Heâs doing her a favour by making Edouard into a chad like she always wanted.
Maid of Norway, Queen of Scotland: A Plantagenet Britain Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
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Chapter XXIX - Fanciful Wales
October 1294. Shropshire, England
The carriage rocked from side to side, struggling against the uncertain grounds of the Welsh marches. Margaret could hear the members of her entourage riding their horses before and behind her coach, the lords and ladies that made up her court braving forward the journey back home.
There were some men, like Robert Bruce, who volunteered to fight in the war, alongside the men of their familyâs English lands. It had been greatly upsetting to know that, mostly because few deemed to speak to her about it, but Margaret knew there was little she could do about it. She couldnât exactly order them to return to Scotland. If they wished to kill themselves in France, they were free to do so.
She pulled the curtain of the carriage away from the window, looking out into the great expanse of nature that stretched across the county. They would be taking shelter in the city of Shrewsbury for the night, as she could already see the sun setting in the distance. They had been travelling for nearly a month now, moving slowly, but surely, and she could only hope they would be in Scotland before the end of the year.
It was already too cold for the month, she thought, and she had been born in Norway. Although she hardly remembered it, since it had been three years since she left. Sometimes, Margaret would remember bits and pieces of her home country, and her father. During her time there, she lived in Bergen, under the supervision of Bishop Narve, and King Eric would visit her nearly every month, bringing presents and stories. She remembered he had hair like hers, blue eyes and a soft smile. He had gentle hands and liked to pick her up in his arms, to throw her to the air to make her laugh and giggle.
He sent her frequent letters and she sent him back twice as many, written in her best Latin and read by Lady Egidia to be certain that the grammar was correct. For her saintâs day, he gave her a golden locket set with diamonds and emeralds. Margaret was certain he still loved her, despite the distance.
She missed him greatly. It seemed that ever since she was born, she was leaving or being left by so many members of her family. Her mother, her father, King Edward and his son, the Prince. Could there ever be any peace from it?
The carriage rolled to a stop and she looked out the window again, her procession now surrounded by tall houses and stone buildings. The door to her carriage was opened by Sir William Wallace, the tall captain of her guard offering a hand to allow her to step out. Margaret moved as elegantly as her position, and age, allowed, kicking out her velvet dress so as to not step on it.
William Wallace cleaned his throat. âHer Grace, Margaret, Queen of Scots,â he exclaimed as all those that stood around the carriage bowed or curtsied before her. Although she had left her carriage with a smile, Margaret felt it melt off her face at the look of everyone. They seemed fearful and the air had the taste of tears.
A man hurried to greet her, offering two large hands to clutch hers. âMy lady!â he exclaimed in a deeply-accented French. âHow joyful I am to see you well. The Lord knows how much I prayed for your safety.â
Margaret removed her hand from his grasp.
âHas something happened?â she asked in a soft voice.
âA rebel by the name Madog ap Llywelyn has inflamed the Welsh,â the man said. âThey have already hanged Sir Roger de Pulesdon, the High Sheriff of Anglesay.â He looked at her with the softness and gentility of a father. âWe feared of the same happening to you.â
A sheriff was hanged by rebels? The thought of it made her nervous, as well as the possibility of the same happening to her. âAnglesay?â Margaret asked. She looked at William Wallace. âHow far are we from Anglesay?â
âMany miles, Your Grace,â it was Lady Egidia who answered. âThank the Lord. Whatever trouble the Welsh have begun shall not reach you.â But Margaret took her foster motherâs hand, trembling with fear.
âIâm scared,â she admitted in Scots. Egidia stroked the back of her hand, as everyone looked upon them.
âDonât worry, my lady,â said Egidia. âWe won't let anything happen to you.â She stroked her arm. âThe Welsh have only acted, because they know King Edward is out of the country, but my lord of Cornwall will soon put down this rebellion. Even before then, though, we will already be on our merry way home.â
âI hope so,â said Margaret.
âCome along now, Your Grace,â her governess murmured in a gentle, but firm tone. âTime for supper and then, bed.â Margaret tried to groan in frustration, but Egidia began to pull at her and she had no choice but to obey.
Valois, France
Edmund opened his eyes with great difficulty, feeling as his head pounded him from the inside out. He felt as if he was a piece of meat that had been masticated and then chewed out, or that they had cut him open and then sewn him together again, though with his organs in all the wrong places. There was little to no strength left in his body and he could only wonder why God kept him alive still.
Servants bustled around them, carrying materials to and from the room. A doctor had been summoned, but Edmund did not know if he had arrived yet. In truth, it didnât matter. He was too late.
He could see Blancheâs face, still handsome after so many years together. She was six and forty now, her lips pursed in worry as she pressed a wet cloth to his forehead. Edmund knew, even without her saying it, that he had a terrible fever. He could feel it, the boiling blood and the fog that permeated his mind, though it had given him a reprieve in that brief moment. It was a slim chance to put things to right and he had to seize it.
âWhen Iâm buried, continue to Flanders,â Edmund began. âCount Guy will welcome you. He is friendly with Edward.â
âDonât speak such words,â she whispered. âDonât act as if you are already doomed."
âArenât I?â he asked with a grin. Blanche sighed, her eyes filling with tears. âThomas is a man already and safe in England, with Henry. You mustnât think of them until you, yourself, are safe.â
âEdmundâŚâ Blanche whispered.
âI love you,â Edmund murmured in return. His wife leaned her forehead against his, setting the cloth she was using aside. âIâve always loved you, Blanche. Please, tell me you know this.
âI do,â Blanche said. âI do know it and I love you too. I love you, Edmund. I love you more than the sun loves the heavens and the moon loves the stars. You are my husband, my lord and mine. You have always been so."
She raised her gaze to look at him and saw that he had closed his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. For a moment, she didnât move and only watched him in silent horror, the slow realisation of what had happened coming to her.
âMy husband is dead,â she murmured before raising her voice. âMy husband is dead.â And the King of France killed him.
Good chapter, hopefully this Welsh rebel is quickly dealt before major damage can be down. I wonder how things will go in France with Edmund now dead? How will King Edward react? Keep up the great work đđđ
Especially if his widowed sister-in-law continues to blame the King of France.
On the scale of 1-10 on Edward I's temper when he learns of his brother's death, I believe that it would be 20.
While he probably didn't kill Edmund, he did start the war that cost Edmund his life. That and Blanche is a grieving widow that is really upset with Philip, whatever he killed Edmund or not. A good example of this: OTL, people was upset with Richard III after Edward V and Richard disappeared(most likely, died in the Tower). Now, it would not matter to them on whatever they were killed on the order of Richard III or not. What mattered to them that they disappeared(or died in the Tower) under Richard III's watch.
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And in that dinner, Edmund called him someone with no honour and said he would go back to England, who Philip happens to be in war against.
And he did happily break an agreement before both man and God, so poisoning someone wouldn't be too far out there.
FYI: You're not allowed to defend Richard III in my threads. House rules, sorry :/
Either Richard killed the Princes or the Princes randomly died and Richard forgot to tell everyone.
I was not even defending Richard III. In fact, I dislike him simply because of the fact he overthrew the rightly king, who was his nephew. I was simply referring to how people in that time period would feel about him when it comes to Edward V and Richard.