The Book of the Burning

KINGSBORO

Cedd found Isobel in the rose garden by the fountain, her hand over her round stomach.

“So,” the Queen said, “you have read Mother’s letter.”

“Yes,” Cedd nodded and sat beside his wife, “and the one that came from Imogen and Idris as well.”

He placed his hand on Isobel’s stomach and said, “Our son may be born into a safe world after all.”

“Or as safe as worlds can be,” said Isobel.

“It seems Teryn is returning with my neice.”

“My soon to be sister,” Isobel showed no emotion. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we choose to make royal alliances.”

“So does that mean Linalla will be my sister too?” Cedd grinned.

“In a way,” Isobel said, “though since I try not to think of Bohemond as my brother, it’s easier to disregard that aspect.”

“And what…. will that make Morgellyn?”

“Your sister, Cedd. She is always your sister.”

“And yours too. Ha, I see the thought makes you as nauseous as it does me.”

“I thought there was a closeness between you.”

Cedd made a noise, seemingly of discovery.

“It is the closeness of two bad children. Two bad apples. She has things on me. Bad choices, low choices I have made. That is our bond.”

“Yes,” Isobel nodded.

“Dear,” Cedd said now.

“Yes?”

“Lord Francis is fond of you.”

“Anthony’s brother?” Imogen smirked at Cedd. “And why are you telling me?”

“Because you should be happy,” Cedd said. “Because you came into this marriage knowing how it was with Anthony, and content to see me going off to bed with him, but—”

“Who will go to bed with me?” Imogen laughed as she stood and smoothed her pale blue gown over her belly.

“You are so fair!” Cedd smiled on her. “Such a woman should have as many lovers as she wishes!”

“Caedmon,” Isobel said, sternly, “you should be quieter when you say such things.”

The handsome man stood up, and he was only a little taller than her. He clasped her hands in his.

“We make a lovely couple, do we not? And soon we will have a lovely child. Maybe several. Let the people think what they wish. When this baby has come, when you are up to it again, if a man comes to you, then go to him. I am not an unfair man and you… are a queen out of legend.”

She was strangely touched, more than she expected. Isobel hadn’t planned to take any sort of lover. There were other things on her mind, things Cedd had never thought about. Down south, Solahn was annexing Zahem, and though he mattered little to people in Westrial, this was the doing of Phineas. Rufus was sailing south, back home to Daumany, and though to all the Sendic kings this seemed like excellent news, Isobel, who now knew how little her cousin cared for family ties, wondered if, rather than allying with the southern kingdoms, he might make a bid to seize them.

Isobel placed her hands on her firm stomach, sheltering the life inside, and looked up at her husband.

He is so handsome, she thought. And so good. Far better than he knows.

AMBRIDGE

As she lay on her side, watching Roderick dress.

Edith said, “Soon you will be able to stay. Soon you may wake here if you will.”

The Queen sat up, winding the bedsheet about her, then letting it go. Her breasts were not as high as they had once been, and parts of her, once tight, had begun to spread. But her hair was still rich and golden and, looking at her reflection in the mirror, she judged herself fair.

“I am not begging you, Roderick. I am only saying, if you would like.”

Roderick was even better looking that the first time he had come to her when they were both younger, and now he came to Edith, kissing her fiercely.

“My Queen you only have to whistle and I’ll come like your dog. But,” he warned, his face still close to hers, “right now you are right. It isn’t seemly for me to be here too long, to be seen coming out a Queen in mourning’s chambers.”

“True, true,” Edith nodded. “Besides, I need time to myself, to think of something, to put things in order.”

Roderick kissed her extended hand and left her there. Edith sat naked for a long time, studying herself, studying her life. It was not as if she would ever return to Hale and certainly not North Hale.  It was unlikely she would ever be Queen of that land again, but now, with only Inglad and with Edmund gone, she was more Queen than she had ever been.

The whole time she had been with Roderick, Edith had wanted to confess to her lover, but her confession was about Allyn or around Allyn, was about Roderick’s very best friend. Now that Edmund was gone, now that she was a Queen with no king beside her, she did not know that she wanted her brother to be King, her brother who could make no decision on his own, who might, no, who would, in the end, wed some younger, simpler girl and make her a Queen. And then what of Edith? No, she thought, she should have had a son as Morgellyn Aethalyn had sons, probably none of them her dead husband’s. She should have had a young stupid son who could not come to power for years so that no one would think of handing her throne to Allyn.

“A son. I will have a son,” Edith decided, touching her flat stomach.

“I… will have Edmund’s son.”