Iylaine overhears

Iylaine looked up as the Duke came into the hall. Gwynn and Margaret both leapt up and ran to him to be kissed, squealing, “Papa! Papa!” as they went. Iylaine looked back at her dolls. Stupid dolls. She had not seen her Da in four days. It was only an hour to ride home, but that was too much for him, apparently.

“Didn’t you miss me even a little, Baby?” the Duke asked her sadly, but with a wink. He had come to her.

“I guess so,” she said sadly, without a wink.

“Your ardor unmans me,” he said dryly, but he kissed the top of her head.

The Duke had been away for nearly a week, and she had missed him, but that was only a small part of her burden of sadness. Her Da was away all the time, working on stupid Yware’s castle.

The Duke had only gone with the King to bring the Queen home again, for she was very ill. Iylaine wondered now whether he would tell the Duchess about what had happened. She was dying to know, for she had overheard the Duke saying that she might have taken her penance too far, and Iylaine was worried that such a thing might be possible. She was a very bad little girl, and often had plenty of penance to do.

She got up and sat in a chair, pretending to watch the fire, but listening all the while.

Matilda had been lying wearily on the couch that Ethelmund had made her, but she sat up now to make room for her husband. It was good—they would talk about it here, and not go away to talk in private. They still didn’t seem to realize how well she could hear with her little pointed ears. Of course, first they had to kiss and coo, but she could wait.

“How is she?” Matilda asked softly.

“In bad shape,” Alred sighed.

“What happened?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Iylaine saw the Duke lean forward to look at her, but she sagely watched the fire and did not make a sign of having heard.

“They’re not sure,” Alred said softly. “They found her lying on the ground, outside in the garden, curled up and moaning. Of course, she’s not talking about it. Now we don’t even know whether she’s not talking because she’s ill, or because she is still working on her penance.”

“Is she ill then?”

“I don’t know.” Iylaine could feel him looking at her again. She kicked her feet and watched the fire burn. He continued, “They think she might have been raped.”

Matilda gave a small shriek before she caught herself.

“They found a broken branch outside the wall—there are trees growing right up alongside the wall—and when they sent a man up to climb the tree it came from, he said he found footprints atop the wall. They think someone climbed in.”

“My God, Alred!” The Duchess put her arms around his neck, and he pulled her onto his lap. They were silent for a moment, and Iylaine waited. “Was she hurt?” Matilda asked.

“She doesn’t have a mark on her. But I suppose something must have happened. She’s truly not well. She’s not speaking, of course, but she won’t look anyone in the eye, either, nor eat at all. Sigefrith is heart-​stricken. There’s Maud, naturally, but it seems she also hinted to him that she might have been expecting a baby.”

“At least they won’t have to worry about that, then.”

“That’s so, but if she loses the baby through grief or simply through refusing to eat, it might be harder on them, all things considered.”

“Don’t they know who?”

“All of the lay-​brothers were eating at the time, and the monks were all together as well, unless some of them are covering for another.”

“Why won’t she tell them who?”

Alred didn’t answer, and Iylaine suspected he might have shrugged.

“Oh, Alred, I feel so badly for her. Whatever she has done, she hasn’t deserved this.”

“I sincerely hope they find the man. What Sigefrith needs right now is the chance to bloody his sword. He needs to be doing something, and it doesn’t seem that he can do anything for her. It’s as if he’s not even there. She’s aware of what’s happening around her—she dresses herself, and she climbed into the wagon by herself, and she seems to spend all of her time praying to herself with her little string of beads. But she won’t acknowledge the presence of anyone. I hope that she will at least talk to Father Brandt when he gets there. I hope he will relieve her of this ridiculous penance and let her talk.”

“Why did she ever do it anyway? She doesn’t eat meat and now she’s doing a month of silence. Do you think she told Brandt the truth?”

“Confessed, you mean? It may be. It seems a light penance, in that case, but perhaps he meant to match the penance to the strength of the woman, rather than to the sin.”

“It may have been too much for her in any case.”

“Let us hope not. She’s not worthy of him, but Sigefrith does love her, the poor old fool.”

“That makes two poor old fools,” the Duchess said, wrapping her arms around his neck again. “What’s a godling like you doing with a doltish little wench like me?”

Iylaine knew that voice and knew that further information about the Queen was unlikely to be forthcoming. But now she was more confused than ever. She remembered very well that Gunnie had said that raped meant when a woman was badly hurt by a man.

Furthermore, following the conversation she had overheard between Matilda and Sir Leila, she had dared to ask the Duchess whether the Lady Eadgith had been raped by her husband. Matilda had turned dreadfully red, but she had nonetheless told her she had been, and asked her not to talk about it with anyone.

Now the Queen had been raped by someone, and yet the Duke said that she did not seem to be hurt at all. She had seen Lady Eadgith’s bruised face, and she had been satisfied with the idea that this was what raped looked like. But now she wasn’t sure. She would have to ask Malcolm. Malcolm knew a great many things.