"I will keep the dogs chained a while longer, Thomas," Geoffrey said. "But from now on, it will be your duty to take them their food and see that they have enough water. And if I hear that you have not done this duty, you will be punished. Do you understand me?"
"I will do it, my lord," Thomas answered. "And I won't be afraid. If the dogs are tied, they cannot bite me."
Geoffrey let out a sigh and nodded. "No, they cannot bite you, and after you have seen to their food, they will grow to rely on you."
"Mistress?" Sara called from behind. "The new vat of ale has been spilled. It was an accident."
Elizabeth closed her eyes against Sara's excuse for yet another accident. "See that it is cleaned up, Sara," was her only reply.
"I will chain the dogs," Roger interrupted. "Lad, you come with me."
The call that someone was approaching the gates stopped the knight's action. He looked at Geoffrey and then grabbed Thomas, slinging him up and over his shoulder.
"We have company," Geoffrey announced. He was looking at his wife as he spoke. "Your grandfather."
His calmly stated news lifted the fatigue and frustration from Elizabeth. Joy welled up and she all but hugged her husband. "He is truly here?" she asked in a breathless voice, smoothing her hair in an unconscious gesture.
Geoffrey watched the excitement in his wife with a hint of a smile. He was pleased that she was happy with his news, and decided that he liked it considerably when she smiled. Soon, he thought to himself, she will realize her good fortune, and she will smile like that at me. Not that it truly mattered, if she smiled or not. Still, it would make for an easier arrangement. He did not ask himself why that was so, why he liked to see her content, for he considered it insignificant. Happy or not, she belonged to him. That was the way of things. "You are pleased?" he found himself asking Elizabeth.
"Aye, my lord, most pleased," Elizabeth answered, clasping her hands. She started to hurry past him then, intent on greeting her grandfather, but Geoffrey's hand stayed her.
"We will greet him together," he announced.
Elizabeth realized that that was the proper way and nodded her agreement. Geoffrey let go of her arm and walked beside her to the top of the steps leading to the courtyard.
The gates opened with her husband's order, and her grandfather, riding a white charger Elizabeth had not seen before, came galloping into the courtyard. He was dressed, as he always was, in gray tunic and hose, with the fur of some wild animal's skin draped as a cape over his shoulders and around his feet. Another band of fur covered most of his white-blond hair, tilting over one blue eye like a patch. He stood proud and tall, this radical grandfather of hers.
If Geoffrey was amazed by the figure dismounting before him, he hid his feelings well. Elizabeth glanced up at him, a smile on her face.
Her grandfather was an extremely tall man with a gait as enormous as his build. As bold as ever, he smacked the back of his horse and sent him flying away and then turned to walk toward Elizabeth.
"I came as soon as your word reached me," her grandfather began in his powerful voice. "You are the baron here?" he asked.
"I am," Geoffrey acknowledged.
The giant nodded while he studied the man standing next to his granddaughter. When he was through with his appraisal, he nodded again and turned his attention to Elizabeth. "You have no greeting for your grandfather?" he asked in a soft voice.
He was watching her closely, saw the fatigue in her eyes, the lines of worry.
Elizabeth needed no further urging. Nor did she turn to her husband for approval. She ran down the steps and threw herself into her grandfather's open arms, clasping her hands behind his neck. "Thank God you have come," she whispered into his ear as he lifted her high into the air.
"We will talk later, child," her grandfather whispered back. In a louder voice he said, "You are well, little Viking?" using his pet name for her.
"I am no longer little Viking, Grandfather, but a Baroness. Put me down and I will introduce you to my husband," she said. She glanced over at Geoffrey, read his scowl, and added, for his benefit and his pride, "My husband is a most patient man when my behavior becomes improper."
Although he knew the man holding his wife was her grandfather, he still found himself irritated that another touched her.
The grandfather placed Elizabeth back on the ground, gave her another enthusiastic hug, and then turned to Geoffrey.
Looking at the warrior, he said, "Granddaughter, was the marriage forced?" There was a hint of a threat in his voice, but Geoffrey remained composed. He too turned to his wife and waited her response. Her words would determine his action.
"No, Grandfather, it was not forced." She was looking at her husband as she spoke, her expression serious. "I am most content."
Geoffrey's shoulders seemed to relax a bit to Elizabeth's way of thinking, though he still did not smile. But then he rarely smiled, Elizabeth reminded herself. Why, coaching a bit of lightheartedness into his expression was as difficult as trying to force the sun to shine during a rainstorm. It was simply beyond her power.
Her grandfather's voice interrupted her wonderings. "Then, why the hurry, I'm asking. I would have liked to see you wed," he said.
"There was so much chaos that my husband thought it best to hurry the vows. And it would not have been proper to celebrate the event after what took place here, Grandfather."
"Still another reason to wait," her grandfather argued. He still hadn't taken his gaze from the tall warrior, and Elizabeth noted that the friendliness was gone from his tone. He antagonizes, Elizabeth realized as she watched him fold his arms across his chest and continue to stare at her husband. What was his game, his purpose? she asked herself, growing worried.
"It was my decision," Geoffrey answered. His tone matched her grandfather's and Elizabeth thought the two resembled hostile opponents now. "Do not dare to question it."
Geoffrey well knew he was being tested, though he did not understand the reasoning. Regardless of the motive, it was time he showed this new challenger who was in charge.
"You do not kneel before me," Geoffrey said. "You have failed to give me your pledge, though you know I am baron here." His hand settled on the hilt of his sword, a silent message that he was prepared to battle if necessary.
"I am an outcast," her grandfather answered. "You would consider my pledge honorable? Binding?"
Geoffrey nodded. "I would."
The scowl left her grandfather's face as he considered his next move. "Know you all the facts, my lord? I am Saxon, full blood, and once a noble. Still you ask my fealty? I have no lands to protect."
"I would have your loyalty or your life. The decision is yours."
Elizabeth could not understand what was happening between the two men. Fear swept over her as she watched the mental battle going on between her husband and her grandfather. His life? He had demanded his fealty or his life? No, she wanted to scream, do not ask this. He is his own man, loyal to no one but his family. Family! Aye, she realized, that was the key to this frightening game the two played. Was Geoffrey demanding acceptance by asking the pledge? And if so, why?
Geoffrey witnessed his wife's distress and hoped that she would not interfere. It was imperative that he have her grandfather's trust and loyalty, and though he had not voiced his reasons to his wife, he expected her to keep her silence.
"Go to your husband." The quiet instruction was heard by Geoffrey.
Elizabeth felt torn in half between the two. She wanted the time to explain her grandfather to her husband, and to explain her husband to her grandfather, but there was no time. She let go of her grandfather's embrace and walked to stand on the step, beside her husband.
Silence filled the area as the two giants considered each other. It was a most difficult moment for Elizabeth. She did not know what she would do if her grandfather refused to bend to her husband's will, did not know if her husband would truly carry out his threat to do battle…
The game
ended. With absolute ease, her grandfather flipped off his cap and knelt on one knee before her husband. He placed his right hand over his heart and said in a clear and forceful voice, "I, Elslow Kent Hampton, give you my loyalty and vow on this day nare to betray you."
It was an emotional moment for Elizabeth. She had never seen her grandfather so intent. His word was his bond, and all he had to give. It was his honor, his soul. Did her husband sense this about her grandfather? she wondered. No, he could not, for he barely knew him, she reminded herself. He could have no idea that her grandfather was as fiercely loyal as she was.
"Stand," Geoffrey said. All harshness was gone from his voice and Elizabeth could tell he was pleased. Her husband walked down the steps and placed a hand on his new relative's shoulder. "There is much I would discuss with you, and before night arrives, now that I have your loyalty."
Geoffrey was not prepared for the mighty whack he received on his shoulder, nor the deep bellow of laughter that filled his ears, making them ring. "You will have my time, my lord, for time is all I have to give. And there is much on my mind also… much I would like to ask you."
"So be it," Geoffrey responded.
"You would have fought for my pledge?" the grandfather asked, chuckling.
"Aye, and won too," Geoffrey replied, smiling.
"Do not be too sure of yourself. I've still strength left in these old bones. I'm thinking I'd have the advantage of the wisdom age gives." His eyes sparkled at Geoffrey's reaction.
The lord began to laugh. "Not a chance," he replied. "I have the strength of younger bones, old man, and would have cut you down in one quick blow."
"Ha! We will never know for sure, now, will we?" her grandfather teased. He threw his arm around Geoffrey just as if they had been boyhood friends and changed the subject before her husband could answer. "Know you the treasure you have in your new wife?" he asked. And then, before Geoffrey could speak, he said, "I have a terrible thirst for a cool drink, Baron. Share a toast with me to your marriage."
Geoffrey was chuckling as the two men walked up the steps and disappeared behind the doors. Her grandfather was saying something in a low voice and then her husband's deep laughter reached her ears. He was actually laughing! Elizabeth looked to the sky and saw that the sun was shining. Amazing, she thought. There wasn't a single rain cloud in sight!
It was nearly the dinner hour, and still Geoffrey continued in deep conversation with Elizabeth's grandfather. They sat at the long table, across from each other, with cups of ale before them. Twice she tried to join them in their discussion but both times the talk would stop and both men would simply stare at her. They made it very obvious that they did not wish her present.
She knew the talk concerned Belwain and the "other" that Geoffrey had hinted at and decided that they were planning their course of action. God, give me the strength to see this charade through, to look at Belwain and not plunge my knife into his heart.
Elizabeth grew increasingly restless. She sought solitude and went for a walk, and although she could not bring herself to visit the graves, she headed in that direction. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow to the horizon. In the distance, on the knoll, she could see the wooden crosses anointing the freshly turned earth, marking the area where her family was buried.
"Granddaughter?" Her grandfather's voice intruded and she turned and watched him make his way to her.
"I was this very minute wishing you were by my side," she said, smiling. "Grandfather, I am so very glad you are here." She grabbed his hand with both of hers and held it in a tight grip.
"You were going to the graves?" her grandfather asked.
"No," Elizabeth admitted. "I cannot say good-bye yet."
"And have you wept for your parents, your sisters?" he asked, his voice soft.
"No. Perhaps when it is done, when Belwain is punished—"
"Do not wait," her grandfather said, "cry for them now, before it becomes too bottled up inside you. It will tear at your insides then and make you a bitter woman. Your mother would not have wanted that."
Elizabeth considered his advice and nodded. "I will try, if it will please you, Grandfather."
"You always please me, Granddaughter. Don't you know that?"
Elizabeth smiled. What he said was true. He gave her his love without restrictions, without rules. And most important, he accepted her for what she was.
"You have a new life now, Elizabeth. Are you truly content with Geoffrey?" he asked.
"It is too soon to know that," Elizabeth replied. She let go of his hand and the two began to walk, side by side. "I try to follow my mother's example in playing the wife, but find it a most arduous task. Geoffrey is nothing like father. He is so hard… like steel. And he covers his emotions so that I am never quite sure what he is thinking. I do not think he is content with me but that too is too soon to tell."
"What makes you think him discontent?" her grandfather asked. "You have only been married one day," he said, trying not to smile.
"Almost two, Grandfather, but you are right, it is too soon to make such a judgment. Still there are his rules…" Elizabeth paused, gathering her thoughts. Was it disloyal to discuss her husband with her grandfather? she considered.
"Rules?" her grandfather asked, nudging her into a decision.
"Yes," Elizabeth answered. "Rules of how I should act, what I should do. I think he considers me illprepared to be his wife, and in truth, he is right. It is but a role I play and I do not know how long I can wear the mask of deceit."
"I do not understand," her grandfather said.
"I have not shown my temper once since meeting Geoffrey and have tried to act with great humility." She saw that her grandfather was about to laugh and frowned up at him. "I have been a gentle, obedient wife these past two days."
"The strain must be terrible," her grandfather said, chuckling. His tone grew serious but the twinkle remained in his eyes when he added, "I do see your problem. You wish to be meek but find it not in your character."
"Exactly." Elizabeth was pleased that her grandfather understood. "It is most difficult indeed. To keep my thoughts inside."
"Is it that you wish to be master here?" he teased,
"No, of course not!" Elizabeth was surprised by his question. "Please do not jest with me. I am most serious."
"Then what is it you wish?"
Elizabeth stopped walking and turned to her grandfather. "To be a good wife, to rule with my husband, to stand at his side."
"And you do not think this will come to pass?" her grandfather asked.
"Nay, I do not," Elizabeth answered, shaking her head for emphasis. "He would have me locked inside the walls, without a comment of my own, I fear. And when he discovers I have no talent with the needle, or with the household affairs, he will undoubtedly despair. Oh, but I wish I had spent more time with my mother. It will mean nothing to Geoffrey that I can hunt with the best of his men and bring down as many kills. Worse, when he sees me without my mask, I fear he will—"
"Why do you think he married you?"
"Because of my father, and his failure to help him in his time of need," Elizabeth responded. That was such an obvious conclusion she couldn't understand why her grandfather hadn't realized it.
"Think you he marries each time there is a situation like this?"
"Well, of course not, but this is the first time he has been called on to—"
"Elizabeth, you confuse yourself with your thoughts and conclusions. Your husband was not at fault for what happened here. The safety within these walls fell to your father. A trap was laid for him, and there wasn't any way that Geoffrey could have prevented what occurred." Her grandfather sounded a little exasperated and Elizabeth grew irritated.
"Then why do you think he married me?" she asked.
"I do not think that Geoffrey does anything he does not want to do. I think he wanted you for a wife."
"Because I was his responsibility," Elizabeth added. "He felt it was his duty." El
izabeth sighed and added, "Honor is the reason, he is an honorable man."
"I agree that he does not know you in full yet, but I believe he will be most pleased when you remove your 'mask' and be yourself. Do not try to imitate your mother. In time you will learn the duties of being a good wife, just as Geoffrey will learn how to be a good husband."
"Do you like him, Grandfather?" Elizabeth asked. His answer was important, as she valued his opinion. He was an astute judge of character, and not easily fooled. She hoped his reply would be favorable to Geoffrey, admitted that she wished him to admire her husband. Why, she couldn't explain.
"Yes, I do like him. He seems an honest man. He is much younger than the other barons of his stature, from what I was able to learn. And much favored by the king himself."
Elizabeth swelled with pride, as if it was she who was receiving the compliments. She nodded and said, "Roger hinted that he saved the king's life."
"I would believe it," her grandfather agreed. "He seems to possess many good qualities, Granddaughter."
"But there are faults too," Elizabeth said to counter the praise. She did not wish her grandfather to become overly impressed, to place her husband upon a pedestal. He was, after all, only a man. And pedestals could crumble. "He is very stubborn."
"And you are not?"
"No! I am a most agreeable person."
"Then you will have no problem adapting to your baron's rules?" her grandfather teased.
"I did not say that," Elizabeth replied, laughing at the way her words had been twisted. "Perhaps it will be easier if I ignore the rules completely. What say you to that?"
"He will not be so easily led, Elizabeth," her grandfather warned. "But there will be joy in the battle, I believe."
"Have you seen your grandson?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Aye, he was brought to me," her grandfather answered. "He did not recognize me and I felt like weeping like a woman when he did not."
Elizabeth could not imagine her grandfather weeping and shook her head. "You carry your grief inside you too, Grandfather. Why, in all these years, the only time I have seen you cry was when you bested my father and laughed so hard that tears rolled down your cheeks."
Gentle Warrior Page 12