Captives by Emily Murdoch

wrong side of the blanket, was a fact that he had clearly never managed to escape.
    “Amen.”
    The murmuring stopped as Ealdred came to the end of his prayers. His sharp eyes looked out to the congregation, and Fitz was suddenly struck with the idea that Ealdred, despite concentrating on his prayers, knew exactly what was being said by the Anglo-Saxons who were watching.
    “My people,” the Archbishop said grandly, lifting up his arms as if he were about to embrace them, “there is nothing greater than seeing a partner in royal power such as this. Our Queen Matilda is not only the wife of our lord King William, or the mother of our future King, but she is a glorious beacon of life and love. It is she who will beg for mercy, and seek justice. It is she who will have the ear of our King, and use it wisely. It is she who knows the things that every mother seeks, and will seek it for us. Let us welcome her as a gift to our people that we have not deserved.”
    His words were not met by a cheer, although Fitz was almost glad that it was not. A cheer would have broken the silence, and it was delicate. No one cried out in anger, but no one cried out in support. It was a balance of wills between the Normans in the crowd and the Anglo-Saxons, and thankfully there was balance to be found.
    Ealdred moved around the thrones to the altar, upon which many objects sat. Fitz craned his neck, but he couldn’t quite make them out from where he was.
    A crown. Two crowns, in fact. Ealdred placed one on the head of King William, and then slowly placed the other on Queen Matilda’s.
    “In the name of the Holy Trinity,” Matilda said softly, “I promise three things to the Christian people who are subject to me: first, that God’s Church and all Christian people in my dominions preserve true peace; the second, that I forbid robbery and all unrighteous things to all orders; the third, that I promise and command justice and mercy in all judgements, so that the kind and merciful God because of this may grant us all his eternal mercy, who liveth and reigneth.”
    Fitz breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to memorise such a speech would have been difficult for many people, but Matilda had grappled with it like any great leader, and had beaten it.
    “The Christian Queen who observes these things will earn for herself worldly honour,” Ealdred said seriously, “and if she fails to fulfil that which was promised, then within a very short time things will grow worse among her people, and in the end it will all turn out for evil. Heed the warning, my lady Matilda.”
    “I heed your warning,” Matilda smiled at the numerous people watching her, clearly unworried by the attention on her.
    A small boy ran up to Ealdred, almost tripping over his long ceremonial robes. On any other occasion, a great cry of laughter would have risen up from the crowd. But not today. Not here.
    Ealdred took the small glass vial from the boy’s trembling outstretched hands, and bid him leave softly under his breath. He turned back to Matilda, unstopping the vial as he spoke.
    “Just as kings and queens have for ages past, I anoint you with this holy oil.”
    Allowing three or four drops to fall slowly onto his fingers, Ealdred then made the sign of the cross on Matilda’s forehead. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth seemed to murmur words of prayer.
    “Hail Queen Matilda!” a shout began somewhere to Fitz’s left, and he immediately took it up.
    “Hail Queen Matilda!” he called, and soon everyone was cheering. Sneaking a look over, Fitz saw his brother Osbern grinning.
    Ealdred waited for the commotion to calm down, and then continued.
    “To remind you of this sacred moment, I present to you a ring, made of gold to show the value you have to your people, and an emerald, the stone for this glorious month of May, to remind you when you became our Queen.”
    Matilda held out her hand, and Ealdred carefully put the ring on her finger. As she had abstained from