Sanctuary of Roses

"The blood of madness runs in her veins, say they."



"She wishes only to take her vows and live cloistered for the rest of her life. What man would take to wive such a woman?"



"The lady must be as comely as a horse to desire only solitude!"



The catty tongues had already begun to wag, thought Judith as she sat demurely in the queen's solar. Her relaxed posture and benign expression belied the anger and disgust that seethed within her at the nastiness abounding. She had not expected anything different, of course, knowing that many of the ladies of Eleanor's court were self-centered and vain, but their words served to spark her own indignation.



Before she could decide whether it would be detrimental to Madelyne to speak in her favor so soon, the door to the large, open chamber swung inward, allowing entry to a young page and the source of the raging gossip.



Judith, who had deliberately chosen to arrive prior to Madelyne instead of escorting her there, sat on a hassock near the queen, surrounded by some of Eleanor's favored ladies. Looking about the solar, she saw it as Madelyne must see it, entering this world for the first time: ladies dressed in bright colors, settled in groups about the room. Some sewed on embroidery, others shared a table of cheese and wine, still others sat with a lute. Two women pushed, tapped, and pulled on looms in a corner, weaving new tapestries for the great hall. The chamber was large and filled with sun, for on this warm day, the large rectangular windows were uncovered and allowed a comfortable breeze to flow through.



She flashed a brief smile, catching the eye of her childhood friend, as Madelyne followed the page who led the approach to her majesty. Be strong, Madelyne.



"Lady Madelyne de Belgrume," reported the page.



The women, who were scattered about the chamber, trickled into silence and cast sharp, interested stares at the lady who stood quietly before the queen.



Judith knew it had taken Tricky a concerted effort to dress and coif Madelyne in an appropriate manner-richly garbed in a new gown ordered days earlier, with a few jewels provided by Judith herself, for the woman still preferred the simple attire of a nun. But in her dark red bliaut, fitted along the wrists and waist under the loose crimson overtunic, Madelyne looked every inch the lady and ward of the king that she now was. Her thick black hair was wound and coiled in an intricate pattern of plaits around the crown of her head, with gold netting woven about and through it. Her lips were dark red as well-mayhap from nervous nibbling, Judith thought to herself. But Madelyne's fair, elegant face was serene as she curtseyed smoothly to Eleanor.



Whatever she was feeling was well-hidden behind that peaceful countenance.



"You are well come to my service," said the queen, a beautiful woman in her own right-and, Judith knew, astute enough to recognize that this new addition to her ladies in waiting would provide more than a little disruption. "You come to us from an abbey, I understand. Tell me a bit about your accomplishments there so that I may learn how you can best serve me." She smoothed her hand over the jewel-encrusted skirts that splayed over the heavy chair on which she sat.



"Aye, your majesty," Madelyne replied in her clear voice. "Whilst there I learned the healing arts, and became the most learned in the herbary. I tended a small garden of medicines as well. The nuns taught me to read and write Latin and Greek, and we studied many of the holy papers. I have learned some mathematics, though I confess 'twas not to my liking and I did not fare as well in those studies, and also some geography. As to embroidery and weaving, I am well-learned there and rather enjoy the rhythm of such tasks." She curtsied again.



Judith saw a narrowing of eyes among some of the ladies, and smirks of condescension from others. Lady Artemis de Trubell, who sat in a cluster of women away from Eleanor, tossed her ink-black head and smiled coolly. "You are well-suited to joining our queen's court, Lady Madelyne, as we spend overmuch of our time discussing Latin and Greek writings. And, of course, French and Italian as well."



A soft titter erupted from her clique of companions and Judith bit the wayward tongue that itched to lash out at Artemis. She wasn't surprised that the first attack had come thus, but it would do Madelyne no help if she interfered at this time. The queen, also, would remain silent, as it was not her practice to intervene among her ladies' spats. As she'd once told Judith, if that were the case, she would spend the whole of her days doing only that, and then would be seen as choosing favorites. Eleanor did, indeed, have her favorites, but they were subtly selected from ladies as intelligent and self-assured as she herself.



Madelyne turned politely-not enough that her back was to the queen, but just so that she could see the woman who'd spoken-and smiled. "I am very pleased to hear that, for I was led to believe that most of the writing and reading here at court was provided by scribes. I could not imagine needing to rely upon others to read my own private missives or study the Word of God."



Judith blinked, fighting to hold back the smile that tugged incorrigibly at the corners of her mouth. Was Madelyne sincere in her response-did she really believe that the ladies studied many languages?-or did she know that Artemis's comment was laced with sarcasm and mockery? Most of the ladies of the court did not read, or write, French-their own language-and certainly had no knowledge of any other tongue, written or spoken. 'Twas a lucky thing for Madelyne, whether she made her response in innocence or not, that Eleanor herself was an exception to that. The queen was, indeed, very well educated. Judith herself had only learned to write French once she arrived at court, and only because she had asked it of the queen.



"I am certain we shall have the opportunity to test your skills in Latin," spoke Eleanor, interrupting the moment. "Many of the messages I receive from my uncle in Rome are written thus. I am not as well learned in Latin myself, so mayhap you will assist me with them."



"Of course, your majesty," Madelyne curtsied again.



"For now, you may sit next to me. You may stitch on this embroidery and tell me more about life at the abbey."



"Of course, your majesty," replied Madelyne. "But, may I ask of you to hear tales of your journey to the Holy Lands? I have read maps of that place, but wish to know more of it from one who was there."



A palpable holding of breaths hushed over the room, and Judith clenched her fingers into her piece of embroidery. Eleanor did not take well to having her particular wishes diverted.



"A lady with her own agenda," murmured the queen.



As Madelyne sank obediently into her place next to the queen, she appeared to have no idea that she had perhaps offended her liege lady.



Eleanor looked down her elegant French nose at Madelyne as though assessing her lady's actions. "I should like to hear about your life at the abbey, Madelyne de Belgrume, and then, if it please me, I will tell you about Jerusalem and the other places."



Judith released her breath and picked up her own stitching, pleased that the queen was not offended. She could not hear the conversation that ensued between Madelyne and Eleanor, but noted that the queen appeared to be interested in the tales relayed to her, nodding her head in agreement and smiling at moments in a rueful manner.



The morning passed quickly, and the whispers, though still rumbling in the fringes of the group gathered about the throne, were not overt.



Several knocks on the chamber door, and consequent entries, did not give the ladies pause until a page entered, requesting that entry be allowed for Gavin Mal Verne. Judith looked quickly toward the entrance and saw the tall, dark form of her cousin as he strode in. A hush fell over the ladies as he passed through, his swift movement stirring the air and the hem of his tunic flapping against his powerful thighs.



"What brings you to my presence, Lord Mal Verne?"



He bowed to the queen. "The king has sent me to escort you to his chambers, your majesty."



Eleanor rose, and, standing on her dais, still had to look up at his hawklike, impervious face. "How foolish of my husband to waste the talents of a good man by sending him on an errand meant for a page. Nevertheless, I will accept your escort." She glanced about the room as she smoothed her skirts. "Your little nun has made herself quite entertaining to me this morrow," Eleanor commented as her eyes rested upon Madelyne.



"I have no doubt of that." Gavin's reply was impersonal, and Judith saw that he barely flickered his attention to Madelyne. "Your majesty, shall you accompany me?"



With a nod, Eleanor turned and walked quickly from the room, her jewel-laden skirts dragging behind her, as Gavin followed with nary an acknowledgement even to Judith.



"That man is fearsome," whispered one of the ladies as soon as the door closed. "I am like to have nightmares just seeing him!"



"'Tis said he killed his wife in a fit of rage. Is that true?" asked Lady Beatrice, a newer addition to the court.



"Of course it's not true," snapped Judith, standing abruptly. Her embroidery slid to the floor, and she stepped over it to approach the others. "Lady Nicola died from a fall off her horse."



Artemis slanted a brown-eyed look at her. "That is what Lord Mal Verne has said, but what else would such a man say should he be the cause of her demise? And what else would you say, Judith, if other than to defend your cousin? 'Tis most likely that he helped her in that fall, as I have heard tell she cuckolded him for another man!"



"'Though how you could still speak well of the man after your own tragedy, caused by Mal Verne, I cannot know," added another lady-Renee of Hintenston.



Judith felt as though she'd been punched in the middle. How did these cats know of Gavin's involvement-innocent as it was-in the death of her betrothed?



"He is not always quite so fearsome," purred a low voice from the corner. Lady Therese, widow of Lord Grayerton, looked up from her loom and her smile glinted slyly.



Judith frowned. She'd heard rumors, of course, that Gavin had been seen in her company, but she did not put much credence to it. Therese, well-known among the court for her overt sexual appetites and boastful comments, was much too coarse and conspicuous for Gavin's tastes.



"You would consort with such a man?" squeaked Beatrice, her blue eyes wide with alarm and admiration.



Therese, a diminutive, curvaceous woman, rose from the loom and stepped into the center of the room. "Dangerous men are much more exciting than those milksops like Reginald D'Orrais," she told the younger girl airily.



"Exciting or nay," Artemis said pointedly, "that man turns my blood cold. And one who would be seen with him is likely to soon find a cold grave. Just as his wife did." She turned suddenly to Madelyne. "Especially little nuns."



Renee and Beatrice tittered. Artemis stepped toward Madelyne, who remained in her seat by the queen's throne. "It must be frightening for you, little nun, to find yourself in such a vast world-so different from your cloister. Do you take care that you do not find yourself caught up in a world that you cannot manage."



"Many thanks for your concern, Lady Artemis. I have found naught to fear in this court thus far. Only the cats with sharp claws who seek a scratching place have drawn my attention. I shall deal with those cats as I did with the mousers at the abbey: leave them outside in the cold."



Judith settled in her seat. Madelyne might appear to be fragile and naive, but there was a solid shell of serenity about her that would keep the barbs from striking deeply.