I was blushing, for I had never before encountered such courtliness, nor such attention.
Fortunately Evelyn came to my rescue as I struggled to make some light, witty remark.
‘My Lord Saint-Valery, you are making my young companion blush with your pretty words. Maeb, our lord king likes to keep Sir Ranulph at his court for the beauty of his poetry. You have at your side one of England’s greatest poets. Is that not so, my lord?’
Ranulph made a deprecating gesture with one hand, then half turned aside as a servant made a fuss in the refilling of his wine cup.
The momentary distraction allowed Evelyn to whisper into my ear. ‘Be careful of him, Maeb. A celebrated poet he may be, but he is also one of Edmond’s spies at court. He uses his poetry and sweet tongue to coerce even the most well-kept secret from the tightest lips.’
I squeezed her hand, grateful for the warning.
I wondered if my table companion was mere happenchance, or if Edmond had decided I might be a spy in the employ of the King of Sicily after all.
Saint-Valery and I chatted for a while of Witenie, where I was born and raised. He knew of its market, having attended one day, which knowledge surprised me.
‘You did not see me?’ he said, his mouth curving in a smile. I was a little disturbed to suddenly realise how sensual that mouth was. ‘Choosing among the apples?’
‘No, my lord,’ I said, ‘for I should surely have remembered so distinguished a visitor had I seen you. Perhaps you came disguised? A travelling minstrel perhaps. A vagabond. So that none might recognise you and mark your presence.’
The smile widened a little, although the expression on his face was now speculative rather than amused. ‘You have courage with your words, Mistress Maeb. You are not afraid to tease.’
‘It is the wine,’ I murmured. ‘It goes to my head.’
‘Then I shall press it the more urgently upon you, that I might know you better.’
I was about to reply, but just then the mellow tones of two horns sounded by the door and all conversation stopped as we turned to look.
‘The king,’ Saint-Valery murmured, and with that all assembled at the long tables rose, and either bowed or dipped in courtesy.
Edmond and the Earl of Pengraic and Lady Adelie had entered the hall. Edmond led the way, Lady Adelie on his arm, with the earl a step behind. All were dressed richly, and I thought that Edmond now looked every part the king in his splendid blue tunic with its gold embroideries, fur-lined mantle, jewelled brooch, and heavily jewelled circlet upon his brow. He wore a sword at his left hip, and its hilt looked to me as if it were fashioned from pure gold inlaid with diamonds.
Lady Adelie looked weary, but otherwise sparkled with jewels in the circlet she wore on her head and wound through her braids which hung almost to the floor. The earl likewise wore rich cloth and many jewels, and a sword as well. He and the king were the only men in the hall, apart from the men-at-arms standing against the walls, who wore their weapons, although all of us carried small eating knives at our belts.
Saint-Valery saw me looking at the swords. ‘No one wears their sword in the presence of the king,’ he murmured, ‘save his host.’
I nodded my thanks.
Behind came Walter de Roche, the Earl of Summersete, and Gilbert de Montgomerie, the Earl of Scersberie.
Lord Stephen walked a few steps behind the two earls, looking splendid in a gold and silver tunic, possibly the one I had seen him in that first day I’d met him, and I am afraid my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. I wondered if he would see me from where he ate at high table.
After Stephen came Alice and Emmette and the two boys, Ancel and Robert, with Mistress Yvette a step behind. She was dressed in a manner almost as rich as Lady Adelie, which showed as nothing else the favour in which Lady Adelie held her.
Edmond and Lady Adelie drew close to where Evelyn, Saint-Valery and I stood, and while the countess kept her eyes ahead, the king glanced over.
For a moment he met my eyes, then I dropped mine and sank a little deeper in courtesy.
When I looked up again, the entire party had passed me and had arrived at the high table where they were in the process of seating themselves.
Once the high table had sat, Pengraic, who alone had remained standing, raised his wine cup and led the wassail toast in honour of Edmond.
‘Drinkhail!’ the assemblage responded as we raised our cups and toasted the king. Then we all sat, and the evening’s feasting and entertainment began.
Considering the king, the earl and their respective retinues had only arrived this morning, and with no warning, William the house steward had done his earl and his lady proud. A pig and a yearling ox had been slaughtered and roasted: a half score servants brought in the meat piled high on silver platters. As well as the pork and ox, several swans and a score of rabbits had been roasted and served, and there followed several platters of pigeon and fish in various spiced milks and pottages. And yet more men followed, bearing bowls of stews and vegetables, sauces and soups.
A servant appeared at my elbow, placing a trencher of bread before me, as well as a small plate. The high table was served their food first, then the servants came down the long lines of the table, offering us our choice of meats and their accompanying dishes.
Saint-Valery chose for me, selecting cuts of meats and sauces for my plate and trencher, until I thought that perhaps he was intending to feed me for a week. I protested somewhat weakly at the amount of food he thought I might eat and he inclined his head in acquiescence, and thus we began our feast.
Minstrels came to entertain us with harps and pipes and sweet voices.
I was, I confess it, overawed. Nothing in Lady Adelie’s household had prepared me for a courtly event like this. I stole glances at the high table, watching the king and the nobles eat and drink, laugh and gesture, and offer each other choice pieces of meat as well as other courtesies. I thought Stephen had been well placed, sitting between the earls of Summersete and Scersberie, and I confess I watched him the most and was both delighted and flustered when he saw me, and raised his wine cup in a greeting to me.
I was even more flustered when it became obvious that Saint-Valery had witnessed the exchange.
‘Lord Stephen shines like a young god, does he not,’ Saint-Valery said.
I did not know what to say, and hid my confusion with a sip of wine.
‘It is said that the earl seeks a foreign princess for his eldest son’s wife,’ Saint-Valery added.
‘And Lord Stephen would be worthy of such,’ I murmured, hoping it was the right thing to say.
‘But fear not,’ Saint-Valery said, ‘I am sure that Stephen will not forget you. Most lords take mistresses, and Stephen would treat such a woman well, I think. Perhaps you —’
‘I would not want such a thing!’ I said, hoping I had injected enough righteous indignation into my voice.
‘I was only going to suggest that you might like to attend his wife, as you
