Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Alex washed the dust from his body, scraped the stubble from his face and clothed himself in a dark brown tunic he was certain would meet the expectations of Earl Hugh. He did not worry so much about Ermentrude, for the countess had always been a jolly soul with a pleasing disposition. But the earl demanded that his sons, including his foster son, dress as worthy young nobles.
Alex’s gut roiled at the memories that assaulted him coming back to the place where he’d spent so much of his youth. At Talisand, he had been the favored, eldest son of the Red Wolf, more indulged than even Tibby was today. But at Chester, he was folded into the large family of the earl and his wife much like another lance was added to the armory.
Earl Hugh was a tyrant who tolerated no disobedience of his rigid edicts. Alex had rebelled early on until he tired of the whippings. The earl was always careful not to leave permanent scars that would draw the questions of Alex’s father. By the time Alex had returned to Talisand in his twelfth year, he was a different lad. ’Twas one reason he had come to Merewyn’s rescue so quickly that day in the woods. He could not abide anyone taking advantage of another’s lesser position with the intent to inflict harm.
But now Alex was a knight in his own right and a friend of William Rufus whom he had served even before he became England’s king. And the girl he had rescued had grown into a beautiful and fierce young woman. Was she drawn to archery as a means of defense? It had occurred to him when he had asked her why she had taken up the bow.
Closing the door of his chamber, he descended to the hall. Gathered around the earl and his wife were Alex’s father, Sir Geoffroi and Guy and Rory. Alex’s mother and Merewyn had yet to appear. The men-at-arms who had accompanied them would sleep in the barracks the earl kept for his own men, so Alex did not look for them. No doubt, they would be enjoying the village taverns and the village women.
“Alex!” Earl Hugh’s voice sounded like a command. “You have timed your appearance well,” he said with a smirk. “The wine has just been poured.”
Ignoring the barb, Alex accepted wine from the tray carried to him by one of the servants. Greeting the others and seeing the elegant attire they had donned for the evening, he was glad he had dressed in similar fashion.
He had just taken a sip of the red wine when his lady mother and Merewyn descended the stairs. His eyes devoured Merewyn. Her blue velvet gown flowed around her as she walked. The candlelight had turned her hair a rich gold. Around her neck was the same golden necklace she had worn on the night of his homecoming. He took in her slender form, her long fingers held shyly at her waist and the delicate features of her face.
Setting down his goblet, he excused himself and slowly walked toward the two women who had just reached the bottom of the stairs. Acknowledging his mother, he bowed, “My lady mother.”
The Lady of Talisand dipped her head and tossed him a knowing smile before walking past him without saying a word.
Alex bowed before Merewyn. “You are a vision.”
Her blue-hazel eyes sparkled with mirth. “You mean because you recognize me now that I am free of all the dust?”
He chuckled. “Well, the same could be said of me. Nay, I only meant to admire your beauty.”
“’Tis the second time today you have complimented me in such manner. You must want something,” she teased.
“Aye,” he said. Gazing intently into her eyes, he decided to speak the truth he was just coming to realize. “I want… everything.”
She inhaled sharply, her cheeks blushing scarlet. Holding out his arm, he whispered, “Do not worry, I will tell no one of my ambition toward you.” Indeed, how could he speak to others of something he was only beginning to understand himself?
“’Twould be best if you said nothing to me of it, either,” she said shortly, placing her hand on his offered arm. “It would not be proper for Talisand’s heir to dally with a commoner.” The bolt of lightning that surged through him at her touch was mirrored in her eyes. He was pleased to see the attraction was shared.
He led her toward the others. “It matters not to me you are not of noble birth.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Surely it would matter to the king and your noble father.”
He could not argue with her, not after Sir Geoffroi’s warning of the king’s likely intent. Their conversation ceased when he delivered her to the ladies.
During the evening meal that followed, he suffered through Earl Hugh’s recounting stories from Alex’s days at Chester as a foster son, minus the whippings, of course. Rory and Guy took full advantage, teasing him unmercifully for the tales of his once stumbling with his sword.
“For that,” Alex informed them, “I shall have to trounce you at chess, a game Earl Hugh taught me and his sons well.”
“He is a fierce player of the game,” the rotund Earl Hugh said in warning to Alex’s companions. “Look not for mercy.”
Alex thought it an interesting comment from one who showed little mercy himself.
“Aye, we know,” said Rory. “Our time in Normandy afforded us many nights where dice and chess were our only amusements.”
“To us,” put in Guy, “it was merely a way of passing time. To Alex, it was a battle to the death with carved horses, knights and kings.”
“So be it,” said Earl Hugh. “Tonight we shall have games of chess.” Then looking at Alex’s father, standing next to Sir Geoffroi, he added, “I welcome the opportunity to defeat my old friends.”
“You will not find us so easily vanquished,” said Alex’s father. “Geoff, in particular, has recently shown great skill in the game.”
** *
Merewyn had been listening with great interest to the men’s discussion of chess and now she watched carefully as the servants cleared away the trenchers. The men set up the boards for the two games on the small tables that they carried from the edges of the room.
None of the men had asked her to play. How were they to know in the six years she had been in Wales, archery was not the only skill she had acquired? In Rhodri and Fia’s great manor in Powys, many evenings they played chess.
The game fascinated her because it reflected the world in which she lived: the king who could move in all directions because his will was law; a queen who could move only on the slant and one space at a time because women were rarely allowed to act directly; pawns, like the villeins, tied to their liege lord for the land they rented in exchange for his protection; rooks that had full access to the board but could only move in straight lines like the siege towers they represented; bishops, representing the church, whose movements were restricted but who could jump over others like the knights who protected the king, whose surrender meant the loss of all.
As she watched, Alex took a seat across from Rory at one table and Earl Hugh faced Sir Geoffroi over another. Merewyn sat with the ladies who kept their hands busy with needlework as they spoke of their children. She had no interest in needlework and she had no children. Instead, she kept her eyes on the play of the games and thought of the King of Gwynedd rotting in a cell somewhere in the castle. Rhodri had told her the Welsh king was descended from the great Brian Boru, High King of Ireland. A sad end for so great a man.
Except for her dismal reflections on the King of Gwynedd’s current state, it had been an entirely pleasant evening. The meal had been a tasty array of many dishes and meats and now a lute player provided music that soothed her spirit. Even the earl’s hounds were calm, sleeping before the hearth fire.
She sighed as the games of chess wore on. Patience had never been one of her virtues. But for the game she envisioned, she could wait.
A servant added logs to the hearth fire sending sparks into the air and then refilled the men’s goblets. Merewyn refused more wine. She needed her wits if she was to play a decent game of chess .
Having defeated Rory, Alex now played against Guy, but Alex was restless, stirring on his bench with every move he made of the chess pieces. To her, he appeared like a stallion about to break into a run. Often, he ran his fingers through his long black hair and crossed and re-crossed his legs beneath the table.
From the exasperated sounds coming from Guy, Alex had to be an aggressive player. Only a well-thought-out strategy would defeat him. Could she do it? For some reason, it was important to try.
At the other table, Sir Geoffroi had defeated Earl Hugh, who took the loss with good grace, but demanded a chance to play against Talisand’s lord. Earl Renaud was only too happy to comply and slid onto the bench Sir Geoffroi had vacated.
Merewyn waited for the right moment, eager to try her skill against Alex and hoping, when the time came, she would be allowed to play.
As the last games unfolded, her attention was drawn to Earl Hugh, who stared at the chessboard frowning at his remaining pieces. The faint smile on the face of Talisand’s lord told her he was winning.
Alex quickly bested Guy and Merewyn knew her chance had come. Finished with his game, Alex looked up at Sir Geoffroi with a raised brow and head tilted in invitation, but the older knight shook his head.
“I can play,” she offered, certain no one took her seriously.
Lady Serena glanced up from her needlework. “When did you learn the game?”
“Rhodri taught me more than the way of the bow, my lady.” She grinned at Alex. “He taught me to play chess.”
“Many ladies can play chess,” interjected Countess Ermentrude in Merewyn’s defense while pulling a needle through the cloth she held. Then winking at Merewyn, she added, “Do manage to win, young lady.”
Merewyn smiled at the plump countess. “I will certainly try.”
Earl Hugh glanced up only for a moment before returning his attention to the board in front of him, puzzling over his next move.
Rory and Guy nodded to her encouragingly. “You are our last hope to see Alex’s streak of victories ended this night,” said Guy.
With his open palm, Alex beckoned her to the empty bench across from the chessboard he was setting up with the pieces from his last game. “Let us witness this new skill you have acquired. Mayhap I can teach you a move or two.”
Merewyn was certain he could teach her many things but whether chess was one of them remained to be seen.
***
Alex took a swallow of his wine and tried to relax, doubting Merewyn knew more than the rudiments of the game but happy to teach her more. Any reason to spend time with her pleased him.
The hearth fire blazed as a servant added another log, but the lute player had stopped playing for the moment. There were no other sounds in the hall, save for the occasional whisperings of his mother and Lady Ermentrude. Rory, Guy and Sir Geoffroi had gathered around the other game, leaving Alex and Merewyn alone for the moment.
His enticing opponent inhaled deeply and let out a breath as she took her bottom lip between her teeth and considered the board. The swells of her breasts pressed against the edge of her velvet gown. He tried to keep his mind on the game ahead but, in truth, her presence was distracting. Merewyn was far more interesting than any game of chess.
Glancing at the black pieces on his side of the board, he moved one of his pawns forward. As he had been taught, it mattered not which color began the game. “I will move first. That way, you will have time to think.”
She looked down at the board and brought her elbow to the table, her fingers playing about her delicate alabaster throat. Turning her unusual blue eyes on him, she said, “I expected you to make the first move, but I do not need time to think, not yet anyway.”
Her slender fingers wrapped around a pawn and caressed it before moving the piece forward.
His mouth watered. When he looked up, beneath her long lashes she watched him. His mind strayed to the afternoon he had wandered into her chamber drunk and encountered those same seductive eyes, then filled with anger. He blinked and forced himself to focus on the game. Mayhap he needed a knight. He moved the piece, carved and painted to look like a black knight, forward two squares and to the left.
He was feeling quite confident until Merewyn licked her lush bottom lip while studying the board. His groin swelled in response and he shifted on the bench, thankful his tunic covered his reaction. He was certain her seductive movements were innocent, but she could not have made him want her more had she set out to do so.
Merewyn glanced up once before moving her white knight forward.
His mind wandered, seeing again her thighs clenching the sides of her pony as she galloped by the targets, rapidly loosing arrows with deadly accuracy. Dragging his mind back to the game, he straightened in his seat and moved his bishop across from her knight. Satisfied with the move, he folded his arms and waited for her next move.
The game continued with both of them making careful moves, Merewyn surprising Alex with her skill. He had known she was intelligent, but the way she played chess told him she could be clever, as well.
Shifting on her bench, Merewyn appeared to carefully consider her next move. One of her long fingers played with a strand of flaxen hair lying across her shoulder. The strands caught the light from the candles turning them into liquid gold. His fingers itched to touch the silken strands.
Two more pawn moves and he captured her knight, thinking he had her. But then his eyes fastened on her hand moving to the delicate skin of her throat.
After what seemed but a moment’s passing, Merewyn looked up and smiled. “Checkmate.”
***
Thrilled she had won but reluctant to act too much the victor, Merewyn offered Alex another smile. “Fortune was with me.” When she had spoken the word that proclaimed her the winner, Alex had looked startled, as if waking from a dream. With him watching her, it had taken all the concentration she could muster to maintain any strategy at all. Unsure she could do it, her hope had risen when he continued to appear distracted. Mayhap he had been tired of the game having played several rounds.
“You may have had fortune on your side,” he said, “but you also displayed a fair amount of talent. Rhodri might have been a good teacher, but you must have been a keen disciple.” He dipped his head to her. “Well done, my lady.”
She thanked him. Because Alex’s praise meant much, she resisted the urge to correct him for calling her a lady when she clearly was not.
Countess Ermentrude stood and gave a small cheer; Lady Serena nodded her head, smiling.
Rory and Guy left the other game and came to congratulate her and tease Alex. “Felled by the fair damsel!” proclaimed Guy with glee.
“We dare not tell the king of your loss to a lass,” chimed in Rory with feigned terror.
Alex grinned at Merewyn. “We will see who wins the next game.”
Pleased she had won, Merewyn did not think Alex minded the jests he endured from his fellow knights. Mayhap he would win the next game as the gleam in his eye portended.
Talisand’s lord, having defeated Earl Hugh, rose from his bench. Joined by Lady Serena, he proposed a toast. “To the talented ladies!”
Everyone raised their goblets. Countess Ermentrude downed her wine and proudly said, “I love to see a bold knight vanquished at chess by a lady. ’Tis one of the few battlefields where we can be the victor.”
Earl Hugh hastened to give his opinion. “’Tis best it is so.”
Lady Serena rolled her eyes and clinked her goblet against Ermentrude’s, the two exchanging a grin.
“We had best retire,” said Alex’s father. “The bells toll Compline and our next stop is Shrewsbury. Beyond that, a long road awaits us to London.”
Merewyn did not disagree and, with the others, ascended the stairs to her chamber, thinking of a rematch with Alex. She was not being very true to her plan to keep distance between them. In truth, she relished any chance to be with him, even if it meant losing a game of chess.
As it turned out, their stop in Shrewsbury was brief, but she got to see Alex’s brother, Roger, whom she had not seen since she left Talisand for Wales. His chestnut hair, the same color as his father’s, made him look much like the Red Wolf, save for his brown eyes.
Their host, the old earl, Roger de Montgomerie, had begged his friend, Earl Renaud, for time to show them the Benedictine Abbey he had founded. Merewyn was glad Earl Roger prevailed.
Talisand had a beautiful stone chapel built by Lady Serena’s father, but it paled in comparison to the church at Shrewsbury. At least four times larger, the abbey church dedicated to Saint Peter had massive rounded stone arches the chapel in Talisand lacked. A long walk on a gray stone floor led to the magnificent nave with tall windows that allowed light to flood the church.
“’Tis another Norman cathedral that replaced a Saxon church,” remarked Lady Serena, “but this one is beautiful.”
When Merewyn told Alex it was not like any she had ever seen, he was quick to reply. “Westminster Abbey in London is even more magnificent. ’Tis much larger and grander than this one. The Conqueror himself was crowned there as was his son.”