The Red Wolf's Prize (16 page)

As the moonlight fell across the face of the saturnine
knight with the dark hair and beard, she stepped back, exclaiming in a harsh
whisper, “Sir Hugue!”

“Aye, Aethel. ’Tis I.”

“What are
ye
doing here? I was expecting a man from
Mercia!” Now she was worried. Why would the mercenary sent away in disgrace
return on this night?

“I have been sent by Earl Morcar. I do his bidding now,” he
said shortly. “Is all ready?”

Aethel had never trusted the mercenary who had tried to rape
Eawyn. Yet there was little she could do at this point if Morcar had dispatched
him to fetch Serena. “Yea, all is ready. But first I must have yer word that ye
will not harm my lady.”

“Do you think me a fool, woman? Earl Morcar would not pay me
the coin he has promised if I harmed his lady. Nay, I will touch her only to
carry her to him.”

“Then ye may take her,” she said, still feeling some
trepidation. “But ye must be careful to follow me and do all I say. Should he
awake, Sir Maurin would not be pleased to see ye here at Talisand. Sir Niel
guards the lady’s door but he is sleeping from a potion just like this guard.”
She looked down at the snoring man at her feet. “But others in the hall and in
yonder tents have not received the drink and will hear us if we are not
careful.”

Avoiding the hall, they entered the front door of the manor
and crept up the stairs illuminated by the single light left burning. Sir Niel
was sprawled against the wall next to Serena’s chamber where she slept unaware
of what was happening around her. As they were about to enter her chamber, a
man stumbled from the hall to the manor’s entry below. Sir Hugue flattened
himself against the wall, pulling his dagger from his belt and held it aloft,
ready to strike.

Aethel drew in her breath as her heart raced. Shaking her
head at the mercenary, she frowned, silently cautioning him. Sir Hugue sheathed
his dagger but kept his eyes on the man in the entry whose unsure steps told
Aethel he had indulged in too much ale. Weaving his way to the door, he
stumbled from the manor, no doubt heading toward the privy.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aethel gestured to the mercenary
to follow her as she carefully opened Serena’s door and entered. She walked to
the bed and held aside the curtain, as Sir Hugue peeled back the cover,
revealing Serena asleep in her night tunic.

“So this is the Lady Serena,” he whispered. “She is a comely
woman and looks a mite familiar.”

“She was disguised as the servant Sarah.”

“Aye, now I remember. The wench who shot an arrow into my
arm.”

“She is no wench, sir. She is the Lady of Talisand. Ye’d
best be respecting her.”

“Aye, my new lord requires it.” His smile made Aethel
cringe. “’Twill be good to see the Red Wolf lose this prize.”

“Be quick or we will be discovered!” She had no time for
this and did not like the way the knight’s eyes roved over the sleeping woman.
Aethel had a pang of regret and wondered if she should be doing this.

Turning his attention to his task, Sir Hugue lifted Serena,
and carried her toward the open bedchamber door.

At the bottom of the stairs Aethel paused, waiting for any
sounds that would tell her if someone might still be awake. Hearing nothing,
she retrieved the small bundle of clothing she had prepared for Serena, hidden
at the base of the stairs. Walking in front of Sir Hugue, she opened the manor
door and stepped into the night. The Norman followed with Serena in his arms.
Aethel closed the door and carefully draped her lady’s cloak over her.

A sheep dog barked in the distance and once again Aethel
froze, listening. The man who had stumbled out of the manor moments before now
ambled his way back. Aethel, followed by Sir Hugue, pressed into the shadows.

The drunken man noticed nothing.

They waited for him to enter the manor, and once he did,
Aethel motioned the mercenary forward. She saw the guard at the main gate but
knew he could not see into the shadows, and his eyes looked outward not behind
him.

Finally, they reached the postern gate, where the guard
still snored. Aethel began to worry if Sir Hugue could carry Serena on the long
ride ahead. In a whispered voice, she asked him, “Are ye alone?”

“Nay, Morcar sent two of his men with me. They wait in yon
woods.”

“Then I will see ye to them. I want Lady Serena to have this
bundle when she awakes.”

Aethel followed him into the woods at the edge of the
village. Two cloaked men stood, holding the reins of three horses. Their light
colored beards and long hair told Aethel the men were Mercians and that brought
her comfort. Without a word, she handed the bundle to one of them. Turning to
Sir Hugue, she asked in a whisper, “How long will it take ye to reach Morcar?”

“A bit more than a day if we ride hard.”

Aethel bit her lower lip, worried. Serena would wake before
then. “Ye must give her more potion when she begins to stir.” Prepared against
such a possibility, Aethel reached into her cloak and drew out a small skin
containing ale mixed with more potion, and another skin that contained
vegetable broth. “Give her this.” She handed the skin with the potion to one of
the waiting Mercians. “And then give her this broth if she can be made to take
it,” she said, handing him the other skin. “It is a broth to give her
sustenance while ye travel. When she awakes in Mercia, she will remember
nothing.”

Serena woke to a pounding in her head and a gnawing hunger in
her belly. The dim morning light pierced the narrow opening in the bed
curtains. Still groggy, she could barely discern with her half opened eyes what
seemed strange about her surroundings. After a moment, she sat up and pulled
wide the curtains, startled to realize she was not in her bedchamber, nor in
her bed. She had never before seen this room with its stone walls, arched
window and high timbered roof.

Where am I, and how did I get here?

Moments later, a knock sounded at the wooden door. Before
she could say aught, it opened to reveal an older woman with graying brown hair
wearing a servant’s tunic. The woman entered carrying clothing Serena recognized
as hers.

“My lady, ’tis time ye were up. Earl Morcar has been asking
for ye.”

Relief swept over Serena. Not a Norman then. She dropped her
feet over the side of the bed. “Earl Morcar?”

“Yea, my lady, ye were brought here last night.”

“Where is ‘here’ good woman?” Rubbing her temples helped the
pounding in her head to subside. Why would Morcar take her from Talisand and
without telling her beforehand?

“Oh, do ye not know? Why, ye are at Adlington, my lady, Earl
Edwin’s manor in Mercia.”

“M…Mercia?” Serena stammered. She had been abducted from her
bed and taken south to Mercia? “Why was I brought here?”

“For that ye’ll have to ask the earl, my lady. I know only
what I’ve been told. My master, Earl Edwin and his brother Morcar await ye
below.”

Edwin? Morcar?
They abducted her?

Serena rose, vaguely aware she was still wearing the garment
she had worn to bed. Was it only the night before? She walked to the side table
feeling the chill on her feet from the stone floor. The woman had set out a
bowl of water and a drying cloth. As she stood before the bowl, a swirling mist
filled her mind like a remnant of a bad dream and her temples ached. Why was
she so addled? Had they given her a sleeping potion? She tried not to think who
might have seen her in her nightclothes.

Splashing water onto her face, she began to feel more
herself. She patted her skin dry. The servant replaited her hair. Without a
word, the woman efficiently helped her into the pale green undertunic and leaf
green gown. The belt at her waist was a simple one of leather woven through a
chain. Whoever had arranged this had even remembered her hose and leather
shoes, which she was happy to have.

Through the shutters of the window, which the servant had
opened, Serena looked out onto rolling hills, green with the rains of summer,
stretching far into the distance. Grazing sheep dotted one slope. It was not so
different from Talisand. But the why of it was confusing. What did the brother
earls intend?

When she was ready, she followed the servant from the room.
The old woman gestured to the stairs and then left her. Slowly Serena
descended, pausing when she heard men’s voices coming from a room off the main
entry.

“You may go, Sir Hugue. I will advise you when your talents
are needed again.”

Sir Hugue?
She recognized Morcar’s voice as the one
speaking, but why would the Norman mercenary be here? Had he been the one who’d
abducted her from the manor? A myriad of questions arose in her mind as the
Norman knight strode through the entry never seeing her standing on the stairs
above him.

Another voice from beyond the doorway said, “At least you
should ask Serena if she would have you, Morcar. She is a lady after all, not
some wench you can grab in the night and do with as you please.”

“I am fully aware of Lady Serena’s status, brother. But why
should I seek her approval? Have I not spared her a Norman’s bed? Nay, I will
not ask. I have brought Lady Serena here to wed, and I shall. You know as well
as I that before he died her father had warmed to my suit. I have no doubt he
would prefer a Mercian earl to one of William’s knights were he here to consult
with. What I plan for Serena is obviously the right path. She will be willing,
I’ve no doubt.”

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Serena took a step
forward, bringing herself into view. Morcar raised his head from where he sat
at the table across from his brother. Both men stood.

“My lady,” said Morcar. From his expression, Serena judged
him delighted. “How good it is to see you and looking so well! You have grown
more beautiful than I remember, and I remember quite well how very fair is the
Lady of Talisand.”

Flattery had never meant so much to Serena as sincere
affection. She did not even blush, knowing Morcar’s words were calculated to
appease her.

The two Mercian men, each with shoulder length blond hair
and beards, one an older version of the other, gave her a studied look as she
walked toward the table set with an array of food. In the center was a bowl of
fruit, reminding her of her hunger.

“Why am I here?” she said impatiently. “You did not extend a
proper invitation nor allow me to travel as I might, but dragged me from my bed
in the night. Judging from how little I was aware and my aching head, I’d say I
was given a potion.”

Finding his voice, Morcar offered, “Soon, I will explain.
But first, allow my brother Edwin to welcome you to his home.”

Serena had met both Morcar and Edwin on their visit to
Talisand when Morcar was still the Earl of Northumbria and recalled the older
brother as possessing a gracious nature, more mellow than his younger sibling.

Edwin bowed before her. “My lady, ’tis an honor.”

“My lord,” she said with a faint smile, not extending her
hand, “except for the manner of my coming, I would have been happy to see you.
But I cannot act as if this is merely a pleasant visit. I was abducted from my
bedchamber! I must know why.” Having heard their conversation, she had a fair
understanding, but she asked to see if they would tell her a different tale.

“First, I would offer you a morning meal.” Morcar gestured
toward the table heavy with trenchers of food. “I imagine you are quite hungry.
And is it not a better way to begin our discussion?”

Reluctantly, she took the seat Morcar offered her. Though
she was anxious to know of their plans, she had to admit she was famished.
Taking some fruit and bread onto her trencher, she smiled inwardly at the irony
of it. All the times she had wanted to escape the Red Wolf, yet when she had
finally come to think that her duty, if not her heart, required her to remain at
his side, here was escape set before her as if served up on a platter.

In addition to the fruit, the table was laden with cooked
pork, eggs, and bread and butter. A male servant poured mead into goblets and,
raising the drink to her lips, she sniffed the golden liquid to see if she
could detect any unexpected odor. But there was only the sweet scent of honey
and familiar spices.

Seeing her do this, Morcar apologized. “I’m sorry, my lady,
for the potion given you. It was thought best for the secrecy we needed that
you should have no voice to question my men. There was no time for explanations
in our rescue.”

“Rescue? From Talisand? Surely you jest.”

“Nay, my lady, not a rescue from Talisand,” his voice rang
with sincerity, “but from the Norman who now holds it.”

“Ah, I see,” she said considering his words as she toyed
with the food on her trencher. She supposed she did understand. After all, she
had thought to escape the dreaded Normans herself. “But you did not think to
warn me?”

Earl Edwin interjected, “We thought it best if you were
unaware of our plans.”

“And the guard? You did not harm him?” She was concerned for
the faithful Sir Niel, whose lord would not be pleased that she had vanished
beneath the young knight’s watchful eye. If Sir Hugue was involved, after the
punishment he had received, he might have been cruel to the Red Wolf’s men.

“No one was hurt, my lady,” said Edwin. “More than one guard
received the same herbs as you in his ale. And, just as you did, all will
recover.”

Serena’s memory of Aethel serving her ale in the hall came
to her mind. Was Aethel trying to rid herself of a rival? Did the herb woman
think to take her place in the Red Wolf’s bed if Serena were to wed another?

“I can explain,” said Morcar.

She waited while he took a drink of his mead and set down
the silver goblet fingering the carved design as if contemplating carefully his
next words.

“You see, word came to me William was going to give you to
one of his Norman knights. I was certain you would want to avoid such a
marriage. I had asked for your hand when your father, the thegn, still lived.
He was favorable in his comments to me. If not for Hastings, we might be wed
ere now. I have sent a message to your brother in Scotland, but as yet have
heard nothing. It seemed only right we should carry out what would certainly be
your father’s wishes.”

Serena watched the emotions playing across the face of the
handsome Mercian who, according to all she had heard, was well liked by the
people of Northumbria. Morcar was Steinar’s age, only a few years older than
she. And while Serena would not have objected had her father betrothed her to
him, she was unsure if her father would have done so. Though Morcar likely did
express what would have been Steinar’s wishes had he known of the matter. Offered
the chance, would she wed the Mercian? How could she do so when her heart
longed for the Norman knight whose expression was ever stern but whose kisses
deprived her of breath?

The Red Wolf might be her enemy, but given all she had
observed, he was more a man than Morcar. Older, less compulsive and accustomed
to being responsible for the lives of others, he had won her respect in the
weeks he’d been at Talisand. Then, too, she remembered that Morcar and his
brother, after having been defeated at Fulford by Harald Hardrada of Norway,
failed to appear at Hastings when their help was so badly needed.

If she refused Morcar, she knew there were ways he could
bring the marriage to pass. The priest may be under his control, and there were
potions that could rob her of the will to resist. He had already demonstrated
he would use them to aid his cause.

“What about the Norman king?” she asked. “You would defy
him?” Here was the essence of it in Serena’s mind. She herself had once
entertained the possibility of wedding a Saxon, but thought only to do so from
the safety of Scotland. She had not believed it wise to marry in defiance of
the Norman king while she remained in England. The Bastard’s reputation was
that of a hard, ruthless man who showed no mercy to those who defied him.

“I would,” Earl Morcar said proudly.

He does not intend to serve England’s new king!
The
Mercian earl was naïve if he believed he could succeed in robbing a Norman
knight of the bride his king had given him, the king who had conquered England
with his hundreds of ships and his thousands of men. It would take more than
one Mercian earl to return England to the English.

Morcar’s brother moved restlessly in his chair, catching her
eye. She turned to look at him. He averted his gaze, making her think he was
not comfortable with Morcar’s chosen course of action.

“Then you would fight still,” she said.

“Yea, I would,” Morcar admitted, “and there are others who
would fight with me, your brother among them.”

Her gaze darted from one brother to the other, searching
their faces. “You spoke of Steinar before. Have you word of him?”

The two earls shared a glance before Morcar answered. “I
know that he resides with Edgar in Scotland, who even now gathers a force to
return. In regards to you and my intention to wed you, I did send Steinar a
message. I am certain he would wish this between us, my lady, as did your
father. Steinar would never give his sister to a Norman.”

Serena’s appetite waned and she picked at her food as she
again thought of the older brother she loved. Morcar had the right of it.
Steinar would never consent to having the Red Wolf as a brother-in-law. “It has
been a long while since I’ve had any message from him,” she said sadly.

“I need not await his word to summon the priest and see us
wed, Serena. Once ’tis done, we can travel together to join Steinar.”

* * *

Two days after Serena disappeared, Cassie began to suspect
where her lady had gone. Sir Niel had been dispatched to find Serena the
morning after she had disappeared. Sir Maurin believed Serena had arranged to
flee once again, and knowing she had gone north before, it was in that
direction he sent Sir Niel.

But Cassie cast her gaze to the south. She did not think
Serena had escaped. No, her lady had been taken. For Cassie knew once Serena
made up her mind to accept the Norman lord as her husband, she was not likely
to change. Cassie had seen the way Serena had looked at the Red Wolf, her eyes
following the powerful knight as he strode though the yard and lingering on his
broad shoulders in the practice yard. Nay, Serena had been preparing for a
wedding, not a flight into the woods.

When the cloth merchant from Mercia had left Talisand,
Cassie remembered he rode south. But his cart was still full of wares. Why
would he return home so soon? Most merchants would have ridden east to the rich
purses in York before heading south. She had wondered at the time, and now she
again puzzled over his going. The morning after Serena disappeared, her white
mare Elfleda was still in her stall. Serena would not have left behind the
horse her father had given her.

But who would have abducted Lady Serena? Could it be Morcar?
His brother Edwin was Earl of Mercia and she had heard that Morcar, having lost
Northumbria, now dwelled with him. Yea, it was possible he had taken her. And
Cassie was determined to follow.

As a young girl, Cassie had learned to ride when Serena did,
so she could be her lady’s companion. Though she rode infrequently and had no
horse of her own, Cassie decided to take Elfleda and ride south to search for
Serena. She would not tell Sir Maurin, for if her thinking was correct, and
Earl Morcar had Serena, it would bring the Normans to Mercia were they to know.