All the World (Hand in Hand Chronicles)

Chapter 17: " And that I be protector over him"

"For the sake of not descending into madness I'm choosing to find it funny that it's happened twice," I say, staring out over the dark water.
"That's one way to look at it," Aimee says.
"Really? Who gets exiled twice? Me apparently but it's just strange. Odd the turns life takes," I say.
"Has he lost his mind?" Maggie asks.
"Little bit," Alice says.
All my girls are here. I'm on a ship. To bloody Ireland.
Life has been madness, more than usual in fact. Edward decided I would go stay in Ireland. I was nearly relieved at the idea of any sanctuary for me and the girls who are in danger by default. All my lands revert to the crown due to my exile, however, Edward juggled lands he could give me and now my income is the same, although now some of it's in Maggie's name as well.
To that end she isn't exiled. She chose to come. I had some fear for her well being so I was well with that. And she was a bit enthusiastic, professing never having seen Ireland.
"I don't think there's anything to see," I say.
"I want to come. There's nothing here anyway," she says.
So she comes. Edward saw us off. His kisses are still warm in my mouth and we're already out to sea. I was set to sail before the 25th of June, when I was to be excommunicated. That wasn't doable so we're a couple days late but by some miracle nobody dramatic excommunicated with me. Edward also gave us over a thousand crowns, and made me Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. I didn't know that was actually a position but here we are. It's mostly him jibing the opposition. I'm not in exile, I am in exile, but I'm not I have an actual job.
And now we're on a boat. To bloody Ireland. I'm holding my five month old baby who cried for anyone else. And the girls are trying to figure out when I lost my mind and if they should do anything.
"Seriously help me think has anyone in the world ever been exiled twice? In the span of exactly two years?" I go on.
"No, you're very special," Aimee says, tiredly.
"We could talk about this now are we going to tell the Flower? Or should we skip the first one? I feel like she'll judge me once she can talk let's skip it," I say, balancing the baby easily in my arms. She was fussing so we passed her back and forth till she picked a person. Usually she's good with Alice she likes her mummy but I think sometimes she wants my attention.
"I think we should skip, a lot. When we later refer to our lives," Aimee says, arm around Alice.
"It's not our fault though. And now we're Lord and Lady of Ireland this is a good position, we can seem normal," Maggie says.
"Maybe not we haven't unpacked and the king was involved in packing us," I say.
"What do you mean?" Maggie asks.
"Yeah, of course the king ordered people to load us up," Alice says.
"Oh my god they don't know about the tapestries," I say, to Aimee. That actually gets a grin out of her.
"What?" Alice asks.
"Oh my god," I laugh, "All right this is sad because Edward doesn't react well but we have to find it funny."
"What did we even do with them?" Aimee asks.
"You and Jean got productive and hung two up the rest were ugly we sold them for sword money d'you remember? Jean and I couldn't figure out how to sell them so we pretended to be thieves and sold them?" I ask, laughing, "I hadn't laughed that much in ages."
"Oh my god I forgot I let you two do that," Aimee laughs.
"What are you talking about?" Alice asks.
"Is this something we need to worry about?" Maggie asks.
"Oh yes," I laugh.
"Did Edward ever bring it up?" Aimee asks.
"God no I don't think he remembered doing it," I say, trying to stop laughing, "I told Richmond that story I don't think he believed me but it got us through an evening after Parliament."
"What happened?" Alice asks.
"My first exile—oh my god that is so weird nobody should ever have to say 'the first time I got exiled for being a pretty boy'—God in heaven my father's telling the angels not to let me in heaven," I laugh.
"We're awful," Aimee is laughing too.
"What happened, girls, is first time I was exiled, the king was not doing well emotionally with that and he sent me, us, I suppose me, with sixteen tapestries. He sent other things as well but nobody is clear on why he sent sixteen tapestries," I say, finally regaining my composure.
"For like, the castle?" Maggie asks.
"Yes, but my not having furniture, a staff, cutlery, or a host of other things, is much more significant than tapestries and why sixteen?" I sigh.
"He also send you jousting padding," Aimee says.
"Yeah he does that periodically though, he knows I get it into my head to joust and he'll just get me better padding," I say.
"So how many tapestries do we think we have this time?" Maggie asks.
Aimee and I look at her.
"Many," I say.
We dock in Ireland, and I'm met with a rolling, surprisingly green country shrouded in fog. My heart sinks for a moment as I realize this is my home. Indefinitely. But it's within Edward's domain. I'm in exile in every sense of the word but I'm still technically holding a post.
We are to live at Carrickfergus Castle, it's situated on the coast so docking and unloading the household is mostly easy. I brought my own trusted household, which admittedly Aimee usually manages since I manage Edward. Jean stayed home this time, I wanted someone we could trust to run messages between me and Edward.
The earl of Ulster, the previous lord of Ireland, is surprisingly gracious about my getting the post. Apparently they've had trouble with rebels and they're glad someone else has to deal with it? I don't even care at this point.
Ireland is surprisingly foreign, and despite our household this is much closer to the days of my own youth than I've been in years. It's not raining but you can't see the sun which is odd. And there are sheep, everywhere. I'm struck with the sudden sense of longing to run back to England.
The girls however, seem tentatively happy to explore. We walk through Carrikfergus castle, I get my sense of direction, and then we survey the lands.
The land is green.
And wet.
It's meant to be summer and the girls are in short sleeved dresses and my tunic had sleeves above my elbow.
"Is it still summer? Is it not July already? Why is the rain cold?" I ask, holding up a hand to feel the slight rain drops, "It's raining isn't it? Or is the mist just that heavy? Does anyone remember why we didn't just go to France?"
"I think it's pretty," Alice says, "I mean, the green is pretty."
"There's a lot of sheep are these ours?" Aimee asks.
"Look it's a lamb, look little Flower, it's so cute," Maggie says, she's holding the baby now, and reaches out to pet a sheep.
"Don't touch those Maggie, they're poisonous," I say.
"Sheep are not poisonous," Maggie says.
"Really? You think? Do you know anyone who has been bitten by one and lived?" I ask, hands on hips.
She sticks out her tongue at me and pets the sheep. I stick out my tongue back at her.
"Why does he think every animal is poisonous?" Alice asks, quietly.
"We don't know," Aimee says, nicely.
"Can anyone confirm that it's still July but it feels like October? How long were we on that ship?" I ask, tipping my face up to the rain.
"It's colder here, that's just the island," Alice says.
"It's right next to our island," I say.
They can't explain that.
The staff get us unpacked and settled, there's a normal number of tapestries. There's also a letter from Edward, three actually, promising me he'll get me home. There's no instructions for how to be Lord of Ireland, so I'm going to have to beg help of the last fellow to do it. And I do and he only held the position a day so that's fun.
Being Lord of Ireland lightly means I take all issues the subjects have to the king, and it means that I handle anything they might need administratively or to do with the military. I have a small militia at my command, and a set number of nobles who live here and just farm sheep or something, who will come to me with requests.
All this makes my head spin, but when it stops spinning, I'm struck by an odd sense of peace.
I had no idea how it was building in me till now. But over the years the past few years my reputation has grown to where I cannot even breath without being judged for it. Every man in england hated me and it weighed upon me but I had no idea how much until now. It was like being forever trapped in a storm.
And this is daylight.
I'm a man again. A normal man.
I can walk out of the castle and down to the docks and chat with the workers. The nobles will call upon me and we'll have a rational conversation about what's troubling them, and if I don't know how to help I promise to try and they're well with that.
I didn't know how far from reality I'd gotten till I stand on the castle steps, watching Maggie play in the grass, encouraging our little Flower to try to walk, Alice watching and laughing. My girls are happy. Maggie's braided flowers in her hair. Alice holds our daughter up, letting the baby laugh as she feels rain on her face for the first time.
We have peace. A peace I didn't even know we needed. Well, I knew we were missing it. But so suddenly we're terribly real. And I'm just a person. My name means almost nothing to these people the rumors didn't reach here. A couple say they think they knew I was Earl of Cornwall. I brush off that I took the post for the king. Yes I know the king I was one of his knights. Simple. Yet so far from the truth.
And the poison of it all?
I miss him. No I don't miss england. I don't miss the gossip and the earls and the sickness. But I miss Edward. I want him here. He'd love it. He and I could walk on the dock for hours. Go riding in the lush green hills. And worse I know he's back there in hell. And yet somehow I've discovered a slice of heaven.
It nearly makes me angry. I want this peace with him. I don't understand why we can't have it. What is so wicked in me that I don't deserve this life with him? Worse, why do I have to choose? I will chose him but god why does it have to be so hard?
"Is it wrong to say I'm almost glad we came here?" Aimee asks me one night, as we stand on the ramparts looking back towards england. It's the end of summer, and growing even colder.
"No it's not. Because I feel the same," I say, quietly, "Not that I don't miss him. I do."
"You still love him that much?" She asks, "In spite of all —all of it? Everything we've been through."
I nod, tears in my eyes, "If he were well, I might feel different. But he's not. He's suffering. If he asks me I'd go to him. It's not the same love, that I told you of. The day you first asked me about the truth of it. That was love yes but youth and lust. This is now everything. I love him through everything beyond all reason. I'll stay away because he sent me. But I'll return if he calls to me."
She nods, tears are in her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," I say, arm around her shoulders, "We're safe here. Edward is handling England. Now they won't attack him. I'm gone. And so he can calm things down a bit."
I actually believe that as well. They'll leave him alone I'm gone. And we'll work it out. He can come here and visit us help conquer more of Ireland that's a war they love war. Then in a military capacity he and I can go to Scotland. And I'll still live here officially and keep my household here but now and then I can slip into England in disguise. He loves dressing as a common man and going on boating trips and things we'll do that.
I write all this to him. Naively believing that it can be true.
Because I am not ready to give up the happiness I feel here. Despite my initial dread Ireland instantly becomes a sanctuary.
By fall there's some fighting with rebels. I raise the militia. It's been years since I've been to war and I'm surprised at how optimistic I feel. More than that. The men believe in me.
"You warred in Scotland?" One asks.
"Yes, under the old king," I say.
That's all it takes. They trust me enough to actually listen to me. And we run off the rebels with little trouble. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying my new position. I'm Lord of Ireland. The nobles are reasonable. I have my family here with me. I bring in minstrels to play and the girls take turns dancing with each other and me. Maggie's as good a dancer as I am, I am mostly from sword fighting she is from actual dancing but it works. We laugh. I spin my sister around until she's laughing too.
I feel like we've won a little. I've finally brought them peace. A few short months ago we were hiding in Windsor barricaded behind doors and guards, with me contemplating hiring people to test the food. Now we're watching the baby take her first steps, and waiting for the first snowfall.
Meanwhile in England, Edward is still back in our personal hell. He has a campaign to Scotland which comes to nothing. He's losing any claim to Scotland, and he spends his days moderating the earls and slowly buying back their favor. With me gone they don't oppose him personally, so that's good. He tries to hold a tournament and they do not come, proving their support is fleeting. He swears in his letters he'll have me home any day. I point out that we're well here, everyone is safe, securing the kingdom is key. I'm with him in my heart and soon we'll be together again. He and Isabella can come visit us in Ireland, that breaks no exile. And he and I can meet on campaign in Scotland I point out.
He ignores all of this, talking only of me coming home.
Isabella even writes, which is kind, to me and Maggie saying she hopes to see us back in court soon. I don't know if Edward encouraged it but at least it's kind.
I write to him. I say I wish you were here. I don't say I wish I were there. Selfishly I don't.
Lord of Ireland. Lord of the manor. For the first time in years I actually have time to breath. And the air is cool and fresh in my lungs. I stand on the roof and scream at the heavens.
Why? What did we do that was so wrong? And why do I get to be free while he remains in torment? I can't be at peace without him. Not with him there.
Filthy. Arrogant. Sodomite. Freak.
All their words still play in my ears, even now months removed. I voice it to Aimee.
"They knew about Alice. The little baby was no secret. Let me get this straight, I'm married, have a mistress, and a child, and I'm running Cornwall, and having an affair with the king? That doesn't even make sense," I say.
"Piers, you were doing all those things," Aimee says, so tiredly.
"I know but it doesn't make sense when you say it out. How do I have that kind of time?" I point out.
"You're never going to understand. It's hate," Aimee says, "Look at me, Piers. It's hate. And prejudice. You have done nothing wrong. It is their intolerance and their need to be cruel to other people. There is nothing wrong with you. Only with them."
I begin to weep softly at her words.
"We are in this mess because you were kind enough to return the love he has for you. Because you're not weak and you don't forsake him and they punish you more for it. I've known you and Edward since you were fifteen. There is nothing wrong with your love."
"If we'd hidden. If we'd done something else, anything but let them know the truth—," I say, looking at my shaking hands.
"Piers. It is not your fault. Accept it. Yes in hindsight you could have made different moves. But you were not wrong for wanting to live your life," she says, taking my hands in hers, "I do not blame you for that. Or the king. You have as much right to happiness as the rest of them."
"Thank you," I whisper.
She hugs me gently, "They can't destroy us."
They are certainly trying.
Edward writes that he doesn't trust Lancaster. I reply that I never trusted Lancaster. That 'trust' and 'Lancaster' don't belong in the same sentence. That it's all right. I'll come in disguise. I'll come in secret. He's not alone. I promise him he's not alone.
It's all I can do. I feel powerless to comfort him, and the world that divides us seems wider and wider.
Winter, and eventually Christmas comes to Ireland. The whole country is wrapped in a blanket of white. I spent Christmas without Edward last year, but we saw each other before and after. It wasn't the same as this.
Apparently the phrase "Please don't send me shit. I know you love me they talk enough I don't need as an example tapestries you don't even have that much money" did get through to Edward. Maybe signing it at the bottom of every letter was a lot but it's true. I'm probably better off financially than he is. He's supporting his own households, and Isabella's household. I'm mostly consolidated with everyone here in Carrikfergus, and my lordship actually going quite well.
I find the Irish nobles agreeable, and they find me eager enough to prove myself that I'll quickly address any complaint they might have. A bridge needs repair so I order work begun on that and look into funding it. I think I'm more charming than I've ever been in my enjoyment of actual good will.
We have a small Christmas feast at the castle. The peace of this island has been infectious, and Maggie is happier than I've ever seen her. She's all smiles at the thought of the holidays. And Alice and Aimee are no less affected. The calm here is good for us. Now we're no longer hated. We are getting something approximating normal life. And we are free. The girls can go down to the village together. They take the baby outside to look at the snow. Our Flower is nearly a year old, and can now take a few steps on her own, to our great delight. To that end I will lift her onto the dog's backs and put a little toy lance in her hand. She thinks it's quite funny, but her favorite is on my shoulders with said toy lance. Alice hasn't even caught me doing that yet.
We eat roast pike, and lamb, and many cheeses. Sheep cheese is better than I anticipated, and served warm, alone or on bread, proves satisfying. There's plenty of wine and ale. Edward prefers ale, and I am accustomed to having it with him even though most nobles prefer wine. I drink and think of him. Of how this should be getting easier but it's not. And of how utterly selfishly I'm glad to be here this year. Seeing my girls happy is a welcome relief after what we've been through.
I dance with Maggie to the minstrels. We all eat until we're sick. In the mornings before the next feast we go out and look at the snow. This involves Alice holding the baby up to look at snowflakes, and the rest of us throwing clumps of it at one another. Maggie is quickly laughing, and the girl proves to have wicked aim. She hits me in the face and I laugh so hard I nearly throw up. Aimee gets her in retaliation, then drops snow down the back of my shirt because she's on no one's side. When we're all soaking wet Maggie makes me carry her inside because her 'precious feet' are cold. I bear the slight girl on my back with ease. And I think about how it should always be like this. Simple. Quiet. Why can't Edward be here? We'd laugh for hours at such antics. He loves just going for walks. The man would probably make me go swimming with him in the sea.
Spring comes, and with it good news. My weekly letters with Edward usually contain little but love declarations and reminders. I give vague updates that we're all well. I know he's not.
His barons meet, they're dissatisfied but not ready to revolt anymore. Despenser and Richmond have moderated as best they can. And better, by April Edward gets word from the pope. I will not be excommunicated. For, existing, or whatever the charges were I don't remember. But the pope agrees it's unlawful. I don't know what Edward told the pope, but it's not as though I've done anything.
"That's good, they didn't need to get into their heads to excommunicate you when they found out you're doing well here," Aimee points out.
"I'm brief even with Edward. If we can remain cautious—," I say.
"We could visit home," Alice says, balancing our daughter in her lap.
"Precisely. I go back for a few months, visit Edward at Langley. He comes here for a holiday. It's not perfect but—if I'm not being excommunicated, and I'm no longer in Parliament then what problem is there?" I ask.
"There's always going to be a problem, that's how they are. I should know it's half my family," Maggie sighs.
"Yes, which is why you should visit. I come back with you we don't have to parade through London. Meet in Wales and go hunting," I say, "It's not perfect and yes I'd sooner remain with Edward but this is realistic."
But Edward was never one to settle for halves. I simply point out in my letters that we can work toward a reunion. Stubborn as the day I met him, he informs me he's bringing me home. To stay. To wait and he'll send word.
With the threat of excommunication gone I am more relaxed. At least should some tragedy strike I can go to Edward's side. That in itself is a gift. I truly want no trouble and I've got a solid position they're not attacking. Well at least not yet. Parliament will open soon.
Parliament opens and we get word through letters that come a week late. Usually Edward, though Richmond will also narrate. Richmond's narration, proves more accurate at times, which makes me begin to fear. Edward has gotten less and less realistic, standing on royal privilege which is beginning to crumble.
Edward says he's negotiating with the barons for my return.
Richmond says that Edward's being charged with eleven different grievances, many of which are loosely based in reality such as losing Scotland (we didn't really have Scotland), as well as writs and petitions (I don't clearly know what that means). And he says that Edward is (likely pretending) to consider and go over them if the barons agree to revoke my exile and let me come home.
"You don't need to go home permanently," Aimee says, as I let her read it.
"I know. But he needs me home. That's obvious," I say.
"But you being back doesn't do either of you any good," Alice says.
"I know," I sigh. We're caught between and advancing army and an unforgiving ocean. Either way we're going to lose. Just how quickly? I know the answer. I'll drown with Edward. I will any day.
Spring turns to summer. We've been in Ireland nearly a year. My daughter can now walk and talk in happy baby babble, not real words but who am I judge? Maggie goes barefoot half the time and I think has named all the sheep. We are settled in, and remarkably comfortable. The nobles in Ireland remain healthily fond of us. A couple times we're invited to dinner, I think they weren't aware which one was my wife, but I and the thirteen year old have a good time.
Mid June Edward reads aloud to Parliament the letter from the Pope saying I can't be excommunicated for, being alive, or whatever their charge was. He insists I come back. Later I'll learn they refused. So Edward simply recalls me. He is king. And he lifts my exile.
"We're going home," I say, looking at the letter, my heart nearly sinking, "He's recalling me."
"We can't," Alice says, softly.
"He's my king. And I was never going to leave him," I say, shaking my head, "I'd say none of you have to come but the subtext is this is I'm no longer Lord of Ireland. So we don't live here anymore."
"Have the earls agreed?" Maggie asks.
"No," I shake my head, "He's lifting it. As king. And recalling us."
"I assume you mean you he doesn't mention us," Aimee says.
"You would be right," I say. I'm not at all fond of Edward's tone. Suicidally stubborn, and arrogant as ever. I'm nearly angry that he knows damn well I'm come running. But that is overrides by practicality. I know for a fact he needs me. So I'm going to him. Just like I always will.
And just like that. My second exile is lifted.