The Life and Death of Richard Yea-and-NayHewlett, Maurice
General
The Life and Death of Richard Yea-and-Nay
Hewlett, Maurice
Richard I, King of England, 1157-1199 -- Fiction
They took her to the inn and unveiled her. Then the chief of the eunuchs
handed her a paper which he had written himself, being deprived of a
tongue:--'Madame, Fragrance of the Harem, Gulzareen (which is to say,
Golden Rose), thus I am commanded by my dreadful master. From this hour
and place you are free to do what seems best to your wisdom. The letters
of our lord will be sent forward by the proper bearers of them, one to
Gratz, where the Archduke watches the Melek, and one to the Emperor of
the Romans, wherever he may be found. In Gratz is he whom you seek. This
day six months I shall be here to attend your Sufficiency.' He bowed
three times, and went away.
'Now, mother,' said Jehane to the old duenna, 'do for me what I bid you,
and quickly. Get me brown juice for my skin, and a ragged kirtle and
bodice, such as the Egyptians wear. Give me money to line it, and then
let me go.' All this was done. Jehane put on vile raiment which barely
covered her, stained her fair face, neck, and arms brown, and let her
hair droop all about her. Then she went barefoot out, hugging herself
against the cold, being three months gone with child, and took the road
over barren moorland to Gratz.
She had not seen King Richard for nearly two years, at the thought of
which thing and of him the hot blood leapt up, to thrust and tingle in
her face. She did not mean to see him now if she could help it, for she
knew just how far she could withstand him; she would save him and then
go back. Thus she reasoned with herself as she trudged: 'Jehane, ma mye,
thou art wife now to a wise old man, who is good to thee, and has
exalted thee above all his women. Thou must have no lovers now. Only
save him, save him, save him, Lord Jesus, Lady Mary!' She treated this
as a prayer, and kept it very near her lips all the way to Gratz, except
when she felt herself flush all over with the thought, 'School of God!
Is so great a king to be prayed for, as if he were a sick monk?'
Nevertheless, she prayed more than she flushed. Nothing disturbed her;
she slept in woods, in byres, in stackyards; bought what she needed for
food, attracted no attention, and got no annoyance worthy the name. At
the closing in of the fifth day she saw the walls of the city rise above
the black moors into the sky, and the towers above them. The dome of a
church, gilded, caught the dying sun's eye; its towers were monstrous
tall, round, and peaked with caps of green copper. On the walls she
counted seven other towers, heavy, squat, flat-roofed fortresses with
huge battlements. A great flag hung in folds, motionless about a staff.
All was a uniform dun, muffled in stormy sky, lowering, remote from
knowledge, and alien.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account