Chapter 9 #2
She looked forward to seeing Malet’s wife.
In the making of the garden, they had forged a friendship.
When one put a face on the enemy, shared a meal with them and made friends among their ranks, it was difficult to see the sides clearly after that.
So it was with Emma. She no longer hated the Normans as she once had.
While she wanted the North free of the French and men like Eude gone forever, she did not wish to be free of Sir Geoffroi’s kind attentions or Helise’s friendship.
She had come to see the wisdom in the old archbishop’s words.
Further rebellion will only lead to more hardship and death.
She might wish it otherwise, but she was practical enough to know further rebellion was inevitable.
The Normans had tormented York for too long, reducing it to a city of serfs and their French lords.
Scattered bloodstains, now dried to nearly black, still appeared in places on the ground near the old castle but the bodies were gone.
As before, when Emma was questioned at the gate, she was able to gain entry.
There were so few women in the castles, the knights welcomed any who entered, be they servants, whores or the occasional lady.
But this time the guard knew her name when she gave it. Helise had told her he would.
“The sheriff’s wife expects you,” said the burly guard who glared apprehensively at Magnus.
“The hound will not harm you,” she said, picking up the skirts of her gown and cloak to cross the bailey. Magnus trailed along, his keen eyes darting from one side of the bailey to the other, watchful and protective.
The sounds of knights sparring rose in her ears causing Emma to glance toward the practice yard. Her heart sped.
Sir Geoffroi.
His bare chest glistened with sweat as he deftly wielded his sword, his muscles flexing with the strain as the metal of his blade clashed with that of the huge knight she recognized as Sir Alain.
Despite her desire to stay and watch, she paused only briefly in her progress toward the door of the square tower.
A woman alone, even an invited one, might face unwanted attention from the men looking on.
She fingered the plain, metal brooch at her neck.
The day was fair, but in an attempt to ward off the leers of the Norman soldiers, she had worn a cloak.
She entered the hall and went directly to the sheriff’s chamber and knocked on the door. A servant answered, backing away as she stared at Magnus. “My lady waits for you within,” she said in a shaky voice.
Helise set aside her stitching and rose to greet her. “You have come at last! And who is this with you?”
“Magnus. He is gentle; you need not fear him. He only growls at those he perceives to be a threat.”
Malet’s wife looked at Magnus’ wagging tail. “Well, then, welcome to you both.”
The servant, unconvinced, waited to one side.
“I have only a few things I need,” said Helise, bustling about the chamber gathering her cloak and a paper that bore a diagram of sorts. “Then we can be off. Wait until you see our plants, Emma! They are growing.”
For the first time, Emma noticed the intricate work the older woman had set on the table. “Do you embroider?”
Helise nodded. “I find it keeps me occupied when my husband is otherwise engaged and the boys are at their lessons. At Holderness, I am often left to my own endeavors.”
“Where are your sons today?” Emma asked. She had not seen the two lads Ottar’s age when she had entered the hall.
“Watching the knights at their swordplay, I suspect. They are of an age to want to become squires, but Robert is his father’s heir, so there are expectations for him that will rule that out.”
Emma’s gaze momentarily fell to her hands. “I was going to bring the twins but since the situation in the city has worsened, I have kept them close to home.”
“I understand, Emma.” Helise gave her a look of understanding. “My sons know not to leave the castle. ’Tis too dangerous for them to move about freely after the last attack.”
Helise picked up her cloak and Emma helped her to don it. The Norman woman held herself in a dignified manner but beneath the aura of calm, Emma sensed tension. One of Helise’s hands nervously twisted the folds of her cloak.
“You must be anxious to leave for Holderness,” Emma said.
“Aye, I will be glad to quit York. I jump at every loud noise. But we have a happy task to see to today. Come, let me show you the progress in the garden. You will be amazed! And I believe you will like our escort,” she added with a wink.
Emma understood Helise’s meaning when they reached the knights who waited to escort them to the other side of the River Ouse. Among them was Sir Geoffroi.
* * *
Geoff had informed Malet’s wife that he and Alain were available to accompany her and Emma to the new castle on Baille Hill, so he was unsurprised when the summons came.
He was eager to undertake the task.
When Emma saw him waiting, her smile lit her face, setting his heart pounding. He had missed her. Worried she might harbor resentment for some friend killed in the recent skirmish, he was pleased to see she was neither sullen nor angry. Her face radiated only joy at his coming.
Her hound trotted up to him and nuzzled his hand.
“Magnus, you beast. How are you?” He scratched the hound behind the ears as the dog leaned into him.
“Shameless begging, Magnus,” Emma chided.
Helise Malet laughed. “You appear to have won a friend, Sir Geoffroi.”
He grinned at Emma. “That was my intent.”
Together with a few other knights he had chosen, Geoff and Alain accompanied the two women across the bridge to the opposite bank of the Ouse River where the new castle rose on Baille Hill.
The townspeople moved to let them pass but their eyes followed the women closely.
On a second glance it seemed to Geoff their gazes followed only Emma.
Once they passed through the gate of the new castle, he left the knights to wait, taking only Alain and Mathieu with him to follow Emma and Helise to the far side of the bailey where a large area had been set apart and protected by a short fence. The hound walked at Emma’s side.
Beyond the fence lay the tended earth of a new garden, one large enough to produce sufficient vegetables to add to the food of the knights garrisoned in both castles.
Helise led Emma through a gate in the fence and pointed to one section of the garden where new plants rose from the soil, green and thriving. “See how well the vegetables do?”
Geoff stood to one side with Magnus and Alain, watching as Emma placed her hands on her hips and smiled at the garden’s progress. “Those leafy turnip tops and squat radish leaves tell me the garden is doing very well,” remarked Emma. “’Tis thriving, Helise!”
Geoff looked not at the plants but at Emma. Young and beautiful with her long flaxen plaits hanging down the front of her gown, she was enough to make any man smile. And he wanted to be that man.
“Over there,” Helise directed, “are the garlic and onion plants. In time there will be cabbages and leeks, too.” Helise consulted her diagram.
“Oh, and I should not forget the herbs you suggested, Emma—parsley, sage, chives, dill and marjoram. I agree with that selection. They will please the cook.”
“The special ones?” asked Emma. “The chamomile, yarrow, hemlock and wormwood?”
“Those are in that section, over there.” Helise pointed. “I should have forgotten them had you not given me a list.”
Emma could read, write? Geoff was surprised to learn of it. Only noblewomen could read and few of them.
“You will need the special herbs to treat the wounds of your knights,” Emma said with a side-glance in Geoff’s direction.
He chuckled. Aye, they had wounds. It was part of being a knight. Chain mail did not prevent them.
Emma bent over the plants like they were young children in need of encouragement.
Her long hair fell onto the plants making him want to wrap the flaxen braids around his hand and draw her near for another kiss.
In truth, he wanted more than a kiss. He missed the taste of her, the touch of her.
He wanted to slip his hands around her slim waist and draw her near, to feel her womanly curves against him.
Magnus went to sniff at the plants Emma coddled and then sneezed, making her laugh. He liked seeing her in good spirits. He wanted to make her smile often.
He shifted his gaze from Emma to the garden she and Helise had created, admiring it. He approved of the way it was ordered. The rectangular wooden boxes, about four feet on a side, allowed the herbs to be set apart from the vegetables and flowers. “Was it your design, Emma?”
Helise answered for her. “It was! And ’tis very clever with the border of marygolde flowers, do you not agree, Sir Geoffroi?”
“I do. ’Tis a marvel,” he remarked, but he was looking at Emma. She was the marvel.
“You will like it better when there is a harvest to be reaped, sir knight,” she tossed back with a smile.
Helise pulled Emma toward a patch of dark, leafy greens. “Over here is where you suggested we plant the kale. See how it grows?”
The women chatted about the plants, Emma providing suggestions for helping them to grow.
Geoff watched Emma with not just desire but admiration to think she had conceived it.
He inspected the short, palisade-like fence that surrounded the large garden.
It was sturdy enough to keep out animals and children.
Where had she learned such a skill? And where had she learned to read?
* * *
Emma was enjoying her time with Helise, particularly because Sir Geoffroi was near. She did not have to look at him to feel his presence. There was a tether between her and the blond knight, an invisible cord that held her to him, a desire that flamed whenever he was near.