The Wolf and the Dove (57 page)

“What bothers you, my lord?” he asked. “They slew a beast to feed themselves. ’Tis simple.”

“Not so,” Wulfgar replied. “They took no part to smoke or cure but just enough to fill their bellies for the moment. They must have other plans to gain provender for their journey and I fear that we are part of those plans.”

He gazed around toward the barren hilltops that surrounded them and the small hairs crawled on the back of his neck. Gowain saw his frown.

“Aye, Wulfgar.” The young knight also gazed about. “I also feel there is something amiss here. These men sneak in the night not like soldiers but like sulking beasts.”

Again they returned to Darkenwald with no word of victory and were met with news that as he rode to the south a farm was burned to the north and a small herd of goats slain. No meat had been taken from them. They had been left as they fell for the scavengers. It seemed senseless, as if the band would simply destroy as much as they could.

Wulfgar chafed cruelly at his folly. He paced the hall and raged that he had let himself be led astray while the enemy raided and laid waste to his holdings. Aislinn wondered at his mood, for she knew he chastised himself more harshly than any other would, but she held her tongue. He calmed after a bit and at her urging ate a light supper after which he seemed at ease again. He cast off the heavy hauberk, leaving on the leather tunic he wore beneath and sat before the hearth, discussing the day with Bolsgar and Sweyn.

“The thieves have been to Cregan and then north and today south. Tomorrow we shall set out at the first light of dawn and ride to the west. Mayhap we can intercept them in their thievery.”

The others could name no better plan. They would rely upon the signals to mark the band of raiders and hope they could catch them before more damage was done.

Gwyneth’s rasping temper had worn them all through the evening as she ranted on their failure to find the rebels. Now as she began again, Aislinn looked away to where Bryce played on a pelt before the warm hearth, letting the sight of him ease her vexation.

“ ’Tis in fear I cower here amid these moldering ruins that could hardly slow a well cast spear,” Gwyneth said, glancing around at the ancient timbers that roofed the hall. “What have you done to see to our safety, Wulfgar?”

He lowered his brow and stared into the fire without reply.

“Aye, you wear the hooves of your horses low and plow the roadways well, but have you set a sword to a single one of those thieves? Nay. They still roam as free as the wind. Indeed, on the morrow I may have to take a blade and defend myself against them while you wander the countryside.”

Wulfgar turned to stare at her as if he half wished her words would come true.

Bolsgar grunted and his voice fell sour from his mouth. “Leave the sword, my daughter. Take your tongue to them instead. It has far the sharper edge and since it smites your protectors so, it should lay low the worst of our enemies. Who could stand before it? ‘Twould surely pierce the stoutest shield and split the holder in twain.”

Aislinn choked and coughed at Bolsgar’s comment, trying not to laugh, and in the process won a glare from Gwyneth. She busied herself at twirling her distaff, drawing a long yarn from the ball of wool that capped its smaller end.

“My good father jests while thieves burn and pillage and make us hide behind our walls,” Gwyneth snarled. “I cannot even take a ride to ease my spirit.”

Sweyn chortled. “My thanks for little favors. At least we need not fear for the horses.”

Bolsgar joined his mirth. “If we could but teach her to turn them about. She is ever riding out but always walking back.”

Gwyneth placed her sewing on the hearth and turned to glare at them, standing with her arms akimbo.

“Laugh, you croaking ravens,” she railed at the two men. “I do not prop my leg in the tower and look for silly flashes from the hills nor do I slobber on my food or swill ale like a boar.”

“Aye, but what do you do?” Bolsgar interrupted and was rewarded with another flare of her temper.

“As any lady should I keep to myself.” She cast her eyes askance to Aislinn. “I mind my stitchery and naught else as my lord Wulfgar bade me. I am careful not to injure the gentle pride of others.”

She paused and a whimper came from behind her. She turned and saw that Bryce had found her sewing where she had laid it and pulled it to him. He did much damage to it now as he struggled to free himself from the snarled yarns. Gwyneth shrieked and bending, snatched the stuff from him, jerking it free of his tiny arms.

“Brat!” she cried and slapped him on the arm, leaving a reddening welt. He puckered his lips and drew a long breath to cry.

“Brat!” she spat again. “I’ll teach you to—”

There was a sudden thud as she sat firmly on the dusty floor. Aislinn’s ankle had swept her feet from beneath her. Gwyneth’s eyes flamed with her fury then widened in startled fear as she looked up to find Aislinn standing above her with feet braced, coppery hair ablaze in the light of the fire and violet eyes striking sparks of rage. In her hands she clutched the distaff like a spear about to be thrust. The lips parted and the words came breathless but hard.

“What you lay to me, Gwyneth, I can bear. I am a woman full grown.” She leaned forward and the distaff moved threateningly. “But Norman or English, light, dark, red or green, that baby is
mine
—and if you would lay hand to him again, you would best seek a sword, for I will tear you end from end.” Aislinn paused but a moment before demanding, “Do you hear me?”

With gaping jaw Gwyneth nodded slowly. Aislinn stood away from her and lifted the awestruck Bryce to her, cooing into his ear as she soothed the sting of his arm. Gwyneth gathered herself and her sewing and dusted her skirts. Unable to face the grinning men, she made her way to her room.

Later in their chambers Wulfgar stood watching as Aislinn laid the babe before the hearth. He marveled that she could be at one time the wild tempered vixen when her offspring was threatened and then another this graceful nymph who did the slow, mesmerizing dance of a wife before him as she went about her duties in the room. Her every movement was a study in rhythm and grace. The white kirtle she wore flowed about her as she moved, showing a thrusting breast now and curved hip or a narrow waist then. He could feel the urge grow in him and as she came near he caught her in the crook of his arm, bringing her to meet his questioning kiss, but a cry from Bryce soon proved a distraction.

“Wait till the child is asleep,” she whispered against his lips. “Then we will see your rutting ways well met.”

“Rutting?” He grunted, disappointed. “And who is the maid who swings her coltish hips and fondles me in public until I would fair burst my seams?”

He kissed her again softly before stretching out in his chair, and from beneath lowered lids watched her closely. She bent low to pick up her wool cards from the hearth and presented him with a view of her swelling breasts pressed almost free of the open front of the kirtle.

“Have a care, my love,” he murmured softly. “Or I may yet startle the babe.”

She rose quickly, blushing at his boldness, but knew full well it was no idle threat.

“Watch the child for a while,” Aislinn bade him sweetly. “I must see Miderd about some things and set tomorrow’s fare.”

Gathering a shawl about her shoulders, she left him to Bryce’s care. Wulfgar closed his eyes for a moment and relaxed, feeling the sense of peacefulness that seemed to flood him with the warmth of the fire. He opened his eyes again at a tug on his ankle and saw that Bryce had rolled to him and now struggled to sit up with the help of his leg. The lad succeeded and sat unsteadily while he looked up at Wulfgar with those wide, quizzical blue eyes. He showed no fear of the huge Norman lord but wrinkled his eyes in a smile. He waved his chubby arms in glee, chuckling heartily and toppled abruptly. Eyes, suddenly sad, raised as his chin quivered and great tears began to stream down his face. Ever at a fault before tears, Wulfgar reached down and lifted the babe to his lap.

The eyes instantly dried and the child chortled, happy at his new position in the world and plucked with wondering fingers at the collar of Wulfgar’s chainse. He stretched upward along the broad, hard chest and explored the smiling mouth of the face that loomed above him. Wulfgar reached down beside his chair and lifted a wood and cloth doll to place it in the boy’s hands. After a few moments the babe yawned, tiring of the toy, and dropped it. He moved about until he was comfortable on this unyielding bed then sighed and went to sleep.

Wulfgar sat for a long time without moving, afraid of disturbing the boy. There was an odd warmth that grew in him as he realized this tiny, helpless being trusted him beyond all reason. The small chest rose and fell with the soft, quick breath of a child’s sleep. Could this one have sprung from his loins and the lust he had eased on a young, beautiful captive?

This lad lies lovingly and in full trust upon my breast, Wulfgar mused. Still I shun his love. What is his motive that he comes hither though I gave no word to him?

Wulfgar’s mind was in a turmoil, yet he slowly became aware that he was bound by more than vows. There were other ties that sank tender hooks within the heart of a man and would never set him free without deep scars that marred the soul. The vows of wedlock were a promise just the fulfillment of which chained him more firmly than the words.

He gazed down at the innocent slumbering face and knew the sire made no difference. This would be his child from this day forth.

The fierce Norman knight bent low and gently kissed the head that rested on his chest. He felt a presence beside him and raised his gaze to meet Aislinn’s shining eyes. She looked down upon the man holding her child and felt an overwhelming love for them both.

The new day dawned and Wulfgar set out with his men, riding to the west as planned. It was not long before a flash from a hill warned of an attack to the east of Darkenwald. Wulfgar swore and swinging about, pressed his men to a hard pace as one stayed long enough to give word of his direction. They had passed the castle when one of the bowmen called and pointed to the tower where another watchman signaled. The band had split and was now burning cottages to the north and south. Wulfgar’s rage and frustration mounted. At his order his man flashed back that they would divide and go after them. He had barely made the parting from Gowain and Milbourne and headed northward when word came that the band had reformed and set a torch to a field in the west of his holdings. Wulfgar’s face blackened. He and his men had rested there only a few hours ago. How could the Flemish know his whereabouts that they could elude him so well? He growled a command and a message was sent for Gowain and Milbourne to meet him
near Darkenwald.

Thus the troubled day wore on. He saw nothing of the invaders, everywhere he went they were pillaging elsewhere. Before the sun had set, word had ceased to come of the raiders and Wulfgar could only surmise that they had gone to ground somewhere in the myriad places of forests and swamps where they could not be found. He cursed the day and with his men slumping wearily in their saddles, they returned to Darkenwald.

Wulfgar strode into the hall in great agitation, flinging the portal wide with a loud crash, frightening Bryce who lay on a pelt before the hearth. The lad’s lips trembled and soon his face was a caricature of youthful distress. Aislinn set aside her distaff and lifted him, cuddling him close to soothe his fears. Her gaze followed Wulfgar as he paced in front of the hearth, slapping his gauntlets against his thigh.

“ ’Twould be no different if they knew my every move before I made it,” he raged. “If I told them of my thoughts, they could not escape me better.”

He paused suddenly and stared at his wife.

“How could they know unless—” He shook his head as if confused by the thought. “Who would tell them?” He strode away then turned back to Aislinn. “Who here left the town?”

She shrugged. “I did not watch closely, but the people held close to the castle and most of them went about on foot.”

Wulfgar pressed the question. “Kerwick, mayhap? Or Maida?”

Aislinn shook her head vehemently. “Nay. Kerwick was with Beaufonte at the castle the entire day and Maida stayed here with Bryce.”

“ ’Twas but a thought,” Wulfgar sighed, yet Aislinn knew he still worried on the matter.

He called Sanhurst to bid him fetch Bolsgar and Sweyn. When they came, he climbed with them to the top of the tower where no prying ears could overhear. Wulfgar looked out upon his lands spread wide below him.

“I own this small estate, yet I find I cannot protect it from a few straggling soldiers. Even the lookouts do not give us the advantage.”

Bolsgar watched him as he spoke and knew his concern. “They report only bands of men,” he said slowly. “If the Flemish raiders divide singly or in pairs and wear Norman cloaks, they would pass unnoted and when they rejoined ‘twould be too late for us to forestay them.”

“True,” Wulfgar ceded. “Then let the lookouts report all riders and their direction. ‘Twill take a few new signals, but you can see to it, Bolsgar.”

“Wulfgar.” Sweyn now spoke his piece. “There is a thing that gnaws at me. You ever tell this place of our intentions and we find no enemies where we go. It bodes of a traitor in our midst. Let us inform no one and ride where we will.”

“You are right, Sweyn, and it eats at me that I can put no name to the Judas.” Wulfgar beat the railing with his fist. “Or perhaps someone reads our signals as well as we. Though if that were true, it would be as simple to slay or drive the watchers in. We will do as you say on the morrow. Say no word of this to anyone.” He turned to Bolsgar. “Let no watcher pass a signal as to where we ride from here, then we shall see.”

Bolsgar went to see his task performed, and when all was done to make the morrow safe, they met in the hall and did justice to Haylan’s cookery. The meal was concluded and Wulfgar took Bryce from his mother’s arms and mounted the stairs to the chamber with Aislinn at his side. Bolsgar and Sweyn exchanged glances over this unusual happening and then silently toasted the day.