Windsong

by Allison Knight

  The woman Chelse claimed was tiny by comparison, delicate, where Sybil was of big bones and had the height of many of his men. Her voice was as large as her body. There was no innocence peering at him from her gray eyes.

  Not pleased with his thoughts, he stomped into the chamber and stalked toward the dais, calling for Owain. “There is much that needs to be done before I introduce you to the women,” he muttered over his shoulder in her direction.

  She swished her skirts, exposing the curve of her leg and trailed after him. He couldn’t decide if she was angered or attempting to seduce him with a glimpse of skin.

  Seduction, he decided as she curled her arms around his waist in an attempt to detain him. She whirled in front of him.

  “Why another woman? Am I not enough for m’Lord?” She fluttered her eyes at him and licked her bow shaped lips.

  For once her actions distressed him and he set her from him. “I have no time for this,” he said and realized he did not want to make time for her. The thought startled him, for he planned to take her to his bed shortly after he arrived.

  Owain ab Madoc, a good and loyal friend now also sworn to Edward, bounded into the hall. “You are back, m’Lord.” Owain’s voice boomed through the hall, ringing from the wooden rafters above them.

  Alwyn smiled at his countryman. Owain was Welsh through and through. He carried a heavy accent, his deep voice a match for his rugged appearance. Before Alwyn could respond, Sybil snarled something and slumped into a chair before the hearth.

  He ignored her and turned to question Owain. “Tell me the news of this place. Any difficulties to plague me?”

  “Nay, not a trace of a poacher nor a villager with a complaint. All is quiet.”

  Alwyn sighed with relief. It would not do for a problem of import to bring attention to the fact he was not in residence. He wanted no one to know of his trip to the southwest. Owain knew and understood why he acted against Chelse, that Chelse would know as well. But not yet.

  “Are you finished, m’Lord?” Sybil demanded.

  “Sybil, I have much to do. Can you not concern yourself with your own tasks while I see to mine?” Alwyn felt a bit of shame, for he found himself annoyed with her. Was his desire for her waning? Surely not, for she was a beautiful woman and skilled in the ways of pleasing him.

  She huffed away and Alwyn turned back to Owain. “Have any asked after me?”

  “Nay,” Owain assured him. “And I see you were successful but you have not one but two women with you. And this took more days than you thought. Was there trouble?”

  Alwyn explained what had transpired and how surprised he was when he first saw the woman, Milisent. “She has an innocence about her that’s intriguing.”

  Owain smirked. “Nay, she can not be innocent. It must be an act. She has been with him for nine summers and we know from the man you planted in his castle that she never left the place. And he did come to her, frequently.”

  “It seems he is trying to marry her off to one of his friends.” Alwyn frowned. “Why?”

  “Could it be he has decided to marry himself, but also wants her available to him?”

  “Aye, I thought ‘twas a possible explanation. It would be something he would think to do.” Alwyn grinned. “But I have her now, so whatever he planned can not happen. Let us discuss the business of the house.”

  ~ * ~

  Milisent sat on one of the benches in the chamber to which they had been assigned and frowned. The building had been a surprise. What had she expected? Certainly not this manor house which he appeared to command.

  She could tell the construction was new and she remembered something she’d heard Gilbert say in passing. Something about Edward busy building castles and structures all over England. So this man indeed answered to Edward. But so did Gilbert. She could not shake the suspicion Alwyn acted in accordance with Gilbert’s direction.

  Ella interrupted her thoughts. “M’Lady, I want to inspect this place. I had no idea he was so prosperous.”

  “Aye, I too would like to examine this house. But first there is something about which we must talk. I have thought much on something you said before I succumbed to that fever. Do you still think he does not know I am kin to Gilbert?”

  Ella nodded and Milisent continued, “Then you must use my given name. I can not say the why of it, but I think if he knew I was sister to Gilbert, it would not go well for me. Mayhap he would ransom me to the man Gilbert has chosen for me. I could not bear that.”

  Ella smiled. “Aye, ‘tis a worthwhile thought. So, it will be done as you wish. Now let us explore this place, for there is much to see.”

  They left their chamber and climbed the stairs to the kitchen, which was a hive of activity. The delightful scents of roasting meat reminded Milisent it had been a long time since she had eaten at decent meal.

  The cook and several servants stared as they passed into the well room and on to the buttery. Ella stuck her head around an opening and into the great hall.

  The chamber before them was whitewashed with two brightly colored tapestries depicting hunting scenes covering the north wall. At the far end, a hearth glowed with warming embers and beyond that the dais stretched along the east wall. Stone steps behind the dais lead to the second floor. Wooden benches lined the opposite walls and large wooden beams graced the ceiling. Milisent nudged Ella trying to move her toward the hall.

  But before she moved chaos erupted outside and two men dashed into the chamber.

  “M’Lord,” the tallest one said, doffing his cap and bowing before the dais. “You must come. The village.” He sounded winded.

  “What has happened?”

  Milisent peered around Ella’s shoulder to see to whom the loud, deep voice belonged. A dark, swarthy man with curly hair the color of a raven, stood beside the dais next to Alwyn. Was this the owner of this estate? Had she and Ella believed the wrong man master?

  “What say you? Explain.” Alwyn’s voice reached her. Nay, he was in command here. However, something about his tones reached deep inside her to speak to her soul. She gritted her teeth and started back to the chamber assigned to them. Thoughts of the time she spent on his horse, when they first left the castle sent more shivers through her body.

  She wanted to tell herself his words should cause her fear, nothing more, but she was honest, at least with herself. There was something about this man, his voice, even his very countenance, that caused feelings she had never before experienced.

  She almost laughed. Of course she had never experienced whatever it was that caused these sensations because she had never been exposed to men, save the servants at the castle, or the man Gilbert insisted she wed.

  That man, Baldwin Stanton de Bain, caused her only fear. He carried some height, but not as much as Gilbert. His clothing told of the fat that covered his body. His meaty hands disgusted her and the greasy hanks of dark blond hair that hung to his shoulders sickened her. His odor spoke loudly of few baths. His rotting teeth made his leering smile as disturbing as a drawing of the devil from the bible their priest used to teach her to read. The memory of de Bain’s attempted kisses only escalated her fear. She shuddered and Ella pushed her into the shadows.

  “‘Tis Gilbert come to take you back,” Ella whispered. “We must hide ourselves until the battle is finished.”

  “Nay, Gilbert could not have found us yet.”

  “Wait!” Ella grabbed her arm as Milisent started back the way she had come. “Aye, we know not if this is Chelse. But we must listen so we can prepare.”

  “Aye, we must know what caused such alarm.”

  The two men at the dais rushed from the room shouting to each other as they raced for the stairs leading to the courtyard, the messengers following close behind.

  Milisent slipped away from the door as servants ran past. She listened trying to understand the language they used to communicate with each other. None were speaking French, nor even English. This was guttural, a different tongue and she stare
d at the men racing past.

  To what country had Alwyn brought them? Had they somehow left England to enter a new and different land?

  Ella appeared as confused as she.

  “What tongue do they use?” Milisent asked.

  “Mayhap it is Welsh. I fear we should not ask, nor are there any here who can tell us what trouble stirs the village.” Ella turned toward the kitchens.

  “Aye, you have the right of it. They speak the language of the Welsh.”

  Milisent spun around to see a woman standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She was beautiful, with dark brown hair peaking through her caul and huge gray eyes. She carried more weight then Ella, but she had a charming smile. Her gown had been richly decorated and Milisent knew a moment of disgust. Alwyn said he had no lady wife. He had lied. But why did she care?

  She did not get a chance to explore the thought for the woman nodded to them.

  “You may go back to your chamber. The fire does not concern you.”

  Ella stepped forward. “Fire? Is the village on fire?”

  The word fire struck fear in the hearts of all who heard it. It was always devastating and once it started to burn, it consumed everything in its path.

  “Nay, not the village. Only the mill. Serves the fool right. Alwyn should not try to feed an entire village.”

  Milisent took a quick breath, an instant dislike churning through her. This woman, whoever she was, had no care for the villeins or serfs of the land. And she dared to call Alwyn a fool. Nay, this was no lady wife.

  “Ella,” she whispered and tugged at her companion.

  Ella said nothing as they retreated toward their chamber leaving the heartless creature standing in the doorway.

  “We can escape here now,” Milisent muttered. “It is the perfect time.”

  ~*~

  Exhausted and covered with soot, Alwyn slid from his horse and waited until all the men who had helped with the fire had entered the courtyard.

  “‘Tis my thanks I give you all. The mill can be working again in a short time. It is because of your labors we did not lose the entire building. Again, I give you thanks.”

  He started for the stairs, tired but pleased. His people had struggled against the flames and won. Only a portion of one wall would see new construction. Both the mill floor and the grading stone saw no damage. Rhys came toward him, a wide smile marking his face.

  “You had the right of it, m’Lord. They slipped from the house only a short time after you left. I returned them to their chamber.”

  “So, they did attempt escape.” Alwyn stopped.

  “Aye, they only got a short distance.” He chuckled then continued his report. “Mayhap I scared the older woman beyond her years, but the younger one, the one called Milisent, was only angered.” Again he grinned. “Aye, she was furious.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “I escorted them back to their chamber. They have not left that room since their return. I have only now left their doorway to greet you.”

  Alwyn, nodded, grateful he had stayed Rhys from helping with the fire to keep an eye on the women. A warrior’s instinct told him they might try to leave the house during the chaos.

  “My thanks. I have many to thank this day.”

  “They say you saved the mill,” Rhys said.

  Alwyn nodded. “All but one wall. Now I must cleanse myself.” He looked down at his garments and shuddered. The tunic was ruined. “I sent Owain off to organize a work force. The mill must be secured.”

  Rhys stepped aside and Alwyn made his way to the hall and up the stairs to his chamber. He was tempted to visit the captives but getting rid of the burnt odor clinging to his kirtle and braises took precedence. He gritted his teeth with frustration when Sybil blocked his way.

  “M’Lord, think you those women will stay here? They will try to leave again. Why not send them away? Then you’ll need no one to guard them.”

  Alwyn sighed. “Sybil, they do not concern you. They are here to stay for a time. Resign yourself.

  She shrugged and smiled. “As you will. But, come. You have an unpleasant smell about you.” She held her nose, indicating she objected to the scent of the fire. “I would help you bathe.”

  He followed her into his chamber and shed his filthy garments as she called for servants. In no time, he climbed into a steaming tub of water and began to relax. It would seem Sybil would accept the women without too much difficulty. He leaned back as she helped him with the washing, but for the first time since he brought her to his home, her touch had little effect on him. The reason was simple. He was over tired. Or so he told himself.

  He stepped from the tub and grabbed a drying cloth. “What I need now is a good meal and a long sleep. Can we not sup soon? I must seek my bed.”

  She looked disappointed but made no comment. In short order the meal was served and Alwyn sought his bed, alone. His sleep was not restful. Eyes as blue as a perfect sky, sparkling with intelligence and innocence, followed him in his dreams.

  For two days Alwyn gave himself the excuse he was not yet sufficiently rested to take Sybil to his bed. Of course, he had never had a problem with a need to rest before he enjoyed the pleasure of a woman. Mayhap exercising his revenge on Chelse had brought back memories of the tragedy in his marriage and destroyed a need for Sybil.

  Aye, with the kidnapping of Milisent, the scene of destruction he’d discovered when he returned to his keep from that long ago hunting trip played over and over in his mind.

  Bodies and blood had greeted him in his hall that winter afternoon. His wife’s body lay in the rushes, blood staining her tunic, her arms wrapped around her stomach as if to protect the tiny life growing there. Several servants remained who had enough breath to say what had happened and who had caused this slaughter.

  He buried Essylt and swore on her grave to seek vengeance against the sin done to them. Although his was an arranged marriage, he had affection for his wife. He would avenge her as well as restore his honor. But before he could act, there had been other raids against his brothers, which required his aid, then Edward’s declaration to take the family home, and the battle that followed. Aye, only now could he take his revenge.

  Several of his scouts remained at Fenton castle and would send word when his enemy arrived to find his bedmate gone and his castle sacked. He would only learn who was responsible when he paid the ransom. But the woman named Milisent would be gone from him forever.

  ~ * ~

  After their attempted escape was foiled, Milisent resigned herself to staying in the room. Alwyn would have to drop his guard before they could leave the house without raising suspicion. But she also needed to stay away from the master. For some reason, even the sight of him caused her to chill and then to heat.

  She blamed her reaction on fear. However, there was also a desire to be near him she didn’t want to question. Mayhap he had cast some kind of spell on her, for Ella seemed not at all affected by him.

  As the days passed Milisent found small tasks to occupy her time. She helped in the laundry to Ella’s disgust and even sought to aid the cook in some of the meal preparations.

  “You’ve no need to work like a servant,” Ella said.

  “I do not mind,” Milisent said. In truth, she didn’t want to spend any more time in the hall than was necessary. When she found herself close to Alwyn, his glance made her breath catch and his smile turned her stomach upside down. She did not want to think on it, so her answer was to avoid the places she suspected he would occupy.

  She had always liked to keep busy and despite the fact Gilbert kept her confined to his property, she took her place as his chatelaine without a word of objection. Fenton castle was her domain and even when he spent time there, she continued to see to the functioning of his home.

  He had commented once. “You will make de Bain a fine wife.”

  After his words, she stayed in her room for several days, until guilt at the discomfort of the servants forced he
r to leave her chamber and see to directing the many tasks no one had undertaken during her pout. For that was what it was. Gilbert had found the whole of it amusing, joking how she had behaved in a like manner when she had only six summers. She chose to ignore the comment and refused to talk to him for a time.

  While they toiled with Alwyn’s servants in the laundry, Ella noticed one of Rhys tunics had a tear and although Milisent still seethed from his halting their attempted escape, Ella offered to repair the garment. One of the other soldiers heard of Ella’s ability with a needle and asked if she would be willing to stitch the trim of his kirtle.

  By the end of the first week, Milisent gave up her laundry tasks and joined in the mending asked of them. Her only desire while at Throsle, was to stay away from him.

  On one occasion, when he passed her on the way to the great hall he grabbed her elbow to stop her, saying he intended no harm to either her or Ella. But his touch sent her heart pounding against her breast. His touch burned through the sleeve of her gown and she stepped away from him so he would release her arm. She could not allow him such liberties in the future.

  Ella noticed her reaction to their captor but then so did the woman called Sybil. Gossip among the servants told of Sybil’s anger, because, since Alwyn had returned with the women, he had not taken Sybil to his bed. The woman blamed Milisent. She listened to the servants’ whispers and after they retired to their chamber, she told Ella what she’d heard.

  “Nay, ‘tis not you. He has lost interest in her. That is all. Soon, he will find a husband for her and look for another to satisfy his manly urges,” Ella said, before they went to the hall for the evening meal.

  Milisent discounted her words. Ella paid little attention to gossip. Since they had been taken from Gilbert’s castle and Ella placed in Rhys arms, she and Rhys were close to becoming friends. Milisent was almost certain Ella’s comments about Alwyn and Sybil were things Ella had heard Rhys say.