King's Knight (Medieval Warriors Book 4) Read online

  Acknowledging his father with a raised hand, he turned back to Merewyn. “I must speak to my father, but I will look for you at the evening meal.”

  “I am not difficult to find,” she said and abruptly turned and walked away.

  He watched the solitary figure blend in with the men and women mingling in the bailey. Why had she never wed? There was no ring upon her finger and she was past the age when matches were made for young women.

  * * *

  “I bring news,” Alex said to his father and followed him into the hall, crushing fresh rushes beneath his feet, sending the pleasing smell of dried herbs into the air.

  The great hall had been there when the Conqueror and his knights had arrived before Alex was born. His father once offered to replace it with another, but his mother would not hear of it. The cavernous chamber had been built by her father, the old thegn, and was still the place they most often took meals, reserving the castle for war and royal guests.

  Bright with many windows open to the bailey, at night candles and the central hearth fire provided light. Most of Talisand’s men ate at two long trestle tables flanking the central hearth, but the place of honor, where his parents and their guests dined, was the table at the front of the hall set upon a raised dais.

  With Rory and Guy on his heels, Alex moved farther into the hall where the aroma of meat roasting with spices wafted from the kitchens. “Dinner cannot be far off,” he said.

  “But first I must have ale!” wailed Guy in dramatic fashion. “Else I will die of thirst!” Ever the jester, Guy gripped his throat and feigned a gag.

  Rory cuffed him on the head.

  Maggie, Rory’s Scottish grandmother and Talisand’s housekeeper, bustled into the hall from the kitchens, brushing loose strands of gray hair from her eyes. She reached up to straighten her headcloth that marked her a married woman. Once a blacksmith’s wife, she was now a widow. At her side, a serving girl carried a tray laden with cups, a pitcher of ale and a platter of bread and cheese.

  Hands on wide hips, Maggie paused to look Alex and his two companions up and down. “Humph!” she remarked. “The three of ye look like ye rolled in the dirt. Ye’re in need of a bath, but, if yer father allows, have a drink and a bite to eat before ye get yerselves to the river to wash.”

  Alex’s father nodded his assent, his lips twitching up in a smile.

  “You missed us, Maggie, admit it,” Rory said to his grandmother, planting a kiss on her forehead, being careful not to touch her with his dust-covered mail.

  “Aye, I suppose I did,” she grudgingly admitted, “though the wenches needed the rest.”

  Casting a glance at Alex, Rory chuckled.

  “We shall not be much of a burden,” Alex said. “The king would have us here but a short while.” He took the heavy tray from the servant girl. “Allow me to assist,” and carried it to one of the trestle tables.

  Maggie followed the three of them to the table. They detached their scabbards and set them aside, swinging their legs over the benches to sit, eagerly watching the servant girl pour the ale.

  The girl winked at Alex before returning to the kitchen.

  He lifted the large cup and drank deeply. “Ah, that is good and just in time, Maggie. You must have heard us coming.”

  “We heard ye all right, loud enough to raise St. Cuthbert, stirring up clouds of dust in the bailey. But ’twasn’t me who knew of yer coming. Maugris told us ye’d be arriving this day. I’ve had the kitchens preparing a feast all morning at yer lady mother’s direction.”

  “Maugris. I might have known. So the wise one has been seeing visions again.” Alex had to wonder, did he have a vision of the king’s court at Westminster? Did he see the brothel it had become when the king did not entertain his earls and barons? The old Norman who had come with the Red Wolf from Normandy missed little. Wise in his pronouncements, Maugris’ words, be they caution or prophecy, were respected by all.

  “What was that prophecy he had of you before we left?” Rory asked. Beside him, Guy set down his cup and leaned in to listen.

  Trying to recall the seer’s words, Alex rested his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand. “Something about my wandering…”

  “The wolf’s cub will wander, ever restless, until the wolf rampant flies above the red hart,” Maugris intoned in his gravelly voice as he stepped to the table.

  “Maugris!” Alex stood. “I see you still speak in riddles. Come, sit with us and share some ale.”

  Maggie raised her brows in question to the old man.

  He nodded. “But Maggie, you know I prefer wine.” Then to Alex, he said, “I have admired many things about your mother’s people, but I never acquired a taste for English ale.”

  Maggie waved her arm, summoning a servant, then muttered something about having to see to the feast and headed toward the kitchens.

  Alex was very fond of the housekeeper who kept Talisand’s hall in order and of her daughter, Cassie, Rory’s mother. A redhead like her son, Cassie was another sensible, hard-working woman, who seemed destined to assume her mother’s role reigning over Talisand’s kitchens, laundries and gardens.

  Clothed in a fine blue tunic of Talisand wool, Maugris slid his lean frame onto the bench beside Alex. It always amazed him that the old one’s face could be both ancient and ageless, as if he had been born with silver hair and skin wrinkled from the sun. But as ancient as he looked, Maugris’ pale blue eyes sparkled with the excitement of youth.

  Before the wine arrived, Alex’s father left the man he’d been speaking with and joined them, taking the small bench at the end of the table.

  A servant delivered a pitcher of wine and two goblets and Alex’s father turned to him. “You are here, so I must assume William Rufus has successfully taken his older brother in hand. Is that your news?”

  “Aye,” said Alex, sparing a glance for Rory and Guy sitting across from him. “Once Duke Robert got a good look at the size of William’s army, he agreed to terms without a fight. The two signed a treaty in Caen while William’s knights sat around dicing and exchanging blows in a hastily arranged practice yard. ’Twas not the battle we expected, at least not then.”

  “What about Henry?” his father asked.

  “ ’Twas Henry we fought. William’s agreement with Robert stripped their younger brother of his lands in Normandy. Henry was bitter when he stomped away. We learned later he was holed up at Mont Saint Michel with his men, intending to defend his claims to the Cotentin.” Seeing his father’s expectant expression, Alex added, “The king ordered us to lay siege and we were only too glad to finally draw our swords.”

  “I wonder if that was wise on William’s part,” muttered Maugris. “Henry has a temper as bad as the king’s. Worse, he switches sides between his brothers whenever it works to his advantage.”

  “What happened at Mont Saint Michel?” asked the Lord of Talisand, his gray eyes alight with interest.

  Alex shrugged. “We had a few skirmishes with Henry’s knights, but the ranks of Henry’s soldiers dwindled each day as the king gained ground with Normandy’s nobles. The last of the major supporters for Henry’s cause fell when William persuaded Hugh de Avranches, the Earl of Chester, to cross to his side.” Always one to calculate the course that was to his advantage, Alex was not surprised when Earl Hugh had decided in favor of William’s greater power and wealth. “With the earl’s defection, others quickly followed, swearing allegiance to William.”

  “ ’Tis unfortunate Hugh felt he must fight for Henry and all to the good he is back in William’s fold,” said Alex’s father.

  Rory leaned forward. “Alex will not tell you but he displayed great skill, so much so the men are now calling him the Black Wolf.”

  Alex stared into his ale. As proud as he was of having the favor of the king and the other knights and as much as he had wanted Merewyn to notice, his accomplishments dwindled to the ordinary when he compared them to those of his great father. But when he looked up, he was pleased t
o see the pride in his father’s face.

  Guy chimed in, “The siege ended when Henry’s men cried thirst and Duke Robert had water delivered to them.”

  The Lord of Talisand laughed. “ ’Tis no surprise. Pliable, weak Robert would hardly allow his younger brother to perish of thirst.”

  “Those were nearly the duke’s words when the king erupted in anger,” Alex said with a smile. “William accused his brother of keeping a good store of enemies by giving them meat and drink. His face turned crimson and he began to stutter. For a moment, I thought he might run Robert through.”

  His father seemed to consider the possibility. “The two have come to blows more than once.”

  “Days later,” Alex said, “Henry sued for an honorable surrender and his brothers granted it, pleased to see the back of him, I think.”

  Maugris asked, “Is William satisfied with his foray into Normandy?”

  Alex took another drink of his ale. “Yea, I suppose. And Robert is with him, but the king came back to England earlier than expected.”

  His father raised his brows and Alex answered the unspoken question. “Word reached the king in Normandy that Malcolm, the King of Scots, had marched into England to besiege New Castle upon Tyne. William now prepares for war, gathering his army to march north. He will call a meeting of his barons soon. Will you go?”

  “One does not refuse the king,” said his father. “But your mother will not be happy to hear William Rufus has set his eyes upon Scotland. Your Uncle Steinar rides with King Malcolm.”

  “An uncle I have never met,” Alex reminded him.

  “Well, he has the same violet eyes and fair hair as your mother. And the same temper when aroused. Were you to encounter him, you would know the two are siblings.”

  “I will keep that in mind should I meet him on the battlefield.” The possibility sent a shudder through him. The last thing Alex needed was to slay his mother’s much beloved brother.

  His father stared into his wine, his forehead furrowed. “I wonder why the King of Scots picked this time to invade England…”

  “Well, for one, William was away in Normandy,” Alex offered, “but there is also the matter of Edgar Ætheling, the brother of Malcolm’s queen. He has been living in Normandy where he gained lands from Duke Robert. He was at the treaty signing in Caen.”

  His father’s dark brows drew together. “You believe he is the reason Malcolm attacked New Castle?”

  “I do. As a part of the agreement between William and Robert, Edgar was expelled from the duke’s court. He left Normandy an angry man. With his brother-in-law a king, one does not have to wonder where he went.”

  “Scotland, of course,” said Alex’s father, shaking his head.

  Maugris turned his goblet in his hand. “So, the Conqueror’s son fears the Ætheling as did his father.”

  “Likely so,” said Alex. “The king still has many enemies and Edgar, now in his fourth decade and a seasoned knight, would make a powerful ally of Robert’s, especially if Malcolm were to aid them with his army.”

  “And then there are the Welsh,” interjected Rory. “The king was none too pleased to hear of trouble on the border with Wales.”

  “We know of William’s problems there,” said the Lord of Talisand. “It was Rhodri’s anticipation of war that caused him to send Merewyn home.”

  Merewyn. The girl with the beautiful eyes, now a woman, who dressed as a bowman. The last time he was home, she was still in Wales. He expected her to return, but he had not imagined she would do so looking like one of Rhodri’s archers. “The king has not been successful against the Welsh,” he told his father, “and I cannot see him risking more of his men in that wild place when he gathers an army to fight Malcolm. The quarrelsome Scots fight like brawlers in a tavern but the Welsh fight like foxes at night in a chicken pen. You will see their feathered shafts in your dead, but you will never see the foxes.”

  Alex looked up to see his mother, Lady Serena, gliding toward them, elegant and beautiful. Her gown was silk, the same color as her eyes, and her flaxen hair neatly plaited.

  Her face lit with excitement as she approached. “You are home!”

  Alex rose and bowed. “I would offer you an embrace, but I still bear the dust of my travels.”

  “A kiss of greeting will do,” she said, presenting her cheek.

  He gave her the requested kiss as his two friends stood and bowed.

  The Lord of Talisand rose from his seat to stand by his lady, kissing her on the forehead. “How go the preparations for the celebration, my love?”

  “Well enough, though Maggie is having a time of it in the kitchens.” With a smile for Alex’s companions, she said, “Cassie and Emma will be glad to see you both. Your mothers have been anxiously awaiting your return. Your sisters, Rory, and yours, Guy, will be joining all of Talisand to welcome you home tonight. And tomorrow, there will be contests of strength and games so do not drown in your ale.”

  Alex did not mind his mother’s chiding, which had always been tempered with love for him and his brothers. After traipsing all over Normandy with the king who fought his own brothers, Alex was glad he and his three brothers were friends, which reminded him he had not seen Raoul or Roger anywhere. “Tibby greeted me when we arrived but where are Raoul and Roger?”

  “Raoul is away on Talisand business with Sir Alain and some of the house knights,” his father informed him. “Now that your brother has his spurs, there is no holding him here, so I have set him a task. Roger is serving his namesake, the Earl of Shrewsbury. Once Roger is knighted, I expect he will be as eager to serve the king as Raoul.”

  “What was Tibby doing when you left him?” his mother asked.

  “Off to the stables.”

  “By now, he has probably found some trouble,” his mother put in. Glancing at Rory, she added, “He follows your younger sister, Cecily, wherever she leads. The two were chasing chickens with Aethel’s son, Ancel, the last time I saw them. But as long as the three mischievous imps are out of Maggie’s way and her strawberry tarts are safe, ’tis best.”

  “Is my mother about?” asked Rory.

  “Cassie is in the kitchens with your grandmother. Maggie has no doubt told her of your arrival but they are deep in flour, kneading dough for the bread ovens and watching closely the servants so they take care in turning the roasting spits. I will tell her you have gone with Alex and Guy to wash off the dirt.”

  Alex got to his feet. “Come, lads, let us test the waters of the Lune and scare a few trout.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Merewyn waited in the shadows of the stable until Alex, Rory and Guy left the armory, their squires following after them with fresh clothing. Knowing the men would be at the river for some time, she left the shadows and headed for the manor. She did not wish to encounter Alex again so soon. Her stomach twisted in knots as she remembered her bedchamber was only a stone’s throw from the one Maggie had told her Alex shared with Raoul.

  She entered the manor just as Lady Serena came through the wide opening that led to the hall, the two buildings being joined. “Oh, Merewyn, I have been looking for you. There is something I want to show you.”

  “Yea, my lady?”

  “ ’Tis in your chamber.”

  They ascended the stairs to the chamber that was Merewyn’s alone. Lady Serena opened the oaken door and gestured her inside. In front of her stood the table where she laid her bow and quiver of arrows. Beyond the table, sunlight from the window streamed in through the open wooden shutters. To her left was a small bed and, on the right side of the room, a larger one to which Lady Serena walked. Merewyn followed.

  There, lying upon the fur-covered bed was a beautiful gown of amethyst silk. The bodice and matching hooded cloak were trimmed in an elaborate gold weaving.

  “ ’Tis lovely,” said Merewyn reaching out to touch the silk, shimmering in the light from her window. She had never owned a gown the equal of this one.

  The Lady of Talisand smiled. �
��It is for you, Merewyn, to wear this night.”

  “I am more than grateful, my lady, but why?”

  Lady Serena gave her an indulgent smile. “I know you are content with your archer’s clothing and your simple gowns of linen and wool, but tonight is special and you are now a woman grown. I would have you attired in clothing to match your beauty. Rory and Guy’s sisters will be in silk, as will Lora. Emma would be angry with me if I allowed you to dress in less fine a manner than her daughter. She still thinks of you as hers.”

  “Lady Emma is very kind, but I have not lived with Sir Geoffroi and her for many years.” They had taken Merewyn into their home after her mother’s death, but after she took up the bow, Lady Serena had invited her to live in the manor. When she returned from Wales, it was to Serena’s home Merewyn had gone. “You are more a mother of the heart to me than any other.”

  “It pleases me to hear you say it.” Lady Serena sat on the edge of the bed, next to the gown. “You have become the daughter I once thought to have, Merewyn.”

  She beamed at hearing the words. “Truly?” She was still living with Lady Emma when Lady Serena had lost a girl child, born a few years before Tibby. It brought Merewyn great joy to think she might have filled the void left by the loss of Serena’s child.

  “Indeed, yea.” She stood. “Now, say no more and accept the gown. The gold necklace Emma gave you will be beautiful with it.”

  Guy’s sister, Bea, and Rory’s oldest sister, Alice, were a few years younger than Merewyn’s friend, Lora. In the time Merewyn had been back, she had noticed the three women were much admired. With powerful knights as their fathers, Merewyn was certain they had never feared being caught alone in the woods. Mayhap it would not hurt for her to dress like them in the hall.

  She met the older woman’s expectant gaze. “I will wear it and gladly.”