Queen Hereafter Read Online Free Page A

mother would offer some real comfort to her family. Cristina, cut of similar cloth, was keen to point out their difficulties rather than be strong against them—and though Margaret doubted her own mettle, she would not bemoan her fate. Somehow she would persevere, emulating the example of saints and martyrs who had endured far worse.
    A gust of wind slapped open the leather curtain that provided shelter for the women aboard the longship. Rain and seawater drenched Margaret’s blue gown, red cloak, and red leather shoes, and she wrung out the hems of the ruined silk. After Romsey, she had been thankful to exchange her plain garments for fine ones, though she knew that her love of bright colors and beautiful fabrics was a sinful vanity, a serious flaw in her character. Now she vowed to improveher lesser qualities if only she and the others could survive this awful voyage safely.
    Another heavy tilt of the ship prompted Lady Agatha to pray loudly as she rotated her ebony beads and recited in Latin. Cristina told their mother to hush, bluntly, and was slapped for it.
    “I have prayed a year’s worth of penances today,” Cristina said. “Now I pray we reach Scotland soon so we can get another ship to Denmark and go home to Hungary.”
    “No one should be on the North Sea this time of year, with the winter storms upon us,” Hildy said. “We should have stayed in England.”
    “But Edgar said William’s troops would hunt us there,” Lady Agatha said.
    “He and his Saxon lords have betrayed William with their rebellion, and we are all declared outlaws. We have lost everything,” Cristina added bitterly. “Margaret and I are princesses without land and few goods, and little marriage value. What will become of us?”
    “We have our royal heritage,” Margaret said. “The rest can be regained.”
    “At least the Scottish king offered assistance,” Lady Agatha said. “Perhaps he will give us some of his goods, in addition to what we were able to bring with us.”
    “He is a pauper, Mama, so they say. All Scots are savages,” Cristina replied. “And Edgar does what the Saxon lords want, so he will strike any bargain with Malcolm. What of us?”
    “Edgar will be a fine king,” Lady Agatha said blithely, as if she had not even heard. “He reminds me of your father.”
    Margaret sighed. Her mother was so idealistic where her son was concerned. But the sudden reminder of her father brought her such a heart-tug of guilt and remorse that she could not speak. If only Papa had lived—if only she had not given him the sweetmeats that night …
    Feeling sick, she jumped up as the ship tilted again and cold seawater sloshed over her feet. She felt like Jonah inside the whale,which must have been a putrid place indeed. She had to get away. “I need some air,” she said. “I will go ask how we are faring.”
    The ship lurched and she grabbed the curtain while her mother and sister groaned in unison and Kata clung to Hildy. But Margaret was determined to get outside. She, too, felt ill, but she tended to a finicky stomach on the best of days and had fasted to lessen her illness aboard ship. Now, dizzy but well enough, she peered through a gap in the curtain and saw men shouting, rushing about or sitting huddled against the wind and rain, while the captain called to the oarsmen to pull harder, landward.
    Land? Beyond the tilting rim of the ship, the gray sea slid beneath heavy clouds, but Margaret could see the faint rim of a shoreline and hills. Had her prayers indeed been granted? She had fingered the strand of prayer beads looped over her belt, counting endless Pater Nosters and Ave Marias upon the small semiprecious stones knotted in tens on silken thread.
    Truth be told, her prayers had been fervent despite the weather, for she loathed sea voyaging in any conditions, after the long, exhausting sea journeys in her childhood. Though she had learned to mask her fears with calm, she could not wait to attain land.
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