The Wolf and the Dove (58 page)

Bryce gurgled with glee as Wulfgar gently tusseled with him on a pelt spread in front of the hearth. When the babe grew tired of the games and yawned, Aislinn put him in the cradle. On her return across the chamber, she drew a cup of wine for her husband and handing it to him, sat crosslegged beside him as he sipped it. His eyes warmed to her and setting the goblet aside, he reached out an arm to pull her down against him. He pressed a soft and tender kiss upon her lips, and she sighed as she traced a finger along his cheek.

“You are tired, my lord.”

“There is an elixir of youth you add to my cup,” he whispered as his lips caressed her cheek. “It makes me feel as if the day has yet to begin.” He loosed the strings of her kirtle until her bosom lay open to his gaze.

Her arms slipped around his neck and they came together as lips melted to lips, and in his bed Bryce slept on through the sound and fury of their play.

Wulfgar and his men rode out the next morning shortly after sunrise and waited in a wooded copse until the first sign of the band had been seen by the watchers and signaled, then they rode hard. The first cottage was barely set afire when they arrived. The haystacks were scattered as if waiting to be torched and the signs were that the raiders had left in haste. They doused the flames, salvaging most of the structure.

A hill twinkled with reflected sunlight and Wulfgar called his men to horse and they rode again. This time the hut was not kindled, but a small fire to light the brands was still smoking in the yard. Again the thieves scattered into the forest, but in their haste to flee they left a trail. Now the heat of the chase and near success seized the Norman pursuers and the pace quickened. A new signal beckoned and they swung south, this time to see the colors of Flanders as the band of raiders gathered and then had to fly. The quarry scattered again and Wulfgar’s men spread out to search the runs and warrens.

A new beacon flickered and at Wulfgar’s call his men came together to ride north. They mounted the top of a hill just as the raiders regrouped and the chase was rejoined. The thieves fled into the edge of the swamp and scattered once more. Wulfgar’s men followed, flushing two Flemish from cover and as they raised their swords the two were slain as many arrows studded their leather tunics. Wulfgar confirmed they were Flemish, but they bore no coat of arms to name their leader.

The others had eluded the chase, and as Wulfgar waited for his lookouts to come to life with further news, he and his men rested their mounts and took a light repast. The hunt bore ever closer on the invaders, and thus the day was filled until, with the dark, no further sign was visible. A return was made to the hall and Wulfgar felt secure. The pillaging marauders had found no rest or food and would be hard pressed to meet their own needs, at least till dawn. He vowed he would wear the raiders down until they fled his lands or surrendered. And to that other thought, his mind had already formed a plan, yet who it was who worked against him in his own hall or town he could not name though he considered and rejected several possibilities.

Much later that night he drew Aislinn and Bolsgar out for a stroll in the frosty evening brightly lit by a full moon.

“There is one who betrays us here and we must find him out,” he told them. “ ’Tis my plan that my men will leave by twos before first light and wait beyond the hill. I will go with Sweyn and Gowain as if to seek signs of the raiders.”

Aislinn decried his scheme, clinging to his arm. “But, Wulfgar, there is danger in you riding with so few. There are still a score or more of them. ’Tis folly.”

“Nay, my love, hear me out,” he bade. “I will join my men and ride slowly east beyond Cregan where we left the raiders. They should have camped nearby. You and Bolsgar will watch the hall and town. If someone leaves to betray us, you will see him and can send a rider to me. Once we know them warned we will ride hard to scatter them again before damage is done. Mayhap we may slay a few and with their informer found out, we will surely win the day.”

Bolsgar agreed and when assured no danger would come to Wulfgar, Aislinn finally nodded her assent. Wulfgar dropped an arm about her shoulders.

“Good lass, we’ll have the best of them yet.”

Wulfgar roused from bed long before daylight and watched from the chamber window as the men left by twos and threes, carefully keeping to the shadows and being quiet in their passage. When they had all gone and the first light of dawn drove the stars from the eastern sky, he donned his clothes and with his hauberk over his arm left the room with Aislinn to break the fast. Bolsgar and Sweyn joined them at the table and soon Beaufonte. Gwyneth came down sleepily rubbing her eyes and yawning as if the noise of the men’s stirrings had awakened her. When Wulfgar was assured all was there within hearing he rose.

“Come, Sweyn. The thieves will not wait upon our table. Let us fetch Gowain and see if we can search out the rebels.”

Sweyn rose mumbling through a mouthful of rich brewis as Wulfgar threw on his hauberk and coif and set his helm to his head. The Norseman hefted his sword and battle-ax, testing the edge of the latter with a gleam in his fair blue eyes.

“She seems eager to bite today,” he laughed. “Mayhap we will find a skull or two to split.”

Gwyneth sneered. “Let us hope you fare better than you have in the days passed. Forsooth, I’ll have to bolt the doors of Darkenwald against those scavenging few to save my maiden’s virtue.”

Wulfgar peered at her with a mocking grin. “Prithee, sister, do not fret. That danger seems far-fetched and I would guess you have naught to worry you.”

Gwyneth threw him an ugly scowl that drew a guffaw from Sweyn who rumbled:

“Nay, Wulfgar, she does not fret. She only counts the moments till they come.”

With that Sweyn left the hall with Wulfgar following. Gowain joined them and as they took the road to the west, every eye watched.

Bolsgar stood in the tower of the hall with the signal man and held his gaze to the village spread out beneath them. Beaufonte rode near the castle and Aislinn sat in the bedchamber at the window with the shutters barely ajar where she could see the lower end of the village and the path to the swamp and forest. She could not see Maida’s hut where it crouched by the willows, yet worried that her mother might have found a way to spend her vengeance upon Wulfgar without her daughter’s knowledge. Aislinn toyed with the sewing in her lap, unable to set her mind to it. She fretted that something might go amiss and Wulfgar would fall into a trap set for him. She could not bear the thought of losing him and grew more anxious with each passing moment.

Suddenly her heart leapt, for she saw a movement in the thick brush by the edge of the marsh. She watched closely and saw it was a woman’s figure that crept along in the shadows. A cold dread began to build in her breast as she thought of Maida again and her eyes strained to catch some familiar mannerism that would bare the identity of the person. A dark mantle shrouded the figure from head to toe, giving her little aid. Her mind would not still. Perhaps it was some other. Haylan perhaps? Had she found a lord of Flanders for her own?

The figure passed an open spot and she saw that it was not her mother, for it moved with a agility and speed the old woman would be hard pressed to match. Now the figure stopped and turned to glance behind her. Aislinn smothered a gasp. Even from this distance and in the shadow she knew the slim, bony face as Gwyneth’s.

Aislinn watched as the woman made her way deeper into the willows and straining she could see the shape of a man dressed as a peasant who met her in the shadows there. Words were exchanged between them before the man disappeared again into the denseness of the forest. Gwyneth waited in the shade for some time before picking her way back to the hall.

Glancing back over her shoulder to see that Bryce still slept, Aislinn hurried to call Bolsgar from the tower. As she waited for him to join her she paced before the hearth, wondering how she might tell him gently of his daughter.

“What be it, girl?” he asked when he faced her. “ ’Tis important that I watch for the traitor and I do not fully trust the watchman.”

Aislinn took a deep breath. “I know the traitor, good Bolsgar. I saw—” Then she blurted it out. “ ’Twas Gwyneth. I saw her meet a man by the swamp.”

He stopped and stared at her, the agony showing in his eyes. He searched her face for some hint of a lie and glimpsed only her own pain and sympathy for him.

“Gwyneth,” he breathed low. “Of course. She would be the one.”

“She will be here soon,” Aislinn warned him.

The father nodded, his mind grown distant. He went to stand before the fire with his broad shoulders sagging and stared into its depths.

Gwyneth swung open the door and strode in, humming to herself as if light of mood. She was almost striking with a rosy bloom upon her cheeks and her flaxen hair tumbling over her small bosom. Bolsgar swung to glower at his daughter from beneath beetled brows.

“What ails you, father?” Gwyneth chirped gayly. “Does your breakfast sit ill on your gut?”

“Nay, daughter,” he growled. “Another matter eats at my heart. One of a traitor who betrays her own kin.”

Gwyneth’s eyes widened and she swung to Aislinn. “What lies have you set in his head now, bitch?” she snarled.

“No lies!” Bolsgar roared, then he continued in a calmer voice. “I know you best of all and never in your life have you given care to ought but your own ends. “Yea! Traitor I believe. But why?” He turned his back upon her, for his eyes found little ease in beholding her. “Why do you aid a cause that will only bleed the life from our land? What friends you choose! First that Moorish boor Ragnor and now the Flemish!”

At the mention of Ragnor’s name Aislinn saw the other woman’s chin rise and a proud look come over her. At once everything seemed to settle in place and all of Aislinn’s questions were answered and she knew the cause of Gwyneth’s actions. She came out of her chair with a cry.

“ ’Tis Ragnor! He leads the raiders! Who else would know the land so well and where each cottage lay? ’Tis Ragnor she betrays us to.”

Bolsgar swung around and with a dark scowl on his face bore down on Gwyneth. “By God, I swear,” he ground out, “you have made this day the blackest of my life.”

“Blacker still than the day you found your precious son a bastard?” she sneered in his face and righteous pride rang in her voice. “You, he and that Saxon slut tore from me my last trace of pride. What was I here but a nothing in a hall where I should have been the lady? I was forbidden the right to answer the lies and slurs that were set to me by others. My own father chortled like a foolish babe when I was stripped of every—”

Bolsgar’s hand caught her full across the mouth and the force of the blow spun Gwyneth about until she staggered back against the table.

“Do not name me again your father,” he snarled. “I give lie to the fact and deny your kinship.”

Gwyneth braced her arms behind her on the table and glared at him with hatred burning in her eyes. “You love Wulfgar so much even though the world calls him bastard?” She rubbed the bruised cheek. “Then draw this day as long as you can, for the night will see him dead.”

Aislinn gasped at her words. “They set a trap for him. Oh, Bolsgar, they will draw him out and kill him!”

She crossed to Gwyneth, her eyes narrowing and her hand resting on the small dagger in her belt.

“Where, bitch?” she demanded, all trace of the gentle Aislinn flown. “Where or I will carve your neck until the breezes draw a tune from it.”

Gwyneth’s eyes flickered with uncertainty as she faced the other, remembering well Aislinn’s rage at things past. “ ’Tis too late to aid my bastard kin, so I will name the place. He may even now lay in the forest just outside of Cregan.”

She lowered her gaze from the two who glared at her and slid into a chair, folding her hands in her lap. Aislinn questioned her further while Bolsgar stared in disbelief at his daughter. When Gwyneth would yield no more Aislinn turned to him.

“Go to him, Bolsgar,” she begged in her distress, tears coming to her eyes. “Ride hard and warn him. There is yet time as he ventures slowly awaiting word.”

Without another glance to his daughter, Bolsgar snatched up his mantle and helm and hastened from the hall.

Wulfgar had left the hall and ridden out of sight to the west then swept around and joined his men. There was no haste and he flung riders wide to guard the flanks and search out any ambush. He dallied on the way, pausing often to scan the hills and the road behind.

The first hint of a rider was a small cloud of dust that rose to the rear and they halted to wait. Wulfgar’s brows lifted in surprise when he saw that it was Bolsgar who approached them. The old man reined to a skidding halt beside him.

“Ragnor leads the vandals,” he panted. “And it was Gwyneth who betrayed us. The Flemish set a trap for you at Cregan. Let us ride and I will give you the news as we go.

Wulfgar set spurs to his horse as Bolsgar began to relate the events at Darkenwald. The younger man’s brow had clouded and now as Bolsgar ended his tale, he rode in silence, musing on Gwyneth’s treachery. A column of smoke began to rise from beyond the forest and gave more weight to Bolsgar’s warning. When they came to the edge of the forest, Wulfgar halted the men. His commands rapped out in quick succession.

“Bolsgar! Sweyn! Stay with me. See to your arms. Gowain! Milbourne! Take half the men and ride deep in the forest. Place yourselves behind the spot and when you hear my call, charge with lance and sword. We will drive them to the open and see the game met there.”

The forest was quiet and eerie. It seemed the slightest noise echoed from every tree. Great oaks with moss festooned trunks stood on every side. Fallen trees blocked the way again and again, but above all the game had fled. There were no hares bounding to cover or birds singing or startled deer fleeing with graceful leaps. There was only silence and the men.

Wulfgar’s force rode away from the path and deep into the brooding darkness where only spots of sunlight dappled the shadows and lightened the gloom, Now they turned and paralleled the path until the light of the farther side could be seen and the ruins of Cregan were glimpsed through breaks in the brush. They turned again and went stealthily forward until they could hear the hushed murmurs of men ahead. The first charge would be with all men mounted and once the foe was flushed and in the open, the archers would dismount and hurl their barbs into the fray.