head upon the block, turning only slightly so that she might gain one last look to her husband, the King. That eye. That stern eye that Arthur had learned from his mother. There it was again. The last thing that she would see as she closed her eyes. One more deep breath…
...that she would never exhale.
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“You had everything, Arthur...” the King said to him, “...everything that you wanted.”
“Not what I wanted...everything but her,” the old man said to no one.
The King said it again, “Everything, my son. It was a good match. And look what it brought you.”
“It brought me nothing!”
Ælfstan stood over his bed and whispered, “It found you five good children if no thing else.”
The old man struggled in his sleep as he whispered in return, “And look what happened to them.”
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End of Chapter 6
