The servants kept bringing the drinks and the men kept emptying the jugs. By the time dessert had been finished the jokes and stories had become ribald, and Anne rose, bidding their guests good evening, and motioned for Aidith the serving-maid to follow her, leaving the further care of the guests to Aidith’s father the butler Aitkin. Although the men were married, and given their ages probably more or less happily, a buxom wench serving at table was likely to end up with her bottom pinched black and blue.
Darkness fell a little after half past seven that evening and the men chatted amiably on, telling taller and taller stories as the cups of wine and pints of ale disappeared. Finally, at about ten the guests called it a night, all deciding that they would leave at the same time so that they only had to pay one bribe to the guards at Newgate to get back into the city as the gates had closed at dusk. The going rate was a silver penny, but if they left individually the guard captain would receive a shilling in total. Like all the well-to-do who had seen hard times, they didn’t want to waste money.
Alan knocked on the Solar door. “They’ve gone,” he advised. “Would you care to come out?”
“A good meeting?” asked Anne, as Alan took her into his grasp and started to hum a tune, after a moment adding the words as they began to dance in the Hall, ignoring the servants clearing up. Once the rhythm was established Alan replied, “Yes, a good opportunity to talk and establish relations between people of different cultures. You take the lead, you’re better at it and I’ve had a few cups.”
Anne sang quietly, just for the two of them, as they moved together around the open floor, before they proceeded hand in hand up the stairs to the bedroom.
On Saturday 10th May the spy Gareth called to see them in the late afternoon, slipping in quietly and presenting himself unannounced in the Hall. Alan made a mental note to chastise Ranulf, the man in charge of the guard.
“God Hael, m’lord and m’lady!” Gareth said in his gravelly voice as he lowered himself onto a bench at Alan’s waved invitation.
“What information do you have for us, Gareth Haroldson?” asked Anne.
“Bishop William, Engelric and Ralph the Staller appear not to be actively plotting against you at the moment. However, Earl Ralph is looking to further his control of East Anglia. Men in Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex who have held freely in the past are being pressed to hold under him and are being offered his ‘protection’ in return. A few who have declined have had problems with ‘robbers’ raiding their villages. I’m aware that he dislikes the influence you have in Tendring and I think that you can expect some action on his part at some stage in the not too distant future. I’ll keep a close eye on him and his actions on your behalf.
“The main news relates not so much to your immediate interests, as it is high politics. You know, of course, that King William has taken steps to reduce the earl of Mercia’s influence and to increase his own control of that region, and that Edwin and Morcar are unhappy about that. Also that the Aetheling and a number of nobles fled to Scotland last month, and that it’s not a long distance from Scotland to Northumbria. The three Northern earls, Edwin, Morcar and Gospatric, met with some of the Aetheling’s agents- and also those of Bleddyn of Wales and the Danish King Swein Estrithson. The word I hear is that they are talking about inviting the Danes to invade.”
“In which case we shouldn’t have too much to worry about,” said Alan as an aside to Anne. “Swein hasn’t won a battle yet! He kept losing to Harold Hardrada and his Norwegians. His claim to the throne is that his uncle was Cnut, who seized the English crown by invasion.”
“You’ve said a number of times that the English should accept the Norman conquest because they wouldn’t be able to win in a battle against the Normans,” said Anne thoughtfully.
“That’s true. I’ve said it oft enough that I don’t need to go through the reasons again, but the main fact is that none of the available English leaders can beat William.”
Anne replied, “I wouldn’t be as dismissive about their chances as you are. What if either Edgar the Aetheling or Earl Waltheof grew a spine? Yes, they’re both young, but William was even younger when he started his fight to assert control of Normandy.” Before Alan could interject Anne waved him to keep silent with a small movement of her hand. “I know that you’ll reply that Edgar still couldn’t beat William. But what if William wasn’t there? What if he dies? His sons Robert, Richard and William are all around ten to twelve years of age.
“Which son would rule which lands? Who would act as regent? Matilda? FitzOsbern and Odo? Look what a bad job those two have done running England for only six months while William has been away! Robert of Eu and Robert of Mortain would be too old. The French and the Angevins would be lining up to attack Normandy, and the Danes and Norwegians to attack England. I’d suggest that the Norman control of England could be wrested away with one hunting ‘accident’ or one cup of poisoned wine, because without William the Norman barons would all go back to squabbling and fighting amongst themselves! King William is the mortar that binds the Normans together. Remove the mortar and the building collapses.”
Alan frowned in deep thought before nodding. “You’re right. Both myself and the other Normans have always thought as if he’ll always be there. Even apart from assassination, there’s always the vagaries of life; a storm at sea or a fall from a horse. I’ll have to stop being so arrogant and presumptuous.”
“Those are traits that you share with many others, my dear. And not all of them are Normans,” said Anne patting his arm.
The next day was Pentecost, the 11th May and by co-incidence a Sunday. It was also the day of Matilda’s coronation. At Westminster Morning Mass was said by Archbishop Stigand at Terce. The prelate entered dressed in his richly coloured and decorated vestments and moved towards the altar at the head of the procession of senior clerics, behind an acolyte swinging a golden censor creating a cloud of incense. A second acolyte carried a heavily illuminated bible on a red cushion and a third carried a large cross of gold.
Ealdred, the Archbishop of York, and a plethora of other bishops in their mitered hats followed in a long line behind the cross and moved to a line of chairs placed at one side of the Sanctuary. The Nave of the huge stone church was filled to capacity with nobles and their retainers, and the rear of the Nave was a packed mass of ordinary citizens. The common folk didn’t usually attend High Mass at the abbey, but they had been encouraged to come and see their new queen.
Apart from the king and his queen to be, the congregation was standing as no chairs or pews were provided. The choir was in elaborately-carved wooden stands on each side of the Nave located just before the Sanctuary and just beyond the two Transepts. In the Sanctuary the altar rail glistened with gilding and the large altar, covered in a white cloth embroidered with gold, was ablaze with light from many candles in golden candlesticks. Beautifully carved and exquisitely painted statues of Jesus, the saints, Mary and the Infant Jesus were in their places in the fore-part of the Nave, the Transepts, Choir, Ambulatories and the Sanctuary. Over the altar towered a massive figurine of Christ Crucified, made of wood and gesso.