Chapter 4 #3
Lady Emma, Sir Geoffroi’s wife, had not come with them.
All knew the reason. After the Norman Conqueror’s devastation of her home in York, she would have nothing to do with the Conqueror’s son.
Merewyn, too, had reservations. At Talisand, she had known Norman knights of noble character like Earl Renaud and Sir Geoffroi, but her own mother’s terrible fate had taught her many were not like them.
She hoped never to meet a knight like the one who had sired her.
A few hours later, the sun beamed from the sky full of puffy white clouds that reminded Merewyn of the white roses growing wild near Talisand. They would miss the harvesting of crops that had just begun, but mayhap the harvest of spring grains would still be going on when they returned.
With no rain on the horizon, she settled into her saddle, looking forward to the day’s journey.
The countryside opened before her, broad and green, with tree-covered hills in the distance.
Her spirits lifted as they made their way south, following the old Roman road toward Chester.
The huge gray stones placed there by the ancients a thousand years before still provided a wide path and marked the way.
It was the same road she had traveled less than a year before when she had returned from Wales and the one Rhodri and Fia had led her along six years earlier when she had first gone with them.
But this time it would take her to places she had never seen.
She tried to imagine the wonders that lay in London.
Even Chester would be new to her. When Rhodri had taken her to Wales, they had passed close to the city but he had not stopped there.
No Welshman would be welcome in Chester.
Ten years before, Gruffydd ap Cynan, who had only just been named the King of Gwynedd, had been captured by treachery and imprisoned by Earl Hugh, the Norman lord Rhodri called Hugh the Fat.
When her eyes were not on the countryside, they were on Alex, riding in front of her atop his great black horse. The two of them seemed a matched pair: long black manes, muscular bodies and power restrained by force of their will.
One day, Alex would take his father’s place as the Earl of Talisand and she would return to Wales to fight and mayhap die with the Welsh who had been so good to her. She did not shy from her fate but the longing for what could not be tore at her heart.
At midday, Alex turned in his saddle to look back at her just before his father called a halt to water the horses.
Alex dismounted and came to help her down from her horse.
She might have managed without him but it was a kind gesture since her skirts made dismounting awkward.
“Thank you,” she said as she placed her hands on his shoulders trying to avoid his eyes.
But when his powerful hands circled her waist, his heat invaded her body and she turned to meet his penetrating gray gaze.
Then her feet were on the ground and he dropped his hands.
They walked their horses to the stream not far from the road. Merewyn removed her hat and wiped her brow. The shade and cooler air beneath the canopy of trees was welcome. They stayed long enough to eat some cheese and dried venison while sharing their thoughts on the countryside they had passed.
Just as she was finishing, she felt Alex’s dark eyes upon her. “Do you consider me peculiar, sir knight?” she asked, trying to make light of his unrelenting gaze.
“I find you fascinating. A beauty, aye, but a fierce one with your bow and that look in your eyes, more like a warrior’s than a woman’s.”
“I assure you I am a woman.” She had never considered herself a beauty, not like Bea, Guy’s sister, and she was not a warrior as the strongest of the Welsh were. “It has taken me much practice to become proficient as an archer.”
“I know of only one other woman who has done so.”
“Your lady mother?”
“Aye. Maggie told me that when my mother was your age, she hunted rabbits for Talisand’s kitchens.”
“An unusual pursuit for the daughter of a thegn. In my conversations with Lady Serena, I learned she first took up the bow for sport. Later, it came to mean much more to her, as it has for me.”
He looked at her expectantly, as if he thought she would say more, but she could not. She did not want him to know she had been a frightened girl when she’d asked Lady Serena to teach her archery. It was enough that he admired her skill and compared her to Talisand’s lady.
He tossed her one of his amused smiles. “And, like my mother, you have added to our stores of food.”
“The deer—”
“And the boar.”
“You make light of what was a harrowing experience,” she said, frowning.
“Just teasing you.” His slight smile confirmed his words. She supposed it was best to find some cause for laughter in the incident, although she would always shudder to recall how close she came to being speared on a boar’s tusks.
“I will never forget that you saved my life.”
He chuckled. “Given your inclination to danger, I expect there will be other opportunities.”
A call from Sir Geoffroi returned them to the road where they resumed their travel.
That night, they stayed in the village of Wigan on the River Douglas where the local priest arranged lodging for them.
Merewyn had no complaint, for the company was good and the rabbit stew they were served satisfied her hunger from the long day’s travel.
And being with Alex made any place grand for she noticed little else but him.
The next day, they pressed on toward Chester.
’Twas a long, tiresome journey that finally brought them to the city that lay a stone’s throw from Wales.
Merewyn knew of it from the many evenings she had spent around the hearth fire with Rhodri and Fia.
It was the place the Normans had decimated.
Then they built a great castle set against the ancient Roman walls, the place where the Earl of Chester lived, a Norman dreaded by the Welsh.
Merewyn looked from one side of the road to the other, trying to absorb all she was seeing.
Her life had been spent in small towns and villages and here was a walled city.
They passed cottages nestled closely together inside the city’s red stone walls.
In the distance, next to the River Dee, she glimpsed a tower.
“That was once an old Saxon church,” said Lady Serena, “but a few years after Chester was securely in Norman hands, Peter, the Bishop of Lichfield, moved his see here. The old church was not good enough for him, so he tore it down and began a grand new one. The sandstone walls of the new tower were his creation.”
Merewyn eyed the jagged appearance of the building next to the tower. “It looks unfinished.”
“The bishop was still building the cathedral when he died six years ago. I am told work continues to this day. But the bells in the tower work well enough. You will hear them ringing out the hours from Matins to Compline.”
Talisand’s church lacked a bell tower but Father Bernard had asked one be installed so that he could call the faithful to prayer.
They rode on, the castle’s wooden tower looming high above where it sat upon a great motte. Around the motte on two sides flowed the River Dee. As they drew closer, the castle seemed to grow in size.
A brief conversation between Earl Renaud and the guard at the gate and they were allowed to enter the bailey.
The head groom and his stable boys took their horses.
Merewyn accepted Alex’s help and slipped from her saddle, his hands on her waist lingering long enough for her to find his masculine presence disturbing.
“You are all right?” he asked.
After so many hours in the saddle, her legs were sluggish and it took a moment for her to walk comfortably. “Aye, just a bit unsteady.”
Once she was walking with ease, she followed Alex to where her fellow travelers stood as a group in the bailey.
“I was here with the Conqueror nearly a score of years ago when he took this city,” remarked Sir Geoffroi “ ’Twas a terrible winter and a worse memory.”
“I have heard tales, awful things,” she said. “Was it as bad as they say?”
Sir Geoffroi regarded first Alex, then Rory and lastly, her.
“The three of you were mere babes at the time and Guy had yet to be born.” Shaking his head, he continued, “As bad as they say? ’Twas worse.
The Conqueror showed no mercy to the English.
As he did in York, he killed many and ordered us to destroy the food stores and salt the land to assure there would be no support for a future rebellion. The people were starving.”
Talisand’s lord placed his arm across Sir Geoffroi’s shoulders and said to the others, “Geoff and Alain risked William’s wrath to help as many as they could reach a nearby abbey where there was food.”
“You did what was right,” said Lady Serena. Her words were met with nods from the men. Alex’s father squeezed his friend’s shoulder and then moved to stand next to his wife.
“I like to think so,” said Sir Geoffroi. Then raising his eyes to the timber castle, he added, “Chester was the last of England to be subjected to the Conqueror’s will and when it was done, William ordered the castle you see to be built.”
All of England knew the timber castles stood as symbols of the Normans’ power and authority and, in many instances, the Normans’ cruelty. Merewyn admired Sir Geoffroi for his courage to defy his king in order to help the people.
“Would that I had been with you and Sir Alain,” said Talisand’s lord.
“ ’Twas best you were not,” remarked Sir Geoffroi. “We could hide among so many knights, but the king’s wolf never could.”
“ ’Tis a time best forgotten,” offered Lady Serena.
Guy eyed his father, admiration in his expression. “Is it not strange to return here, Father?”
“Yea, it is,” admitted Sir Geoffroi. “I only hope this summer finds the land at peace with the Conqueror’s son.” Then, turning to Alex, “You fostered here and must know Earl Hugh well.”