The ladies who lived in the manor house were the wives and daughters of Lord Athelstan's knights. Lady Adela was relieved that her husband was off on patrol at the moment. She had a delicate nature and much preferred dressmaking to the arts of pleasing a man, especially one as demanding as her husband. Lady Emma, on the other hand, missed her knight sorely, and counted the days until his return to her. She felt incomplete and unprotected without a male close by. She was racked with anxiety for her husband's safety and pushed out of her mind thoughts of invasion and war. Once again, afraid he had left her with child, she decided she must make a visit to Morag's hut. Morag was a crone who lived alone and practiced all the teachings of the "old" religion. She was the daughter of a warlock, and it was whispered that she was a witch. She dealt in horoscopes, spells, dream interpretations and potions. In return, the villagers left her a squirrel or rabbit they had snared.
"Lady Alison, may I be excused? I am feeling unwell," begged Lady Emma.
"Of course, Emma," said Lady Alison graciously. Alison wished Emma would confide in her. She knew everything there was to know about herbal remedies, but no, the woman would visit the old crone and get some vile concoction that would cramp her bowel cruelly. Ah well, she couldn't set the world aright single-handedly, she laughed at herself.
Emma hurried through the village to a familiar hut, set slightly apart from the others. She wanted to be back at the hall before the approach of dusk. A man waited outside.
"Is Morag busy?" Emma asked the peasant.
"Go in, go in, my lady. It's only my lad. He stutters terrible. We've come for the cure."
Emma lifted the doorflap and entered quickly. Morag was giving a peasant woman careful instructions. "Boil this in rainwater. Make him drink it from a bell."
The woman looked blank "Where will I get a bell, Morag?"
"Brainless!" admonished Morag. "Your man is a cowherd. Use a cowbell."
The woman handed her two small wheaten cakes in payment and hurried off.
Morag's shrewd hooded eyes studied Emma unblinkingly. "Your courses are late again."
It was a statement rather than a question. Emma nodded, amazed at Morag's powers of divination. Morag took down a rush bag from the wall and selected a root from it.
"Bruise this root, then boil it in mead."
"Oh, Morag, thank you. You are so wise." Emma gave her an egg she had saved from breakfast.
Wiser than you, thought Morag. 'Tis only the root of a common fern. You could pick it yourself without coming to me every month.
Emma hesitated. "I have heard that you know about horoscopes, Morag."
The crone nodded.
"It's my husband. I fear greatly for him."
"What month was he born?"
"ln November."
"Ha! Under the sign of the Scorpion," said Morag cryptically. "Come tomorrow." She dismissed her. In her wisdom she knew another visit meant another payment. She held up her hand. Her tame magpie, called Greediguts, flew down for a piece of the wheaten cake. "Silly Emma," laughed Morag, "when you come tomorrow I will tell you any man born under that sign is a lone man. He is utterly selfish, will always put himself before you, and when you have ceased to be useful to him, he will put you aside."
Chapter 2
Harold's army had been protecting Winchester and Southampton and all along the southern coast. His ships had been waiting off the Isle of Wight all summer for the Normans when the surprise news came that the Norwegians, led by Hardrada, had invaded the Humber. Harold gathered his army and immediately marched north. He had left behind a small force of knights who owed him military duty, but who were not regular army. This force was to keep a watch and beat off any landing parties.
Athelstan and Wulfric and their knights were among these, but by the seventh day of September their supplies had completely run out. Even fodder for the horses was totally depleted, and they planned on returning home on the morrow.
William of Normandy was obviously not coming. It had just been a false alarm, and the harvest at home was a much more pressing matter. The men, bored with their long vigil, had taken to gambling every night, and there were always plenty of camp followers available.
Wulfric clapped Athelstan on the back in a familiar manner and said, "I've got two plump wenches for us tonight, our freedom will be over all too soon, eh?"
The older man looked surprised. "How did you manage that without money, Wulfric?"
"Easy! I just promised them a place at home. Protection and a regular place at board is very tempting in these times, and we'll be off tomorrow before they awake and find the birds have flown," he laughed.
Athelstan frowned, "I dislike giving my word and then breaking my bond. What harm would there be in acquiring two more serfs?"
"Perhaps our ladies would not take kindly to the idea," Wulfric pointed out.
"Alison would see through them at a glance. I think you have the right of it this time," Athelstan laughed.
Saturday noon saw the two companies of knights arrive at Godstone, and there was a great flurry of activity as all were reunited. Wulfric told his men they would stay the night and go home to Oxstead on the morrow. The horses were stabled, and all the armor and weapons were taken to the armory behind the communal sleeping quarters to be cleaned by the squires. Up on the wall went the chain mail and helmets, along with battle-axes, hatchets, swords, shields and spiked balls, commonly referred to as morning stars. The men were hot, dirty and saddle weary, and they all went down to the river to bathe. Lord Athelstan and Wulfric went to the bathhouse, where large wooden tubs were filled with hot water and the maids from the hall assisted.
As Lady Alison soaped her husband Athelstan's back, Wulfric said, "My bride did not greet me, nor does she help me bathe. I greatly desire her company, my lady. Why does she hide from me?"
"Lillyth is having a new gown fitted. She will sup with us this evening, Wulfric, have no fear. She wishes to appear at her best for you, my lord; you know how it is with young girls these days."
He grunted his disappointment and silently vowed to be alone with her later in the evening.
As soon as the meats were cooked, the feast got under way. Saxon fires were in a pit in the center of the hall and trestle tables were arranged around its perimeter. This evening extra tables were set up to accommodate the knights from Oxstead, and the ale flowed freely because the men had been on short rations for the past few weeks. The sultry weather, combined with the heat from the cooking fires that had been blazing all afternoon, made the hall stifling. This, however, did not seem to detract from the festive air.
Lillyth chose a pale blue silk kirtle and matching tunic, and she deliberately waited for her mother and father and descended to the hall with them.
Wulfric quickly detached himself from a group of his own men and came to the bottom of the steps to greet her with a hearty kiss.
His beard scratches me, thought Lillyth, and was immediately ashamed that she hadn't minded Aedward's beard. She looked into Wulfric's eyes and tried to be sincere. "Welcome, my lord. It is good to know we are safe from our enemies for another year."
She saw his eyes greedily stripping the thin silk robes from her body and almost recoiled from the hot, raw lust she saw in them. Instead of drawing back, she lowered her dark gold-tipped lashes to her cheeks and held out her hand for him to escort her to her rightful place at the head table. She was seated between her father and Wulfric, whose eyes never left her.
God damn the bitch, he thought, so cool, so remote, she always manages to make me feel like a clumsy oaf. Wait, just wait, he vowed silently and licked his lips.
The noise in the room was deafening. There were many attractive serving wenches; and some of Athelstan's wedded knights had their wives with them, but most of the men's eyes fell on Lillyth. One of Wulfric's men said to his fellows, "One night between her thighs, that's all I'd ask, just one night."
His fellows guffawed and winked at one another. One said, "You mean one minute
Lillyth nervously spoke the first thing to come into her head, as she wished to avoid the subject that so obviously thrust itself between them.
"The king has taken the army north, I hear?"
Wulfric laughed sardonically. "Two fools!"
"Fools? Two, my lord?" she ventured.
"William, because he has missed the good weather for this year and won't chance the gales of October."
"And the other fool?" she inquired politely.
"Why, Harold of course," he pointed out. "While he looks to Normandy, it is Norway that attacks!"
After searching his mind for something polite to say to Lillyth in the presence of her parents, Wulfric began, "So next Saturday the chains of wedlock are to bind us together, my lady."
"Oh no, my lord, not next week. That is not possible." She was totally taken off guard, although she hid her turmoil well.
Always in complete control, the cool little bitch, he thought.
"Why not?" he demanded.
"The arrangements have been planned for after the harvest is in. There are so many preparations." She tried to smile apologetically.
"I will allow you two weeks from this night," and his brows drew together as he awaited her rebuff and further delaying tactics that he knew would come.
Lillyth turned quickly to her father and deftly drew him into the conversation. "Father, you know we always have a hunt after the harvest is in, and then you give a big feast for all, including the peasants?"
He nodded his agreement.
"Mother and I thought that would be a perfect time for the wedding. It would certainly prove less costly for you, my lord."
Her father looked at her affectionately. 'Whatever you wish, child."
Wulfric looked at her and said baldly, "When?"
Her mind raced ahead to the calendar, and she quickly assessed that the most time she could bargain for was three weeks.
"On the thirtieth day of September, my lord, and it please thee?" she said sweetly.
A slow grin crossed his face, now that he had at last pinned her down; "It pleases me," he whispered low, and his hand went down to her thigh under the table. She edged closer to her father, but he arose from the table and joined his men at the far end of the hall to make plans for the gathering of the crops. Her eyes searched desperately, and spotting Wulfric's squire, she bade him refill his lord's drinking horn. Surely this ploy would occupy his hands. As his squire poured the frothy ale, Wulfric's other hand came up and lightly patted the boy on the cheek. Lillyth thought in her innocence, He is kind to children, perhaps I blind myself to his good points deliberately.
He removed his hand from her thigh, and as he did so they both saw at the same time that he left a dirty, greasy handprint on the delicate blue silk. She glanced at the mark with unconcealed distaste, and he was embarrassed that he had not wiped the grease of the meat from his hands before touching her.
Untouchable— she acts as if I've defiled her, he thought wildly, and by Christ I will defile her, if it's the last thing I do.
As soon as opportunity permitted, Lillyth made her excuses and retired for the night. Wulfric's men all wanted to toast him, and the entire company became rowdy and drunk before the hour was too advanced. Wulfric slyly watched for his opportunity. Lady Alison retired finally, and he relaxed slightly at the thought that the fierce watchdog wasn't marking his every move.
He slipped up the stairs and entered Lillyth's chamber without knocking. She was seated on a low stool in her thin underdress, and. Edyth was brushing out her beautiful hair, which hung to the floor. He lowered a cruel glance at Edyth and jerked his head toward the chamber door. She dropped the brush immediately and flew, leaving Lillyth to face him alone.
"My lord, it is not seemly that you visit me thus!" she breathed.
"Are we allowed no time alone together? Am I not to woo thee as a lover is wont to do with his bride?" he demanded.
"My lord, forgive me, I have no experience of marriage as you have." She was contrite immediately, "Oh, forgive me, Wulfric, I did not mean to remind you of the pain you must have suffered at the loss of your wife in child-bed."
He waved his arm as he came closer. "Put them out of your mind, girl, I never think of them."
Poor lady, thought Lillyth sadly.
'Perhaps God will bless us with a son for the one snatched away so cruelly," she ventured nervously. She was contemplating whether she should retreat or attack if his advances became suggestive.
He took a handful of her hair and removed it from where it lay across her breast, and his eyes fastened greedily on her nipples protruding through the thin silk. His breath grated hoarsely with desire. "I can get brats aplenty, Lillyth. I want you for fancy."
The chamber door opened without ceremony, and Lady Alison simulated shocked modesty at the sight of him. Edyth had lost no time informing her mistress where Wulfric had ventured.
"My Lord Wulfric, I cannot believe my eyes that you would so dishonor my daughter's reputation," she gasped.
"Nay, madam. Lillyth, tell your mother that we desire only to speak together. It is your desire as well as mine that we should know each other better."
"Speak not to me of desire, sir, for I know where it leads. Nay, not another word. You will leave this chamber immediately and I will forget what I have seen." Lady Alison glared at him until he had no choice but to retreat or make a terrible scene, but silently he added to the score that Lillyth would be made to settle on the last day of September.
The men, women, and children of the fief of Godstone were all in the fields next morning in a majestically interwoven pattern to gather the harvest. It was a strong system, close-knit, based on the land. Each peasant was entitled to eight pounds of corn, a sester of beans, and one sheep, so the harvest was a considerable size. The crab apples had been picked from the orchard, and Lady Alison was supervising the making of jelly, which was placed in casks and sealed with beeswax. Men scythed the cornfields and the hayfields and the women and children gathered the crops into bundles and bound and stacked them against one another, until the men collected the bundles on great wagons pulled by oxen. There were many different crops. Rye and wheat for the bread. Oats and barley for the animal fodder and beer making. The washhouse was a busy spot this morning also. The knights had brought back all their chainses, or shirts, and their chausses, or woolen tights. Strings of wash were strung out past the kitchen gardens and into the orchards. Linen kirtles and head scarves and fine linen sheets were all washed while the weather stayed warm and sunny.
Saxon England at this harvesttime was filled with earthly riches and delights. It was a kingdom whose generous earth produced bountiful harvests of grains and fruits. On every side it luxuriated in fruitful fields, verdant meadows, wide plains, fertile pastures, milky herds and strong horses. It was watered by bubbling springs, rising streams and majestic rivers, and its watercourses teemed with fish and fowl. Abundant groves and forests covered the hills and there were chestnut woods abounding in game. England was like a jewel glittering in the sea, and it was a jewel ripe for plucking.
Lillyth called Edyth into her chamber. "Why don't we go out into the fields today, Edyth. I love this time of the year when everything is most beautiful. All the peasants sing in the fields and the young people have so much fun laughing and teasing. I know they are working, but they enjoy it so much it seems more like playing," she said. "Lend me a plain gown so I may go about without attracting attention, and I'll ask mother what herbs and plants we can gather for her medicines. Hurry!"
She had such a sense of urgency that if she didn't grab the short time that seemed left to her and wring the utmost pleasure from it, it would be gone forever.
The girls set out with large baskets. They had plaited their hair and wore plain white head coverings and serviceable brown linen tunics. The grass glowed with diamond droplets of moisture from the heavy dew as they ran over tussocks of rough grass and wild thyme to the brook where Lillyth gathered dove's-foot for her mother.
"Isn't dove's-foot a quaint name?" she asked Edyth.
"There's oxeyes blooming over there, that's another odd name," answered Edyth.
"Flowers do have funny names, when you think about it. There's goats-beard and mouse-ear," laughed Lillyth.
"I know one funnier than any of them. The serfs call these dandelions piss-a-beds, I wonder why?" The girls went off in gales of laughter.
"They are supposed to bring down water from the bladder when it has stopped, that's where it gets its vulgar name," laughed Lillyth.
They came to a cornfield that had still to be harvested. The corn was bowed down before the wind, and the sun-drenched mellow light of autumn made the lines of earth and sky softer, almost melting into each other. Edyth gathered blue cornflowers, and Lillyth started on the poppies. She caught small wafts of perfume as the wind touched their petals, and the disturbed butterflies flitted away. They sat to rest for a moment under the hedge at the side of the field, in the lovely deep grass, and Lillyth thought, The beauty of the earth removes the shadow from my dark spirits.
They heard voices through the hedge, and Lillyth quickly put her finger to her lips to silence Edyth. They listened and heard a youth talking to a maid.
"Faith, we won't need to meet in the fields much longer; our hut is almost built."
"Morgan, I love you so much!" she replied. "But shouldn't you be tending the swine?"
"I traded jobs today because I knew you would be harvesting. Edmund said he was too old to break his back scything corn. He offered to tend the swine in the forest, but I had to promise to relieve him before dusk falls. It's funny how most are afraid of the forest. I'm so used to it, I love it. The floor is rich with pannage from acorns and beech mast."
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