Swein stood and gently placed Colwyn into her arms. “You will need your rest. I have told Osbern to train you as if you were a boy. It will be a lot harder than what you did in the past. I have arranged for one of the villager’s daughters to help you with Colwyn. So I will bid you goodnight, Daughter.”
* * * *
Broc watched the carpenters work at the River Dives where Duke William had ordered his fleet to be built. It had taken much argument for even this to be brought about. To say the barons had not been agreeable was an understatement. The first meeting William had with them had taken place in February, and had been an utter failure. A second meeting was suggested. It had gone a little better than the first, but not by much.
The duke had presented his many complaints against Harold, mainly his right to his kingship. He stressed that Harold had usurped his throne. He had taken a kingdom that rightly belonged to William, but all the barons had cared about was the profit to be made in the venture. Most did not think it was worth the risk.
The main complaint of the barons—their feudal duty did not include fighting overseas. Most thought the crossing would be too dangerous, because it had never been done before. They thought England would be too strong to defeat, and the attempt to do so would ruin them all.
Broc chuckled to himself as he recalled what William FitzOsbern had told him how he had gotten the barons to support the duke. FitzOsbern had tricked them into making him their spokesman. Instead of supporting their complaints, he had addressed William in terms of servile loyalty. He had said he would provide the duke with sixty ships full of fighting men, and the barons would not only cross the sea, but bring twice the number of men duty demanded. The barons, of course, had shouted their disagreement so uproariously the meeting had had to be ended.
William had then summoned the barons one by one to him, speaking to each alone. Without the support of the others, each could not win the battle of wills with the duke. In the end, they each promised him a certain number of knights and foot soldiers. Most declined the offer to go with the duke, but they send a son or some other relation to lead their men. One of the other promises he had wrung out of them had been to build enough ships for the crossing, which was now being built.
William had sent Broc to see how they were progressing. From the look of things, the fleet would be ready for the summer crossing. The ships were based on the Normans’ ancestors, the Vikings, designs, double ended with high curved sterns and sternposts. Most were decorated with dragons’ heads and tails. Each had a mast and sail since none were to be rowed. To sail them across the Channel to England, a south wind needed to blow or the fleet would not move.
Chapter Three
Sweat trickled between her breasts. Ariel had not realized how hot armor could be. She had not even started her lesson yet and already she sweated.
Osbern checked her straps and the fit of her helmet before donning his armor. “Are you sure you want this, my lady?”
“Positive. I won’t back out now.”
With a shrug, Osbern walked to the center of the field and motioned for Ariel to follow. Once she reached him, she placed her shield on her arm and then raised her sword. He took the first strike. She moved to block it with her shield. She felt the impact all the way up her arm. She lifted her sword and struck back at him.
As the sword play continued, Ariel realized her father had been right. Wearing the armor and using the shield made it much harder. Osbern had been taking it easy on her in the past. Now his strokes came fast and furiously. With each strike, it vibrated through her. He was putting his full strength behind each hit.
Ariel felt more battered with each stroke of Osbern’s sword. She had to do something other than just ward off his attack or he would pound her into the ground. She watched him closely. He might have the strength and bulk she could never match, but she had one advantage. She was smaller and could move faster than he could.
When the hit came that would take Osbern longer to recover from, her chance had come. She lifted her shield high so his sword arm was slightly raised and then moved to block him. With a twist of her sword, she disarmed the bigger man.
The sword landed with a thud at their feet. Ariel grinned, unable to hide her triumph. Osbern’s mouth hung open. His gaze seemed glued to the sword on the ground.
“How did you do that? I never taught you that move.”
“I do not really know. It just seemed like the most logical thing to do. I am not going to let you batter me to a pulp just so you can teach me sword play.”
Osbern threw back his head and let out a roar of laughter. “Whatever you say, my lady. Just as long as you can do it again, that is what really matters. Shall we test out your newfound skill?”
At Ariel’s nod, Osbern picked up his sword and then signaled for her to come at him. The practice continued for another hour with her able to disarm him twice more.
* * * *
Swein came to the field halfway through the practice and could not believe his eyes. Osbern had said before Ariel’s confinement that she had a talent for sword play, but what he saw now led him to only one conclusion—she was a natural. Watching her disarm Osbern was a phenomenal sight, and she would only get better over time.
Ariel had always been strong for a woman, which was only natural, considering the work she had done in the fields partnered with the earlier arms lessons. Now, having full training available to her, she would only get stronger.
Swein approached Ariel as she leaned on her sword, panting. She had just disarmed Osbern once more. “Well, Daughter, I think you should give poor Osbern a rest. You do not want to wear the man out. He might not be able to continue the practice sessions if you beat him too much.”
Ariel looked at him and smiled. “Did I measure up?”
“Without question, but there is one thing. A very young man is in the hall making his displeasure known to everyone. I think you are what he wants.”
Ariel saluted him with her sword, let out a whoop, then raced toward the hall. Swein just shook his head.
“Well, Osbern, do you think she will be ready?”
“Aye, my lord. She is better than any boy her age.”
“I hope so. The talk going around suggests the fryd will be called this summer. If it does, I can guarantee Ariel will not be put off.”
“Do not worry, my lord. I will protect the Lady Ariel until death if necessary.”
“Let us hope you do not have to fulfill that promise.”
* * * *
To say Ariel was sore was putting it mildly. Every muscle in her body ached. Even some she had not known she had.
Osbern, who sat at her father’s left, leaned forward to peer at her. It was the evening meal, and Ariel could barely lift her arm to eat.
The older man laughed as Ariel grimaced in pain. “You think you are sore now, my lady? Wait until tomorrow morning. It is always worse the next day.”
“I have a hard enough time holding my baby without pain. How will I ever be able to lift a sword in the morning?”
“You will have to push past the pain. That is the way of a warrior. Besides, the exercise tomorrow will loosen and stretch your muscles. You will feel a little better after the practice.”
The conversation died off as the hall door swung open. The same messenger who had come once before from the Earl of Essex stepped through. It could only mean something important had happened.
After reaching the table where Swein sat eating, the messenger bowed slightly. “I have a message from the Earl of Essex to Swein of Elmstead.”
“What does he send?”
“The fryd has been called to assemble by order of King Harold. As your overlord, the earl commands you to assemble all your able-bodied men of your village.”
“Where are we to meet?”
“Your men are to join the rest of the fryd at Bosham, near the Isle of Wight. Whoever leads your men must have them there by June.”
“You may tell the earl it will be do
ne.”
The messenger once more bowed and then sat at one of the tables farther down the hall.
Swein motioned to one of the serfs to provide the man with a bread trencher so he could have his meal.
Ariel looked at her father. “I want to lead the men to Bosham.”
“You know our men will follow you, but the earl might not like the idea of me sending my daughter in my stead.”
“That is no problem. Tell him you are sending your son.”
A look of wariness crossed Swein’s face. “You mean to pass yourself off as a boy?”
“Aye. Every time you have had to meet with the earl you have gone to him. He has never been here before. You said so yourself that he has no interest in your family. He only cares about the rents being collected on time. I can cut my hair and bind my chest. I could pass myself off as a boy that way. I will assume a different name, and have the men use it.”
Swein stared at her. Ariel hoped her father would not think her plan foolhardy. The earl was not an easy man to deal with by her father’s accounts. If her secret came out, the earl could make her pay for her deception, but that in no way made her want to change her mind.
“If I decide to allow you to do this, I must have some promises from you first.”
Ariel quickly wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “I will do anything.”
“Osbern will go with you. You will listen to him. He has seen battle before, whereas you have not. I want you to only see the Earl of Essex when it cannot be avoided. He will not be pleased to find out you are a woman.”
“I promise, Father. I will do as you ask.”
“I am not finished yet. Do not take any undo risks with your life. You have a son. I would not like to see him grow up without his mother.”
“There is no need to worry. Colwyn is my life. I would not like to see that happen either.”
Almost as if he knew he they talked about him, Colwyn let out a wail. The village girl, who had been looking after him in Ariel’s chamber, came to the table.
“I think the little lord is hungry, my lady. Will you feed him now or shall I try to settle him until you are done your meal?”
“Nay, I will feed him now, Lily.” Ariel took Colwyn from the girl’s arms.
Lily was the girl her father had chosen to help her with the baby. Ariel had taken an instant liking to Lily. Even though they had been together for only one day, Ariel felt a kinship with her. The girl had not even batted an eye when Swein had told her what Ariel would be doing.
After entering her chamber, Ariel settled onto her bed and then nursed Colwyn. She looked up and found Lily had followed her. “You could have stayed in the hall, Lily. Did you have anything to eat yet?”
“Aye, my lady.”
“Lily, if we are going to be together a lot, I want you to call me by my given name. I would rather have you as a friend, not just a servant.”
“I would like that, Ariel. If there is anything else you would like me to do, I would gladly be about it.”
“Nay. You may go home for the night. I will be able to handle things until tomorrow.” Lily gave her a quick bob, then opened the chamber door and left.
She would have to work on Lily. Ariel wanted the girl to be more relaxed around her. Their stations in life should not matter. They were the same age—nine and ten. They were going to be spending a lot of time together, so they should think of themselves as equals.
Looking down, Ariel watched her son nurse. His little hand lay on her breast. He looked more and more like his father with each day that passed. She would miss Colwyn when she went with the rest of the village men to fight with the fryd, but she had to do it.
Ariel had worked it all out. If the Normans attacked that summer, she wanted to be there. It was the only way she could think of seeing the knight again. Even if it came down to sneaking into the Norman camp, she would confront him.
She wanted to see his face when she raised her sword to strike. Ariel did not want to kill him. No, she wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Now it looked as if she would get her wish. It was the only thing that had kept her going for the last ten months. If nothing else, it would give her peace of mind.
* * * *
The south wind finally started to blow, and the beach became a flurry of activity. Broc could not believe it had at last changed for them. The fleet had been ready since midsummer. It was now September, and they were ready to embark on their quest.
Broc stood beside William as the ships were being loaded. There were three hundred and fifty in total. Three hundred would be used as transport ships, carrying horses and thirty men. The last fifty ships would be filled with men.
“Do you think we will make the tide, Broc?”
“Aye, my lord. All seems to be moving apace.” Men hectically prepared to launch the ships. Some busily loaded the supply ships while others tried to get the skittish horses on board still others.
“We must launch when it is high water or we will miss our chance. Maybe if I walk among them it will encourage them to work faster. Will you discreetly make sure the troops are ready to board when we begin the launch?”
“Aye, my lord. They will be on the ships at the appropriate time. Have no fear.”
“I know I can count on you. I will see you on board the ship then.”
The duke descended the small hill above the beach. As he had predicted, the men moved faster as his presence on the beach became known. Broc looked away from the ships at the troops. They were gathered together, waiting for the order to board.
Broc followed the same path William had taken down the hill and then headed toward the troops. He understood the duke’s concerns regarding those men. Mixed in with the promised men from the barons were volunteers looking for booty. To put it bluntly, they were mercenaries. Some came from Flanders and Aquitaine, but most were from Brittany. Two thirds of the duke’s army was made up of those foreign mercenaries, who could be hard to control.
Once the time came to board the ships, Broc discreetly moved among the troops. He did not do much. The men seemed anxious to start the journey. Assuming everything would remain going smoothly, he walked farther down the beach to where the duke’s ship waited. On board, he checked to make sure his armor was properly stowed before he went to find William.
The duke stood at the rail of the ship, watching the loading. Broc stopped to take a closer look at the man. The duke wore an expression of determination, the one he always had when he thought of England. Broc had never met a man like William before. That he was intelligent, there was no doubt. He had strength of will most men could not match, and that would give William the throne of England. In a way, Broc felt sorry for Harold, but the man had brought this on himself when he had been crowned king.
William motioned Broc over. “Did everything go all right?”
“Aye, my lord. The chance of booty is the stronger pull at the moment.”
“Let us hope it does not change too quickly.” The duke grabbed the side of the ship as it swayed. Now that all had been loaded, the anchor had been raised and the ship moved into the River Dives.
William smiled. “It has begun. I shall take back what is mine. Do not worry. You will receive some of the booty. You have my promise right here. You can have any piece of land you wish. I will need friends such as you to watch over my kingdom.”
Broc was speechless. He had not expected to be given any land. It was his dream. One he had not really believed he would ever attain.
He remained silent with William and watched the other ships slowly take their positions behind the duke’s vessel.
* * * *
The wind seemed to be with them, but their good fortune changed halfway through the journey. Slowly the wind shifted until it blew in a westerly direction. Shortly after that, it gusted in earnest and ended up being their undoing. Much to their disappointment, they did not see the shores of England that day. For some, they would never be able
to see it. A few of the ships became wrecked on the shore or lost at sea. The survivors came into St. Valery, the closest land, exhausted, frightened, and looking for someone to blame for the mishap.
With the ships anchored off shore, and the men once again on land, they tried to reassure the troops. Many deserted. Then the rain came, and the wind once more went back to blowing to the north. Spirits fell and grumbling could be heard. The duke went to many of the men to ease their worries.
As camps were set up, William seemed to be everywhere. His presence alone held the remainder of the troops together. Broc watched him with awe. After the wait of four weeks at the River Dives, and now this misfortune, a lesser man would have given up. Not the duke. To hide the lack of supplies, William increased daily rations. To cover the number of men who had died on the shore, he ordered the burials done in secret.
Nothing could be done but wait for the south wind to come again, and to pray the wait would not be long. Winter was fast approaching. If the wind did not shift soon, the crossing would have to wait until next spring.
* * * *
Harold had dispersed the fryd. He had kept them six weeks beyond their feudal duty and now had run out of provisions. Ariel could not have been happier to be going home. She had not expected to still be at Bosham. She missed Colwyn to distraction. The separation had been harder on her than she had first thought it would be.
The first couple of days she had been in pain, physically. Ariel had been glad she had to bind her chest so tightly. As her milk accumulated, the pressure had hurt. Once it finally stopped coming, she could not help but feel she had lost one of the ties she had with her son.
He was being well-cared for back home. Lily had turned out to be just as attentive to Colwyn as Ariel herself. The girl had even found the wet nurse needed in her absence, another woman from the village whom Lily knew. The wet nurse had a son of her own, and seemed to have enough milk to nurse both babies.
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