Chapter 5
“I tell you, Ren, the servant girl Sarah would have killed the mercenary, no matter how many arrows it took her to see the task done. She had already managed to strike him in the arm. You should have heard her when she told him he would soon be in hell. Had I not been riding by and heard the widow’s screams I am certain the mercenary would now be lying cold and dead among the trees with arrows sticking out of his various parts. ”
Looking up from the castle plans spread over the table in his chamber, Renaud watched Geoff pace the room.
It was clear this servant girl had gained the respect of his most senior knight.
He sat back. “Why was Sarah in the woods?” She should not have been alone.
Anything could have happened to her. The mercenary might have found her instead of the other woman.
“She was hunting rabbits for the cook. Apparently she recovered her bow from among those we had stored in the armory. I suppose that was a good thing.”
“The girl hunts?” Renaud raised a brow. He knew she had been trained by the bard to handle a bow, but he had thought it was only for sport.
“Maggie says she does, though I had not really thought much about it ’til now. ’Tis most unusual for a serving wench.”
“Yea, but she was one of the servants Sir Maurin recovered that first night. Sarah told me a Welshman the old lord invited here taught many to use the bow, including her. I had not realized she hunted as well.”
“I’ve not seen servants taught archery,” Geoff said, drawing his brows together. “The thegn must have been an unusual man.”
“We know he was. But why was the widow in the woods alone?”
“She came to let you know she has remained in the west manor she occupied with her husband. From what she told me, Sir Hugue dragged her from her horse.”
The thought of any woman being dragged from a horse and made to suffer the lust of one of his knights sent Renaud into a rage. “Damn the mercenary! He knows the rules.”
“Eawyn told me her husband was killed with the English who fought the Norwegian, Harald Hardrada, at Stamford Bridge.”
“Does she also bear hatred for Normans?” He would not be surprised given what she’d experienced. Even if the widow’s husband had not been slain by a Norman, Renaud was keenly aware the English blamed them for all that had happened since Hastings, and now she had been nearly raped by one of his own.
“From what I can tell, Eawyn is a gentle lady and, unlike the servant girl Sarah, not given to strident disdain for her new masters.”
“Sir Hugue has not long been with us, has he?” Renaud wondered what punishment would satisfy the lady and his own need for justice.
“Yea, not long. I do not trust him, Ren. He knew your rules—they all do. He simply chose to ignore them.”
“Where is he now?”
“In the hall with Sir Maurin and some of the men. His wound has been tended.”
“I take no joy in losing a man, even a mercenary, and a hundred stripes on the back of a fool availith little. But he must serve as an example to those who would question my orders, especially when it comes to the honor of Talisand’s women.
’Twas my honor he besmirched as well as hers, since I assured the women they would be safe. ”
“Your knights know why you feel as you do. They do not question your rules and, at the risk of the Red Wolf’s ire, none would challenge them.
But there are not enough whores at Talisand to satisfy their lust. That is why they work so hard to win the affections of the young women in the village. Many hope to marry and settle here.”
That his men wanted to stay at Talisand pleased him. “I shall discipline the mercenary.” Renaud set aside his drawings and rose. “Come, let us see to this unpleasant task.”
* * *
Serena looked up as the murmurings of the Normans came to a sudden halt when the Red Wolf strode through the doorway leading from the manor into the hall.
His face bore a thunderous expression, and his hands were curled into fists at his side.
She could feel the anger flowing from him, and stepped back, curious to see what he would do to one of his own who had disobeyed his command.
Despite her intention to hate the new lord of Talisand, she was glad for his anger, his confident manner and the deferential nods from his men. They would not question his discipline.
The hall was crowded with knights and a few of the strong men of Talisand, including Leppe, Alec and Theodric, the blond giant who had been her father’s captain. She was glad he had stayed, though she knew it was difficult for him to serve a Norman. But he had a family to think of.
Serena had asked Sir Geoffroi if she and Eawyn could be present. Reluctant at first to grant her request, Serena had pleaded with him, saying Eawyn had a right to know what would happen to the knight who tried to violate her. Sir Geoffroi had relented.
The Red Wolf stepped briskly to where Sir Hugue stood, guarded by Sir Maurin, who had carried Serena back to the manor that first night.
“Sir Hugue,” began the Red Wolf, “you have violated a standard to which I hold all of my men. If Sir Geoffroi had not discovered your attack on the young widow, had you succeeded, the penalty would have been death.”
Sir Hugue paled in the face of his lord’s wrath.
“William himself has decreed such before,” stated the Red Wolf. “Still, while you will not forfeit your life for what fell short of your vile intent, you will be punished. Twenty lashes and you will leave Talisand, never to return. I refuse to count among my knights a man without honor.”
Sir Hugue’s eyes flamed in rebellion but he held his tongue.
In the faces of the Norman knights, Serena saw acceptance of their leader’s judgment, even respect.
She was confident there would be no second chance for this defiler of women.
And with that knowledge came another revelation.
For the second time, Serena wondered at the powerful knight to whom she had been given by the Norman king.
The Red Wolf’s uncompromising character had stirred a feeling inside her that she did not comprehend.
Mayhap it was the same respect displayed by his men.
Mayhap it was more. Those same tingling feelings she’d experienced when he stroked her palm returned.
Against her will, she was drawn to the uncompromising knight.
Yet at the same time, she wondered what punishment he would mete out for her, who had deceived him and denied him the wife he was due.
Sir Maurin took Sir Hugue by the arm and, with another knight, led him toward the door to the yard where presumably the punishment would be carried out.
The Red Wolf turned to Eawyn, his eyes first pausing on Serena. “Eawyn, I am sorry for what has happened. I know you came but to speak with me. I welcome you.”
Eawyn had calmed, but her cheeks were still flushed and stained with tears.
Serena had taken her to the chamber above stairs and given her one of the Lady Serena’s gowns to replace the one that was ruined, explaining to the others that Lady Serena would have done no less.
Sir Geoffroi stood on Eawyn’s other side lending the young woman his strength as she leaned close to him.
“Thank you, my lord,” Eawyn said to the Red Wolf. “I did but want to tell you I was living in the west manor should you have need of it for your knights.”
“You can stay there for the present, Eawyn, but I will have one of my men escort you back. Do you dwell there alone?”
“Nay, my lord. I have a female servant who works at the manor, a stable boy and men who dwell nearby and tend the fields and see to the stock. The men have all sworn fealty to you. I know I should not have come to Talisand alone, but I had done so before, and I did not want to take the men from their work as they plant the new wheat.”
He nodded and turned to Sir Geoffroi. “See that one of the men escorts the lady back to the west manor.”
“Would it be acceptable, my lord, if I undertook the task?” asked the blond knight.
Serena did not miss the tenderness in Sir Geoffroi’s eyes as he glanced at Eawyn. She remembered his kindness to her friend in the clearing.
The Red Wolf gave his knight a curious glance before nodding. “As you wish, Sir Geoffroi.”
* * *
Tired, Renaud climbed the stairs to his chamber, every muscle in his body tense from the trials of the day.
The duties of being lord of Talisand were ones he readily accepted, even looked forward to, but they did not allow him the single focus that warfare did.
It was a different kind of fatigue, not so much bone weary as mind weary, and it left its mark.
When he reached his chamber, the door was ajar.
Thinking it might be his young squire’s doing, he pushed it open and surveyed the room, looking for Mathieu’s brown head of hair.
The usually dark chamber was aglow with light from candles set on each of the tables and rush lights near the bed.
Renaud was instantly wary. It was not Mathieu’s habit to spend the candles so freely.
His eyes were drawn to the bed cover, which had been turned down. Resting upon it was a woman, the same dark-eyed wench who served him wine at the evening meal.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. As he said the words, he realized the question was unnecessary. The woman was in his bed, her dark hair splayed over the pillow and her breasts barely covered by the thin undertunic she wore. Her intent was easily discerned.
“I thought ye might want some company m’lord.”
“Where is Mathieu?”
“I sent him away, thinking ye might prefer to be private.”
She rose up and sat back on her heels, the effect being to push her breasts out in blatant offering.
The woman was attractive and clearly had seduction in mind. But she held no appeal. Mayhap it was her dark eyes. There was only one woman at Talisand he wanted in his bed and her eyes were the color of violets.