Epilogue
A few days later, Emma was preparing for her wedding with the help of Lady Serena and Maggie when Finna rushed into the chamber.
Proudly holding a beautiful garland of wildflowers in her upturned palms, Finna said, “Inga helped me. Do you like it?” Ribbons of crimson, green and blue trailed from the fragrant crown of wildflowers.
Smiling at Finna, whose face glowed with happiness, Emma accepted the wreath and placed it on her head. “’Tis lovely.”
The garland settled on her head perfectly. The ribbons cascaded down her back over her long, flaxen hair she wore loose.
Finna stared up at Emma, the child’s fawn-like brown eyes wide. “You are beautiful, Emma.”
She bent to kiss Finna. “I am so glad you think so. Thank you for the garland. ’Tis a wonderful gift for my wedding.”
“I am glad you are marrying Sir Geoffroi,” Finna said, “even if he is one of the Bastard’s knights.”
“Finna!”
Serena laughed. “You will not hear me scolding the lass.” The lady of Talisand and Emma had quickly bonded. Each had lost much with the coming of the Conqueror, yet each had gained. They shared their dislike of the Norman king and their love for their Norman knights.
Maggie pulled tight the laces of the shimmering, blue-green, silk gown Serena had given Emma. She felt honored that Talisand’s lady would bestow upon her such a fine gown since her own gowns had been left in York. She had managed to save her jewelry, some of the pieces gifts from her father, like the gold neck ring she wore today. It was comforting to know in this small way he was with her.
Finna turned from Emma to go to Alexander, the year-old heir to Talisand, who sat on a fur playing with a carved wooden horse. Next to him lay Magnus as if guarding the young child. “Alexander is always so happy,” said Finna.
“When he is not in a temper,” said Maggie, helping Emma into her shoes. “The babe is much like his father.”
Serena smiled at her young son from where she sat on the bed watching him. “He is that. Ren is very proud of Alexander.” Stroking her rounded belly, she said, “I wonder if this next babe will be like him. Alex’s hair is near black. You would never know his mother has fair hair.”
“Alex will be a handsome man,” said Emma gazing at the babe who entertained Finna with his carved horse. “He has the look of his sire about him.”
“I would like the next one to be a girl,” announced Serena, “but Maugris says ’twill be another male cub for the Red Wolf.”
Emma did not have the courage to tell them she was carrying Geoffroi’s child, but when she had told him he was to be a father in the fall, he was pleased. ’Twas fortunate she had been thin when she came to Talisand as her condition was not yet apparent to the others.
“One thing is surely true,” said Emma to Serena. “Your Alex will have many playmates.”
“Aye,” said Maggie, standing back to gaze at Emma’s appearance, nodding her approval. “’Tis like a spring crop of lambs, Cassie’s bairn, Rory, with his head of red hair like his mother, Aethel’s little Lora, dark-haired and fair, and Inga’s golden-headed Merewyn. They’ll grow up together with the ones ye two will add to their number.” She cast a glance at Emma and then at her mistress, Serena.
“The way Sir Niel is making eyes at your friend, Inga,” Serena remarked to Emma, “’twill be another wedding soon.” Emma had been heartened to see the way all at Talisand had embraced her friend, particularly Aethel, Sir Alain’s wife. Geoffroi had noticed Sir Niel staring at Inga and told her he had been knighted four years before as a result of his bravery at the Battle of Hastings. Like Sir Alain, Sir Niel had a scar on his jaw. Emma thought it was a good thing since Inga, too, bore a scar though hers was not visible.
“’Tis time the young knight takes a wife,” said Maggie, gathering up the things she had brought to the chamber. “But he may have to fight Sir Mathieu fer her. That one is also besotted with the young beauty.”
“Sir Mathieu is going to marry me!” pronounced Finna, rising to her feet to face the three women. Emma was shocked at the serious tone from her young charge. But the other women laughed.
“Do not doubt her,” said Emma. “If my gentle Finna has risen to announce such a thing, Mathieu can consider himself well and truly claimed. Remember, she is but eight years younger than he.”
“Well,” said Serena, “those brown eyes of hers could charm an angel out of his wings. Of course, Mathieu looks at her now as a child, but when she is a woman…”
“Come,” said Maggie, urging Emma toward the door. “Ye’ll have time to talk about the babes after the weddin’.”
Emma left the chamber with the lady of Talisand, followed by Finna. Maggie stayed behind to care for baby Alexander. Magnus, too, remained. He had taken on a new role as protector of the young ones.
At the bottom of the stairs, Geoffroi waited, looking every bit like a nobleman with a dark green woolen tunic, embroidered in silver thread at the shoulders. Around his waist was a black and silver belt with an elegant, matching sheath for his sword. “My lady,” he bowed. “How I have longed to see this day.”
“And I, sir knight.” She had thought to be calm but now her heart raced as the moment for them to be made one drew near.
He took her hand and placed it on his arm. Together they walked to the village where they would say their vows at the door of the stone church. The villagers and her friends from York had lined up on either side of their path, greeting them with smiles as they passed. Serena had told Emma that Geoffroi was one of the villagers’ favorites so all had come to share their day. Most were English and happy to see a favored knight had taken a bride from York.
Behind Emma and Geoffroi walked the Red Wolf and his lady and the other knights and their wives.
As they strolled toward the church, Geoffroi leaned in to whisper, “I think I began to love you when I first saw you with your great hound. Not every knight can wed a Valkyrie, you know.” At her puzzled look, he added, “That is how I saw you that first day I rode into York. You and Magnus were striding through the crowd. When your plea spared my life, I was certain. Aye, a Valkyrie. ”
The church came into view ahead of them and Emma saw a priest waiting before the chapel door. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she could have said. He was her life now, her future. But what she said was, “’Tisn’t true. I am no Valkyrie. I am merely a woman who deeply loves her knight.”
As they reached the church door, he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Looking into her eyes, he whispered, “For the rest of my life, Emma, I will be glad I am that knight.”