Captives by Emily Murdoch Page A

wearing any others, the gold ring shone out in the light that poured through every window. It was beautiful.
    Ealdred smiled briefly. The ceremony was almost over; his job was almost done. He turned to the congregation.
    “I present to you your King and your Queen: King William and Queen Matilda!”
    William and Matilda rose.
    “King William and Queen Matilda!”
    This time it was Fitz, and not his younger brother who began the cheers, but it did not take long for the men and women around him to carry it on.
    “King William and Queen Matilda!”
    “Long life to William and Matilda!”
    “Hail to the Queen!”
    Fitz sighed heavily. There had been so much worry about what they would do if the Anglo-Saxons had risen against them, no one had really considered what they would do if nothing went wrong!
    “Really,” Fitz heard the same woman behind him speak again, “she is very beautiful. You cannot deny that; and after having so many children too.”
    Fitz smiled. Osbern had been right: the people here really did love Matilda. And why not – she was a woman who had taken a clear interest in her people, of both races.
    Now all they had to do was survive the coronation feast.

 
    Chapter Eleven
     
    Fitz put a hand on his stomach, and groaned. He could not remember eating so much before in his life, and his tunic was stretched uncomfortably. Every time he thought that the feast was over, another set of servants brought out more food.
    Osbern was sitting beside him, and laughed at the sight of his brother.
    “Truly, you cannot eat another bite?”
    Fitz groaned in response.
    He looked around him at the grand banquet that had been organised for Queen Matilda’s coronation. Anyone who was anyone was there, and thanks to the wine which had been flowing for the last few hours, the noise in the room was almost unbearable. The musicians in the corner were almost drowned out by the shouting, the laughing, and the talking that flowed out of everyone’s mouths. In one corner of the room, a group of men were gambling, surrounded by a gaggle of women avidly watching the game unfold.
    The tables were set as a square in the room, with men and women sitting on both the inside and the outside. A large fire was at the centre, over which some meat was still cooking. Fitz watched some of the juices splash down into the fire, causing a sweet aroma to drift his way. It smelt delicious – perhaps one more portion of food…
    King William and Queen Matilda were sitting at the top of the table. On William’s right hand side was Ealdred, looking more inebriated than was proper for an archbishop. On Matilda’s left hand side, Fitz saw with astonishment, was Edith. She looked uncomfortable, and yet sat there silently, picking at the bread that she had torn apart with her fingers.
    “She lives here now,” Osbern said, seeing where Fitz’s gaze had fallen. “Since her husband’s death, she has remained here, in the city of Winchester.”
    Fitz stared at the woman who had been Queen of England. She looked older than he had thought her, but then she had seen much pain and much suffering throughout her time as the mother of England. After seeing that she would not be able to provide the King with children, it was then her fate to watch him waste away, and see the peaceful country that they had built together fall around her.
    And now, here she was: not the host, but the guest of the Queen’s coronation feast. Fitz wondered how it did not taste bitter in her mouth.
    “She is a fine lady,” Osbern said softly.
    “Of course,” said Fitz, “you were her husband’s chaplain, and counsellor. You must have spent much of your time with her – what is she like?”
    Osbern considered for a moment. “She is a quiet lady,” he said finally. “Not a woman who looks for a debate or a fight. She was a good match for King Edward.”
    “And now?”
    “Now she is unmarriageable,” Osbern said matter-of-factly. “Edward was King of England, but he