Chapter 9 #2
Looking around to assure herself they were alone, Serena cautioned, “Aethel, do not give away my station. I am not your lady at the moment, but a mere servant. You know this.”
“Aye, I know it but ye do not wear the disguise well. ’Tis not natural for ye.”
“Mayhap you are right, but for now, it serves. I expect you to say nothing.”
“Heavens, no, m’lady! Think ye I am daft? Ye hide from the Norman lord when he would have ye to wife where I would be pleased to share his bed as I did yer father’s.”
Serena inwardly cringed at the woman’s bold statement.
It had been hard for her to accept that her father had taken Aethel to his bed.
Yet she knew he’d been lonely, and so Serena was unsurprised when he’d sought out the dark-haired beauty.
But remembering the night she had discovered Aethel in the Red Wolf’s bedchamber, she bristled.
It did not please Serena that Aethel desired to be the new lord’s leman. But how could she object?
“You are welcome to him, Aethel. Surely he has accepted your favors.”
“Nay, he has not. But that could change if ye were gone.”
It gladdened Serena’s heart to know that despite what she’d seen, the Red Wolf had rejected Aethel’s attentions. “Whatever happens, Aethel, I thank you for keeping my secret.”
“I would do more, m’lady. I would help ye leave.”
* * *
Thwack! Morcar angrily plunged the dagger into the wooden table and the harsh sound echoed around the chamber. “Damn William for taking Northumbria from me! Else Serena would be mine.”
“Calm yourself, brother,” Edwin said, leaning his elbows on the wooden table where he relaxed with a tankard of ale.
“You must be practical. Even if you still had Northumbria, it may not have been enough. As Earl of Mercia, William promised me his daughter, Alice. Yet he was happy enough to change his mind when the greedy Normans he surrounds himself with urged him to renounce his pledge. We were fools to give him our fealty thinking he wanted only Wessex. We should have realized he wanted all of England.”
“He will not stop ’til he has given it all to his barons and knights. But Serena…” He paused, remembering the woman of his dreams. “I still want her.”
“There will be other women, Morcar. At least that is what I have tried to tell myself.”
Morcar paced in the solar of his brother’s Mercian manor.
“Aye, he was unworthy of our fealty. But there are no other women so fair as the Lady of Talisand. I would have her still be she unwed. I have heard her brother Steinar lives; mayhap he’ll consent to the match.
If William had not dragged us off to Normandy, I might have seen to it ere now.
” Morcar burned with resentment for the Norman king who had taken Northumbria from him.
“I am still Earl Morcar. I will go to Talisand and seek her hand.”
“Nay, the country is too uncertain and William might think you travel north to retake Northumbria.”
“Mayhap I do, brother.” He grinned. “York is not far.” He allowed a smirk to slide across his face as he considered the possibility.
“Though Edgar AEtheling bides his time, he might be persuaded to join in a fight that would give him the throne. Many in the north would rally to support his claim to the crown.”
“We can only hope. But it will take time for us to gather sufficient support to confront the Bastard in battle. As for Lady Serena, I bid you wait. ’Twould be best to send someone to Talisand who will not draw attention to himself, one who can quietly inquire if Talisand is still in Steinar’s hands or if William has bestowed it upon one of his knights.
Though the lands are far to the north of London, you cannot be certain the old thegn’s lands have not fallen to one of them.
They are too rich for William to ignore. ”
Morcar considered his brother’s advice. Though he was still angry for all he had lost, and the shame William had heaped upon them in Normandy, parading them about as his guests when they were no more than prisoners, he could not dismiss the wisdom in Edwin’s words.
“There was a wench who was the old thegn’s leman.
I spoke to her when last we visited Talisand,” Edwin said, rubbing his bearded jaw.
“Her name is Aethel. I can send a messenger to speak with her. The servants will know all that has happened at the manor. And in the meantime, you can make your inquiries of Edgar.”
“’Tis a good idea,” mumbled Morcar, wondering how it might be accomplished.
“Do you remember that the old thegn was known for entertaining artists and those skilled in crafts and fine wares?” asked his brother.
“Aye. We were well entertained when we were there and Serena was always lavishly gowned. What do you suggest?”
“Let us send a man disguised as one of them,” offered Edwin, “and you will have the information you seek without anyone aware who is asking, save this woman Aethel.”
“Aye, ’twill serve. Soon I will have Lady Serena here in Mercia, and mayhap information from her brother.”
* * *
It was dark when Serena woke. With haste, she donned the clothes Rhodri had given her the night before as he told her of Eadric the Wild and his alliance with King Bleddyn of Wales. What did it bode for their chance to regain England?
Only a day had passed since she had talked with Maugris at the edge of the river, and the words of the old man continued to haunt her. The desire to be with Steinar pulled her toward Scotland at the same time her fear of discovery and her growing attraction for the Red Wolf prodded her to go.
Her people would survive. Though he might be arrogant and demanding, she was convinced the Red Wolf would do nothing to harm them.
As she made ready her escape, she told only Cassie, Rhodri and Aethel, who for her own reasons, had offered to help. Though the Welsh bard had counseled against it, Serena had decided to take no one with her. She would risk no one save herself.
Securing her long plait on top of her head, she pulled the brown cap over her ears.
With great care, she stole from the servants’ sleeping quarters, waking no one.
Her soft boots made no sound as she crept into the kitchen and took her bow and quiver of arrows from behind the cabinet where Maggie had hidden them.
Jamie had recovered her seax and once more the blade was secured at her waist. The bread and cheese saved from yesterday’s meals would last her a day and then she would hunt.
It was early summer and there would be plenty of game.
Keeping to the darkest shadows, she crept through the door leading to the kitchen garden. As she stepped over the threshold, she was startled to find Rhodri waiting for her.
“Serena, I would go with you,” he whispered. “Steinar would expect it.” The Welshman carried a small sack and his bow was slung over his shoulder.
“Nay, Rhodri,” she insisted, “I would go alone. You are needed here.”
His black curls fell onto his forehead and he frowned as he stepped back and bowed. “As you wish, my lady.”
Serena could feel him watching her when she slipped silently to the stables.
He still had his doubts, she knew. As Serena had expected, the stable boys slept soundly in the loft above, and the groom in his own alcove, so her soft footfalls did not wake them.
Elfleda whinnied softly. Serena quickly walked to her stall and saddled the mare, leading her from the stables while keeping to the edge of the yard.
Soon she was through the postern gate. The loud snores coming from the guard gave proof to the sleeping draft Aethel had supplied him the night before with his ale. He would not wake to stop her.
Once the woods engulfed her, Serena mounted her mare and rode north, slowly at first, winding her way through the dense stands of trees, and then at a gallop in open country.
The rising sun painted the sky with gold streaks and she smiled with her success at getting away unnoticed.
But she was less certain of her feelings at leaving the Norman whose very presence pulled her to him.
She did not want to like the knight for the man he was, to remember the way he had kissed her, to see his gray eyes in her dreams. She wanted to remember only the Norman king he served.
But in her heart, she already missed the Red Wolf.
She rode all day, stopping only briefly to water her horse and eat some of her food. The night brought her to a copse of trees near a large boulder. Exhausted, she drew her warm cloak around her, and with her arrows and seax held close, she curled up with the rock at her back and sought sleep.