“It’s an ill wind, my lord, that blows nobody any good,” ventured the reeve.
“Aye, man, it is,” Gyrfalon agreed. “And you may pass the word also that by next harvest the keep will have an heir. Now that my lady is out of danger from the fever ‘tis not inappropriate to pass on that message.”
Bullard grinned.
“Congratulations, my lord!” he cried “Will our little lady be coming home soon?”
Gyrfalon nodded.
“I hope so; but I will not risk her travelling before she is fit enough. I hope to have her here for Christmas. Now, Bullard, I expect you to organise a celebration for all over the raising of the siege and mine own good news.”
Bullard stammered pleased acquiescence and hurried to set such things into motion. Gyrfalon remained at the battlement, watching his brother’s lithe figure expedite the departure of stragglers. At last, Falk approached the castle and gave a whistle – a signal used long ago between the brothers to get each other’s attention. Gyrfalon whistled back the curious lilting call and waved a laconic hand; then descended the gatehouse stair to meet Falk at the sallyport.
“Want to get your horse and go visiting?” Suggested Falk. “I can even arrange an escort of church knights an you like.”
Gyrfalon snorted.
“Is there anyone in the land can stand against the pair of us united?” he asked.
Falk grinned.
“Probably not,” he admitted.
Chapter 17
Despite startled and disapproving exclamations of the sister sitting with her, Annis flew out of bed straight into Gyrfalon’s strong arms.
Close he held her, tight to his chest, burying his face in her pale hair. Then he lifted her and deposited her firmly back on the palliasse.
“She’s supposed to stay, there isn’t she, sister?” he said ironically to the nun “I wish you joy; she rarely does what I tell her, but perhaps Sister Pauline might get further; she’s a more fearsome personality than I.”
The little nun twittered in confusion at such comments from the feared warlord, uncertain if he insulted Pauline or what.
“He compliments Pauline,” said Annis, dryly possessing herself firmly of her husband’s hand and clinging to it, her eyes devouring his face as he gazed into hers. There was no need for words between them; and Falk beckoned to the nun to leave the lovers alone.
Later, while Annis ate, and the brothers declined to dine on the frugal repast of the nuns in the refectory but rather sat with her, Gyrfalon told her and his brother of the two children who had accosted him. Falk listened, half amazed that his brother should have shown the pair such gentleness; acknowledging Gyrfalon’s desire to act as his adored Annis would have him do. Annis nodded, and pulled a face.
“I fear I do have a number of half siblings” she said “One is a captain in father’s guard, a mean bully like him. I expect we’ll have to go to war with that one when my father dies for my birthright of the lands. He never forgave mother for producing only one live babe and that a puling girl, and flaunted his male bastards before her and me. Such girls as were his get he made nothing of, so I know nothing of them. Indeed, I fancy he does not know the extent of his get; he’s not the most careful of men. One day, he’ll catch a disease and it’ll turn black and drop off.”
Falk exclaimed in some shock at this callous and revolting thought from a young girl calmly eating bread and sausage; and Gyrfalon laughed out loud.
“Falk, your face is just priceless!” he chuckled “Remember, mine Annis is a healer; and knows her husbandry too. She’s an earthy little thing for all that she looks like a saint on an icon.”
Annis was revolted.
“No-one has ever suggested I look pi-faced and sanctified before!” she protested “And I swear half of them look constipated too. And nor has mine husband ever complained that I be so distant and unkissable as such!”
Gyrfalon’s eyes met hers yearningly; and she blushed, smiling at him.
“I take it back,” he murmured, “even though you did once call me your good angel, you pert virago.”
“Rankles that still? I shall have to make it up to you,” she said.
Falk cleared his throat ostentatiously. Somehow the highly charged atmosphere seemed to him to be wrong in an Abbey.
“What are you planning to do with the children you found?” he asked, changing the subject back, rather pointedly.
“Look after them,” said Gyrfalon simply. “What the hell else am I supposed to do?”
Annis frowned in thought.
“A little girl so young we can raise easily; she shall play too with Lukat. Jehanne, methinks needs gentle handling from what you have said. I will teach her basics in swordplay with Elissa’s help; but your style of teaching, my lord, may prove too much for her fragile ego, bereaved and scared as she has been.”
Gyrfalon snorted.
“I pushed you, my love, to see how far I could push. You are unique and thrived on it; that made me proud of you.”
“You push all that you want to see succeed” she contradicted “You push Lukat, who loves it for you do not baby him; and I wager you pushed Falk too.”
Falk nodded.
“He did.”
Annis continued,
“Once she has the basics it were better, methinks, that she squire someone more patient than thee, my love. Besides, dear lord, I am jealous of mine own position at your side as squire. I suggest there be none better to teach her tha other kin – which is to say, Falk.”
Falk blinked and his jaw dropped.
“But ….” He managed.
“You need a squire, dear brother,” said Annis firmly. “It behoves you to take one as befits you position of church champion. Who better to serve you than one who has – albeit tenuous – familial connections?”
Falk could muster no cogent argument against that, though he attempted to expostulate. Annis cut through his protests.
“Good, that’s settled,” she said. “You must lodge with us a while to get to know the child. It were unfair to pack her off to a stranger as though she were not wanted. And of course if you take dislike to each other, we shall have to rethink. And you and Gyrfalon too need to get to know each other again and do the sort of things brothers do together that involve getting tired, wet and muddy and explaining how big the one was that got away. Isn’t that so?”
Falk was suddenly beginning to gain insight into the point at which Annis took over his brother’s life. She had simply decided that Gyrfalon was hers; and his poor brother had not stood a chance! He exchanged a rueful look with Gyrfalon.
“Managing woman, my wife,” said the warlord. “Life is generally far easier if you fall in with her plans. My men are terrified of her I assure you; and I am thoroughly henpecked.”
He was laughing as he said this, and Annis took his hand firmly that she might gaze adoringly up at him.
“It seems to be a henpecking that agrees with you brother,” laughed Falk ruefully.
Gyrfalon visited the Abbey every other day while Annis regained her strength and renewed her friendship with old sister Agatha; who to her surprise was still alive. How much the old nun understood or remembered of recent events was debateable; but she recognised Annis, though she insisted on addressing her as though she was a small child. Annis cared not; she was grateful that Agatha had reached a safe sanctuary and had been safe these past years.
After a week, Annis pronounced herself fit to leave on Gyrfalon’s next visit; and stuck firmly to her decision in the face of Sister Pauline’s opposition. That worthy’s argument about risk to the baby was considered briefly; but set aside.
“For,” as Annis said, “’tis the worry of being from home will harm him more than a ride. The Good Lord gave women well padded behinds to save their unborn infants that much jiggling on horseback.”
To argue to the contrary seemed almost blasphemous; and Pauline gave up. The girl was stubborn enough to survive in any case and so the Sister said, to
Annis’ amusement.
“You noticed,” said Gyrfalon dryly, who was staying well out of the argument.
Pauline scowled at him. The little nun who had been so scandalised that Gyrfalon had said Pauline was more fearsome than he had reported to Pauline, to that Sister’s amusement; but it seemed appropriate to scowl.
“Almost – not quite, but almost – I pity you lord Gyrfalon,” she said sternly.
Gyrfalon grinned. He was starting to understand Pauline and knew she but teased.
“Remind me never to take you hostage Pauline,” he said. “You might not be boring as a hostage, but I wager you’ve a tongue sharp enough to cut a man’s gizzards out at twenty paces.”
“Why thank you Lord Gyrfalon,” said Pauline.
Back at the castle, Sylvia and Jehanne had settled into a routine. Gyrfalon had employed Loveday, Lukat’s mother, to see to the little girl’s physical needs and to free Jehanne to enjoy the last remnants of her girlhood without having to be mother to a small girl. Sylvia was happy enough; she and Lukat had become firm friends, for the boy was determined to protect his Lady’s little sister and Sylvia was impressed enough by Lukat’s knowledge of the castle and position at Gyrfalon’s heels to accept his protection. They squabbled and played together like brother and sister.
Gyrfalon had schooled himself to be patient in his instruction of Jehanne; teaching her too the basics of etiquette to suit her new estate in life, as well as the basics in castle management. He oversaw Elissa’s basic instruction in swordplay, that he made comment on and called for answers to questions afterwards. He had made a shrewd guess as to Annis’ purpose in suggesting that Jehanne squire Falk and wanted to oversee the girl’s progress that she not get to Falk with bad habits that his brother would hesitate to be harsh in correcting. In the evenings, Gyrfalon made a point of telling both girls – and Lukat who sat at Gyrfalon’s feet to hear stories – highly embroidered tales of his and Falk’s childhood exploits, to make Falk a figure of more substance to the girl even before he came to stay. And briefly he filled Jehanne in on the background of the feud when she asked, confused, how come they had fought but were now friends again.
Jehanne herself was enjoying life. She spared many a guilty moment to go to the chapel to pray for the souls of her parents and her brother; and still she grieved. Yet life was good – and she was young. And it both grieved and pleased her that she could see that it would not be long before Sylvia saw Gyrfalon as much her father as their own; and realer in some ways as the memory faded of their parents in the little girl’s mind. And of course, their father was not even Sylvia’s real father by birth. Well, Lord Gyrfalon seemed to be a good father figure to Sylvia. Jehanne looked forward to meeting his wife – Sylvia’s sister – with some considerable trepidation. Suppose this Lady Annis, who seemed to be held in great awe by the soldiery, wanted Jehanne thrown out as no blood kin?
Jehanne said nothing of her fears to Gyrfalon; but she drank in every day to have good memories if the worst come to the worst.
Annis’ return home was unexpected, having made so firm and instant a decision, but the news that their lady rode with Gyrfalon roused cheers throughout the castle and everyone who might gathered in the courtyard to see her come in.
As Nightmare clattered onto the courtyard cobbles making light of his extra burden, Jehanne gasped at the little figure secure in the warlord’s arms. Why, she was so little and frail looking – Annis seemed almost transparent since her illness – and so like Sylvia! And how plain it was how much that fearsome Lord Gyrfalon adored her; and the men too, many of whom wept openly in joy, knelt to her, and crossed themselves. If so adored a person decided against Jehanne, she would have her way.
Jehanne did not need to worry.
Annis slid to the ground with Gyrfalon’s aid and came straight to her, taking her hands.
“You must be Jehanne! How nice to have a sister nearly mine own age to chat to!” she said “Elissa and I have only some things in common though she is a dear friend,” she turned to reach out to touch Elissa’s arm. “Oh, Kai, there you are, have you been making the common salves I taught you?” She said to another who wanted to see and touch her, as he nodded “Caleb! I am glad you never took the fever, my lord relies on you so much!”
There were others, all greeted by name, and the tiny girl almost knocked over by Lukat’s exuberant greeting. Jehanne steadied her with an arm and Annis smiled thanks. Jehanne could see why she was so loved; she knew every man’s name and all about him and asked after ailments and family.
Gyrfalon intervened.
“Lady Annis is still not well,” he said “She is glad to see all you reprobates – though I’m not sure why – now let her get to her chamber.”
There was affectionate laughter at his insults and the press of men cleared from Annis who still held Jehanne’s arm.
“Ah, nice to breathe again,” said Annis “Your pardon, Jehanne; I had to greet people. Sisters understand things like that. Isn’t it nice that we look different, we won’t get odious comparisons. It don’t matter with little Sylvia of course as there’s enough years between me and her; but you and I will have to make sure she has a good sense of worth for herself and not let people make her into a small edition of me, mustn’t we?”
Jehanne blinked.
“Y-yes” she agreed “B-but I’m not really your sister. I’m her half sister,” she explained herself.
“Close enough,” said Annis, airily. “Anyway, I be sure we can be close enough friends to be as sisters, can’t we?”
“I – maybe. I hope so,” Jehanne was cautious. Annis laughed.
“Well, we shall see,” she smiled apologetically “I’m still feeling weak; will you lend me your arm to get to bed?”
“Willingly!” said Jehanne, obliging. Her arm was strong from helping on her parents’ smallholding that she had little trouble hefting a sword.
Gyrfalon started forward; but checked himself. It was important that Annis establish a rivalry free friendship with Jehanne and she was using this means to do so. He heaved Lukat up by the scruff and informed him that they had a horse to see to; and in the stables told the lad that it were unfair to prevent the sisters who had never met having a chance to be private; even as he, Lukat, had met his grandfather before Annis had seen to his foot that first day. Lukat considered that; and nodded acquiescence. Besides, it was good to be talked to man to man by his lord; and he drew himself up to his full height in pride.
Annis knew she had to overcome Jehanne’s feelings of inferiority and insecurity; and chatted on about the things that would need to be done on the farmsteads and in the village to repair the ravages of war. And Jehanne was able to respond knowledgeably and was grateful.
Annis did not need to pretend to need the younger girl’s strong arm by the time they reached the chamber she shared with Gyrfalon; she was sweating and shaking with fatigue.
“He could have carried you,” said Jehanne.
“He could; but he knows me well enough that I wanted time with my new sisters; and that I be too stubborn to let a staircase defeat me,” said Annis. “I am glad however that I be wed now and have not a further two flights to mine old room, that is now yours. There, help me onto the bed. Sylvia, my sweet, why don’t you pour us all a goblet of water from the carafe on the table?” she smiled as the child rushed to comply. “Then you can tell me all the story of how you came to be here, without leaving out the important bits that men never remember!”
They sat above the salt for the evening meal as a family; Gyrfalon on the great armed chair as lord, and had his big chair from his chamber brought down as added support for his young bride, pale still, but erect in bearing. To his right sat Falk; and on Annis’ left was Jehanne, quiet and a little ill at ease in her still newly exalted position. Sylvia and Lukat ate earlier and had been put to bed already. The rest of the high table was made up of Bullard the reeve – for the village being largely destroyed the villagers still lived within the castle un
til the building of new houses might begin – Father Michael, Elissa, Foregrim the Captain over all; and Wulfric, Falk’s personal bodyguard, suspicious of Gyrfalon, but willing to trust where Falk led.
Annis laid down her knife and looked around the table.
“And now,” she said quietly, “We must needs discuss what is to be done about the slavers that would have taken Jehanne and Sylvia and who doubtless prey on others; for I consider it would be a good Christmas gift to all children to deal with them permanently.”
Father Michael crossed himself.
“I fear that none but a violent solution will end their pernicious depredations,” he said regretfully. Gyrfalon grinned.
“You see why I like this priest, brother?” He remarked to Falk “He has a good grasp of reality and does not wrap things up in sanctimony and clean linen.”
“Do not tease the poor man,” chided Annis. Michael flushed and smiled.
“I do not mind, Lady Annis. And Lord Gyrfalon is right; it is not Christian charity and humility to hide from the truth.”
“Well that’s a first; approval from a representative of the church,” laughed Gyrfalon.
“They didn’t get us,” ventured Jehanne.
“No child: but they might have done,” said Falk gravely. “And there are other children. If we can clean up this region it will be a very good start.”
“It will also,” added Gyrfalon grimly, “be a start to march with some of your vaunted church knights on Marfey’s lands and evict him.”
“Evict? That don’t sound anything like permanent enough,” protested Annis. “The only word I can think of suitable that sounds anything similar is eviscerate.”
Gyrfalon chuckled.
“Bloodthirsty minx. Hang then; I care not. If the knights are too nice to do the job, if they evict him the peasants will. Or eviscerate him. One thing – or another.”
Annis grinned.
“I like the way you think, my lord,” she said happily.
Falconburg Divided (The Falconburg Series Book 1) Page 23
