Free Fires of Winter by Roberta Gellis Page B

his comfort myself, however, I brought him to Winifred to be cared for so I could go back to the hall. And just as I feared, Magnus and Papa were at each other, hammer and tongs, Papa swearing he would stand by his oath to Matilda and Magnus swearing that Papa would ruin us by opposing the power Stephen had mustered. Usually I did not interfere between my father and my brothers when they argued. They loved each other too well to do one another any harm; in fact, mostly they seemed to enjoy a loud quarrel. But they were all stubborn men, so sometimes, if the matter seemed important, I would make peace between them. Then, later, in my own way, I would bring one or the other to see the case as I thought right.
    This time I stood silent, though I was shivering with inner cold. This time, I knew that tears and pleas would not change Papa’s purpose, yet I felt sure it was Magnus who had the right of the argument. He, like me, was of Ulle and cared nothing whether we were ruled by Scot or Norman so long as the overlord was just. What was foremost in Magnus’s mind was the safety of our lands. Moreover, what he said was true; Cumbria had been subject to the king of England since the time of the first William. David had been my father’s overlord, but only as a vassal of the English Crown.
    As if answering my thought, Papa snarled, “I do not swear to David as king of Scotland but to Matilda, who is the rightful queen.”
    â€œShe is too late with her claim,” Magnus snapped in reply. “No human hand can wipe the holy chrism from Stephen’s brow. Whether or not the archbishop of Canterbury was right or wrong in anointing him king and setting Saint Edward’s crown on his head is not ours to decide. Stephen is king of England. Swearing faith to Matilda cannot change that. It can only lose us our lands when Stephen comes to contest the Scots.”
    â€œI swore—”
    â€œYou are absolved by the highest priests in England!” Magnus shouted. “Did not they swear also? You do not want Matilda for queen, do you?”
    My father shrugged. “What does it matter who rules England? David will be our overlord again if Matilda takes the throne. Queens even less than kings are likely to trouble us. There are no jewels here, no rich fabrics, and no reason to fear us, since we swore while she was the weaker—”
    â€œAnd so you name us enemy to the stronger,” Magnus interrupted furiously. “I tell you, Matilda will never hold the throne, and David will not hold the north. If he stopped with taking Cumbria, Stephen might ignore it since there would be no one—or almost no one—to protest David’s rule. But David will strive to take Northumbria too, and they will resist and cry to Stephen for help. And Stephen will come to them. So early in his reign it would be disaster for him to refuse help to a vassal attacked by a foreign king.”
    Papa growled a wordless, angry admission that Magnus was right and kicked a log protruding from the hearth, which sent sparks fountaining up toward the black beams of the roof. There was no chance of setting the high roof afire, but some of the embers that sprayed outward flew beyond the slabs of stone on which the fire was laid and smouldered among the dry rushes. I stamped out a few near my feet, and a manservant ran to kill the others. Papa stared morosely at the threads of smoke that rose and then were extinguished by the servant’s feet.
    â€œI have lived my whole life in the expectation that this summons would come,” my father said at last. “I will not turn my back on it. And who knows,” he added, shrugging again, “David may conquer.”
    Magnus, enraged beyond speech, did not answer that but flung himself out of the hall. I heard him calling for his horse before a servant closed the door, which he had left standing open in his fury. Papa did not raise his eyes to follow Magnus nor to meet