Free Fires of Winter by Roberta Gellis

accept Stephen as king. All this might still have come to nothing, Sir Gerald went on, but Salisbury and Winchester together had talked William Pont de l’Arche into putting the royal treasure into Stephen’s hands. Stephen now had the funds to pay the mercenary army his wife was sending in waves from Flanders, and the archbishop of Canterbury, with the bishop of London’s approval, had hesitated no longer but had crowned Stephen king in Westminster on 22 December. Papa stood gaping like a netted fish, staring at Sir Gerald, and after a moment Magnus shrugged.
    â€œSo, all the better,” he said indifferently. “We will not have Matilda as queen.”
    Papa turned his shocked gaze on Magnus. “But Stephen swore ,” Papa roared. “He fought for the right to swear to Matilda before Robert of Gloucester.”
    Magnus was the cleverest of my brothers, and not the sweetest. I did not always succeed in duping him, and when I did get my way, I was often left wondering whether he had been fooled or yielded because what I desired fit in with some private purpose of his own.
    Now Magnus shrugged again and smiled. “That would be a clever move to make. After Stephen himself is forsworn, with the august approval of three bishops and an archbishop, how can any other man be troubled about violating that oath? It is no bad thing to have a clever king.”
    â€œIt is no good thing to have a dishonorable king,” Papa rejoined. “I did not love Henry, but a man could trust his word once given. Who could trust the promise of a man who forswears himself apurpose?”
    â€œWould you rather trust the promise of a woman?” Magnus asked, his lips twisting. “Do you think Matilda more likely to stand by her word than Stephen?”
    I was annoyed. I cannot say I was above duplicity in dealing with my father and brothers when their misconceptions about me and protective instincts threatened my reason and freedom, but I have never broken a promise and I do not see why women should be thought less trustworthy than men.
    â€œWhy should you think Lady Matilda more likely to take what is ours from us? Is she not likely to abide more faithfully by her father’s arrangements than a nephew who has already violated his oath?” I asked hotly, and, I admit, considering what I knew of Matilda’s character, before I thought. And then, seeing how surprised the men looked, I realized they might have been considering the nebulous “good of the realm,” which so often occupies men when they should be thinking of their own affairs, and I added, “I suppose you are talking about the possibility that Wyth, Rydal, and Irthing will be seized by the Crown and bestowed on others?”
    My father put out his hand and stroked my cheek. “Neither is any trouble to concern you, pretty chick. You may be sure I will find a husband for you whose place is secure—but not tomorrow, eh, my love? You are needed here at Ulle, and we must see what comes of this usurper’s claim to the throne before I choose a man.”
    â€œDo not so glibly say ‘usurper’ of a king who has a fortune in hand to pay the army of mercenaries that support his claim,” Magnus warned.
    Turning from me, my father made some sharp remark in return, but I had lost interest in the discussion, which I knew would have no immediate result. I had heard everything Sir Gerald had to say, so I knew the facts, and I had noted Papa’s and Magnus’s opinions, which I was certain would only become more fixed the longer they argued. Ulle breeds stubborn folk. If it should be necessary in the future for me to try to bring them together or to change some plan of action, I had the information I would need to reason or plead, speak or weep. I felt I could let my mind wander to a more personal topic—that of my marriage.
    By Church law—a law made by men, of course—a girl may be married at twelve.