by Lynn Wood
Nathan thrust a hand through his long hair, wondering how he was supposed to respond to his liege lord’s teasing comment.
William was apparently not finished with him yet. “You do find your new wife’s company pleasing, do you not?”
Nathan gave up the battle to maintain an appropriate level of formality between them. “Yes, my lord. Though she appears to be in desperate need of a firm hand on the reins, if you take my meaning.”
William laughed delightedly. “Yes, I was quite conscious of her unbroken spirit within minutes of her arrival in my home. You do remember our initial encounter do you not?”
Nathan grinned at the memory of Rhiann’s barely concealed insolence before the new monarch.
William shared his amusement at the memory. “I believe you are exactly the man who can supply that firm hand Nathan, without breaking the spirit accompanying it.”
“Two days ago I would have agreed with you, sire. Now I’m not sure who’s training who in this marriage.”
William’s booming laughter erupted at Nathan’s honest admission. He clapped him on the back in a show of male commiseration. “Yes, it seems clear the former lord of Heaven’s Crest allowed himself to become hopelessly entangled in the spell of his beautiful, younger daughter. It remains to be seen if the current lord of Heaven’s Crest will make any more effort to extricate himself than his predecessor did.”
Nathan sighed ruefully. “Admittedly sire I am in no hurry to do so. But I assure you, I have not forgotten my duties or loyalties to my lord and king.”
William patted Nathan’s arm affectionately. “Of that my friend, I have no doubt.”
When they entered the keep, Nathan assumed his eyes were still adjusting to the dimmer lighting inside, else he would have sworn he saw his bride huddled close to the new queen on a padded bench placed in front of the fire for warmth. The two women’s heads were bent together and his wife was removing the jeweled dagger she seemed intent on wearing strapped to her arm and handing it to the queen.
Nathan’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of his wife drawing a weapon in the queen’s presence. William smiled over his friend’s astonishment and patted his arm again in sympathy. Nathan looked at the queen’s guard, noted William wave them off, and wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or nervous that their anxiety over the situation seemed to match his own.
His wife’s foolishness left him in an uncomfortable position. He could hardly interrupt her conversation with the queen without invitation, yet he was somewhat concerned what she might next take into her head that the queen’s guard might object to in a more strenuous manner. He was as relieved as the guard when the queen handed the dagger back to Rhiann and she fitted it safely back in the leather strap on her upper arm.
Curious, William stepped closer so he could hear the conversation between the two women, who appeared oblivious to their audience. William motioned silently his permission for Nathan to accompany him.
Nathan couldn’t restrain his start of surprise at the queen’s comment, spoken in a low voice. “So the dagger serves as a reminder life is a choice you make each day.”
Rhiann turned at Nathan’s outraged gasp. “Nathan I didn’t see you come in.” Seeing the king at his side she quickly jumped to her feet then rushed around the bench to kneel before him.
“Rise, my dear, and please take your seat and finish this fascinating conversation. I believe you were explaining to Matilda the significance of the dagger you wear on your arm.”
Nathan watched his wife’s eyes dart nervously between the king and himself, but she was obviously in no hurry to comply with the king’s request. Sensing her young friend’s hesitancy before both the king and her new husband, Matilda filled the awkward gap as Rhiann silently took her place again on the bench.
“Yes, dear, Rhiann was explaining her grandmother sent the dagger to her as a reminder that each of us is given a choice to go on living or not.”
Nathan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The church did not give one permission to end his or her life no matter how miserable the life in question was. What his wife suggested was blasphemy. Suicide was a mortal sin. Surely he misunderstood the queen’s explanation and accompanying implication. “And if the person on the receiving end of the dagger decided continuing to go on living was not her choice?” His voice was unnaturally quiet.
The queen and king exchanged an amused glance, but Matilda deferred the answer to Nathan’s question to Rhiann, who was silently regarding him with increasing anxiety. “I do not wish to discuss traditions anymore. Please forgive me for upsetting you.”
“I don’t give a damn whether or not you wish to discuss traditions anymore; we are not through discussing them. And I am not upset for God’s sake, I’m furious at the suggestion you might one day decide your life was not worth continuing and you feel you have the right to use that ridiculous dagger to end it.”
He was shouting by the time he finished instructing his wife and expected her to cower before his righteous fury. Apparently his bride was not yet done surprising him. Rather than tremble before his just outrage, she jumped up again from her place next to the queen and actually dared to stamp her foot, her eyes blazing with a fury to match his own when she shouted back at him. “How dare you call my family’s sacred traditions ridiculous? I would never insult your family in such a manner. And yes, it is my life, husband, and if I decide to return His gift to our heavenly Father, it is my right to do so.”
Nathan could not credit his wife would actually challenge him so openly before his lord. If one of his men dared defy him as his wife seemed intent on doing he would be sorely pressed not to kill him for his insolence. He could hardly kill his wife, he accepted reluctantly, though he was beginning to understand certain men’s inclinations to beat theirs.
The hall had grown unnaturally quiet while everyone in it awaited his reaction to the obvious challenge Rhiann just issued. His reputation did not favor his wife. He dropped his voice so only Rhiann and the king and queen could hear his response. “I beg to differ, wife. You are my property. Your life belongs to me. You have no rights in the matter.”
Rhiann’s face leeched of all color. Where a fine blush rested on it moments ago, her skin paled until it was now a deathly white. The green fire in her eyes was mercilessly quenched. Her hushed voice, devoid of all emotion, matched his own.
“Thank you for your instruction in regards to my worth to you, husband.” Each stilted word acted as a lash against his conscious. Was he so concerned about his status before his king and his fellow noblemen he could not make allowances for his wife’s extreme youth and very near grief? Rhiann apparently wasn’t through chastising him yet. She reached over and drew the dagger out of its strap and presented it to him hilt first. “As I am now your property I must assume this ‘ridiculous’ dagger also belongs to you.” She reached around her neck and removed the chain holding the unusual stone her mother left her and handed it to him as well. “This at least I am happy to pass to a new keeper. May you find joy in it. I cannot. The stone is stained with my mother’s blood.”
The bells in her hair sounded in mournful communion and then fell quiet as she dropped her arms back to her side. Her eyes glistened with tears now, her fury spent as quickly as it arose. She even dropped her head in what another might interpret as respect for his just position as her lord. He read only defeat in her subdued manner. “I won’t trouble you further with my ridiculous presence.”
She turned to William, her head still bent. “With your permission, sire.” She didn’t lift her glance to see if the king granted her request or not, but turned quickly away and hurried towards the stairs, no doubt her intent to escape her husband’s obnoxious presence as swiftly as possible.
Nathan looked down at the dagger and the odd stone resting in his still outstretched hand. “What the hell am I supposed to do with these?” He muttered, and then swiftly apologized to his lord’s wife for voicing the profanity in her presence.
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br /> Matilda regarded him sympathetically and waved off his apology before excusing herself and leaving the two men alone. “Perhaps sire you wish to re-evaluate your conclusion I am the right man to instill some discipline into my wife’s life without breaking her spirit.”
“No, Nathan. I have no doubts in that regard, but she is fragile, son. Be gentle with her tender heart.”
How was he supposed to do that? Nathan asked himself silently. By returning the damned, ridiculous dagger to her so she could end her life with it whenever she objected to one of his dictates? He eyed the stone curiously. In the few moments it was removed from its place nestled between the warmth of his wife’s breasts, the stone lost all color and warmth. It now felt like ice in his hand. He picked up the chain with his other hand and examined the now dark stone in the light of the fire. There was no sign left of the emerald color it took on against his wife’s skin. Instead, it appeared as cold and lifeless as it felt. Like death against the warmth of his hand. “Have you ever seen anything like this stone?”
“No.” William replied, eyeing it just as curiously. “Though I believe my wife spoke the truth when she suggested such things are better left in the hands of their rightful owners.”
Nathan nodded. “I can assure, sire, I plan to see it is returned to its rightful keeper at the earliest opportunity.” When he parted from William, Nathan considered following Rhiann to his rooms, and then decided he needed a little time to calm down and clear his head before confronting his wife. He needed to figure out how to convince her they must find some form of common ground between them that did not involve potential suicide on her part whenever she decided her new life with him was unbearable.
Through the window overlooking the courtyard, Rhiann watched Nathan leave the keep and stride off in the direction of his men’s tents. She supposed he was anxious to get away from her. Across the courtyard she saw Father Bernard in the courtyard of the small church dwarfed by the new abbey.
Tears stung her eyes at the fresh memory of the awful scene with her husband. For a moment she was afraid Nathan might strike her when she challenged him so forcefully in front of the new king and queen. She knew there were not many who would contest his right to do so. Some of them would be cheering him on at the prospect of witnessing her humiliation at her husband’s hands. She was appalled at her behavior and was grateful neither of her parents was alive to see her act with such ill grace. They would have been gravely embarrassed by their daughter shrieking at her husband like a common fish-wife.
Thinking to escape the close confines of the room and the feeling of the walls closing in on her, she decided to go re-introduce herself to the priest who married her and find out when daily mass was offered. Maybe resorting to her former routine before the war would help her find her center.
Nathan was busy instructing his men and was annoyed at their distraction at the sight of some scene unfolding over his shoulder. Curious at the cause, he turned to find his wife striding towards the old parish church. He sighed at the sight of her leaving the keep without an escort and made a mental note to add her lack of care for her personal safety to the list of things he wished to discuss with her. He motioned for one of his men to follow her and the man bowed and trailed hurriedly after his wife, who seemed oblivious to his protection.
Rhiann entered the sanctuary of the small church and tears filled her eyes at the hushed quiet of the interior. Dwarfed by the abbey still under construction which was originally undertaken to serve the needs of her former Saxon king, she was nonetheless aware of the sacred aura emanating from the more humble altar in comparison to its exalted neighbor’s. She stepped quietly forward, kneeling with her head bowed before she approached the front of the church. Genuflecting beside one of the pews, she knelt on the wooden kneeler and bowed her head before her creator, her thoughts in turmoil. She wasn’t adjusting very well to her new status in life. She imagined God was on Nathan’s side in their dispute. He was a man, after all.
“Daughter.” The tears she held back until now streamed down her face as she lifted her head to the altar at the gentle call to her heart.
“I’m sorry.” Her whispered prayer emanated more from her heart than her lips. No sound of her heartfelt regret disturbed the reverent silence of the church.
“Daughter, you misjudge me. Do you think I am unaware of your sufferings? Do you believe I don’t feel your grief in my heart?”
“They’re all gone. You took them away from me.” She poured out her complaint, even knowing she had no right to question God.
“And you think I did this to punish you?”
Rhiann drew a deep breath and brushed aside her tears. “No, of course not.”
“Are you not pleased with the husband I chose for you?”
The tears fell faster. “Yes, but I do not know how to be a good wife to him and there is no one left to instruct me.”
“I am here.”
“You have more important matters to see to.”
“There is nothing more important to me than my children’s happiness.”
Rhiann fell silent wondering how that could possibly be true. She wouldn’t ask. She figured she’d done enough challenging of her lords this morning, both her husband and her God. In the silence that fell between them she could hear the sounds of children playing in the small courtyard of the church outside the windows. Even though they were orphaned in the war, she knew they were the lucky ones.
Father Bernard had generously taken them in. What about all those who were displaced in the war who didn’t have a Father Bernard to see to their needs? The priest was an old man. What if he was called away by his superiors in the church? Who would see to the children? Who would make sure they were fed and warm and had some place to go?
“Try to have some faith in me, daughter.”
Even though His rebuke was a gentle one, she was overset by it. She felt as though every door of her old life was slamming shut on her. She couldn’t seem to find her place in this new Norman world. She was unused to having so much unstructured time on her hands. She knew Nathan was being considerate of her by not asking anything of her beyond catching up on her rest, but she needed to find some sound footing in this new order and knew she was unlikely to find it resting in her husband’s bed.
She was distracted from her self-pitying musings by the renewed sound of children’s laughter reaching her through the heavy doors of the church. The joyful noise only served to emphasize her dissatisfaction with herself. These children lost everything and yet they could still laugh with their friends and find joy in a new day.
It was time Rhiann took a lesson from the children. She would stop bemoaning what she could never have again and take a positive step into her new life. She was the mistress of Heaven’s Crest now. She would have responsibilities to see to when Nathan was released from the king’s service and they returned home. For now, she would do what she could to begin fulfilling those responsibilities. The first of them was to speak to Father Bernard about the children’s needs and see what she could do to ease them.
The elder priest’s gentle manner was a balm to her shattered spirit. Rhiann spent the afternoon with Father Bernard discussing the charitable needs of the children and those left homeless by the invasion. She was overwhelmed by the list of essentials the old priest rattled off. Normally she would have promised to help, but she no longer had access to Heaven’s Crest’s accounts and since Nathan made it perfectly clear he considered her nothing more than his property, she was hesitant to make any promises in his name.
Her eyes took in the wretched looking crowd gathering for the midday meal. She saw a young mother nursing her infant, dressed in little better than rags. She inquired as to her story of Father Bernard and he shook his head, confiding quietly.
“Her name is Willa. She is the widow of a Saxon soldier who died before his son was birthed. Their cottage was destroyed in the invasion. She has no place to go. Like all of those gathered here in God’s house. The
y are here because they have no place else to go.”
Rhiann nodded, thinking how illused she felt by her change in fortunes at the Norman invasion. Yet here she stood dressed in a fine gown and warm cloak with a wonderfully patient, gentle lover, a live husband, and still mistress of her former home. She stood and removed her cloak and pressed it into Father Bernard’s reluctant hands. “Please Father. I have little else to offer, but will you give this to Willa?”
The priest accepted her offering, blessing her for her generosity. Rhiann wasn’t sure how to respond other than to thank him as graciously as she could. She felt even guiltier about the earlier scene she instigated with her husband and promised herself she would apologize for her shrewish behavior at the earliest opportunity.
In the meantime, she was determined not to try Nathan’s temper further by being late for dinner at the king’s table. After assisting Father with his youngest charges, she exited the small church. She was surprised at the chill air after the relative warmth of the church and rubbed her arms against the cold, even while at the same time refusing the cloak Nathan’s soldier tried to wrap around her soldiers, not wanting to deprive the man of its warmth.
She caught sight of her husband striding towards her and cringed at the sight of the dark expression on his face, concluding he was still angry with her from earlier. Bowing her head as a good submissive wife would, she halted in the middle of the courtyard and waited for him to approach. She felt the warmth of his massive cloak wrap around her though his hands were gentle as he tucked the ends close around her and then pulled her towards him. His tenderness was in direct contrast to the harshness of his voice as he berated her.
“Where is your cloak, wife? Are you determined to end your life by freezing yourself to death now I’ve taken possession of your sacred dagger?”
Rhiann remained quiet, staring down at the ground between them. She was uncertain if Nathan was expecting her to answer him or not, so she concluded the safer bet was for her to remain silent.