Chapter 2 #3
Renaud walked to the window above the shelf, his boots crushing dried rushes underfoot releasing a pleasant scent of herbs. He opened the shutters, allowing light to spill forth so he could examine the writings.
“Was the old lord educated?”
“Aye, m’lord,” said the housekeeper as she lit rush lights near the bed, the slender torches adding light to the chamber. And then with a note of pride, she added, “The children as well.”
“Most unusual….” He fingered some of the writings and was surprised to see a collection of poems in Norman French. As he looked around, he saw no feminine touches to indicate a lady of the manor.
“Does the old thegn’s wife still live, Maggie?”
“Nay, m’lord. She died giving birth to Lady Serena. The lord never took another to wife.” The housekeeper looked toward the door as if wanting to move beyond the pain the memory obviously brought her. “The other two bedchambers can serve for yer men if ye desire, m’lord,” she said.
“Whose bedchambers are they?” Geoff asked.
“They belonged to Lady Serena and her brother Steinar. Neither is here now, o’course.”
Renaud exchanged a look with Geoff. The reminder of his missing bride brought his frown back.
They left the bedchamber and walked the length of the narrow corridor open to partial view from the entry below.
Each of the two other chambers was also decorated with tapestries.
Like the master’s bed, they were draped in curtains and had bed cushions that, although smaller in size, invited the weary to rest. From the softer colors and the gowns in the wardrobe chest, Renaud assumed the chamber closest to the lord’s had belonged to a woman.
Lady Serena’s chamber.
Renaud caught the faint scent of flowers and wondered how long she had been gone.
As he turned to leave, his attention was drawn to a flash of light from a silvered glass. “Only in Rouen have I seen one so fine.”
“’Twas a gift to Lady Serena from her father,” offered the housekeeper, her voice reflecting a sadness he did not understand.
Surrounded by the lady’s things, Renaud was suddenly curious. “Did the old thegn pledge his daughter to anyone?” Other questions he did not voice. Had she traveled north with a young man? Was she promised to one of her own?
“Nay, m’lord, though there were many who asked for her hand.
” The housekeeper shook her head. “There was talk of a betrothal to Earl Morcar, brother to Earl Edwin of Mercia, but the old thegn delayed. I think he dinna want to lose her to a husband, even if he be an earl.” Mayhap the housekeeper realized that Renaud was now an earl, for her cheeks suddenly reddened, and she hastily added, “We lost the old lord at Hastings. Had he returned, he would have arranged a marriage to some worthy lord, ’tis certain. ”
Some worthy English lord, she means.
Renaud touched the fine surface of the glass, not sure why he was pleased that Lady Serena had not been betrothed to another. It mattered little. She would be his wife. He had only to find her.
“Geoff, take the bedchamber farthest from mine, the one that belonged to the son. I would hold Lady Serena’s chamber unoccupied for now.”
“Yea, my lord. I am content just to have a bed.” Geoff smiled broadly at the housekeeper and she returned his smile.
“I will see to yer bath, m’lord,” said the housekeeper. “We’ve a serving lad, Eric, who will assist ye since we are a bit short on lasses.” Not waiting for a response, she dipped her head and shuffled out the door.
Renaud faced his friend. “Our squires can sleep on pallets in our rooms for now. I imagine Maugris will prefer to be out among the stars as is his wont, at least until winter. By then the castle will be completed and there will be room for all.”
“Aye, Ren. I’ll see about the men. And our supper.”
Left alone, Renaud lingered for a moment in Lady Serena’s chamber trying to conjure an image of the woman.
Trying to understand what had driven her from her home.
He knew some of the English women had taken the veil rather than be forced to marry Normans.
Would she? William would not break such a vow to the Church, no matter he had given the woman to his knight.
Renaud wandered back to his bedchamber, content with his new demesne and the future it portended.
The decorative tapestries on the walls and the rich fabrics on the bed reminded him of the old thegn’s wealth.
There was even a rush mat on the floor painted with geometric designs in brilliant shades of red, gold and green.
He smiled, gratified the day had arrived when he could set aside his sword, at least for the moment, and claim his place in William’s kingdom.
In the back of Renaud’s mind was the nagging concern that the English might never accept their Norman king or his overlords, but Renaud did not dwell on it.
The peasants, now serfs, had little choice, and William was not one to be thwarted.
But Renaud wanted more. He longed for peace and an end to war.
An hour later, after having bathed and changed, he left his chamber and descended the stairs, his thoughts returning to the servant girls who had fled.
He understood why they had done so. His own sister, Aveline, had been thought a servant the day she was working in her garden, digging in the dirt in a plain brown gown, when an errant knight had come upon her and, thinking to have his pleasure, took her by force.
Hearing her screams, Renaud had come running and killed the rutting knight, but he could not restore to the beautiful Aveline what had been so brutally taken.
After what happened to his sister, he could well comprehend the fears of the servant girls at Talisand.
It was the worst part of a war that was fought not on a battlefield so much as in the towns of the conquered.
Though sometimes necessary, the destruction of innocent lives always sickened him.
He knew the taking of spoils included rape, though William frowned upon it, and Renaud would not allow it to be counted among his men.
He could only hope the women would return.