Chapter 2 #2
Alex took a drink of his wine and looked up at the rafters.
Where once, his mother told him, there had been bright ornamentation, now the images on the carved timbers were faded and darkened with soot from the central hearth fire.
On his mother’s side, his roots were deep in England’s soil.
But his father was a Norman, as were most of Talisand’s men-at-arms.
Turning to his father, Alex asked, “How many new men-at-arms do we have?”
“A score in anticipation of trouble in the north, but there may soon be more if the king is assembling an army to fight Malcolm.”
“He will be some time in doing that,” said Alex, “for he waits not only for the men who owe him service but for the ships he would take to Scotland.”
“Following in his father’s steps,” said Talisand’s lord. “Mayhap a prudent step. ’Twas what the Conqueror did when he invaded Scotland.”
Alex’s mother, apparently catching their conversation, leaned across his father. “War was averted then with an agreement and your father returned unscathed. We can only pray that Malcolm and William Rufus will have sense enough to do the same.”
His father took his wife’s hand. “Do not worry, my love. All will be well.”
She looked into his eyes. “It was my fervent prayer when I met with Father Bernard this morning.”
Just beyond Alex’s mother sat Maugris in his usual place, nodding in agreement. One never knew what vision the old man might have seen. Knowing the wise one advised his father gave Alex comfort. Whatever happened, he had to believe Talisand would stand.
Beyond Maugris, Alex glimpsed Sir Maurin with his dark head bent to his son, Rory.
Like Alex’s father, Sir Maurin had outlived the Conqueror and helped to bring peace to England.
Once, Sir Maurin, Sir Geoffroi and Sir Alain were young knights, who, along with Alex’s father, left Normandy to seek lands of their own.
Now it was up to their sons to secure England’s future.
Alex was glad he would have at his side men like Rory and Guy, as well as his brothers.
Jamie, too, for the house knight who had once been page to the Red Wolf, was devoted to Talisand.
Alex let his gaze drift about the hall, watching the men and women enjoying Maggie’s feast. A long table had been added to the two they typically had in order to accommodate the crowd gathered for the homecoming feast. Because of the bachelor knights and new men-at-arms, the men outnumbered the women.
But it was the women with their gowns and long hair that drew Alex’s attention, a feast for his eyes, as Maggie’s meal was a feast for his stomach.
Content, he reached for his wine just as a woman gowned in silk the color of dark violets slipped into the hall like a faint cool breeze.
He set down his goblet, his senses coming alive as his gaze tracked her every move.
Pale flaxen locks pulled back from her delicate face cascaded down her back, as her gown rippled around her.
He imagined it rustling as she walked, the sound like leaves falling to the forest floor.
Around her neck sparkled an intricate gold necklace.
The queen of fairies walking among them.
Merewyn.
This afternoon she had appeared a diminutive Welsh archer. Now, attired like a lady of royal birth, she held his attention as no other woman in the hall.
He leaned into his father. “Have there been no suitors for her?”
His father followed his line of sight. “Merewyn?”
“Aye. She is one and twenty and not yet wed.”
“Well, to begin, Sir Alain has yet to give his daughter, Lora, to anyone and she is of an age with Merewyn. But the truth is the girl would have suitors aplenty were she to smile at any one of my men, but she holds herself apart. Above reproach, your mother believes, afraid to encourage any because of her mother’s fate.
The men do not know what to make of her.
Possibly they fear her arrows should their overtures not be welcomed. ”
“For good reason, I understand. The men say she can shoot well.”
“Yea, she can. Tomorrow you will have to attend the archery contest.”
“I just might.” Normally, he would have headed straight for the sword matches but tomorrow he would begin with those testing their skills in archery.
Alex’s gaze continued to rest upon Merewyn as she took a seat next to Lora and Jamie.
It was not difficult to see why she had sought out those two.
Jamie had been an orphan, just like Merewyn, when Alex’s father made him his page.
And Lora’s mother had once been leman to Alex’s English grandfather.
In the eyes of some, Lora would be tainted by her mother’s former life just as Merewyn was marked as a child of rape.
Such blots against a woman were rarely forgiven by the merciless.
Merewyn’s eyes scanned the hall before alighting on him. Her face bore a look of discomfort, as if she was reluctant to be here. Hoping to put her at ease, he smiled and dipped his head in greeting. Her eyes met his for only a moment before looking away.
* * *
Sipping her wine, Merewyn tried unsuccessfully to avoid looking at Alexander as she listened to Jamie recounting stories of his knightly pursuits while she’d been in Wales. He was generous in his compliments of Talisand’s lord and modest in telling of his own feats, as he always was.
Jamie had been a knight for several years when she had gone with Rhodri to Wales.
Now, just into his third decade, he was a well-favored man with a head of sun-bleached curls and a winsome smile.
He often aimed that smile at Lora whose exotic beauty drew admiring glances from many men.
But Lora’s eyes seemed focused on the dais where Alex sat between his father and Sir Geoffroi.
Did Lora long for Alex? Merewyn hoped not, for her friend could have no claim on the heir of Talisand any more than she could.
“Tomorrow there will be tests of strength and contests,” said Jamie, the sparkle in his eyes conveying his eagerness for the coming day. “Will you be attending the matches?” He had posed the question to the two of them but Merewyn was certain ’twas Lora’s answer he awaited.
Lora returned him a small smile. “Yea, all of Talisand will be there.”
“I will look for you then,” he said. “And you, Merewyn, will you compete against Talisand’s archers?”
She let out a breath, acknowledging to herself the mixed feelings she had about competing against the other archers.
Though she disliked being on display, she could not resist the thrill of the competition.
“I will. I was hoping Lady Serena might shoot. ’Tis been long since I have witnessed a demonstration of her skill. ”
“She does not often compete against the archers anymore,” Jamie said. “Young Tibby and her work in the village keeps her occupied most days.”
Lora chuckled and directed her next words to Merewyn. “My brother, Ancel, and Tibby follow that little vixen, Cecily, around like puppies.”
“Aye, I have seen the three of them tormenting the chickens,” Merewyn said.
“You should have seen them this afternoon,” said Lora.
“Their faces were smeared with the remnants of Maggie’s tarts.
Cassie had gone home to change and Maggie was in the hall directing the servants.
The three imps found the cooling tarts sitting in the kitchen and apparently could not resist. I could hear Maggie’s shouts to the front door of the hall when she found them. ”
“That must have been a sight,” said Jamie, shaking his head.
“It would have been amusing,” Lora said, smiling, “had not Maggie informed them they had just had their sweet for the day and would get no more. Their loud protests for what they considered a great injustice echoed through the hall as Maggie chased them from the kitchens.”
Jamie laughed, as did Merewyn, trying to picture the scene.
There had been children in Wales, dark-haired little ones she had adored, including those belonging to Rhodri and Fia.
They had returned her affection, calling her “Merry”.
For as long as she remained among them, the name had described her well.
In Wales, she had forgotten the shame of her youth.
But always in the back of her mind was the memory of the raven-haired lad who had saved her in the woods.
* * *
Alex stabbed a slice of venison with his knife and brought it to his trencher, listening to Sir Geoffroi with only half an ear, as he watched Merewyn.
Lady Emma stopped by Merewyn’s table to speak a word to her and he was reminded that she had once lived with Sir Geoffroi and his wife.
When Merewyn laughed, men turned their heads to glimpse her.
Did she know how attractive they found her? How attractive he found her?
“Has the king mentioned an intention to betroth you to a woman from one of Normandy’s noble families?”
His attention roused, Alex faced the knight whose dark blond hair was now gray at his temples. “What?”
Sir Geoffroi’s stark blue eyes took on a serious mien. “Surely the possibility comes as no surprise. Now that he has gained new lands in Normandy from his brother, I expect William will want to bind his young nobles to those lands.”
“The king has said naught of it to me,” Alex replied contemplatively. Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “I would prefer to choose my own bride when the time comes.”
“ ’Tis not likely you will have the freedom. You know how your father came to wed your lady mother.”
“Aye, I know the story. Neither was given a choice. But that was the Conqueror.”
“ ’Tis possible his son might feel differently. I do not know William Rufus well enough to say. But if you think to take a bride from Talisand, consider my daughter, Beatrice.”