He scanned the missive the Earl of Essex had written. It could not have been good news, for his face became more set and drawn-looking the longer he read.
“Is it not good, Father?”
“Nay, I am afraid not. King Edward has died, and Harold Godwinson has been crowned king. It says the messenger will provide more information.” Swein turned his attention to the messenger and waited for him to speak.
“The earl felt it would be better if I told you in person rather than putting it to parchment. In case you had some questions.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“King Edward died during the night on the fifth of this month. The queen, Harold Godwinson, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the king’s friend, Robert Fitzwinmark, were at his side before he passed. They were able to rouse him once before he went to his eternal rest. When the king awoke, he spoke of a dream he had had. The earl did not hear exactly what the king spoke of, but it is said the king saw two dead monks who he had known in Normandy. They foretold that with all the wickedness in England, the land would be consumed with fire and war. God would only stop the punishment when a felled tree joined itself back together with no help from man, broke into leaf, and bore fruit.”
It had been rumored that the king had promised his throne to Duke William of Normandy when the duke had come to England some years back. It had never been confirmed by the king, but it had been said the duke had taken him seriously. Now that Harold had been crowned, it would only be a matter of time before the news reached Duke William.
Ariel placed her hand protectively on her bulging belly. The messenger soon cleared his throat and looked at Swein. When he received a nod in return, he continued.
“King Edward called Harold to his side and took his hand. He commended Queen Edith to his protection. As well, he ordered Harold to serve and honor the queen, since she is his sister. Normans who resided at court were to be given the choice of either returning to their land or swear fealty to Harold. Lastly, he gave orders to where he would like to be buried at his new minister, and to have his death announced everywhere without delay.”
Swein nodded to the messenger. “You may rest here tonight. I have no questions. You provided everything I would want to know.”
“I will gladly accept your hospitality, but I must be on the road by dawn tomorrow.”
Ariel went to stand beside her father after the messenger had left the hall. “This bodes ill for England, Father.”
“I know. According to the earl’s letter, the king was buried the morning after his death, and Harold crowned king that same afternoon. It makes no difference that we do not want a foreign king. Duke William will come. There will be no peace for England.”
* * * *
Rouen, Normandy
January 1066
The air was crisp with the sun shining brightly. It made a perfect day for a hunt. Broc St. Ceneri stood in the palace courtyard, waiting, one of the many who had decided to hunt with Duke William that day. He swept the others with his gaze. They were there to curry favor from the duke. By the way they acted toward one another, one would never know they were almost always at each other’s throats. Only on their lands did they practice the art of war on their neighbor’s castles.
Broc was not considered one of them. He was only tolerated because Duke William had taken a liking to him. It did not matter to Broc that he was not accepted. He valued his friendship with the duke above all else. Being a landless knight at the age of eight and twenty, he could not help but think he was lucky to be where he was.
A burst of laughter came from the group of men directly across from him. They noticed Broc watching them, turned their backs on him, and continued to speak in hushed tones. Broc shook his head in amusement. They might not like him, but their wives and daughters did not share the men’s opinions. Being slightly over six feet tall, and with his peculiar eye color, it made him a novelty. Those things were not the only reason they sought him out. He could not claim ignorance about what his face did to women.
He had accepted some of the offers from women who approached him. Mostly widows, but lately, even they did not hold his attention. The face of the Saxon girl always came to mind.
Broc was surprised to find her never far from his thoughts. She had attracted him at first sight. The stuff of her gown had made him think she was a peasant. He usually did not use the peasant girls as other lords did, but this time he had not been able to pass her up. She had looked so innocent with her pale blonde hair hanging down her back. As she had stared at him, it almost felt as if her gaze had gently caressed him.
He had known she had no idea what she did to him. That alone had excited him more than any experienced widow’s caresses could. To have been the first man she had known had been his undoing. He had never felt such complete satisfaction from any other woman.
Duke William stepped into the courtyard, and silence descended. Broc pushed the thoughts of the girl back and smiled as William approached. Their friendship had sprung up when Broc had presented himself to the duke. He had come searching for a place in William’s household. As a younger son from a not-so-wealthy family, there was nothing for him at home. All he could hope for was to be accepted into a rich household. The only thing he possessed worth having was his skill with the sword. William had accepted him on the spot, and had placed him with the knights of his court. The friendship had begun shortly after.
The duke grabbed Broc’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Well, my lad, are you ready for the hunt?”
“Aye, my lord.” William was one of the few Broc did not have to look down on. Even at the age of eight and thirty, the duke’s body was still as heavily muscled as his own. “It seems to be a perfect day.”
“Right you are.” Before William could continue, a lone rider clattered into the courtyard.
The man pulled his horse to a stop and then dismounted. “I bring a message for Duke William.”
The duke walked to the messenger. “I am here. Tell me the news you bring.”
The man gave William a slight bow. “I come from England. The holy King Edward has died. He succumbed from illness. They crowned Harold Godwinson King of England the same day they laid King Edward to rest.”
William’s face went white, then turned red with fury. The messenger took a step back as the duke laced and unlaced his cloak. Without a word, William turned and went back into the palace. When he did not return for some minutes, everyone assumed the hunt was to be abandoned. The other participants dispersed as they mumbled among themselves. Everyone had known Duke William had expected to be the next King of England. Now someone else had taken the throne.
Broc knew how upset the duke must feel. It had been his tales of his time spent in England that had made Broc want to go to that country. As he headed toward the palace, a hand reached out and pulled him to a halt. He looked behind him to find William FitzOsbern had stopped him. He was the duke’s seneschal and one of William’s friends. Broc liked the man as much as he liked the duke.
“I will go to him, Broc. You have not known him as long as I have. I know how to get him out of this mood. When he is ready, I’m sure he will want to talk to you.”
Broc nodded. FitzOsbern was right. He would know what to say to the duke.
* * * *
William FitzOsbern found the duke in the hall. He sat on a bench with his head against a pillar with his cloak thrown over his face. FitzOsbern entered the hall, humming.
At the sound of his voice, the duke looked out from under his cloak. “You might as well stop trying to hide. The news has probably spread throughout the city by now. It’s time to stop grieving. It is time you do something about it. Sitting here under your cloak will not give you the throne of England.”
William dropped his cloak into place and chuckled. “You always know what to say to bring me out of my moods. So be it, my friend. I will call the barons together.”
Chapter Two
There was a hint of spring in t
he March air. It even smelled like it. Birds flitted across the clear blue sky, almost as if they knew the warmth had returned.
Ariel smiled as she walked to where Osbern held practice lessons. It seemed to take her longer to go anywhere. With her belly quite large now, it made her very clumsy.
Almost as if the baby knew she thought about it, it gave her a few kicks. She reassuring patted her belly and mentally told it to be patient. It would not be long now. The village healer had told her to expect the baby’s arrival any day.
At the field, Ariel stopped to watch two men from the village sparing with battle axes. Though farmers, the men were trained to use the axe at a very early age. As part of the fryd, they needed to know how to wage war, as well as work a field.
Her lessons had ended a few weeks before. Her father had said enough was enough. Osbern had also refused to teach her anything more until after the birth of her baby. They might have been able to stop her from handling a sword, but they could do nothing about her watching others. Ariel had come every day since her lessons had ended. She needed to learn more. She had formed a plan shortly after the messenger had arrived with his news.
Osbern left the two men and approached her. “Must you come all the time, my lady? I thought you would have other things on your mind, what with the babe soon on its way.”
“Nay. I cannot wait until I can take up arms again.”
Osbern shook his head and turned his attention back to the two villagers.
Ariel smiled. Osbern was gruff around most people, but with her, he was always polite. He was a big man, which was not surprising. It was hard not to be when you were the master of arms. For a man in his middle years, his arms were still thick with muscle. His whole body was covered with muscle. As if that was not intimidating enough, he stood well over six foot. She wondered how many men would actually want to face him in battle.
“Osbern, I have a request.”
“What would you like, my lady?”
“After the babe is born and my lessons begin again, I would like to be fitted for armor.”
“What do you mean fitted for armor?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean. I want a full-sized shield, not the smaller one I have been using, chain mail and helmet, all of it.”
“Why? I thought this just gave you something to do, my lady.”
“Nay, it is more than that. I intend to use what you taught me, and I must be able to do it properly outfitted.”
Ariel turned and left Osbern to ponder exactly what she had meant by her request.
* * * *
At barely dawn the next day, Ariel found herself unable to sleep any longer. She lay in her bed and wondered what had brought her out of a deep sleep. The sensation of her stomach tightening, followed by a sharp cramp, it soon became obvious what was happening. The baby had decided it was time to make itself known.
After the pain subsided, Ariel reached for her shift and then slowly donned it. About to cross the floor to her door, another pain hit her. This one was stronger than the first.
Not waiting for it to end, Ariel reached the door and opened it. “Father, I need you!” Even before the words had left her mouth, another pain hit her, followed by a gush of water.
Swein came to her chamber door, raking his fingers through his hair. He looked at the puddle of water at her feet and then back up at her face. She was sure it showed the pain she felt.
“I’ll get the healer. You go back to bed.”
“Nay, don’t leave me.”
Swein put a reassuring arm about her shoulders as she looked at him. Gaining the attention of one of the serfs in the hall, he said, “Go to the village and get the healer. Tell her my daughter has need of her.”
The woman turned and ran out of the hall. After she left, Swein gently led Ariel back to her chamber. By the time the village healer arrived, Ariel was well into the birthing process. Her father seemed surprised by how fast things were progressing. He had told her he had sat by her mother’s side while she had given birth to her. According to him, it had taken most of a day for Ariel to finally arrive.
At the sight of the thane sitting beside his daughter’s bed, holding her hand, the healer shook her head. “It’s time for you to leave, my lord.”
“Nay. I watched her come into this world and I will watch my grandchild enter it as well.”
“It is not proper.” Ariel tightly clutched her father’s hand. Shrugging, the healer went to stand at the foot of the bed. After lifting Ariel’s shift to her knees, the woman reached between Ariel’s legs. “She seems to be further along than I expected.”
“That is what I thought. She woke up a few minutes before I sent for you.”
“My lady must have slept through the early stages and woke up when the pains became intense. It happens sometimes.” Ariel let out a moan. “From the look of things, it will not be long now.”
The wait turned out to not be long at all. A few minutes later, Ariel bore down. Swein talked calmly to her, encouraging her as she struggled to push her child into the world. Once the baby finally slid out of her body, she let out a grunt of satisfaction. She lay back and closed her eyes.
At the sound of the infant’s first cries, Ariel opened her eyes. “What is it?”
“You have a fine big son, my lady.” The healer wiped the baby clean and then wrapped him in a blanket. She placed the small bundle into Ariel’s arms.
Looking at her son, tears came to her eyes. He was beautiful. He had tawny-blond hair, and his small face was the very image of the knight’s. The baby opened his eyes, and Ariel stifled the gasp that rose within her. Gold eyes stared up at her, so much like his father’s.
“Well, Ariel, what are you going to call my fine-looking grandson?”
“Colwyn. He is quite handsome, is he not?”
“That he is. Rest now, my sweet. I am sure there is a crowd outside the hall just waiting to hear about Colwyn.”
As her father left, Ariel let the healer take Colwyn from her arms and then slipped into a well-deserved sleep.
* * * *
Ariel spent the next four weeks getting to know her son and letting her body heal. To her greatest surprise, she found nursing Colwyn one of the most rewarding things she had ever done. Her son became the center of her life. The love she felt for him grew stronger each day.
At the sound of the baby’s gurgle, Ariel watched her father talk to Colwyn. Swein had the baby cradled in his arms while he showed the infant the hall.
“You pay attention, little man. One day this will be yours.”
“Father, Colwyn is too young to understand what you are saying.”
“He might be now, but he will not always be. I want him to know what his birthright is. He must never forget.”
The sting of being a bastard was what her father wanted to prevent. Swein wanted to shield Colwyn from it. Ariel had been debating with herself whether or not to tell her father about the knight. One of the reasons she had kept silent was from embarrassment. What would her think? She had given herself to an unknown man without giving it a second thought. He had every right to disown her. Even though she had been dressed as a peasant, she should have made her real status known to the knight.
As Swein had sat on one of the benches, Ariel went and took a seat beside him. “I guess it’s time we talked about Colwyn’s father.”
“Only if you are ready to do so. I would never force you to tell me if you were not.”
“I know you would not.” Ariel shifted until she faced her father. “You need to know. It is something I am not proud of. The only good to come out of it is Colwyn. I met him in the meadow. I had just finished helping in the fields. A knight came out of the forest, a Norman knight. He was unlike any other man I had ever seen. I think it was his eyes that first drew me.” She could no longer look her father in the face. “I knew what the knight wanted. I just did not stop him. He gave me this before he left.”
Ariel reached into the bodice of her gown a
nd pulled out the ring, the one she always wore around her neck. She did not know why she kept it, but once she found herself with child she could not give it up. It was all she had that was a clue to the knight’s identity.
Swein released Ariel’s hand and reached for the ring. The ruby eye of the unicorn flashed as he moved it closer. “He did not tell you his name?”
“Nay. The ring is all he left as to who he is. I did not give him my name either.”
Swein dropped the ring so it hung from Ariel’s neck once more. “You want to find him again, do you not?”
“Aye. At some point I do, but there is something I want to do first.” Ariel slipped off the bench and kneeled before her father. She placed her hands on his knees and beseechingly looked at him. “I want to go with the fryd when it is called to assemble.”
He had to have been expecting that. He had to have known why she had requested armor. It was almost finished, waiting only for Ariel to return to her lessons.
“If you must, you must. I will not stop you. Osbern says you have a talent for it, but I need to know one thing. What will become of Colwyn when you leave?”
“I will only be gone two months. He can stay here with you. We can find him a wet nurse. I will nurse him until I have to leave.”
“You will not be able to continue to after you come back. Your milk will have dried up.”
“I know. That is one drawback. The other will be leaving you and Colwyn behind.”
“Can I assume you will be leading our men?”
“If you do not mind.”
Swein shook his head and chuckled. “Nay, but there is one condition. Osbern will go with you and fight by your side. I will not lose you now that we are close again. With your mother gone, you and Colwyn are all I have.”
Ariel stood and wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. “I love you, Father. I will do as you wish.” She looked at Colwyn, who was still cradled in Swein’s arms, to find him asleep. “I see someone decided it was his bedtime. Maybe I should retire for the night as well. I start training again tomorrow. Osbern wants me to start very early.”
Lady Knight Page 2
