Chapter 6
A foreboding like a black cloud hovered over Alex as they entered London, riding down the Strand toward the palace.
It had naught to do with the dark sky above threatening rain, the foul-smelling mud splashing onto Azor’s withers, or the dirty, narrow streets with their buildings pressed closely together.
The cause of it, he knew, was the king.
With his notorious temper and his strange proclivities, many knights disdained the royal court.
In private he could be easy, tossing off jests as one given to frivolity, however, in public and when angry, he was given to fits of temper accompanied by stuttering.
At times, William was barely able to converse.
Then he would turn savagely cruel, seeking to intimidate those around him.
Only on the battlefield could William Rufus be counted upon to act the leader of men like his father, appreciating boldness in others.
With Alex, the king had been generous. But what would he be with Merewyn?
If he could, Alex would spare her and his mother the evenings at court.
But since they had come to London, their presence at court would be expected.
While his father, who had attended the king before, would find little surprising, the women would be shocked at what they might see.
For Merewyn, there was also danger. And not just from the king.
Ranulf, the king’s priest and advisor, ruthlessly pursued any beautiful woman he desired.
Against both Alex vowed to guard her well.
Their party numbered more than a dozen since Earl Hugh and a few of his men had joined them in Chester. Alex was always amazed the earl could still sit a horse since he had grown corpulent, not unlike the Conqueror in the years before his death.
Alex remembered those years and the hectic days that followed the king’s deathbed confession in Normandy.
Once William Rufus learned he was to have England, he had made haste to cross the Channel and claim the crown, taking Alex with him.
Upon their arrival, the new king had knighted Alex, then only eighteen.
The hooves of their horses splashed dirty water from the muddy puddles as they headed toward the River Thames.
“Our house should be ready to receive us,” he said to his father, riding next to him. “I asked the king’s messenger who came to Talisand to assure it was so when he reached London.”
Talisand’s lord raised a brow. “The king’s messenger does your bidding?”
Alex smiled to himself as he remembered why the man had so quickly agreed, for Alex had once defended him before the king. “He owed me a favor.”
His father’s expression was assessing. Alex knew him well enough he did not fear him like he had once feared Earl Hugh, but it was still true that the knight called the Red Wolf could terrify weaker men with just a look.
“ ’Tis well and good our lodgings are ready.
I would not want to try and find rooms at the king’s palace. ”
“Aye, ’twill be crowded,” said Alex.
Nearly twenty thousand people lived in London now and, with William summoning his army, Alex expected the numbers to swell as knights, men-at-arms and seamen poured into the city.
Taverns would be overflowing with men and fights among them would be a common occurrence.
Already the streets were filled with more people than when he had left.
From the other side of his father, Earl Hugh spoke. “As I am oft here, I have long maintained a house not far from the palace.”
Alex turned in his saddle to look at Merewyn, riding alongside his mother. Both women appeared tired, their shoulders drooping like plucked flowers left in the sun. The air was thick with moisture, draining strength, making him glad he wore no mail. “We will soon be there,” he encouraged.
At his words, Merewyn lifted her head and straightened her back.
He smiled to himself and turned back to face the streets of London. Merewyn had fortitude. She would not allow him to see any weakness.
A short while later, Earl Hugh and his men left them to head down a side street. The Talisand group continued on, arriving in front of the two-story manor that was their destination.
Their London house was larger than the one at Talisand because, while it lacked a hall, it possessed a large dining chamber with a hearth. It had windows, now shuttered, on both sides looking out on the street and, from the second story at the rear of the house, one could see the River Thames.
The manor’s door was nearly on the edge of the street. A narrow strip of stones ran along the front of the house, a feature shared by many of the homes on the Strand. The trees and flowers so abundant in Talisand were missing altogether making the house seem dour in its mood.
Alex dismounted and handed Azor’s reins to the young groom who waited before the door. “Did you receive my message, Ric?”
“Aye, sir, all is ready for his lordship. The stable boys will take the horses and see them fed.”
“You have my thanks,” he told the groom.
Glad things had gone well, Alex helped Merewyn down from her mare.
He was enjoying having his hands on her waist. For more than a sennight, he’d been at the task.
Ignoring the jests of his companions at the attention he paid her and the occasional puzzled looks from his mother, he was always there to assist Merewyn.
She had never complained about the long days yet he knew she was often weary.
Each time he had helped her from her horse, she thanked him even as her sweet smell filled his nostrils, driving him half-mad for want of her.
Giles, the gray-haired steward who had served his father as long as Alex could remember, rushed out the door to greet them. “My lady, my lord, all is ready. The bath water is heating and a dinner of roast duck will soon be served.”
“You have our thanks,” said his father. “We are tired from the road and all you suggest will be most welcome.” Draping his arm around Alex’s mother, the two followed the steward into the manor.
Sir Geoffroi walked behind them with his son, Guy.
Alex, Merewyn and Rory followed. The men-at-arms tramped around to the stable where they would lay their pallets for the night.
Inside the house, drinks of spiced wine awaited them.
Shedding their cloaks, they accepted the warm cups smelling of cloves and cinnamon, gratefully imbibing the sweet wine tasting of spices and honey.
He was happy to see that the drink revived Merewyn.
Like a flower given water and sun, she smiled, her cheeks reddening with the heady wine.
Their eyes met over their cups and the room grew more heated. “So, what do you think of London?” he asked her.
“I am overwhelmed. ’Tis even larger than Chester. And your home,” she said looking around, “is beautiful.”
Their London house was more richly appointed than the manor at Talisand but Alex loved his home in the north and preferred it above this one.
Nelda came down the stairs. “Your chamber is ready, my lady,” the maidservant said to her mistress.
“Come, Merewyn,” said Alex’s mother, “let us have that bath Giles spoke of and shed these mud-stained garments for some clean gowns.”
Alex’s gaze followed the two women as they ascended the stairs, then he joined the other men as they strolled into the main chamber.
“It appears London has not changed,” said his father looking out the window to the street. He turned into the room and faced Sir Geoffroi. “I doubt you have missed it any more than I.”
Guy’s father laughed. “Nay, I do not miss London. Nor do I miss York, or any other town. I prefer to remain on my lands near Talisand where Emma and I can live in peace. ’Tis enough to attend the barons’ meeting and give what advice the king will take.
Our sons can ride to battle with their young king. ”
Alex shared a glance with his two companions. “If the king has his way, we will soon be on our way to Scotland.”
“First we must endure the king’s court,” said Rory.
“Aye,” said Alex. Raising a brow toward Guy, he said, “Best not to appear too prettily dressed, else your youth and that handsome face of yours might be confused with the king’s favored courtiers.”
Guy looked affronted.
Sir Geoffroi scowled.
“That has not changed?” asked Alex’s father.
“Nay,” said Alex. “If anything, ’twas worse after we returned from Normandy.”
* * *
Merewyn sighed with relief when she arrived at the chamber assigned to her. Her body ached from the long day’s ride. The room was dim; the only light was the narrow band spilling in around the edges of the closed shutters. She opened them wide, eager to view the surrounding area.
The window faced east toward the river. On the far bank of the Thames stood a few buildings, but on either side of them the land appeared to be untamed marsh.
Dark clouds hung low overhead, their brooding color turning the waters of the Thames a dull gray.
A stench rose in her nostrils making her grimace.
She could not tell if it was the river or something else.
As they had ridden into London, the whole city seemed to smell of raw offal.
She could not imagine a king living in such a place, but then Alex had told her William Rufus was not often here.
Behind her, a knock sounded.
“Enter.”
Nelda peeked her head around the oak-paneled door, her blue-gray eyes scanning the chamber as her dark plait fell over her shoulder. “Can they bring the bathing water in now, mistress?”
“Aye, of course. And ’tis your chamber, too, Nelda. Lady Serena told me we were to share.”
“Do not be concerned with me,” the maidservant said, opening the door wide to admit two boys lugging pails of steaming water. “The chests will be here shortly so you will have fresh clothing after your bath. I will bathe while you and Lady Serena are at supper.”