The Lady of Kingdoms by Suzannah Rowntree

Author:Suzannah Rowntree [Rowntree, Suzannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bocfodder Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter XXIII.

When Sibylla had informed Guy of her brother’s decision, he had been nothing daunted.

The little birds that can sing and won’t sing, must be made to sing.

That had been his advice to her.

Sibylla had agreed, but before she could think how to make the little birds sing, she had suffered one of her periodic collapses. It was worse than ever this time, confining her to bed for several days in constant, unremitting pain, with only laudanum and hemlock wine for relief. The drug took away the pain, but left bad dreams in its place.

On the fourth day the pain eased, and Sibylla had herself carried to visit her mother. Normally the image of health, Countess Agnes had been ill too lately, with a persistent cough and an overabundance of bloody phlegm, and was still abed in her own solar. As Sibylla’s servants carried her in and set her chair down, she was shocked to see how thin her mother looked.

“Sibylla!” The countess struggled to sit up in bed. “What’s happened, girl?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Sibylla returned. For a moment they only stared at each other, and then Agnes’ face split in a reluctant grin. She laughed, but the convulsions racked her body and turned, at last, to more coughing.

“Look at us, lying in ruins,” she whispered at last. Yet for all her laughter, her eyes were dark with understanding when she looked at Sibylla. “The baby?”

“Gone,” she said flatly. “I lost it two days ago.”

“Not this one, too.” Agnes lay still, the black laughter drained out of her. “At least you have young Baldwin. And little Alice.”

Sibylla didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her; she felt sorry enough for herself. How could she build a dynasty when so many of her children died? Young Baldwin was hardly strong, either.

Was she truly cursed? If a demon was troubling her, the servants’ evil-eye charm had done nothing to help.

Refusing to let the grief swallow her, Sibylla pushed herself into anger. “I’ll have another son if I must lie abed for twenty years.”

“There must be some reason behind it.” Agnes plucked fretfully at her silk coverlet. “It isn’t natural for a woman to lose so many children. Promise me you’ll see someone for it.”

Sibylla smiled bitterly. “Who, mother? An apothecary, a priest, or a fortune-teller?”

“Anyone who will help.”

“When you get well, you must find someone for me, then. Did you hear that Baldwin plans to remove Guy as bailli? We have until the next meeting of the High Court—”

“I’m not quite dead, Sibylla. Of course I heard.” Agnes linked her hands on the coverlet. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Sibylla shook her head. “I’ve been sick and miscarrying at home, or I’d have done something already!” She rubbed her temples. “With Guy removed from the regency in disgrace, we’ll be at a terrible disadvantage in claiming the kingdom later. What if Prince Reynald tries to put Isabella and Humphrey on the throne?

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