The Red Wolf's Prize (21 page)

“I believe they would like that. And Maggie would have her
husband close.”

“William will be sending me more knights and men to add to
those already here. Angus and his workers will have much to do.”

“More men? Why?” she questioned with furrowed brows.

“Surely you must realize Serena, England is not yet at
peace. Talisand’s castle is one of only a few this far north. It stands as an
outpost against rebellion and to guard against the Scots for he trusts not King
Malcolm. William would have a small garrison here for as long as it is needed.”

“Oh,” she said with a small pout of her perfect lips. “I
suppose a conqueror must have his soldiers, but I did not think of a garrison
at Talisand.”

“Some will have their families with them, but not many.”

“It will change our home, my lord.”

“Yea, for a while, but I will insist on discipline and
adherence to my rules.”

She pouted again and all he could think of was laying her
back in the grass and making love to her. Reaching for her hand, he said, “When
you look at me like that, Serena, it is difficult for me not to pull you from
your horse and have my way with you in yon meadow.”

Serena gazed at the swath of grass-covered land surrounded
by wild flowers. “My lord! You would not!”

He smiled a forewarning. “I cannot say what we might find
ourselves doing on the return to Talisand when I am sated with food and ale,
but for now you are safe as we are expected, and I would not have you arrive
looking like you fell from your horse.”

She laughed and he delighted to see it.

Slowing his horse, and pulling her hand towards him, he
turned it palm up and kissed the sensitive skin, making a silent vow to have
her in the grass ere they arrived back at Talisand.

“Renaud…” she whispered, her cheeks flushed. He released her
hand, and she smiled. She enjoyed his attention, of that he was certain.
“Forget your schemes and tell me of your family in Normandy. I have long
wondered about your origins. Surely it was not a wolf’s den in the woods as
some of your men suggest when they are full of wine.”

“Nay, not so humble as that. I have two older brothers,
Robert and Raoul, and a younger sister, Aveline. My father and mother still
live, though one day our holdings will pass to Robert.”

“And your family’s home?”

“Saint Sauveur lies on a peninsula of farms jutting into the
waters of the channel between England and Normandy. My father’s
demesne
is
the largest. He owns much land.”

“But not enough for his youngest son?”

“Nay. Younger sons must earn their own lands and titles. I
have always known my destiny lay with my sword. That is how I came to serve
William. It is the same with Sir Geoffroi and the other knights.”

“But can you be happy, Renaud, so far from home?”

He was pleased she was using his given name, more often now
as their intimacy in the bedchamber grew. “I am content with what William has
given me, but sometimes I think of Normandy. I would like to see my family
again.”

“I cannot imagine being so far from home surrounded by
strangers.”

“Talisand is no longer a place of strangers for me, Serena.
It is my home, this is my land, and you are my lady. But mayhap one day I will
take you to Normandy to meet my family.” Seeing a look of worry cross her
beautiful face, he added, “You would not find the land strange. It is as green
as Talisand, just warmer and wetter. Would you like to travel there with me to
meet them?”

“I would like to have our children know their uncles and
aunt, and their grandparents since I can offer them none,” she said sadly.
“Steinar is the only uncle they shall ever know, yet he might not want to
return to Talisand. Surely it would be difficult for him seeing his lands in
the hands of another.”

“As it is for you, wife?”

“Aye, sometimes ’tis awkward, but at least I am still the
Lady of Talisand.”

Renaud did not doubt the truth of her words, nor the dismal
future for any Englishman whose lands had been forfeited. If he were in her
brother’s place, he would never return. But he was aware that she and Steinar
were close and she would miss him. “There is truth in what you say.” His gaze
shifted to the flaxen strands of her plaits falling beneath her head cloth.
“Does he look like you?”

“Aye, he does,” she said with a bashful look at her hands
holding the reins. “Older, stronger and taller, but with the same hair and
eyes, though he has a beard and it’s somewhat darker than his hair.”

Their conversation was interrupted with their arrival at the
manor house nestled amidst a copse of oak trees. It was difficult for Renaud to
picture his favorite knight in such a place, but as he dismounted and helped
Serena down from her horse, Geoff strode through the door with Eawyn close
behind him, as if they were already a couple and this was their home.

Renaud handed the reins to the waiting stable boy.

“Greetings, my lord,” Geoff said, stepping aside to allow
Eawyn to welcome them with a curtsey and a warm smile.

“I am honored to have you here at the west manor, my lord,
and my lady,” Eawyn said, her gaze moving from Renaud to Serena.

Renaud had always liked the dark-haired woman with her easy
manner and pleasing face. But no woman tempted him, save his own wife. Serena
could be difficult at times, but he admired her courage, her devotion to her
people and her sense of honor. She was everything he could have wanted.

But could she be loyal?

It had been some time since Serena had visited the west
manor. Watching her husband duck his head as he entered to avoid hitting the
lintel reminded her of its smaller size. Larger than a cottage, the manor had a
main sitting area with an alcove, a hearth, a separate kitchen in the rear and
two large bedchambers. Above was a loft reached by outside stairs where
travelers or field workers could lay their pallets for the night. Behind the
manor was the stable.

Inviting smells from the kitchen wafted through the air as
she stepped through the door. A servant girl brought ale for the two knights,
who took their tankards to the hearth where they sat and talked.

Serena followed Eawyn into the kitchen. The servant girl
took her place beside the hearth and stirred the stew.

“How is Cassie, Serena? I’ve not heard since your wedding.”

“Cassie recovers. Maggie and Aethel tend her and Sir Maurin
takes her for short walks. He is finally smiling again. The two are very much
in love, I think.”

“Sir Maurin is a good man. And a knight. Cassie would do
well to wed him. Do you think he will ask for her hand?”

“Yea, and I think it will be soon. I do not believe Sir
Maurin intends to sleep alone this winter.” Serena chuckled at the thought of
the powerful Norman knight smitten with her friend.

Eawyn’s laughter echoed Serena’s.

“What about you, Eawyn?” And in a lower voice so low only
Eawyn could hear, “Sir Geoffroi seeks your company oft and, when he is not here
with you, I sometimes see him staring in the direction of the west manor. I am
certain ’tis you he thinks of.”

“I know he pays court, for he does not hide it,” said Eawyn,
“but it was not so long ago that Ulrich sat at my table and shared my bed. I
still miss him.”

“He was a fine man, but it has been a long while since you
lost him. Surely you want to marry again, for you must want children.”

“Yea, I do.”

“The man need not be a Norman if you find the prospect not
to your liking. Still, there are few men who would make as good a husband as
Sir Geoffroi. He is kind and he laughs much.” In spite of his being a Norman,
Serena liked the blond knight, who but for his lack of a beard, appeared almost
a Saxon. And she thought all the more highly of him because he had protected
Eawyn from Sir Hugue.

“When the time comes for me to wed,” said Eawyn, “I would
look with favor upon Sir Geoffroi’s suit. He is a man of honor, I know. Still,
I think it may be awhile before I am ready.”

“Sir Geoffroi will be dismayed to hear it, but I know he
will respect your wishes.”

“And you, m’lady,” said Eawyn, her blue eyes focused
intently upon Serena, “how is it with you?”

“It is well, or as well as it can be, given all that lies
between the Red Wolf and me. He still mistrusts me, I think. Sometimes I see
him watching me from the corner of his eye as if he expects me to escape into
the night.”

Eawyn smiled. “Mayhap he fears one of your arrows in his
back,” she said, her eyes full of mirth.

“I think we are well past that, but it will take time before
he trusts me fully.” Serena twisted her wedding ring, recalling the words
inscribed inside. Why had he used the word love? Could there ever be love
between them?

“The stew is ready, m’lady,” said the servant girl. “And the
bread is just out of the oven. I have only to set the cheese and berries upon
the table.”

“Then let us see the knights fed as they are no doubt
famished,” said Eawyn in her usual cheerful manner.

With the help of the servant girl, Eawyn and Serena set the
food before the knights and joined them for the repast, settling easily into
conversation about the crops and tasks that must be accomplished before winter.
It was apparent to Serena that Renaud had much to learn about rural life, for
he thought only of hunting for deer and game and had only a vague idea of all
that must be done to see the people through the harsh months. But she would
help him and, in doing so, she would help the people of Talisand.

* * *

Renaud stood in the hall of the castle carefully folding the
parchment the messenger had brought him that morning. He had been receiving
word from William’s men, so the arrival of the messenger wearing the king’s
livery did not surprise him. What he had not expected was the message itself,
written by the king’s companion, William FitzOsbern, Earl of Hereford: The king
was coming to Talisand with a part of his army. And he expected Renaud and his
men to join him as he rode on to York. It could only mean one thing: the rebels
in the north had made clear their intent.

He dreaded telling Serena.

“William is coming to Talisand for a visit, my lady,” he
told her that afternoon.

Serena looked up from where she was bent over the gray goose
feathers she was preparing to fletch into a new set of arrows. In his idle
moments there had been times in the past when he had thought of a future with a
wife sitting by the fire on an eve. Always the woman he envisioned plied her
deft fingers pushing a needle through cloth, taking small straight stiches in
the embroidery of some feminine design. Never had he considered his wife might
sit worrying over the placement of goose feathers in arrow shafts. Though she
was now a countess, Serena was more particular than his archers in the
distinctive way she placed the feathers so her arrows would fly straight and
true.

Her hands stilled and her violet eyes flashed in alarm.
“Your king comes here? Wherefore?”

“I told you he would want to see his castle. And it seems he
has business in the north. I do not believe he will be here long, but I thought
you would appreciate the notice. It takes much to feed and entertain a king.”
I’ll
not dismay her with my being ordered to follow William to York.
With Serena
he was learning to take one hill at a time.

“His men? How many?”

“In addition to his retinue of knights and retainers,
William is bringing some of his army. I cannot say how many, but I would plan
on filling both the new hall and the old. And if that is not enough, William
ever travels with tents. We can give the king our chamber and take one of the
keep’s guest chambers.”

He could see from the frown on her face as she set her
feathers aside that she was not happy about the news.

“I suppose I should have seen this day would come. I dread
his being here but ’tis not something we can avoid, is it?”

“Nay, wife, it is not.”

Serena let out a sigh. “’Tis a good thing the bed cushions
are finished. I will talk to Hunstan and Maggie about the rest of what must be
done.”

* * *

A sennight later, Serena sullenly watched as William and his
long column of men dressed in colorful livery rode two abreast into the bailey.
A banner with two golden leopards on a red field waved in the wind and the
sound of many horses filled the space between palisade and the manor. Thanks to
a man standing watch on the top of the keep’s tower, they had warning of the
king’s impending arrival.

Once in the bailey, the king and a few of those with him
broke off from the mass of mounted knights and men-at-arms, dismounted and
approached Renaud and Serena where they waited in front of the manor.

Not since the blessing of their marriage had her husband
donned such fine apparel. He did not wear his mail or helm, nor the pelt of the
wolf, but instead, his broad shoulders and lean body were clothed in a fine
tunic of dark green Talisand wool embroidered with silver threads. At his waist
was a belt of silver studded with gems, and his chestnut hair was tamed in
anticipation of meeting his king. For her own clothing, she had decided to wear
one of her new gowns and the head cloth, which now marked her as a married
woman, was crowned with the circlet of gold and silver.

“Sire,” Renaud bowed, “Welcome to Talisand.”

The king smiled. “We think you look every bit our royal
subject today, and not the wolf we know you to be, Lord Talisand.”

Renaud chuckled. “Ah Sire, ’tis merely a disguise for your
benefit. Beneath the surface is the same snarling wolf you know well.”

“We are counting upon it!” The king gestured to the richly
dressed man who stood at his side. “You know Fitz, of course.”

“Aye, I do. Welcome to Talisand, Lord Hereford. How goes it
in Herefordshire?”

“’Twould be better if I did not have that madman Eadric to
contend with. Thank God he has retreated into Wales.”

“The one called ‘the Wild’?” Renaud inquired.

“Just so,” replied Lord Hereford.

Serena’s ears perked up at the name of the Saxon who still
harassed the Normans in the south. She could not be sad about that unless it
drew her husband to another battle.

The king turned his eyes upon her, and Renaud’s hand slipped
around her shoulders, mayhap to remind her of her promise to show the king no
dishonor. She was surprised at the king’s height, nearly as great as her
husband’s, though he was burly where her husband was lean, like the wolf for
which he was named. The Norman who was now a king held himself with an air of
confidence she could hardly miss—a man who, as the bastard Duke of Normandy,
thought naught of conquering an entire country. His piercing blue eyes were
framed by short, sun-lightened brown hair beneath his golden crown. A not unattractive
man except that she loathed him for what he had done to her family and her
people.

“Sire,” said Renaud, “I would present to you my lady wife,
Serena, Countess of Talisand.”

Because she had steeled herself to the encounter, Serena was
able to curtsey before the king and Lord Hereford. But she did not utter a
sound.

The king seemed not to notice. “Ah, we have given you a
bride fair of face and form, Lord Talisand. And from the way you are looking at
her, your bed must be ever warm.”

Lord Hereford chuckled.

Serena’s cheeks burned at the bold statement. Was that all
she was to this king? A bed warmer for one of his knights? Anger rose within
her at the Norman usurper, but she held her tongue and managed a slight smile
for her husband’s benefit.

“Yea, Sire, you gave me a great boon,” Renaud agreed.

She knew her husband feared she would say something that
would embarrass him, and she was sorely tempted to fling the king a bitter
retort. But she had too much respect for Renaud to do so. Still, he must have sensed
her anger in the tension flowing through her body for he was quick to move on
to another subject.

Turning to one side, he gestured to the
donjon
behind
them. “What think you of your castle, Sire?”

“We like its position with the river to its back, its waters
filling the moat. And the keep looks from here to be large enough to house the
men we will give you. We have with us a part of our army as well as Fitz’ men.
The main group rode on to York.”

York? His men rode to York?
It was as she feared.
There would be a battle in the north.

Shooting her a glance that told her he’d seen her rising
panic, Renaud turned toward the king. “Shall we go inside, Sire? I expect some
refreshment is in order after your long journey.”

“Aye, we covet some of your country mead. The road was long
and dust ridden.”

Renaud snapped his fingers and the waiting servants hurried
to comply with their new lord’s unspoken command. The king’s party ascended the
stairs to the keep at the top of the motte. The doors stood open, and the king
and Renaud entered the hall, she and Lord Hereford following.

Within the hall, torches blazed and tables were set with a
repast for the king and his retinue.

Renaud gestured to the stairs. “Your chambers are ready,
Sire. And your baths will be ready shortly. I assume you will want to rest
before the evening meal but we have some food ready now for your pleasure.”

Serena knew well it was her place to offer the king his
comforts, but she was doing well just to be civil.

Gracious was a step too far.

* * *

The king and his men filled every available chamber in the
castle and manor, the rest spilling into tents they erected for their comfort.
Serena was relieved when her husband told her his men would hunt to add to
Talisand’s stores of food. Yet, even with that, there was bread to bake and
food to cook that was far above what they would ordinarily have had to provide
so that the kitchens were filled with torchlight from before dawn to late at
night.

The Norman army, or the part of it the king brought with him,
was a constant source of worry. Renaud had to remind them that the female
servants were not there for the taking. Sir Maurin nearly got into a fight with
one of Lord Hereford’s men who thought Cassie fair game. Sir Alain protectively
guarded Aethel, too, but no Norman would come near her with the bear-like
knight in attendance. And Sir Geoffroi would not even allow Eawyn to leave the
west manor. The Red Wolf’s knights were taking no chances with the women they
had claimed as theirs.

The new hall was a splendid display of the Red Wolf’s
accomplishments at Talisand. Tapestries, some of which were taken from the old
hall and some her father had kept in storage, graced the now white washed
walls. New benches, nearly the length of the room, were filled with both
Normans and English. At the high table, the king in all his finery took the
lord’s seat with Renaud on his right and Lord Hereford on his left. Sir
Geoffroi seated himself on Lord Hereford’s other side. Serena was between her
husband and Maugris, who the king reminded all, he had known as long as the Red
Wolf.

“We are wondering how you have fared so far from Normandy,
wise one,” the king mused aloud. “We still remember how you nearly swooned as
you left the ship.”

“I was fully recovered after a week on firm ground, My
Lord,” insisted Maugris. “Talisand is now my home and happily so. I do not
expect to be at sea again.”