The Red Wolf's Prize (24 page)

He stared at her for a moment. She hoped he could see the
love in her eyes.

Recognition dawned. “You love me?”

“Yea, I do.” She smiled, thinking of the ring on her finger,
remembering the words inscribed inside. “I suppose I should have mentioned it
afore this.”

“You might have.” He drew her more tightly to his powerful
chest and she crossed her hands at his nape. He gently pressed a kiss to her
lips. “I love you, Serena.”

A feeling of great happiness welled up inside her. She had
never thought to hear those words from the Norman who wed her out of duty to
his king. But she had hoped.

He drew back and put his hand on her still flat belly,
looking amazed. “A son for Talisand,” he said smiling. He kissed her again. “My
wayward English wife,” he said as his lips lifted from hers. “I should be
scolding you, but I would rather carry you to yon meadow and make love to you.
But the babe….”

She smiled, feeling his rising passion pressing into her
belly. “I am certain the babe is not so large we must worry about your
lovemaking. And, I think we can find a better place than a meadow, my lord. I
trust not your knights to leave us be.”

Several days later, Renaud led his entourage through the
gates of Talisand, as he shouted orders for help with the litters. Their slower
pace had lengthened the trip, but it was necessary for the sake of the wounded
and his determination to assure his unborn child was not jostled overmuch.

From where he dismounted, Renaud saw Sir Geoffroi near the
back of the column helping Serena down from her white palfrey. She had insisted
on riding next to her brother’s litter, though Steinar slept most of the time,
as did Sir Maurin.

Waiting in front of the manor with anxious faces were
Maggie, her daughter Cassie, the dark-haired Aethel and Sir Niel. Renaud handed
Belasco’s reins to Eric, then turned to the small group.

“We have wounded, but no deaths,” he said, answering their
unspoken question. “Sir Maurin and Serena’s brother, Steinar, are carried upon
litters.” Gasps sounded from Cassie and her mother as they covered their
mouths.

“Sir Alain?” Aethel asked her brows drawn together.

“The bear has a new scar not unlike Sir Niel’s,” he said
glancing at the young knight, “but otherwise he is well. Look for him near the
rear of the column; he guards Sir Maurin.”

The dark-haired Aethel and the redheaded Cassie took off
running.

“How bad is Steinar, my lord?” asked Maggie. “I raised him
as if he were me own son.”

“He took a sword in the leg. The wound is serious. It will
be some time before we know whether he or Sir Maurin will heal. At least they
are home now.”

“Aye, my lord. They be home.” He knew the woman’s words were
spoken in recognition that Talisand was home to both Norman and English and he
was grateful. Briefly, he watched as she walked in the direction that her
daughter had run, leaving him alone with Sir Niel.

“All is well at Talisand?” he asked the young knight.

“Aye, my lord. Hunstan saw to the manor and lands and
Theodric and I managed the remaining work at the castle and the men-at-arms you
left as guard. We’ve food ready should you want a meal and beds for the
wounded.”

Renaud shed his gloves and waited for Serena who was coming
toward him with two men carrying Steinar’s litter. Behind them Sir Alain and
Leppe carried Sir Maurin’s stretcher. Cassie held the sleeping knight’s hand
and Aethel followed her.

Much had changed since he’d come to Talisand. In their grief
for the wounded, they were forging a new people, neither Norman nor English,
but with the strength of both.

* * *

“The king comes!” shouted the watchman from the top of the
keep, telling Serena that William had returned to Talisand. Renaud had given
her warning, but still her nerves were on end and her stomach was unsettled as
her mind rebelled. The king would once again sleep under her roof. They had
only been back for a sennight and now they must again entertain him! For
Renaud’s sake, she would try to be gracious.

From the top of the motte, she watched the line of Norman
knights and retainers in their bright colored livery and waving banners flow
through the gates to fill the bailey.

“It would be best if we greeted him below, Serena,” said
Renaud as he took her elbow. They descended the steps together and crossed the
bridge.

“I like it not, husband. Steinar is only now able to smile.
Can you imagine what he will say when I tell him the Norman who calls himself
king is sheltered in his home?”

“’Tis
our
home, Serena. And I worry more about what
William would say were he to know I harbor one of the York rebels.”

“Then do not tell him. Surely he will not tarry long.”

By the time the king approached the bridge leading over the
moat, Serena and Renaud were waiting for him.

“Sire,” Renaud bowed before the king, “welcome back to
Talisand.”

William, wearing mail and a scarlet cloak fastened with a
gold brooch, dismounted with ease, his blue eyes shining. Was it with pride at
his recent victory over her countrymen?

She had to admit he was a vigorous man. He had the look
about him of one whose orders were never questioned, a man who did not just
come to rule England, as others had, but to change it forever.

“We have wine to refresh you, Sire,” Renaud said, “and
tonight the meal you will be served in the castle’s hall will provide the best
of Talisand’s food.”

The king’s gaze bore into her eyes. She raised her chin,
determined not to cower before the Bastard who had claimed England.

“We look forward to enjoying your hospitality, my lord,”
said the king. “And that of your lady.” He looked at her. “We still remember
your lovely voice, my lady, on the occasion of our last visit.”

Serena dipped a modest curtsey to the king but resented that
she had been required to sing for him. Would she again?

* * *

Renaud knew none of his English villeins were happy about
William’s return, and certainly not his English wife. But he could not very
well deny his sire the tribute that must be paid to one’s king.

Glancing to his right where Serena sat with him at the high
table, he was pleased she had accepted her role as chatelaine, assuring the
dinner set before the king was a rich bounty of Maggie’s best dishes. He would
have to bestow a special gift on the cook for all her labors.

Of the king’s trusted men,
Turstin FitzRolf
,
who had fought with them at Hastings, had joined the king on the dais. Renaud
sat on the king’s right with Serena and Maugris. Sir Geoffroi and Eawyn sat on
the other side of FitzRolf. Since Renaud knew William enjoyed Maugris’ musings,
he made certain the wise one was present. Sir Maurin, who might otherwise have been
included, was still abed recovering.

The meal began with a broth of carrot and ginger accompanied
by rich brown bread, butter and honey. Wooden platters laden with roast lamb
spiced with cumin and mint, and fish baked with coriander and bay leaf, soon followed.
The spices, Serena had told him, were ones her father brought to the manor.
Venison was served, as well, bathed in a dark sauce that rendered the deer meat
succulent. Peas boiled in water and wine, sweet to the taste, joined the other
dishes. Renaud knew William was pleased for he loved to eat as much as Sir
Geoffroi.

“’Tis a welcome feast you have set before us,” said the
king. “We thank you, Lord Talisand, for our travels here did not see such grand
fare.”

“We could do no less for you, Sire.”

As the meal wore on, Renaud noticed the king studying
Serena. Leaning across Renaud, he asked her, “Have you heard, my lady, of our
great victory in York?”

“Aye, I have heard.” Serena said in a flat voice.

The king obviously had something in mind as he rubbed the
fingers of one hand over his chin and his blue eyes narrowed on Serena. His
brown hair, golden in places from the sun, showed beneath his crown making him
look regal, every bit the king he had become.

William’s eyes shifted to Renaud. “We have heard tale of a
woman felling one of our Norman knights at York with an arrow. What say you to
that strange story, lord wolf?”

Renaud hesitated in answering the king’s question. Did
William know Serena had been at the battle?

From beside him, Serena spoke. “If the king would know the
truth of it, I slayed Sir Hugue. He was a man without honor. Men like him are a
blight on our lives.”

“My lady speaks the truth,” Renaud interjected. “The
mercenary was dismissed from my service but apparently harbored a grudge. He attacked
me on the battlefield, and when I stumbled over a body, my wife, hidden in the
trees, came to my rescue.”

“
You
, my lady?” said the king, incredulous. “It was
your
arrow my knights speak of?”

“Aye, one of them. I shot him in the neck, and would do it
again. He did much to harm the women of Talisand.”

“Sire,” Renaud interjected, “you should know that Sir Hugue
fought with Morcar, not your army.”

The king looked puzzled. “How did a Norman come to fight
with the Mercian earl?”

“I know not. But I suspect it was for revenge.”

“Mayhap we are glad the mercenary is dead,” declared the
king, “especially since your lady spared our wolf the rogue’s blade. Still, we
find your wife unusually blood thirsty for a woman.” The king’s eyes bored into
Serena.

Renaud was worried when she sat up and returned the king’s
stare. “It was not the only arrow I shot that day, My Lord,” said Serena
proudly. “I slayed other Normans at York to save my brother.” Renaud was
shocked Serena would reveal such information to the king after she had
cautioned him not to reveal Steinar’s identity. But then he saw the glimmer in
Serena’s eyes and noted the honey that coated her words. She was enjoying her
recitation of the Normans she had killed at York.

“You would be proud to slay my knights, my lady?” William
asked indignantly.

“Aye, My Lord, to save my brother, I would slay your whole
army!”

“We demand to know what happened to this brother who fought
against us!” insisted the king.

“He lives but lies gravely wounded in a chamber above us,”
she said matter-of-factly as a shadow of pain crossed her beautiful face.

Renaud opened his mouth to defend her lest his king seek
retribution for all she had done, but William’s outstretched hand stilled his
voice.

The king’s gaze narrowed on Serena. “You harbor a rebel in
this very
demesne
—the castle we gave to
our
knight?”

Serena stood, raising her chin. “This is my brother’s home
as well as mine, My Lord. He is welcome here.”

Renaud could see William’s temper had been roused and
dreaded what was coming.

The king stood and pounded the table. “We demand you turn
over this enemy of ours!”

“I will not!” Serena shouted back. “Nor do I regret the
Norman lives I have taken to protect those I love.”

Renaud had heard enough. Rising from the table, he faced his
sovereign. “Sire, my wife has served you well for I would not be standing here
had she not felled Sir Hugue. Could I do otherwise than to give her and her
brother my protection?”

The king huffed and sat down, taking a long draw from his
goblet. Then he let out a loud, belly laugh. “Ha! The Norman wolf defends his
English she wolf! You see what we have accomplished, FitzRolf?” he remarked to
the silent Norman at his side, “our wolf’s mate slays his enemies and those of
her brother!”

FitzRolf smiled, nodding.

Addressing Renaud, the king said, “Your fellow knights will
be teasing you in London, lord wolf. First the warrior priest, now the knight
whose lady’s arrows slay his enemies. You have given them much fodder for
talk.” The king laughed heartily. “’Tis just what this England needs, we
think—a bonding of our knights with the fair maids of the land. Aye, and we
would have more of it!”

“A good result from your wise command, My Lord,” said
Maugris.

The king smiled at the old man. “We are pleased you agree.”
Then to Serena, “Be seated fair lady. We are not currently displeased with you,
because you defended your Norman husband. Instead, we have decided you may keep
your rebel brother. But your husband must assure us this brother of yours will
not fight against us in future, and that
you
will henceforth take up no
arms against our army.”

Renaud bowed his head to William, relieved his sire’s anger
had been turned. Taking Serena’s hand, he pulled her into her seat. “You have
my assurance, Sire, and my gratitude.”

“And the lady’s?” asked William looking at Serena.

“Aye,” said Serena and she turned to Renaud and bestowed
upon him a glorious smile. “To please my husband who has honored me, I agree to
all your demands.”

Renaud’s heart soared.

William winked at Maugris. The wise one smiled back his
approval. “She will bear strong sons to serve you, O King.”

“We trust you see the future correctly, Maugris,” said the
king, “but as a token of the lady’s gratitude for our mercy, we would have her
sing!”

* * *

Serena stood in the bailey as the king mounted his Spanish
stallion and waved good-bye to her and Renaud. She was glad to see him leave.

“He will not soon visit us again, I think,” said her
husband, putting his arm around her shoulder and drawing her close. “That
should please you, wife.”

Serena wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled into his
gray eyes as his chestnut hair blew about his face in the rising wind.
Remembering the way he had defended her to his king the night before, she said,
“
You
please me, my lord.”

He bent to kiss her and she breathed in his earthy,
masculine scent. “And you please me, Serena.
Mon Dieu
, how I love you!”