Chapter 14 #2
The hall was quiet, the tables cleaned and moved against the walls and the knights and men-at-arms asleep on their pallets when Aethel stood in the shadows of the entry, waiting for the next step in her plan.
The only noises now were the men’s snoring where they slept.
It was unusually warm, so there had been no hearth fire that night, and the torches were long since snuffed.
A lone candle stood vigil in the manor’s entry.
Cassie came from the kitchen and climbed the stairs, carrying a tankard of ale to Sir Niel, the knight who guarded Serena’s door.
The long summer days were upon them and, by evening, the air in the manor was still.
Aethel had known the drink would be welcomed and made certain each night for a sennight a different serving woman had carried him the drink.
But tonight the tankard held more than the amber liquid that would quench the knight’s thirst.
Aethel’s knowledge of herbs, learned from her grandmother, made adding a sleeping potion a small matter.
And she had done so without Cassie being aware.
Nor would the knight detect any difference in taste, just as Serena had not in the ale Aethel had served her at the evening meal.
The potion would only bring sleep. Neither would be harmed.
Aethel listened to the conversation between the handmaiden and the young knight.
“Good eve, Sir Niel,” Cassie said as she handed him the tankard.
“Good eve to you, Cassandra. ’Tis the end of a long day.” He accepted the drink. “The ale is appreciated.”
“It is nay more than we did for the old lord and his men, sir knight.”
Sir Niel finished the drink and Cassie took the empty tankard and descended the stairs.
Still in the shadows, Aethel watched expectantly.
Since the Mercian seller of cloth had departed, she’d been waiting for his return.
He had told her Earl Morcar had sent him, and she doubted it not for she knew well Morcar’s purpose.
She had seen the look in the eyes of the tall blond Mercian as he gazed upon Serena when he had last visited the old thegn.
And then a few days ago the message had come, telling her to be prepared for this night.
Aethel told herself she was helping Lady Serena find a better fate than the Red Wolf. After all, there was so little trust between the two of them a guard trailed her every move. And Serena had tried to escape more than once. So Aethel had planned to help her lady escape again.
She slipped out of the manor, heading toward the postern gate, secure in the belief Serena would be pleased to wed the handsome Mercian earl.
Knowing Serena wanted to leave soothed Aethel’s conscience for Sir Alain had been right.
She had been jealous. Even as a young girl, her own dark beauty had never drawn the boys’ stares as had Serena’s flaxen hair and unusual violet eyes.
Aethel had wanted Theodric, yet his gaze always followed Serena.
But the thegn would never give his daughter to Theodric, allowing Aethel’s hopes for a future with him to rise. It had all been for naught.
Knowing the thegn was lonely and had wanted her for a long while, it seemed the easier path to become his leman than to take a lesser man as husband.
And, though there was no love in the coupling, for a while it had been enough.
Sigmund had been kind and Aethel came to care for him.
But when the thegn was killed, Aethel lost more than a man in her bed; she lost her status among the people and the hope Sigmund would one day marry her.
Thinking to regain her position, she had sought the bed of the new Norman lord.
But the Red Wolf held himself apart from all the women at Talisand, save for one.
One who did not want him. One who hated Normans.
One who would be pleased to leave. For Aethel did not believe the grand display Serena had put on for the benefit of her Norman captors.
Now Aethel would make two people happy, Lady Serena and Morcar, who would claim her as his bride.
What did it matter if she angered the Red Wolf?
He would never know it had been she who helped to rob him of his bride.
Yet even as she told herself all this, a thought rumbled around in her head.
Since the night Sir Alain had made his intentions known, she had watched the brawny knight who carried the Red Wolf’s standard.
That such a man would want her as his wife gave her new hope.
But would he understand why she had aided Serena’s attempt to flee his lord?
* * *
A short time later, Aethel arrived at the postern gate, gratified to see the guard leaning against the palisade timbers softly snoring.
She did not have long to wait. In a matter of moments, a man approached dressed as a knight, his cloak falling over his tunic and mail like a dark shadow.
In the dim light of the half-moon she did not recognize him at first but she knew who had sent him for he was expected.
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.”