Chapter 3 #2
The boys shrugged, but Cecily’s lips formed a pout. Merewyn knew the girl would not let Lady Serena’s words get in her way should she want to learn. In Cecily, Merewyn recognized a spirit like her own.
As they neared the tent, the smell of fresh-baked tarts wafted through the air.
“Tarts!” shouted Tibby. With that, the three children scampered off in search of their favorite treat.
Merewyn watched them for a moment, wistful at the idea of children of her own.
’Twas a dream she did not expect to see realized.
“Little Cecily is correct,” said Lady Serena. “You did well today.”
Merewyn was not unhappy with her performance but she wanted to do better next time. “Thank you, my lady. Mayhap next time I can add another arrow. What do you think?”
“You could do it, I’ve no doubt. Did Rhodri teach you the feat?”
“Nay, Rhodri’s archers fight from the trees, not from a galloping horse. ’Twas another.” Lady Serena looked at her expectantly. “Owain, a prince of Powys and a good friend.”
They entered the tent and accepted cups of ale, then took them outside to stand under the trees where there was shade and privacy.
“I expect Rhodri had you following his archers all over the Welsh mountains,” said Lady Serena.
“Not at first.” Merewyn laughed, remembering Rhodri’s worries. “He was afraid if anything happened to me you would take up your bow against him.”
“And so I would have, the scoundrel. It is well you are home, for I think ’tis time you became a lady.”
Merewyn was about to object that it seemed unlikely she would ever be considered a lady. She was not even the daughter of one of Talisand’s knights. Serena must have seen Merewyn’s doubt but misunderstood its cause.
“I, too, had to give up a man’s tunic and hosen when I became Ren’s wife. The day draws near when we must find you a husband. It will help if you dress in a manner to attract one. Do any of my husband’s men appeal?”
Only one man appealed to Merewyn and she was certain he was not among those Lady Serena would list as potential suitors. “Nay.”
“Well, you have been home only a short while. Time will show you the one. Meanwhile, I have been thinking that when the king summons my lord to the meeting of his barons, you and I should go along. I had little respect for the first William and mayhap I will have less for this one, but you have seen so little of England outside of Talisand, I would have you go.”
Merewyn had never been to London and she admired Lady Serena.
To be with her on such an adventure would be a great pleasure.
“I would gladly go with you, my lady.” But Lady Serena’s hopes for her might be too high.
Could she ever leave behind her past? Would the king’s court be filled with those who would think less of her for it?
Lady Serena must have read her thoughts.
“Do not think of the past, Merewyn. Your beginning does not have to define you. ’Tis the woman you have become that is important.
You have grown into an intelligent, spirited young woman.
It will be important for you to be accepted at the king’s court as one who has the favor of Talisand’s lord.
’Tis even possible you will find a suitor there among the king’s knights. ”
Merewyn returned Serena a tentative smile. She would find no suitor at the king’s court and she still had reservations about appearing at the king’s palace. “I do not know how to behave before the king.”
“But surely you do,” Lady Serena insisted. “Emma raised you in your early years and she is a highborn lady. Her father was one of King Harold’s nobles before the Normans came. I know she taught you French.”
“Aye, I can speak the Norman tongue.”
“And you were with Rhodri for six years,” Lady Serena continued. “Did not his wife, Fia, tutor you in the ways of a lady? And were you not accepted in Rhodri’s court?”
“Yea, but that was Wales.”
Lady Serena gave an uncharacteristic snort.
“From what I have heard, there is more dignity in Rhodri’s court than in William’s, but we shall see.
I have not joined my husband in his visits to London since William Rufus was crowned four years ago.
It is past time I do so. Now that I think of it, Alex’s foster father, the Earl of Chester, will be there.
Mayhap I can convince my husband to call upon the earl and his countess on our way south. You would enjoy Ermentrude.”
When they had finished their ale and Lady Serena bid her good day, Merewyn bent to retrieve her quiver of arrows and saw a man’s shoes in front of her eyes.
Raising her gaze, she took in the long hosen-clad male legs with cross straps of leather, a dark blue tunic and, finally, as she stood, a smiling Alexander with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Are you avoiding me, mistress?” His manner was teasing but she detected a hint of annoyance in his voice. In truth, she had been avoiding him, embarrassed by his kiss in the stables and her reaction to it. But she would never admit it. “I was shooting in the archery contest.”
“I know. I was watching. Your talent with a bow rivals that of my lady mother.”
“It was Lady Serena who first taught me, but I do not consider myself her equal.”
“You are modest. ’Tis a fine virtue for a woman, but in this case, mayhap misplaced. My mother claims your skill with a bow exceeds her own. After seeing you shoot from your pony, I would not say her nay. Nor, I suspect, would anyone at Talisand.”
Merewyn smiled at his words, for against her better judgment, it pleased her to think he had watched her and admired her skill. “You do not think it unseemly?” She cared desperately that he should approve. But no matter his reaction, she would never give up the weapon that made her safe.
“How could I when they still tell the stories of my own mother donning a lad’s clothing and killing a Norman knight with her arrow to save my father? Still, I prefer you in the gown you wore last eve. ’Twas very becoming.”
His gray eyes bore into hers and she knew he was remembering not her gown but their kiss. So intense was his gaze, she had to look away, her cheeks flaming. “Thank you.”
When she returned her attention to him, he was looking toward the clearing where the sword fighting was taking place. “My match is about to begin. I hope you will attend.” Without waiting for an answer, he bowed and left her, striding toward the area set off by pennons.
Merewyn followed slowly, watching until he reached the roped off area. She wanted to observe his skill, for she had heard he was accomplished with a blade. Even at thirteen summers, he had wielded both fist and sword well. What was he like now?
By the time she arrived, Alex was facing off with Jamie. The two knights circled each other, their swords drawn and faces set in determination.
Even in the shade of the tall oaks, the air was overwarm. Neither man wore mail or helm, only a short tunic over hosen. Alex had confined his long black hair to his nape with a leather cord. Already his forehead beaded with sweat.
Seeing Lora watching from the other side of the clearing, Merewyn went to join her.
“First blood and not much of it,” the Lord of Talisand, overseeing the match, reminded the knights, “and no hits above the shoulders.”
A crowd of men gathered around, shouting encouragement to their favorite, eager to see the Red Wolf’s son fighting the captain of the house knights.
Jamie moved first with a downward strike, but Alex quickly blocked the blade with an upward thrust. The older knight had powerful arms and a decade more experience than Alex.
Jamie’s skill had been honed in sparring with the Red Wolf nearly every day.
But Alex, with his agile strength, moved gracefully, more like an animal than a man, allowing him to avoid the older knight’s blade with his quick twists and turns.
After that, the blows came in rapid succession, steel meeting steel, as the two opponents forced each other back and forth over the uneven ground.
Alex’s blade slid along the edge of Jamie’s sword, the shrieking metal setting Merewyn’s nerves on end.
It was not a real battle but close enough for her to hear in her mind the sounds of many swords clashing.
She could easily imagine Alex as he might be in battle: his powerful muscles flexing with every slash of his sword, his black hair flying about his shoulders and the look on his face one of dangerous intent.
Alex suddenly twisted around so fast he was a blur, his blade striking Jamie’s twice before it stilled.
Given the startled look on Jamie’s face, Merewyn was certain he had not expected the move.
The men watching shouted their approval.
Neither had they. She glanced up at Alex’s father whose face bore a grin. Had he taught Alex the move?
Children cheered from the sidelines. Cecily jumped up and down, flanked by her two companions. Alex’s younger brother, Tibby, watched Alex closely, his admiration for his older brother shining in his eyes.
Jamie paused and Alex shot a glance to where Merewyn stood next to Lora. Taking advantage of the lapse, Jamie swung hard, forcing Alex to block the blade close to his body. It appeared Alex would prevail, but suddenly he stumbled and went down.
* * *
The tip of Jamie’s sword pressed into Alex’s chest. A bit more pressure and it would pierce his tunic and draw blood.
“Yield, Alex.”
He smiled up at the blond knight. “Aye, ’tis your win, Jamie.” The older knight offered Alex his hand and he took it.
“You are being very gracious about this loss, Alex.”
“Mayhap, but I expect a rematch and soon,” said Alex. They laughed about their various moves as they strode from the clearing. Once Jamie left him, his two friends rushed to his side, incredulous looks on their faces.
“What was that?” Rory questioned. “You never lose your footing, no matter the ground.”