Rose of Hope (19 page)

As the man explained how they were set upon, Fallard listened with one ear while he watched to see his orders were carried out. Lads from the stable took charge of the horses while serving boys unloaded baggage. The wounded men were aided into the hall. Luilda hurried through the tunnel as fast as her legs would carry her and disappeared into the hall behind them. Domnall and Trifine greeted the other two lords, while Jehan and Second Marshal Harold took charge of their men.

Fallard escorted Thegn Noll and his lady to the hall, followed more slowly by the others. “How many were in the attacking party?”

“At least five and twenty, more than our number.”

“So many! What sense gained you of their purpose, were they thieves?”

“Nay, my lord, I believe it not, though ’tis my thought they would have us believe so. Their clothing was ragged, as would be that of thieves, but they fought like warriors. Our men were hard pressed to gain the advantage. As you have seen, one of D’Orsay’s knights was slain.”

They passed into the hall. To the left in the corner, the three wounded men were already laid out on pallets. Luilda directed helpers in treating the two less injured, even as she worked diligently and with rapid assurance over a third.

Fallard led Thegn Noll and his wife to the eating platform, where jugs of mead and ale and flagons of hot mulled wine were already set out on the table, as were trenchers and goblets in preparation for the coming meal.

“Be seated, and warm yourselves,” Fallard said, motioning the servants to attend them. He strode to the wounded men. With practiced eye, he noted the two less seriously hurt would recover if the wounds festered not. But the third was a belly wound, of all wounds among the most dreaded, for if the bowels were nicked or cut, the whole body would go putrid, followed by slow, painful death.

D’Orsay and Royse, to whom the wounded men were sworn, joined him.

“My lord D’Auvrecher,” Royse said.

D’Orsay nodded to Fallard.

Fallard acknowledged their greeting, noting the same wariness in their eyes as had shone in the eyes of Noll. He wondered at the reason, if ’twas simply because he was their new overlord—and to Noll and Royse, a Norman, and therefore an unknown quality—or if somewhat else lay behind it.

Royse spoke again, addressing Luilda, and referring to the man with the stomach wound. “Will he live?”

“I believe so, my lord. It appears not his bowels were cut, and the wound is not so deep as it appears. I have cleansed it, and will stitch it closed and apply a healing poultice. Then we must wait.”

“’Tis good,” Royse said. “He is a fine man and a capable warrior.”

“We shall leave her to work.” Fallard issued the subtle command, gesturing the men toward the eating platform.

The ladies were seated, Ysane, Roana and Lewena in earnest conversation with the wives. Domnall, Trifine and Randel accompanied Noll. The young sons of D’Orsay and Royse stood with them.

As Fallard approached, Trifine caught his eye, his head giving an almost imperceptible nod in the direction of the doors. As his First excused himself and headed that way, Fallard lifted his hand. “I am certain you are all weary from the battle, and a chance to bathe and rest would come not amiss.” He gestured to Ethelmar. “If ’tis your choice, my under-steward will see you to your bowers. All that you may need will be provided. If you prefer not to attend the noontide meal, ’twill be brought to you.”

“Our thanks, my lord. Your generosity is appreciated.” Noll spoke for them all. As the three families moved toward the anteroom that led to the guest bowers, Fallard sought out Ysane.

“The wounded men?” Her brow was furrowed with concern.

“Luilda believes they will live.”

“Ah, our Lord is merciful! ’Tis bad enough one has died, but Fallard, this should not have happened. What new trouble is this?”

“I know not, but Trifine has news and wishes to speak with me. If you will excuse me, my lady?”

Trifine waited for him on the wall, away from the guards. Whatever his First had to say, he wanted it not overheard.

“Fallard,” Trifine said without preamble, “Lord D’Orsay spoke of aught he thought most strange. He said beneath their rags, many among those who attacked them wore tunics bearing King William’s crest. Thegns Noll and Royse agreed, for they and their men glimpsed the same, but said ’twas if the attackers
wished
them to see, all the while pretending to be thieves. They said not so outright, but ’tis clear they believe the men were soldiers, king’s men in disguise. They are angry. Methinks they suspect betrayal, though how that could be with D’Orsay among them, I know not.”

“That explains the hostility,” Fallard said.

“So ’twould seem.”

“Pass the word, then, and double the guard. Order the men to especial watchfulness, and to pay close attention to aught the stewards’ men have to say. I want possible trouble nipped ere it can take form. I will speak more on this to the lords.”

He turned to leave but Trifine stopped him. “Tell we also Domnall’s men?”

He held Fallard’s gaze.

Understanding passed between them, even as Fallard nodded. “If they may be trusted not, now is the time to learn it, when we are prepared to deal with it.” He paused, and then continued, his tone thoughtful. “Strike you not as odd, my friend, if the attackers were truly William’s men, and meant not for that fact to be known, that so many would be so careless as to allow the crest to be seen?”

“Think you, then, as do the stewards, the revealing of the crest was deliberate?”

“I do.”

“Then you also think the men were Saxon rebels, seeking to stir up further trouble.”

“Trouble for me, in particular, but what concerns me most is where rebels in this area would lay hands on tunics worn by William’s soldiers. ’Tis not as though our troops are plenteous in this out of the way region.”

Trifine sucked in a quick breath. “Ruald! You think he has escaped and seeks to use your stewards to dislodge your hold on Wulfsinraed. But Fallard, how? Sir Gyffard’s troop was more than three score and ten. There is no party of rebels in this region with enough trained men to attack so large a company.”

“So it has been thought, but what other explanation may there be? I know William. He acts not with devious and dishonorable methods. Even when his orders are brutal, he fights honestly and in the open. If he wanted the stewards of Wulfsinraed dead, he would simply send troops to all of their halls and take them by force. He would also have no reason to attack a Norman steward, unless that man be suspected of treason, and D’Orsay is known in court as loyal beyond question.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Would that I could have traveled with Sir Gyffard, mayhap this could have been avoided. I warned him of the possibility, but he believed as you, that no trouble would be offered to so large a company.”

He stood silent for a time, head down as his gaze focused on naught but what he saw within his own mind, then he peered at his First, a faint scowl pulling at his brows. “So be it. We will deal with what comes. Trifine, I suspect a large force of Saxons, led by their leader Ruald, may now be on its way to recapture Wulfsinraed. If I am right, the lives of the other stewards may be in danger, and utter fool that I am, I ordered them to bring their families. We must provide protection. Find Domnall, Jehan and Harold. Bring them at once to the hall. I will lay this before D’Orsay, Noll and Royse. I will need their help in riding escort to the others, and for that, I must gain their trust.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Three hours later, Fallard stood on the eating platform with Trifine, Jehan, Domnall, Harold and the stewards ranged about him. The remnants of the midday repast had been cleared from the table, which was now littered with half empty goblets of ale and maps of the region. Fallard’s gaze traveled around the group, meeting the eyes of each of the stewards. They had already sworn fealty. He awaited their observations.

D’Orsay leaned over a map, both palms flat on the table. He spoke without looking up. “Your arguments are most persuasive, Lord D’Auvrecher. Unless evidence to the contrary emerges, I accept your explanation for the attack.” He straightened and met Fallard’s gaze. “As for ordering the attendance of our families, these are difficult times and any journey bears its hazards. For what value it may offer here, I would have ordered the same.”

“As would I,” said Noll. “And none among us trusted Renouf, or his brother. The man possessed a quality of guileful self-interest. ’Tis my belief he would do aught, betray aught if he believed it to his advantage. I also acknowledge Sir Ruald would make such an attempt as you have laid out, were he in a position to do so.”

Royse agreed. “When shall we begin these forays to protect the parties of stewards still due to arrive?”

Fallard nodded in the direction of Trifine. “As soon as my First is able to organize the patrols. We will need five companies. Thegn Royse, you and Lord D’Orsay, along with Trifine and Domnall, will each lead a patrol. Domnall’s knowledge of the area and the roads each party must take in their journey is extensive. You will coordinate with him the direction your companies will take. Because more stewards come from the west, I will lead a second patrol to meet any parties arriving from that direction.

“I will set trackers to locate Sir Ruald, if indeed, he has escaped and comes this way. Do we find their force is smaller than we believe, a company will be sent to waylay them before they reach Wulfsinraed. Otherwise, we will prepare to meet them here.

“Thegn Noll, with Jehan and Harold will be responsible for the defense of the burh and the hall. The number of men needed for the patrols will leave the burh but lightly defended, so until all parties have safely arrived, or the attacking force is found and destroyed, the gates will be opened only for a short period, thrice daily, and only for the burhfolc and stewards. Every face is to be scanned, every wagon, barrel and crate searched, going in or out. No person not belonging to this demesne is to be allowed within the gates without permission from Noll, Jehan or Harold, and they are to be searched, as well.”

Trifine spoke up. “What of the village and outlying farms, Captain? Think you they will be in harm’s way?”

“Ruald is cunning. ’Tis my thought he will see no value in putting to sword those who would serve him, and who offer no threat should he gain his desire to retake the burh. But ’tis better to be prudent. Harold, pass the word that any man wishing to bring his family to reside within the safety of the wall is welcome. The burh may become overly crowded, but I will deny no man the right to protection. Order each one to bring only whatever supplies and shelter he and his family need, including food, warm clothing and shelter.”

The meeting broke up and the men dispersed to their tasks. Fallard sought out Ysane. He found her, with the other ladies, working on needlework in her sitting room. Beckoning to her, he led her down one level to the lord’s bower, but failed to close the door behind them.

He took her face in his hands, glad she made no effort to withdraw. He said no word, but drank in the sweetness of her face. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with regret. “I must take my leave of you now, my lady. I rue this time that should be given to merrymaking must be disrupted by strife.”

“’Tis no fault of your own, my lord. You must do what must be done, and such things wait not for a more convenient time.”

He pulled her close. “Have I told you, little rose, how very beautiful you are, and how fortunate I hold myself that you, with your eyes like rain-washed lily pads and your lips as lovely as a new-budded flower, belong to me?”

Amazed at his own speech, for he was not given to poetry, and had been accused by the women of his acquaintance of utilizing a nigh criminal paucity of words, he nevertheless forged on. His voice deepened to a husky whisper. “My dreams brim with visions of your soft form clasped tight in my arms, and my waking hours are captured by the memory of the feel of your lips beneath mine. Never for a moment do I cease longing for the night we can be alone, as wedded. Tell me, my rose, dread you still that time? Do you, in truth, hope for my death in battle? If you could by some chance be free of me forever, would you make that choice?”

She stood as if mesmerized beneath the sweet spell of his words.

He held her gaze, waiting.

***

Ysane kept him not long in suspense, for she grew more certain each hour that she feared not to become his wife.

As yet, she knew not her heart’s full inclination. Nor did she know how she might fare in his bed, though it seemed her body would welcome him despite the horrors dealt by Renouf. Of desire, she had no experience, while trust, a thing both fragile and tenuous, could be offered, but not coerced. Once broken, ’twas difficult to mend. Renouf had taught her some men were beasts, but those of her family had tutored her in love. Thus, she pondered still if this man stood worthy of her increasing faith in him. She marveled that her fear and loathing of a man’s touch grew so quickly dim and distant when in his embrace.

She could not give him all that she saw in his eyes he wanted, and knew not if ever she would. So she gave him what she could. “You have shown me, my lord, a man might be strong as Hercules, and powerful as the great Charlemagne, yet still be gentle as a lamb. I have seen you offer mercy to those who deserved death, and kindness to those to whom you owed no debt. You have given to me courtesy, and have treated me with honor, wooing me with gentle persuasion, when you might have taken me with cruel force, and emptied your mind of concern for me afterwards. None could have stopped you had you done so. Renouf protected none but himself, yet even now, you ride in honor to defend with your life the people you have sworn to protect.”

She clasped her hands at his nape, and rested her head against his broad chest. “Nay, my lord, I wish not for your death. I wish that you travel with Godspeed, and beneath His protection, for I would have you return, whole and unharmed. We have a wedding to attend, and vows to speak, and I…,” and here she faltered as a flaming blush once again fired her face. “I dread not our wedding night, my lord.”