Page 23 of Saxon Lady

T heir arrival in London came much too soon for Mathieu. He dismounted in front of the king’s hall and was met by a guard.

“King William is away at Barking, my lord.”

Mathieu helped Aelia dismount, then approached the guard. “When is he expected back?”

“This evening, baron. There is a feast in honor of—”

“Mathieu!”

“My lord.” Mathieu turned to see Robert, Count of Mortain, coming down the steps. As brother to the king, he was richly dressed, but his finery seemed more conspicuous than usual. Mathieu stiffened at the sight of his own father, Autier de Burbage, equally well dressed, swaggering down the staircase as though he’d just returned victorious from battle.

“So…you managed to rescue the Saxon wench. Raoul de Moreton told us of your misfortune with Danish raiders,” Autier said.

“Aye,” Mathieu replied. “Does it surprise you that I made it back to London?”

“No,” said his father. “Only that you wasted your time and your life going after a Saxon woman.”

Robert motioned to one of the guards. “Take her to Billingsgate.”

Mathieu saw Aelia’s expression of panic. “My lord,” he stated, addressing Robert, “the lady had hopes of seeing her brother.”

“The lad brought here by Raoul?”

Mathieu nodded.

“They will most certainly be reunited,” Robert said with a laugh. He patted Mathieu’s back and propelled him toward the steps, where a crowd of Norman noblemen had gathered, many of them shouting greetings. Mathieu stopped short and turned to Aelia, even though his father’s critical gaze was upon him.

The guard had hold of Aelia’s arm, but his treatment was not unduly rough. Still, Mathieu had no intention of letting her go. “Lady Aelia will stay with me.”

’Twas Autier’s turn to laugh. “I think not, my dear Mathieu. She is the daughter of Wallis, is she not? The king will have his satisfaction for her father’s rebellion.”

“No! She—”

“Come, Mathieu,” said Robert, as two grooms removed the saddle packs and carried them into the hall. “Your peers await you.”

“Your pardon, my lord. I’ll join you shortly.”

Mathieu left the king’s brother on the step and caught up to the guard who had started to lead a very subdued Aelia away. Mathieu had no choice but to go with Lord Robert now, and he could not bring Aelia with him. But he would not leave her this way, afraid and uncertain.

Ignoring his father’s disapproval, he took hold of her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “All will be well, Aelia. I will find Osric and make this right.”

Aelia raised her head, but kept her gaze away from his. Witnessing her struggle for control, Mathieu released her and stepped back. He would not embarrass her here, before all these men, or make their parting any more difficult.

But he would find her as soon as he could get away from the king’s hall. King William would have to deal with them together. “You will answer to me for her treatment,” he said to the guard, who did not reply.

Robert, Autier and all the men who stood at the top of the stairs observed Mathieu’s actions with frank interest. But he offered no explanation when he rejoined them and stepped inside, where it appeared that a celebration of grand proportions was about to take place. Mathieu knew most of the men who had gathered in the hall. Among them were Simon de Vilot, the father of Clarise, and his own brothers, Geoffroi and Thierri.

The enormity of all that had happened hit Mathieu at once. He’d lost the men who’d traveled with him, all but Raoul, and the two who’d remained at Rushton. He’d gained Ingelwald, and the bride of his choice—the lovely Clarise de Vilot. All he had to do was claim her.

But the price was too high if he had to forfeit Aelia.

Billingsgate was not far. As soon as Mathieu had a chance to speak privately with Simon de Vilot, he would leave the hall and go in search of Aelia. Together, they could track down Raoul and Osric.

Then ’twould be necessary to petition King William for permission to wed Aelia. He would have no other wife.

Geoffroi clapped him on his back. “Lord of your own estates now, brother?”

Before he could reply, he heard his father’s voice be hind him. “I always told William he could count upon you, my son,” he said, a statement that Mathieu knew was untrue. His father had said naught of him to William, while he touted the prowess of Geoffroi and Thierri at every opportunity. Autier’s demeanor was one of haughty disapproval, even as he complimented him.

Mathieu did not mind. Their distaste for each other was mutual.

“We must drink to my son, the conqueror of Northumberland!” Autier called out, handing Mathieu a glass.

But Mathieu was uninterested in his father’s accolades. The highest lords of the realm drank to Mathieu’s success while he gritted his teeth. Somehow he would deal with the problem of his agreement with Simon de Vilot, and take Aelia back to Ingelwald with him. She would be his lady, and no other.

“May I have a few words with you, Mathieu?” asked Lord Simon.

Mathieu followed the man into the next room, where tables were being assembled for the feast. A number of Norman ladies and noblemen milled about near the fire, and Mathieu caught sight of Lady Clarise, talking and laughing in the midst of several young admirers.

Mathieu braced himself to deal with Lord Simon’s anger when he reneged on their agreement. He could not blame the man, but he would not go through with the marriage to his daughter.

“Let us go into the anteroom.”

A woman’s high-pitched laugh caught Mathieu’s attention and he looked back at Clarise. When their gazes met, the lady stopped laughing and her eyes skittered away nervously. More resolute than ever, Mathieu followed Clarise’s father into the next room, but kept his silence while the man lit several candles on the desk.

“I understand you were attacked by raiders on the road,” Simon said, his voice full of concern for the man who would soon be his son-in-law.

Mathieu nodded. “Danes. They’ve been harrying Norman holdings. ’Tis likely the king will need to deal with them soon.”

“How many days’ travel was it from Ingelwald to London?”

Mathieu answered this and many other questions as he considered the best way to withdraw from their marriage agreement. He decided the direct approach would be best, but was sidetracked once again by Clarise’s father.

“Do you know Martin d’Ivry?” Simon asked.

Mathieu nodded. “Aye. He has served the king nearly as long as I. Didn’t I just see him…”

“Aye. Talking with the ladies,” said Simon. “King William has given d’Ivry an estate near Windsor.”

Mathieu clasped his hands behind his back and paced the length of the desk. “He is fortunate, my lord.”

“’Tis very near London.”

“So it is,” Mathieu replied, barely concealing his impatience.

“Fitz Autier, I have some concerns about my daughter’s well-being on a journey all the way to Northumberland. And once there, the isolation of Ingelwald…”

“Aye. ’Tis a far-off place,” Mathieu replied, finally understanding the direction of this conversation. He suddenly felt as though a dark cloud had been lifted from his heart and soul. “Ingelwald is remote. The nearest estates are leagues away.”

Simon rubbed a hand over his face and looked away. “I am in a quandary, Fitz Autier. You see, my daughter…er, she is loath to live so far from…civilization. And d’Ivry has offered for her hand. Not to fault him—he was unaware of our agreement.”

“I see,” said Mathieu. His relief was palpable. “I understand your concerns, my lord. But you and I had an understanding, even though no documents were signed.”

“Aye. We did,” said Simon. Worry weighed heavily upon him, from the crease between his brows to the slope in his shoulders. He looked up at Mathieu. “I would barter with you, Fitz Autier. King William was so confident of your victory at Ingelwald, he has already named you its lord. There can be little else you desire, but for an old man’s peace of mind, try to think of something. I will use all my influence to convince the king to grant it to you.”

Mathieu stopped moving. “Agreed.”

Simon sank into a chair. “What then? Name whatever it is.”

“Ask the king to grant me one favor, as unconventional as it may be.”

Aelia did not understand why the guard had been ordered to take her to a house on the river, rather than Billingsgate—the place where Mathieu thought she’d be. She found herself more frightened now than she’d been with the Danes.

The tall Norman lord with dark blue eyes had changed the first lord’s order for some reason, and his penetrating gaze made her skin crawl. She jerked her arm from the guard’s grip and turned to speak to the man. “Please, sir,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “Will you see to it that Baron Fitz Autier is told where they’re taking me?”

The richly dressed lord stood silent, looking at her with frank curiosity. Then he gave a slight shake of his head and muttered a few words that Aelia could barely hear. Her heart shattered when she realized what he said.

“Rid the bastard of his Saxon whore.”

The guards took her away before she could react. These Normans had conquered her land, and she knew she could expect no mercy—except from Mathieu—but only if he could find her.

She’d asked the guards about Sir Raoul and Osric, but they did not answer her questions, nor would they agree to take a message to Mathieu. They left her at a grand house, where two more Norman guards locked her into a room.

Aelia struggled against her confinement, pounding on the door and shouting until her voice was hoarse, but no one returned for her. She’d been abandoned; now she was trapped.

The room was empty, but for a chair against the far wall, beside the window. Aelia pushed open the shutters and looked down into the street, but it was no means of escape. She was much too high to jump.

She wrapped her arms ’round her middle and leaned her back against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest. ’Twas hopeless. Mathieu had done what he’d been charged to do—bring her and Osric to London. She was at the king’s mercy now. Mathieu didn’t even know where to find her.

Aelia did not know how many hours passed while she sat in the cold little room. But guards finally came for her. ’Twas no reprieve. They tied her hands and took her down a dark staircase and out of the house. They crossed a courtyard encircled by a tall fence, and entered a smaller building. From there, she and a dozen other prisoners were loaded into a wagon and driven away from the yard.

With futile desperation, she hoped Mathieu would come for her.

But as the hour came closer to dusk, Aelia and the others arrived at a harbor where the largest boats she had ever seen were docked. And she suddenly knew her fate.

“Is this the sea?” she asked one of her fellow prisoners.

“No. ’Tis the river. But it leads into the sea. They’re taking us to France.”

Aelia could not breathe. If Mathieu had wanted to find her, wouldn’t he have done so before now?

“I cannot go! Let me off,” she cried, pushing her way to the gate at the back of the wagon. Mathieu might have forsaken her, but she would not do the same to Osric.

“Get back!” shouted the guard. He shoved her down, but Aelia scrambled to her feet.

“I must find my brother!”

The men unloaded their passengers and led them to the ship.

“Please! I was brought here to see your king. I demand—”

The Norman guards laughed in her face, then pushed her forward. “When the king returns, we’ll be sure to tell him you were here.”

It was some time before Mathieu was able to take his leave of King William’s brother and the rest of the gathering, and he was allowed to go only with his promise to return in time for the fete. He avoided his father and brothers and went directly to Billingsgate in search of Aelia, but she was not there.

“There must be some mistake. I heard Lord Robert’s orders to have her brought here!”

“Aye, my lord, but they were changed.”

Mathieu’s voice became low and dangerous. “Find me someone who knows where Lady Aelia was taken.”

All of Billingsgate’s knights scrambled to find an answer, but none had seen the lady. They’d only heard rumors of the comely Saxon slave brought by Fitz Autier from the northern country.

Mathieu mounted his horse. Surely Raoul would know where they’d taken her. He would also know where to find Osric.

There was an inn about a mile upriver where Mathieu and his men had lodged weeks ago, before leaving for Northumberland. Raoul had favored one of the Saxon serving maids there, and Mathieu had no doubt that was where he would find the knight.

He rode through the streets, passing several markets as he went in search of Raoul. When he finally reached the inn and went inside the noisy, crowded common room, he found Raoul coming down the main stairs.

Their parting after the Danes’ attack had been tense, but they embraced now as brothers. “I need your help,” Mathieu said.

“Mathieu, I offer my apologies for all I said. When they took your Saxon lady, I realized—”

“Let’s go outside.”

They pushed through the crowd and left the inn. Mathieu followed as Raoul circled ’round to the back of the building. “I need your help to find Aelia.”

“I knew I should have gone with you. When do we leave?”

“You don’t understand,” Mathieu said. “She is here in London.”

Raoul gave a low whistle. “You caught up to the Danes and rescued her?”

Mathieu nodded. “But Robert de Mortain’s guards took her into custody before I could stop them,” he said, regretting that he had not spoken up and prevented her detainment right then. “I was a fool to let them take her.”

“And defy Lord Robert? Mathieu, you might be on good terms with him, but he is the king’s brother.”

“Where would they have taken her?”

“Billingsgate.”

“No. I tried there.”

Raoul scratched his head. “Some prisoners are being taken to the king’s new fortress on the river, south of here. Mayhap she’s there.”

Mathieu’s sense of relief was fleeting when they arrived at the tower and spoke to the guards. They quickly learned Aelia had never been brought there.

“This is absurd,” said Mathieu to the knights on guard. “Lord Robert de Mortain ordered her taken to Billingsgate, yet she is not there. How can I find out who is in charge of the king’s prisoners?”

“That would be…your father, my lord,” the guard replied. “Baron Autier de Burbage.”

“My father?”

“Aye. Lord Autier has had the authority since his arrival in London a fortnight ago.”

Mathieu seethed with anger. Clearly, his father had changed Lord Robert’s order. For what reason, Mathieu did not know, but he could guess.

He and Raoul returned to their horses. “Where is Osric?” Mathieu asked.

“I kept him with me. He’s at the inn with the family who owns the place—they’re Saxon.”

“Raoul…I have no choice,” Mathieu said as his tem per boiled. “I must go to my father at the king’s hall while you keep looking for Aelia. Take her to Osric and tell her I’ll join her as soon as I can.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Raoul turned into a street heading north, while Mathieu went directly to the grand hall where he’d last seen his father. He knew he had put Raoul in an awkward situation, but it could not be helped. Besides, if Mathieu was not mistaken, he now outranked his father. Ingelwald was greater than any property Autier de Burbage could claim, and so were Mathieu’s victories in battle.

Autier had no right to decide Aelia’s fate.

Mathieu reached the king’s hall, but ’twas not the same composed, sedate crowd that greeted him earlier. William had arrived with a large entourage, and the place was filled with music, noise and jocularity. Mathieu saw the king in the center of it all, a tall figure making his way to the dais. There was clearly some celebration in progress, but Mathieu cared naught. He only wanted to find his father and learn what he had done with Aelia.

The king suddenly called out to Mathieu. “Join me here, Fitz Autier! Lord of Ingelwald!”

Mathieu gritted his teeth. He could not ignore William. For the first time in his recollection, he was being honored above his brothers, but he took no pleasure in it. He made his way through the throng of knights and ladies gathered in the dining hall, and joined the king and his closest advisors upon the dais. The rich bounty he’d found in the Danes’ saddle packs lay spread upon a low table nearby.

William silenced the throng and publicly congratulated Mathieu on his victories in Northumberland. “I grant you all of Ingelwald, Mathieu Fitz Autier, and name you earl,” said the king. “I expect a full accounting of your properties by the new year.”

“Thank you, sire,” Mathieu said, searching the crowd for his father. “You do me great honor.”

“Your exploits in Northumberland precede you,” William continued. “I would honor you above all others tonight. Allow us to grant you a king’s favor.”

Shooting a quick glance toward Simon de Vilot, who gave a slight nod, Mathieu spoke directly to the king. “As I have been released from my betrothal agreement with Simon de Vilot, I ask only that I be given Aelia of Ingelwald for my wife.”

“A Saxon lady?”

“Aye.”

“To bind Ingelwald more closely to you, Mathieu?”

Mathieu agreed. If the king wanted to believe ’twas diplomacy that dictated his actions, Mathieu would keep private what he felt for Aelia. ’Twould not be necessary to tell the king that he loved her more than his own life, although he would certainly do so if the situation demanded. He loved her, and he would tell her so, as soon as he discovered where his father had sent her.

“You are one of my most able commanders, and now I count you among my noblest lords, Mathieu of Ingelwald,” said William. “I grant you your request. Bring the lady forth, and wed her now, amid this company.”

“Sire, I cannot,” Mathieu said. “She is being held as prisoner….”

“Where? We can send men to rescue her.”

“I must find my father, sire, and ask him. He is her jailer.”