Chapter 21
No matter her pleading and her tears, Renaud could not be persuaded to remain at Talisand. It was his duty, he said, and as the wife of a knight, she should understand.
Serena had always known Renaud placed duty above all.
It was the reason he had wed her. But the idea that he again rode to war tore at her heart.
He might be wounded or killed. When her tears had persisted, he had assured her he would return whole and hearty.
That brought her some comfort, believing her powerful warrior would be safe, but what of Steinar?
Would it be her brother who would face the awesome sword of the mighty Red Wolf?
She had been teary eyed and tired for the last week and had thought it was because of the Bastard king’s visit.
But she was coming to believe it was not merely that, or her husband’s soon departure, but portended more.
She had seen enough women with child to believe she carried a babe.
Though happy at the possibility, she hated the idea that the father of her unborn child might soon be locked in a battle with the child’s uncle and the men who fought with him for England.
“I am leaving Theodric and Sir Niel here with nearly a score of men to guard you and Talisand,” he assured her. “You need have no fear.” How wrong he was.
He stood before her in the yard, once again the proud Norman knight, the wolf’s pelt riding the shoulder of his hauberk.
He had told her that knights in both Normandy and England had come to fear the sight of the beast’s fur, so he never failed to wear it into battle.
At his side he carried his sword and a shorter blade on his opposite hip.
He was a vision in dark blue, iron mail and silver, fierce in countenance, a knight any would see as dangerous. It did not surprise her men feared him.
Taking her into his arms he kissed her slowly, passionately and the scent of him so familiar to her now, lingered. Tenderly, he brushed the tears from her cheeks. She reached to his forehead to set aside an errant chestnut curl.
“I will come back to you, Serena. I promise.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Then he donned his helm, his eyes the same color as the steel protecting his head, and mounted his gray stallion.
It seemed her fate to always be watching the Red Wolf ride away with his knights and his men, this time following his king, to whom she had bid Godspeed. But unlike before, Serena did not intend to wait for her husband to return to Talisand. No, this time she would follow him to York.
Rhodri must have suspected her plans for as soon as the Normans departed, he approached. “If you are planning to travel to York, Serena, I would go with you. I promised Steinar to see to your welfare, and I shall.”
“You have spoken to Steinar?” she asked, surprised, for it was the first she had heard of it.
“Aye. Who do you think sent me to Talisand? But he bid me say nothing until we were ready to leave.”
“My brother. Of course. I should have known. But how did you—?”
“Find him?” At her nod, he said, “I knew something of his plans before he left. Then, too, I knew King Malcolm was in Dunfermline and I suspected Edgar AEtheling and his followers would find their way there.”
“I would see Steinar, Rhodri. I miss him and I worry for his life.”
“Prepare yourself for his anger, then. I came to help you escape, but you were determined to marry the Norman. I do not think Steinar will be pleased with either of us.”
“Aye, mayhap you are right. I did intend to flee the fate the Norman king decreed for me, but by the time you would have aided me, it was too late. At first, I stayed for Talisand, but now….”
Rhodri let out a sigh. “You care for him, I know. I have not sent word to Steinar of your marriage. I do not think he would believe it was your choice, much less that you could care for a Norman knight.”
* * *
It was the next day before Serena and Rhodri were able to get away without being followed. She had found little sleep in Renaud’s bed, missing him and imagining what he would say when he encountered her in York.
The journey took them nearly two days and, because it rained the first day, the trip was a miserable one. Sodden, weary and sick to her stomach each morning, Serena refused to be deterred.
She was determined to see Steinar, even to help him if she could, though she trembled, knowing it meant she defied her husband.
She dreaded the thought of Steinar falling victim to a Norman’s sword.
Ever mindful her husband might wield that sword, she feared all the more.
And what if Steinar or one of the Northumbrians killed the Red Wolf?
She could not bear to lose the knight who owned her heart, the father of her unborn child.
By the time they drew close to York, Serena could smell the acrid smoke.
From what they learned from fleeing villagers, the Normans set fires as they approached York.
Like locusts, they had swept across the countryside wreaking havoc in their path, intent on forcing the Northumbrians into submission.
All that was left behind were the burned out shells of cottages.
On the morning of the third day, as she and Rhodri reached the outskirts of the city, she heard the sounds of clashing swords and shouts of men. In the distance were the River Ouse and the buildings that comprised York.
Urging Serena into the trees, where she found a thick branch to sit upon, Rhodri followed and readied his bow.
“Take care not to be seen!” he whispered.
Serena flipped her plait over her shoulder and nocked an arrow.
Before them lay a great open field where the Northumbrians were engaged in a fierce insurrection, the thegns and their warriors locked in a clash of swords with the Normans, the latter having left their warhorses to fight the English on foot.
Serena’s ears filled with the sounds of men shouting and metal clanging against metal.
Pressed close together as each side struggled to prevail, it would have been difficult to distinguish the individual warriors, except for the Normans’ longer shields and the Northumbrians’ round shields, longer hair and beards.
She took in the scene, anxiously searching for a glimpse of her brother and the Norman who wore the wolf’s pelt.
One Northumbrian fell close to where they hid in the trees as a Norman blade sliced through the flesh of his neck.
Blood shot out of the victim, splashing onto his attacker.
She could nearly taste it as the metallic odor wafted up to where she hid.
Serena clamped down her jaw, refusing to give into the compulsion to spew the contents of her stomach.
“There!” shouted Rhodri. “Do you see him? ’Tis Steinar.”
Her gaze followed Rhodri’s extended finger, straining to see through the cloud of men moving and shifting as their swords locked as they attempted to block each other’s deadly blows. At last, she sighted his flaxen hair extending beneath his helm. Her heart seized in her chest.
Steinar stood on a slight rise, his sword already covered with blood, as he valiantly tried to fight off three Normans. He was so brave, this brother she loved. And yet so young.
Oh, Steinar, I pray you stay safe. I could not bear to lose you, too.
Quickly, she moved her bow into position. At least she could even the odds.
With a sudden whooshing sound, her arrow flew with lightning speed to strike the shoulder of the man closest to Steinar.
The arrow sunk deep into his flesh and the Norman fell to the ground.
With her second arrow, she slayed the largest of the two remaining.
Her heart soared as Steinar quickly dispatched the last one.
She fixed her gaze on her brother as he turned to face another Norman’s sword. Faster on his feet than larger men, her brother slashed again and again at his enemy while adroitly dodging the blows meant for him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a tall Norman wearing the pelt of the wolf on his shoulder.
Renaud!
He was magnificent in his mail and helm, his shield blocking blows as his strong sword cut a swath through the line of men who attacked him. The set of his jaw told her the undefeated warrior she had heard so much about was here in all his glory.
A superb swordsman, he was ruthless and fast with his blade, powerful and lithe in his movements.
As she had witnessed in the practice yard, he fought with panther-like grace slicing through the flesh of the men who opposed him.
For a moment she forgot it was Northumbrians he was slaying.
She thought only of her husband who wielded the sword.
At Renaud’s back was the bear-like knight Sir Alain, fighting with sword and shield. Men fell away from them at a terrible rate. It was no wonder some warriors avoided the Red Wolf, for his reputation was well earned.
Nearby, Steinar slayed the knight he fought and, without warning, turned and lashed out at Renaud. Seemingly stunned for a moment, the Red Wolf fought back, defending himself.
Serena swallowed, her teeth closing on her knuckles in suspense as fear gripped her, fear for the lives of the two men she loved most in the world now locked in viscous combat. It could not be!
“Rhodri, do you see? Steinar and the Red Wolf!”
“Aye I see them, Serena. What would you have me do?”
Serena’s arrow was nocked and ready, but she was frozen, unable to move. Steinar’s blade sliced through the air, blocked by Renaud’s sword. Her brother…her Norman husband, she could not choose between them! If her love for Renaud had not been sure before, it was now.
“Naught, Rhodri. Do naught.” Serena’s heart shattered as she watched the two men she loved lock swords again and again, Steinar attacking, Renaud defending. Was Renaud holding back? His thrusts seemed less vigorous than before.
She lowered her bow. “I cannot shoot, Rhodri. I must not. I love them both!”