Page 13 of Kept 2
‘Private train lines? Private trains? What the hell was wrong with this country?’
“What am I going to do here for a week?” I groan.
“There are some very nice walks around here,” the small Indian man behind the counter offers cheerfully.
“Thanks,” my words come out slightly muffled by my hands as I raise my head and give him an apologetic smile before leaving the shop, the bell over the door offering a farewell tinkle as it slams behind me.
My bag is heavy with clothes, books, snacks and the two cartons of milk I have just squeezed in, but I know I need to shoulder it and walk. Ereston is 40 miles away, as the crow flies. Hitchhiking seems my only option, although I haven’t seen a car in the entire time it has taken me to walk from the bus station to the main street.
The town is dead.
“And I will be too if I hang around any one place too long,” I murmur, taking note of the street signs and starting off towards my destination.
As I walk, a light rain begins to fall, just enough to dampen my mood further, make my hair heavy and my face slick. I hope I don’t catch a cold tramping in this dreary country as I concentrate on putting one foot ahead of the other and not tripping up on any of the rocks or little potholes on the side of the road. There is nowhere to shelter, I am essentially walking on a one-car-width road bisecting farmland, my only company the occasional sheep, and squished hedgehog road-kill, so there is nothing for it but to keep trudging until I reach Ereston.
I don’t know how long I’ve been walking, perhaps an hour, maybe two. It is past midday, and the countryside has changed to forest on one side of the road, open land on the other.
My feet are tired, so I decide to take a break, have something to eat, and read a little.
New Entry
The King gave me an ultimatum, and though it breaks my heart to confess it is so, I have capitulated. I pray one day, when we are together, Constance will understand the necessity of my actions – and forgive them.
Last night he called me once again to his royal chambers, ostensibly to cuv?e, but I knew the moment I entered all was not well.
“Nicholas, our ruse with Countess Elsbeth runs upon rocky shores,” he said as I unlaced his hose. She insists she will have no other and wishes you in her bed.”
“My liege ...”
“You will hear me out before speaking,” he commanded. “With and without I am besieged. The French become friendly with the Habsburgs, Rome seeks my blood, and I am called once again to marry against my heart. In all of this, you are aware, as I am sure your very astute father has made you so, that I have borrowed heavily to build my seaside fortifications to defend us should there come a Franco-German invasion.”
“Yes, my liege.”
“What you are perhaps unaware of, is that I have borrowed heavily from a certain very well-connected, rich and avaricious lady here at court.”
I could immediately see where this was heading, and my heart froze.
“It is my will that you entertain this lady as she so desires, for however long she so desireth it.”
“My king,” I fell to my knees before him, “I feared to bare my soul to you earlier, knowing that I might incur your wrath, but I am married – I have in secret wed the love of my life, and she awaits me at Ereston. I pray you find someone else to sacrifice to this monster.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Nicholas,” he snorted, “and get up before I use you as a footstool. This ‘monster’ is desired by men the length and breadth of Europe, and beyond I have no doubt. It will be no sacrifice to dip your wick for a while into her saucy cunt. And as for your marriage – I sanctioned no such union, and,” he held up his hand to forestall my apology, “will undertake never to do so should my will not be carried out.”
“Sire, please, anything else. Send me to the beaches to dig trenches for your fortifications, banish me from your court – please do not make me break the vows I took before God.”
“God!” Henry laughed, “a Catholic God, no doubt. Don’t think I am unaware you hold to your faith. No, Nicholas, you appeal to that which is not present in my breast. I believe in no such God – and I give you my final word now. Bed the slut, or I will behead you at dawn. Satisfy her, and you shall have your marriage license in due course.”
“This night? My liege?”
“Thisvery night.”
“Wow,” I stop reading for a second, my eyes wide, “you really sound like you didn’t want to go there, Lord Montague,” I shake my head, “but I bet you do.” I cram another chocolate biscuit into my mouth, turning the page quickly to find out what went down.
I left the king’s rooms as ordered and made my way to Countess Elsbeth’s suites.
It pains me to write what ensued, and yet, it is part of my penance that my Constance should know every particular and that I should honestly and faithfully record all.
The lady laughed when she opened the door, dressed in high costume, she had obviously just returned from a ball and had yet to undress for the evening. She wore a blood-red gown with white lace inserts across her small, high bosom; tiny green velvet flowers punctured with rubies sparkled all over as she moved. In her hair, similar small velvet and jewelled flowers were scattered like bright stars in the morning sky. I looked to her gown, rather than into her dark eyes, because once before I had fallen victim to her gaze and felt strangely disengaged from my body – hence I had decided never to look full into those orbs again. But this night I knew I would have no escape. As I looked up and met her black eyes, I seemed to become drawn to her. I will notlie, herbreath intoxicated me. I longed to run my hands across her creamy breasts where they swelled over the top of her gown, and all feelings of shame and guilt and regret fell away as she ordered her maidservants out and stepped back to allow me to enter.
