Page 9 of The Conqueror’s Lady (The Knights of Brittany #2)

‘W hat the hell did you do to her?’ Brice whispered furiously, his voice kept low so others would not hear. Giles’s friend looked around to make certain no one stood near and then repeated his question. ‘What happened between you?’

‘Nothing happened, Brice. Now see to your duties,’ Giles ordered, hoping Brice would take his hint and stop asking anything more.

‘She looks like a dog that’s been kicked down, Giles. She did not even rise to my bait as we broke our fast. She has done nothing but insult my intelligence, my plans and my actions these last days since you asked me to watch over her and the work she does for you. And this morn, she arrives at table and will not even meet my eyes.’ Brice glared at him. ‘Nor yours.’

When Giles tried walking around him, Brice stepped the other way and blocked him there. ‘What did you do, my lord Taerford?’

Giles huffed out a breath and looked heavenward, praying for patience in dealing with his friend. ‘I pleasured her,’ he admitted.

Brice crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his gaze, watching Giles’s expression. ‘Against her will?’

‘Nay! I would do no such thing.’

‘And the problem lies…where?’ Brice asked, probing as a healer dug at a splinter.

‘She cried.’

Giles shook off his hold and walked out into the yard. There was much to do today and he really did not have the time to waste worrying over a woman’s tears in their marriage bed. He had not even forced himself on her and yet…yet. Brice caught up with him and they walked towards the stables.

‘I thought you were not going to bed her until you know if she is breeding or not?’

‘I did not,’ he answered. ‘But this was a simple bit of…?’ He could not think of the phrase so he waved Brice off. ‘I did not hurt her.’

‘Did you frighten her?’

That question brought him to a halt. Was that the problem? Had the response of her body to his touches and kisses frightened her? If so, did that mean she was innocent? Certainly she was inexperienced, that much was clear to him. He would swear on his mother’s soul that what had happened to her last night, under his hand, had been the first time she’d reached sexual release.

He glanced over at his friend, who stood waiting for his answer as though she were under his protection. ‘I may have. But why is this of concern to you? Have you nothing better to do with your time here than to plague me with questions about my bedplay?’ He crossed his arms and glared at his friend. ‘I wish Soren was here now for he could entertain you with stories of his exploits and you would leave me in peace over this.’

‘You asked for my help to watch over your wife, Giles, and to discover if she is still in league with Edmund. Work with her, you said. Judge her worthiness, you said. Discover if she is a traitor to you or a spy for your enemies, you said. I do not do this for the amusement, my lord. The work of a reeve and steward are more than I wish to do.’ Brice crossed his arms over his chest matching Giles’s own stance and glared back.

Truly, though Brice did not serve him, he had been invaluable during the attack to chase the rebels from Taerford and in these first few weeks of trying to organise the people and lands now his. He but waited on the king’s word and the king’s men to continue on to what would become his fief, Thaxted, in the north. And they both waited on news of Soren’s recovery from his battle wounds.

‘Your pardon, my friend. I did ask for your help. And your service has been very useful to me. It is just that this is a private matter, between the lady and myself.’ He realised the falseness of his words as soon as he said them.

‘Not learned that lesson yet, have you, my friend?’ Brice replied sarcastically.

And, as if to prove the point, the very subject of their discussion made her way out into the yard and towards where they stood, stopping along the way to speak to some of the men working there. The part that made Brice’s point in the argument again was the way everyone there looked first to the lady and then at him and back to her again. It seemed they all thought her in some way injured or mistreated…by him. He looked at Brice and hung his head in surrender.

Brice clapped him on the back. ‘Their lady is an innocent, raised amongst them and the one thing standing between them and their new invading Norman lord,’ he began.

‘Breton,’ he corrected.

‘It matters not to these people. She stands for them and you rejected her on your wedding night.’

‘I did not reject her,’ he tried to explain, but Brice stopped him.

‘You have not bedded her and they know it. But you gave them hope when first you saw to their protection and then when you asked for her help. They believe that they could survive with you. Now, this morn, they only know that something ill transpired between the two of you and they take her side.’ Looked at from that eye, Brice was correct.

‘I think it will take no more than a week before I know for certain. Either the lady bleeds or…’

‘She approaches now.’ Brice turned to her. ‘Have you told her that you are leaving?’

‘Nay. Though I wish to see her mood lighten, I have no wish to see the joy in her expression at the news.’

Brice laughed then, long and hearty, drawing attention.

‘You will not find the transition from foreign bastard knight to lord an easy one either, Brice. I wish I could be there to see how you fare when faced with these very same problems.’

‘I intend to learn from your errors, Giles.’ Brice nodded to the lady. ‘Do you seek me or your lord husband, Lady Fayth?’ he asked in a louder voice.

She came to stand before him and yet did not raise her eyes to meet his. ‘I did not know if you had asked Lord Giles for permission to go to the village, sir,’ she said to Brice.

‘Why do you wish to go to the village, lady?’ Giles asked. ‘You can speak your request to me.’

Her veil covered her head and her hair and wrapped around her neck, keeping everything he liked most from his view. He realised that this Saxon clothing covered its women from head to toe, showing little difference in a stout figure like Emma’s or a slender one like the lady’s. Mayhap Simon’s wife could be prevailed upon to send some of the dresses she wore to Fayth? The more form-fitting style appealed to him.

He brought his gaze back to the veil, for it was all he could see of her until she raised her head a little. The white fabric also brought out the dark circles still under her eyes. At least she would sleep well while he was gone these next few days.

‘I, we, my lord, have taken inventory of all supplies and foodstuffs in the keep and the other manor buildings, but my father stored much of the produce, wool and weaving in the village. I need to go there to…’

He watched her as she spoke but all he thought of was the night before when she’d writhed under his touch. He wanted to see the flush of sexual arousal on her cheeks and to see the way her eyes gleamed when she cried out her release. He wanted to see her smile once more.

‘Brice can do that,’ he offered, now concentrating on her words and not his fantasies.

Brice’s continued glare told him of his failure to do it well. The lady was more valuable than all of the supplies or stores in the keep and village and he could not afford to let her out of the safety of the keep’s walls. ‘I would not have you exposed to the dangers outside these walls, lady. I want you to stay here until my return.’

Fayth did look up then, startled by his words. ‘You are leaving, my lord?’

‘ Oui. Aye. The king has granted me lands and I must ride the borders to see the extent of them. The map I have is only the most rudimentary and tells me nothing of their conditions or uses.’

‘I could tell you that, my lord. I have ridden these lands since I was a child.’ He did not know if her offer was to help or to keep him from going out onto the lands beyond the manor and village.

‘The king granted me your father’s lands and more, lady. My property includes eighty hides of land.’

She gasped at the size of it, for it was more than double her father’s property. ‘But Lord Leofwyne owns the land to the north and east of these lands,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘He fell in battle, lady. His lands are forfeit to the duke.’ Giles had spoken the words softly, but their effect was as though trumpeted throughout the keep. She paled before him.

‘How many others? How many Saxons were killed by your Duke William?’ she cried out. She’d only just begun to think on such things, lost in her own battle not to accept the pleasure he offered, but now, with his declaration about the extent of his reward for battle service, she needed to know.

He grimaced before answering her, so she knew the number would shock her. His expression became flat, his eyes dull and his lips tightened in a thin line across his face.

‘Close to four thousand, lady. So far as could be told, all of Godwin’s sons. Harold’s housecarls fought at his side and perished. The great earls of Mercia, Sussex, Wessex, Kent and East Anglia. Many more that I cannot put a name to.’

His voice carried no gloating tone and she thought she could hear sympathy in his words and that surprised her. ‘And their lands and people are given away?’

‘The duke has the right,’ he began, but then he stopped and did not try to justify the actions.

Fayth could not comprehend the amount of devastation caused by this single battle, except that life in England was changed for ever by it. Her stomach churned at the thought of never seeing uncles, cousins and other kin again. And how did the women fare without their men to provide for and protect them? Surely not all Saxon lords had daughters to use to le gitimise the gifts from the duke and to cement the invaders to their conquered peoples.

From Edmund’s words, she believed that many Saxon lords still lived and were gathering in the north to push the Normans out of their country. He mentioned that the witan voted Edgar the Atheling as king and that support was growing throughout England for him.

Horrified that she’d been sitting here, safe in the keep and succumbing to the pleasures of the flesh with this man while not knowing the truth of her people’s, the Saxons’, fate shamed her. And not being brave enough to face her captor, be he husband or not, and to find out filled her with resolve. Her shame became her strength and she asked the question that had haunted her days and nights. The one that would either give her hope or ruin any chance of living in peace with her husband.

‘Did you kill my father to gain these lands?’

Giles knew no good answer to her question, but he would not lie to her in this matter either. He’d like to, especially since her face now grew deathly pale, very different from the recent glow that was taking hold there. She clutched her hands so tightly before her that they grew white from lack of blood.

‘I may have, lady.’ He ran his hand through his hair and looked away for a moment as a certain despair filled him. ‘I may have.’

When she stumbled and would have fallen, he stepped next to her and put his arm around her waist to support her. She would have pulled free, but he held her easily and began walking towards the keep with her.

‘Brice, call all who were high in Lord Bertram’s regard or held places of honour at his table to the hall.’ Before Brice could question his intentions, he called out again. ‘Bring any of Lord Bertram’s men-at-arms who remain in my service there as well. Send word to the village for those who owed service to the old lord to come now to the keep.’

He did not slow his pace, but held on to the lady and half carried her with him. He cursed himself for not handling this as soon as he’d taken control, but he had believed it was not necessary. Now, he could see in hindsight that it was far too late. Giles had thought to protect the lady from the harsh realities wrought by this war and the one her king had fought just before it, but he must right the effects of that faulty decision.

Entering the keep from the back, he continued on through to the hall, gathering a crowd of those working as he dragged their lady with him. Reaching the large table, he pulled out one of the chairs and placed her in it. Crouching in front of it, he took her chin in his fingers and turned her so that she faced him.

‘Lady?’ When she did not meet his gaze, he shook her face gently and spoke again. ‘Fayth?’

This time when she did look at him the grief and pain there were nearly too much for him to gaze upon.

‘I do not know if your father fell under my sword or my bow. In battle it is sometimes impossible to know.’

Tears filled her eyes again and she blinked several times before replying. ‘And is that to soothe my conscience or yours, my lord?’ she asked in an empty voice.

‘Neither,’ he said with a shrug. ‘A warrior recon ciles himself to the necessities of war before he enters. No man goes into battle or war without knowing that he will cause many deaths even as someone else tries to cause his. I simply tried to tell you the truth.’

Noticing the people gathering in the hall, he stood back and ordered Emma to see to her lady. He watched as the maid forced her to drink a sip of wine and then called Roger to his side to explain his intentions. Roger accepted his orders and left to arrange the men as he’d directed. Brice…Brice stood as always at his back whether he agreed or not with his decision.

Giles accepted a cup of wine from one of the servants and thought over the words he would use to set out his plans for Taerford and its people.

Edmund gave the signal to hold. Something was amiss here.

As they watched from the cover of the forest the Normans began rounding up all the villagers and herding them to the keep.

It was rushed.

It was forced and no one was permitted to remain behind.

Not a good sign of the new lord’s intentions.

‘What do you think he is doing?’ William asked.

Edmund watched as the villagers made their way down the road to the keep, their fear evident in the way they walked and the glances they threw back at their homes. Would Edmund and his men be betrayed to the Norman? Many were aware of their excursions into the village to seek supplies that Edmund knew were stored there, but would any of them reveal that knowledge?

He dared not move closer now; the absence of most of the villagers would not shield such movements. With a wave and signal, he led his men back through the forest, along the river to their camp.

He’d hoped to get word about Fayth for he’d not heard much of her welfare until just days before. Apparently injured during the attack and kept prisoner in her chambers until just five days ago, she had been forced to the chapel by the Norman and taken in marriage against her will. Edmund could only imagine the perversions forced on Lord Bertram’s innocent daughter by the Norman knight who claimed her and her lands.

The one who’d killed Lord Bertram at Hastings.

Once he spoke to the leaders of the other troops and received word from King Edgar, he would come up with a plan to rescue the lady…and bring her to his side. Through her, he could reclaim the lands that should be his, the lands Bertram had promised him if he kept Fayth safe from the invading forces.

And whether, in the end, he decided to take her in marriage himself or give her to a faithful vassal, removing her foreign husband would be the easiest part of the plan.

They’d travelled only a few miles towards their camp when a man reached them with the news that the villagers were back and all alive and apparently well. Curious to discover what had happened, Edmund ordered his men back towards Taerford village.