Chapter 9
Renaud returned to the manor, the sun now lower in the sky.
Maugris was still with him but he had dismissed Sarah to her evening tasks.
Yet he could not free his mind from thoughts about the servant girl.
All day he had struggled to concentrate on the village and its people, to assess the lands William had given him, but Sarah had proved most distracting.
Walking before him, her long brown plait moving from side to side, his eyes were drawn to her swaying hips. He wanted to reach out and pull her to him as he had the night before. To kiss again her soft lips. He vowed he would do so and soon; it was merely a matter of time’s passage.
Her effect upon the villeins had been remarkable, making him wonder how a handmaiden had garnered such respect.
Mayhap she undertook errands for Lady Serena as Geoff had suggested.
Was the handmaiden more accomplished than the lady herself?
He considered the possibility for the people deferred to the servant girl, not once mentioning the missing Lady Serena.
Not for the first time, he wondered at the girl with the violet eyes.
Could she be more than she seemed? Sarah had been quick to help the wounded potter and brave enough to confront him when she thought he was wrong.
He respected such qualities in a warrior and coveted them in a woman.
But in a servant, it was most unusual. And it made him wonder.
Occasionally, when Sarah had leaned in to explain something, Renaud had caught a whiff of her flowery scent.
He had tried to suppress his desire for her and found it impossible.
He was drawn to her as a bear to the delectable smell of ripe berries.
And because of her, he’d lost interest in the other women at Talisand who might have met his physical needs.
He wanted only her as his leman. His patience was wearing thin, the scowl on his face proof of his frustration.
Maugris chuckled under his breath.
“Do you find something humorous, wise one?” Renaud asked as they entered the hall and he waived away a tankard of ale offered by a servant.
Maugris just smiled and refused the tankard he was offered. “Naught, my lord…and everything.”
“You would be mysterious?”
“I would be an observer. But to see all does not mean I tell all.”
“As you will. But join me by the hearth fire for wine and conversation. I would tell you of my plans for William’s castle.”
“Of course,” said Maugris.
Renaud stepped into the hall, Maugris at his side. The wise one’s hidden ways could annoy Renaud at times, but the old man’s wisdom impressed even the doubtful among his men, thus he rarely questioned him when he was like this. He had learned his questions would avail him little.
* * *
Serena woke in a cold sweat with an image in her mind of the Red Wolf’s deep gray eyes staring intently at her as if he knew the truth of who she really was. It was her greatest fear.
Rising from her pallet where she slept among the servants, she donned her tunic and shawl and slipped outside into the dull light of an early morning without sun.
Above her, dark threatening clouds covered the sky like a heavy blanket.
It would rain this day. Gathering her shawl tightly around her against the chill, she walked to the river’s edge and stood looking down at the smooth rocks scattered on the small shore, content to be alone with her thoughts.
Often she had come here to think. After Hastings, sometimes she came to shed tears away from the eyes of others.
The honking of a flock of geese above her drew her attention as they winged their way north toward Scotland where Steinar was. Where she should be even now.
Returning her gaze to the river, she stared at the water flowing with nary a sound. The wide rippling thread reflected the color of the sky, only a deeper shade of gray—the color of the eyes in her dream, just as deep and just as mysterious.
The eyes of the Red Wolf.
His coming had changed everything. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with a deep regret that brought tears to her eyes, a few escaping down her cheeks.
She brushed them away as thoughts of her father and Steinar filled her mind.
They had been her strength, her protection, but they had abandoned her, leaving her alone and vulnerable.
They had not meant to leave her but still they were gone.
No sound warned of his approach, but the uneasy feeling of being watched made Serena turn in nervous anticipation to see Maugris silently walking toward her.
“Oh, ’tis you.” She let out the breath she’d been holding as her heart slowly returned to its normal cadence. The wise one did not threaten her.
“Yea, only Maugris,” he said with a warm smile as he joined her to stand by the river.
She snuck a glance at him. He was looking straight ahead. “They say you are his wizard.”
“I am no wizard for I worship the Master of the Heavens the same as you.”
“What are you to the Norman lord, then?” She had wondered many times about the nature of their relationship.
“Merely his advisor and I think a friend.”
“He is fortunate to have you, sir, for I perceive you are wise and surely a man such as the Red Wolf would need your wisdom.”
“You, too, were helpful to him yesterday in the village. Do you always have such care for the villeins that you would step in the path of a wolf?”
“I suppose I do.”
“And do the people always defer to you?”
She hesitated, fearing the question. “As a handmaiden to their lady—”
“It is possible a handmaiden could rise to that level,” he interrupted, “but it is not common. You were not merely passing messages yesterday, but speaking as one whose words are heeded in her own right.”
Serena was uneasy at the turn of their conversation. What was he suggesting?
His pale blue eyes suddenly bore into hers with new fervor.
“Your defense of the woman who was nearly violated by Sir Hugue was the action of one who assumes responsibility for the maidens of Talisand. A servant might have run away, glad to have been the one spared, but from what I heard, you would have killed the knight had not Sir Geoffroi stopped you.”
“In the absence of Lady Serena, surely I must defend the women.”
“Indeed, my lady, I well understand.”
She inhaled sharply at his words. “Why do you call me ‘lady’, good sir?”
“I call you ‘lady’ for that is what you are…Lady Serena.”
She gasped at his revelation of her true identity, and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard. She was relieved to see they stood alone on the river bank. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she asked, “How do you know this?”
“I have the gift of visions and of the sight and discern many things others do not. The first time I saw you, I doubted you were a servant.”
“Was it my temper? I have worried it might draw attention to me. Servants are meek and compliant.”
He smiled. “Nay, not all servants are compliant.”
“What then?” Serena had to know what had given her away for she would change it.
“There were many things that told me you were the Lady of Talisand. To begin with, your eyes flare in anger like a fire fed by the wind when you witness wrongs against your people. Only one who has carried the weight of justice for them would react so.” Shrugging, he added, “There were other signs as well. The way you carry yourself, for one. ’Tis more like a young queen than one who does laundry.
Then, too, your performance with the bow was telling.
The Lady of Talisand is known to be proficient at the bow.
The villagers nearly gave you away with their disappointment at your miss.
The Red Wolf took note of it. He has also observed the way the other servants defer to you with their eyes whenever you speak.
He will soon have your identity, my lady. Even now he is close to the truth.”
Serena was horrified that this servant of the Red Wolf had seen so much. Mayhap he was right. The Norman lord might soon know who she was. The thought was frightening. “But you have not told your master who I am, though you know he searches for me. You have kept my secret. Why?”
“He must discern the truth for himself. But know this, the day is not far off when he recognizes the jewel hidden among the stones.”
Serena wondered at his strange words as a sudden foreboding came over her like an ever-tightening rope about her neck.
She had wanted to stay to be assured her people fared well.
But now it was clear she had stayed overlong.
Had she stayed for more than her people?
Had she lingered for the Norman lord? Panic rose in her throat.
She bit her lower lip with rising dismay.
She must leave before the Red Wolf could discover her. Before the Norman knight claimed her.
The old man’s intense blue eyes watched her closely. “The Red Wolf has a great destiny, my lady. You are a part of it. I have seen it. Do not fight this. You are meant to be his lady, to be the mother of his cubs.”
“No…never!”
The old man shook his head, a look of regret in his benevolent eyes. Though he was one of the dreaded Normans, she could feel no anger for him. He had kept her secret. But for how long?
Hastily bidding him good day, she took her leave. As she ran back to the manor, her mind spun with plans for escape. For too many days she had lingered. It was time to leave.
Lost in her thoughts, Serena did not see Aethel and nearly collided with the dark-haired woman standing near the entrance to the kitchen. “Oh, Aethel. Forgive me, I did not see you.” Serena held her hand over her racing heart.
Aethel leaned back against the manor, her arms folded under her ample bosom, and smiled. “So, m’lady. Why be ye in such a hurry so early this morn?”