Mistress to the Norman Lord

by Maria Ling

  "Haven't I? You'll come out on rides with me from today. Let me show you the full extent of the land I manage." He stared her down, challenging, but the smile that played around his lips betrayed him.

  "But you don't know how to work," Aelfid argued. "I do. And I can't sit here stitching while Mother - ."

  "I'll send her a couple of men to help," Guy said. "That should be fair payment for taking her daughter away."

  "Men don't know how to clean house and wash clothes."

  "Don't they? Must be carrying women in their belts, then. I don't keep men who can't work."

  Aelfid regarded him with deep suspicion. "Your men do all the women's work as well as their own?"

  "Here in the castle? Yes. Out on the estate, no. But you'd know more about that than I do."

  She did indeed. And in truth, she missed home. Missed that sense of being essential to the welfare and happiness of those she loved.

  With sudden clarity, she remembered that moment - years ago now - when she stood by the side of the road, clutching flowers in her hand, and watched for a man who never came home. She'd looked up at her mother, seen the grief and despair on that beloved face, and felt as if all her world lay shattered.

  Aelfid had offered up the crumpled flowers, seen them for the poor useless things they were. And she had promised herself that such an expression would never cross her mother's face again. That Aelfid would always be there, to work and love and protect and support. That her mother would never have cause to miss the husband who did not return.

  "My family needs me," Aelfid said.

  "They'll manage."

  "They won't." Aelfid groped for words. She could not speak the truth to him; he would not understand. "You don't know what it's like to live the way we do. Only together can we survive. God has been kind to us. But we must earn that kindness, each and every day."

  Oh, she had dreamed of lazy hours, too often to count, when the work got too dreary or painful or hard. Of course she had. But the reality was entirely different from what she had imagined.

  Guy shook his head. "If you wish to see your family, and ensure that they are well, I can arrange that. We can ride over there together, if you like. But do not speak of leaving me. I don't want you to go."

  "I am a daughter and a sister," Aelfid said. "I am valued. I am loved." She swallowed. The word was out now, and it hung lifeless in the air between them. She went on hurriedly: "I have to be where I belong."

  "You belong with me," Guy said quietly, in a low voice unlike his own.

  "No." It hurt her to speak, but this was truth, and it was important. "Not really. Any other girl can do what you want me to do here. But I am the only one who can be me, and that's what matters to my family. Which is why I need to be with them, and not with you."

  An empty silence hung over the room. Then Guy slowly crossed the floor towards her, and gathered her into his arms. "No other girl could do what you do here. With me, and for me." He clutched her tighter; she could feel the heat of his body against hers. "And to me."

  He leaned down to kiss her, lingered with his mouth against hers. Aelfid reached up to caress the back of his head, his bare neck, his strong broad shoulders.

  "I don't want anyone else," Guy whispered against her lips. "It has to be you."

  She was tempted. Intensely, with a desire that tore through her body and left her shaking. But she knew the truth, and it was cold and inexorable as the onset of winter.

  "I can't stay here," she whispered in return.

  "You can." He raised his head to look at her, with an odd expression that made a quiver of fear grow in her belly. "If I command it."

  She was his prisoner, in truth. His to keep if he chose, for as long as he chose. And she had chosen that state, she could not deny it now.

  "Let me see my family," she pleaded. "At least see them, and know that they are well."

  He trailed a strand of her hair between his fingertips. Considered, while she waited breathless for his answer.

  "Yes, I suppose so." His tone was light still, as if he granted a mere casual favour.

  Aelfid willed herself to feign calm. "Can we go today?"

  Guy stared at her with hardening eyes. "I had made other plans, but - " A grim expression settled over his face. He looked every bit a lord, and truly frightening. "There is at least one thing you might like to see for yourself. Yes, we can go today."

  ***

  CHAPTER 5

  Aelfid shifted in the saddle. It had not been too uncomfortable at first, no worse than balancing on a wobbly stool. After the first shock at being seated so high up, she had relaxed into the rhythm of the horse's walk, and even taken the time to enjoy watching the countryside around her. She'd not paid much attention to it before, what with her mind full of worry and her ears full of the muttered oaths of the knight who held her. The same man rode ahead of her now, in murmured conversation with Guy.

  Who frightened her, in this new strange mood of his: a cold ferocity that made her quail. Men killed in that mood, she felt certain. And when a lord turned to killing, the result could be devastation for all those who lived under his rule.

  But he wasn't angry with her. She knew that by his gentle touch as he helped her onto the horse, by the way he glanced back now to check her seat and nod reassurance. Aelfid took comfort from that. She would not suffer. Her family would not suffer. They were safe.

  She had to believe that, or she would go mad with fear.

  And this was the way home. Already she recognised the line of rolling hills in the distance. The road wound on towards them, dusty and deserted. Corn stood golden in the fields on either side of it, and green pastures beckoned from beyond. Above her hung a cloudless sky, intensely blue, from which a dazzling sunshine poured. But the day was not overly hot, at least not yet, for a chill easterly breeze blew across the open landscape and cooled the air.

  Guy checked his horse, dropped back to ride alongside her. Smiled a little, though still with that fearsome grimness in his eyes. "How do you feel?"

  "Very well." She was with him, and on her way home: she could hardly complain. And yet, her heart ached with foreboding. She studied him for a while, then plucked up courage to ask: "Are you angry with someone?"

  "Yes." The chill light in his eyes frightened her. "With any man who has dared take liberties with you. And he'll pay handsomely for it. You'll see a lord's justice done today."

  Aelfid swallowed. Much as she hated Osulf, she did not want real harm to come to him. Nor to his uncle, either. She just wanted them stopped. "You will not be too harsh? Not for my sake. I wouldn't like that."

  Guy reached across and caressed her hand. "It's for the insult to me. When men abuse the power I entrust to them, the offence to me is as great as to anyone they cause to suffer. You need not believe yourself responsible for what befalls him."

  Aelfid hesitated. "What will you do to him - to both of them?"

  "Public flogging," Guy said in a harsh tone. "For a start. After that, we'll see. It depends in part on what they have to say for themselves. But I'll put a sound man in their place, who'll begin by setting all things to rights, and sorting honest grievances from opportunistic falsehoods. There will be some of those, I do not doubt."

  Aelfid shook her head. "I don't believe anyone would make up stories about - "

  "People do. Of course, men who delight in tormenting those who are in their power will lie about that, too. A good leader must learn to sift. But the truth will come out, never fear."

  "I hope it does." She regarded him, chilled by a sudden thought. "I've told you no lies."

  "Of course not." He caressed her hand. "You I believed entirely, right from the first. Of course, I'd seen and heard enough of the man for myself."

  "If you hadn't," Aelfid asked, trembling, "would you still have believed me?"

  Guy paused, and looked thoughtful. "Not so quickly, perhaps. But I'd like to think I would have made appropriate enquiries, and understood the truth."
<
br />   That wasn't altogether reassuring. Aelfid looked down at his hand, strong and sure over her own. "How can you tell, then? What is truth and what is falsehood."

  Guy's shoulders moved in what might be a shrug. "I keep men around me whom I trust. Ask for statements from witnesses. Judge the likelihood of each. Often one can tell by who is more distressed - or by who smiles in secret, when they think no one can see. But I dare say I've made mistakes also. That's part of the consequences of leadership."

  Aelfid studied his face, which wore now an expression of earnest determination. "I think you are a good lord."

  He grinned then, a flash of humour that belied the air of authority that hung over him. "Thank you. I do my best. And I shall endeavour to live up to your high opinion of me." The grin faded, he grew serious, and his eyes darkened in thought as he watched her. Then he released her hand, lifted his fingers to caress her cheek. "I shall want you with me," he said quietly. "To remind me of my duty."

  The way he spoke those words, it seemed he left the decision to her. Whether to stay with him or not. Aelfid glanced around at the beloved landscape, at the familiar village that now drifted into view. She could hardly believe she had been happy away from home.

  "I can't go back," she said, her voice cracking. "To the castle. With you. I have to stay here, with my family."

  His features congealed. He looked as if she'd slapped him. She glimpsed the lord in him again, grim and ruthless, sure of his own power. And she was afraid, because he could compel her to return, she knew that, she was a serf on his land and he owned her.

  Then he withdrew his hand, rested it on the mane of his horse, stared out across the fields towards the village houses that huddled by the roadside.

  "Of course," he said. "You belong with them."

  That hurt her, gashed across her heart and left it bleeding. She knew it was truth, they belonged in different worlds, and she could never remain within his any more than he could be part of hers. Yet the pain of hearing him say so took her breath away.

  "I will send your belongings," he said. Then frowned. "If you brought any. I don't recall."

  "None." Just herself, on a mad impulse, just as she was. But that was no basis for a life together.

  Aelfid blushed. Oh yes, fine lady she would make. What madness had come over her, to think that a pretty dress would be enough to bridge the chasm between them? He was a lord, and she a peasant girl. She ought to feel ashamed.

  But she didn't. Instead she watched him, saw him as a man like those she knew, like Beorn - or like Osulf and his uncle, even, loathsome as they were. Still men. As were all those who rode around her, all she had left back at the castle. Men everywhere.

  She missed the company of women. Missed her mother, most of all.

  But that would soon pass. Already the first riders entered the village, and called to the bailiff to show himself.

  All of a sudden she wanted no part in this. She'd meant no harm to anyone, just wanted Osulf and his uncle stopped. Not publicly humiliated, flogged even, she'd seen how they wielded the lash to others and cringed at the thought. It was justice, yes, they deserved to get what they'd dealt out so readily, but still she wanted no part in it.

  Which was why such matters were best left to men, perhaps.

  But there was Mother, now. Aelfid's heart leapt at the sight. She willed the horse on, but it seemed oblivious to her wishes, just flicked its ears and continued with a steady step. Mother watched the men, she wouldn't think to look for Aelfid on horseback, her eyes were on the man who bellowed for the bailiff. Then her gaze travelled along the retinue, she turned her face towards Guy - and then she froze in place, wide-eyed, as she spotted Aelfid beside him.

  "Child!" Mother flew forward, pushed her way past the horsemen without the slightest regard for her own safety, reached Aelfid at last. "What in God's name got into your head, girl? I've been so worried - " She broke off, recollected herself, curtsied to Guy. "My lord, you must forgive her, she's heedless like girls are, I hope she's been no trouble."

  "None." Guy smothered a grin, Aelfid could see his cheek muscles working. "She's conducted herself throughout in a manner that speaks to your credit."

  "Oh." Mother shot Aelfid a startled glance, then curtsied to Guy again. "That's very kind of your lordship to say so, I'm sure." She sounded completely bewildered.

  Aelfid flushed to think that the commendation could be such a surprise. Then she recalled the full circumstances of her departure, and flushed deeper.

  "You'd best go with your mother, then," Guy said. There was no trace of a smile on his face now, nothing but a flat expression and a darkness in his eyes that Aelfid could almost believe was grief. At losing her, perhaps - she wanted to think so. But it could merely be displeasure at how matters had been handled in his absence. Certainly the glare he turned on Osulf's uncle made her quail.

  Aelfid studied the drop to the ground, and glanced uncertainly at the men around her. They were all preoccupied, and none had attention to spare for her. She slid awkwardly from the saddle, landed with a slam that sent pain shooting through her knees and up her thigh-bones, stumbled and flailed for balance.

  Mother caught her and held her in a tight embrace, kissed her cheeks and her hair. Then pulled her aside, towards the verge of the road. "Come away, child."

  Aelfid looked up at Guy. He seemed immensely tall now, raised up on horseback, towering above her. Him and all his men, armour glinting. She'd felt an equal among them, she realised that with a flash of self-contempt. Raised up so high, and treated kindly, she'd dared to imagine he could begin to regard her as a woman of his own rank.

  But that was absurd. Disgusting, almost. Such pride and vanity nauseated her, now that she had returned to the dirt he'd lifted her from. Who in God's name was she to have even dreamt of meeting him as an equal -

  "Take her home," Guy told Mother. "She'll wish to know that all is well."

  ***

  She looked smaller down in the dirt, Guy reflected. Grubbier. Beneath him in every sense. He felt ashamed, now, of the feelings he harboured for her. Almost he'd come regard her as an equal, a woman who could match his own standing in the world, a lady he might marry. But that was ridiculous, he realised that as he stared down at her. There could never be anything between them but the benign contempt of a lord for his serf, and the submissive deference of a peasant for her master.

  Which was an arousing thought in itself. He couldn't deny that, not any longer. But it wasn't what he wanted from her, he could get the same from any woman of her rank if he taught himself indifference enough, he didn't need to look so far down to find a woman he could love.

  That startled him. It was a weak man's thought, pathetic, despicable. Grown men had no need for love. Children, yes, while they hung around their nurses' skirts and gazed shyly at strangers. But past the age of seven or so, once they were out of the ladies' rooms and began to train up for war, there was no need for affection of that kind. Softness, caresses, indulgence - such things spoiled them for life. So he'd always been taught.

  Affection was well and good, of course, and the healthy respect that came with courtesy and consideration shown from both sides. He'd always been well treated, and taught to insist on the same for men under his command. He gave no indulgence to those who abused others, especially from a position of power, and most particularly when they used his name as cover.

  Which was why he would deal harshly with the creatures dragged before him now, a shifty-eyed man of middle age who named himself bailiff, alongside the impertinent brute who'd first shoved Aelfid in Guy's direction and offered up her body as if it was his to bestow.

  For that alone, Guy thought as he seethed with cold rage, the youth deserved to die.

  But a just lord must hear each complaint impassively, and be ready to listen to the defence. Guy held himself calm, stared down at the two accused men, and prepared to hear their justifications.

  "If it please your lordship." The bailiff straightened,
as if honestly offended, but the snide glance he directed at the youth beside him told another story. "We do have some discontented people here, but I assure you that everything has been done properly and in good order. A farm was seized from a widow who could not manage it herself and refused to allow anyone, whether husband or friend, to work it on her behalf. She has of course received half of all it has produced in the intervening time. I would not allow anyone to go hungry in this village."

  "How much?" Guy asked bluntly.

  "My lord?"

  "How much has she received from you?"

  "As I said, half of everything that - "

  "And how much, exactly, would that be? What precise quantities of grain, milk, meat?"

  The bailiff's proud stance quivered. "There has been nothing of that as yet, my lord. Of course, harvest is not yet in, and - "

  Guy held his rage in check. "Then I ask again: what foodstuffs have you provided for this widow and her children since you seized her farm?"

  The man faltered. Greed shone naked in his shifty eyes. "None as yet, my lord. But of course as soon as the harvest - "

  "I decree that the farm with all its land and livestock be returned to her at once." Guy made his voice loud enough to carry into the houses that surrounded him. "Let no man presume to touch her belongings or enter her domain without permission from her, freely given." He glared at the bailiff and the nephew, each in turn. "The pair of you I absolutely forbid from entering, whether she gives permission or not. If either of you disobey this command, or attempt to make any other man enter in your stead, you will hang."

  He paused. The silence echoed between earth and sky.

  "Now for the girl," Guy went on. He glared at the youth, whose callous smirk wavered and then broke. Guy spoke directly to him, in a low and menacing voice. "You attempted to coerce her into marriage, by threats and harassment and by having your uncle seize her family's means of livelihood. That is an offence against God and myself, for under God only I have the power to decree marriages on my land. The judgement of Heaven awaits you. For myself, I am less patient than the Lord, and I will have my vengeance now."