Brianna hid a grin. Little Matilda didn’t take well to being a lady. She had been much too used to running free in the great outdoors, and sitting endless hours while she tried to perfect tiny little stitches was not what she considered fun. Yet she tried hard, because she wanted to please Marie.
“Would you like to try?” Brianna asked her.
Her eyes lit up and she vigorously nodded her head. Taking some of the dried vines, Brianna handed them to the child and proceeded to show her how to twist them into wreaths. The final outcome was not perfect but it was very good for a first try. Brianna praised her efforts and was rewarded with a huge smile.
Christmas was a very important holiday for the people of the manor. The villeins looked forward to having a fortnight free from labor, from Christmas Eve until Twelfth Night.
Already the fields had been cleared by the cattle and were barren of everything, even stubble. After Twelfth Night, it would be time to ready the fields for planting.
Mary was busy in the kitchen with some of the other women, making candles that Garek intended to use as gifts to the villeins. It was a luxury that would be very appreciated.
Several of the villeins had been sent into the forest to clear it of dead wood and to choose a few other trees that would be used for firewood for the manor’s servants. The firewood would be a generous bonus gift from the lord of the manor.
Everywhere the servants were bustling in preparation for the coming holiday and the arrival of the king.
Brianna took the wreath she had finished and called for Gavin, the manor chamberlain. Together they managed to hoist the monstrous wreath to the center of the wall above the dais at the far end of the room. Gavin dropped the wreath onto the peg protruding from the wall.
Satisfied, Brianna went back to help Matilda with her own wreath. In the end it was decided that Matilda could use the decoration for her and Marie’s room. Marie had generously allowed the child to sleep with her, together sharing the same bed.
After helping the girl hang the wreath in the bed chamber, Brianna returned to finish decorating the main hall. She hung kissing balls from the ceiling rafters, the clean scent of bay and cloves adding a pungent scent to the smoky room.
Gavin had opened the windows, but still much smoke from the fire hung suspended in the great room, for there was nowhere for it to go but out the small windows and the main door when it was opened. One grew accustomed to the smoky atmosphere.
Everywhere the hall was decked with red and green, increasing the festivity. Green was the symbol of continued life throughout the winter, and red the symbol of Christ’s blood. Brianna took this seasonal opportunity to explain the symbolism to anyone and everyone who would listen. Many, whether touched by the season or not, gave their lives to Christ.
Smiling at Sir Triden as he passed her on his way to see Garek, Brianna realized for the first time how much she missed seeing most of Garek’s knights around the manor, for Garek had given each man his own fief and they were busily preparing their own homes.
Serin and Aleene would be coming for the Christmas celebration, and Brianna could hardly wait to see them. Aleene was already heavy with child, and it looked like she might be the first to produce offspring in the coming year.
That she and Serin were happy was obvious, and it gave Brianna great pleasure to watch their loving interchanges. If she grew melancholy over the thought that she could not share the same joy, she firmly berated herself for such thoughts.
Although special rents were due from the tenants at Christmastide, Garek had chosen to suspend them and allow the tenants to keep what little provender they had. Since the country was still recovering from the ravages of war, it was a generous offer and was greatly appreciated.
Whether it was his intention or no, Garek was amassing a devoted band of followers. Even young Andrew, the villein who had visited Brianna at the convent, had succumbed to his benevolence.
Such things only made Brianna’s own love for the man grow stronger. She could see how God was using Garek to serve her people, for a different lord might not have been so kind. She truly believed that God had a purpose for his life.
For the most part, Garek left Brianna alone. But there were times when they would be accidentally thrown together and Brianna would have to fight the attraction she felt for him.
It was only two days until Christmas and Brianna was busily arranging tablecloths on the extra trestle tables in preparation for King William’s arrival the next day. Rain poured from leaden skies, leaving the manor house dank and cold. The torches could not dispel the gloom, and Brianna shivered with the clammy cold.
Garek strode into the room, stopping just over the threshold. He hadn’t realized that Brianna was in the room, and even now he felt a thrill run through him at the sight of her. His eyes skimmed her figure, noticing that although she had managed to regain some weight, she was still little more than bones.
Dark circles under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights. He empathized with her, for his own nights were much the same. He knew this came from worrying over the future, but he wondered how much was due to their close proximity to each other.
Still, until he could speak with William, there was nothing he could do.
Brianna stood, pulling the table linen to her chest. “I. . .I was preparing the room for the morrow,” she told him, realizing they were alone.
He continued to stare at her and Brianna noticed the tick in his cheek. She saw him take a deep breath and then walk to the fire, bending down and reaching his frozen fingers toward the warmth. “It is no matter. Finish what you are doing.”
Brianna chanced a glance at him and noticed his condition. His hair clung wetly to his head as his clothes did to his body. His tunic was shredded and hung in strips. Brianna’s eyes went wide.
“What happened?”
Garek pulled the torn garment over his head, twisted it into a ball, and threw it into the fire. He rose to his feet intending to retrieve a fresh tunic, when Brianna noticed the lacerations across his arms and chest.
“Garek! You are hurt.”
Dumping the linen on the floor, she crossed quickly to him. She gently stroked a finger across a bloody welt, and as she did, Garek pulled away from her. “It is nothing.”
Hands planted firmly on her hips, Brianna glared at him. “It is something. If the wounds are not tended, they may fester and poison your blood. Stay just as you are and I will fetch a healing balm that Alfred left for me.”
“Brianna. . .”
One look from those fierce blue eyes silenced him. Shrug-ging, he returned to his place by the fire, leaning forward to absorb more of the meager heat.
Brianna was back in a moment, carrying a basket with linen strips and the concoction she had spoken of. She came and stood between his knees and gently began to rub the salve into his wounds. So fierce was her concentration, she failed to notice the darkening of the gray eyes before her.
“How did this happen?”
Garek sucked in a sharp breath as the salve began to sting the wounds. “We were cutting the tree for the Yule log. One of the villeins, Matthew I think his name was, did not see the tree falling in his direction.”
She looked into his eyes, her own softening. “You saved him?” It was more a statement than a question.
“I merely shoved him out of the way.”
She frowned. “But how did you come by these cuts?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in a half grin. “The tree fell on me instead,” he told her sheepishly.
Her face paled, and Garek noticed. “It is nothing, I tell you. I am well, though minus one tunic.”
Taking a deep breath she tried to match his light tone. “I will make you another.”
He grinned at her, and she smiled in return. She took another dip of salve but Garek took her gently by the wrist when she reached toward his chest to apply it. “It is enough,” he told her, an odd note in his voice.
She glanced at him in surprise,
her brows furrowed in consternation. “But I am not finished.”
Garek chose his words carefully. “Brianna, if you do not leave this room now, you might not leave it at all.”
Her eyes jerked up to his and for the first time she noticed the desire therein. She swallowed hard, a rosy hue staining her cheeks. Again it occurred to her how very alone they were.
Slowly he released her wrist and she hastily smoothed the salve back into its container. “As you wish, milord,” she answered breathlessly. “I will leave the salve for you to apply.”
Quickly gathering up the basket and the linen, Brianna made a hasty exit, her heart thundering in her chest.
Garek watched her leave, his face devoid of emotion. Sighing loudly, he leaned his head in his hands, tiredly rubbing his face. He could feel his heart slow from its erratic pace. Something had to be done. And soon.
❧
Brianna wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this certainly was not it. King William was tall and well built, his face clean shaven in the Norman style. His reddish hair cupped closely around his head like a cap and he had a firm, angular jaw. The jaw itself told her he was a man to be reckoned with.
It still amazed her that a man from such humble beginnings had risen to such great power despite being an illegitimate son. Still, there was something about the merry twinkle in his brown eyes that assured Brianna the man was not quite as ruthless as others suggested. Fortunately for Brianna, she had no knowledge of his martial exploits, or she would not have felt so secure in her assessment of the conqueror.
William greeted Garek as though they were old friends. When he climbed from his mount he stood shorter than the dark knight by several inches, but he was still a commanding figure.
William seemed to know all of Garek’s knights and it was obvious they held him in high esteem. They had all arrived only that morning to pay their respects to their king.
It was Etienne who took Brianna by the hand and pulled her forward to meet the king. Brianna did not miss the lowering of Garek’s angry brows. Curtsying low before William, Brianna found the king’s unsmiling gaze focused upon her. She wondered what the knight had told his king.
“So, this is the blue-eyed angel.”
Brianna flushed a becoming red. “Sire, I think you have been misinformed.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “We shall see.”
They made their way into the great hall of the keep and William looked around in appreciation of the structure.
“Chevier did well for himself. Is this how you found it?”
Garek nodded. “Aye, Sire. We have made a few changes and additions, but for the most part, this is what it looked like when I arrived.”
William shook his head sadly. “Poor Chevier.” His looked roamed the room. “Where is Marie Waverly? I would offer my condolences.”
“She is attending to some things,” Brianna answered him. “She did not know you had arrived or she would have been here to meet you.”
William’s gaze focused on Brianna again. “We have many things to discuss, Garek, but for now I could use a drink.”
“What would you have, my liege? We can offer you ale, wine, even water or milk.”
The king grinned. “I will save that pleasure for my later years, if I have any. Have you any mulled wine?”
“Certainly.” Garek motioned to the butler who brought the king a tankard of the steaming brew, then he hastened to the buttery to retrieve a few extra bottles of wine to be mulled.
Garek gave his own great chair to William, then the others of the king’s party made themselves comfortable around the circular fire hearth.
The tree Garek had chopped the previous day now was displayed prominently, taking up the whole hearth. It would continue to burn until Twelfth Night.
Brianna tried not to look at the huge log because every time she did, she remembered yesterday. She glanced at Garek and found him watching her, a knowing smile upon his lips. Coloring hotly, Brianna excused herself to the kitchen.
Since it was nearly time for the evening meal, the hall servants were in the process of setting up the trestle tables. The laundress sighed as she watched the table cloths being draped, for it meant extra work for her now that there were twice as many people to feed. Brianna smiled sympathetically.
Mary, on the other hand, thrived on the extra work. Either that, or one of the king’s knights who had traveled with William had caught her interest. Her eyes sparkled, and her face was flushed.
Brianna shook her head, one corner of her mouth twisting wryly. She hoped her friend would one day settle down. But although Mary was long past earliest marrying age, her beauty guaranteed she would not have to remain that way. Of course, beauty was fleeting, as King Solomon had said. Brianna fervently hoped her friend would choose to marry soon.
When Brianna returned to the great hall, she found Garek and William deep in conversation. Periodically their laughter reached her ears and she wondered what they were discussing.
Since Marie Waverly had not yet made an appearance, Brianna went in search of her. She found her in the chapel, on her knees. Surprised, Brianna waited until the young woman rose to her feet before making any movement.
Marie glanced up and saw Brianna at the door. She smiled hesitantly as she approached her. “I have thought a lot about what you have told me, and I have decided to give my life to Christ. I came here to tell Him that I trust Him, and that I will abide by His will for my life, whether that be as lady of this manor or not.”
Tears came to Brianna’s eyes, and reaching out, she hugged Marie. “I am so glad for you. And remember, He will always be here for you. You can turn every burden over to Him and let Him do the worrying for you.”
Marie studied her friend quietly. “If you believe that to be true, Brianna, then why do you look like you do? Why are there circles under your eyes and your clothes hanging from you like sacks?”
Brianna could only stare. Marie shrugged her shoulders. “You were looking for me?”
Pulling herself from the daze that Marie’s words had sent her into, Brianna nodded. “Yea. King William has arrived and would like to see you.”
Although the color left the younger woman’s face, the peaceful serenity of her eyes never wavered. “I will go see him now.”
When Brianna didn’t follow her, Marie turned in surprise. “Are you not coming with me?”
“Nay. I will come soon, but I wish to spend some time here first.”
A brief smile of understanding touched the other girl’s lips. “I will tell Garek.”
Brianna didn’t hear her. Indeed, Brianna’s thoughts were on what Marie had said earlier. Going to the forward bench, Brianna seated herself, her eyes fixed upward on the wooden cross that been carved by the village carpenter. She knew Dressler would be happy with all the business the manor was giving him, but of all his work, this carving was by far the best she had ever seen.
She stared intently at the cross, her mind churning with her thoughts.
Marie had accepted Christ and had immediately rested on His promises to provide what was necessary for her life. She trusted God, so no matter what might come, Marie knew all things would work out for her own good. She trusted God. She trusted God! The words seemed to echo in Brianna’s mind.
Brianna hung her head in shame. For all her mouthing of platitudes and admonishments to others, she knew she had not trusted the Lord with her own life lately. She had been fretting and fussing, begging and pleading, never trusting that God knew what He was about.
“Forgive me, Lord,” she whispered. “Help me to trust in You and never forget that whatever happens, nothing happens that is not according to Your will.”
She felt a sense of peace, which had been missing from her life lately, begin to flow through her again. It was only when her eyes turned outward that she was drawn away from God’s will for her life. This was the time she was weakest, and Satan realized this and attacked her vulnerability. When her eyes were turned i
nward, then and only then was she focused on God’s will for her life.
She felt movement at her feet and looked down. “What are you doing here? How did you get out of our room?”
Beowulf’s little black tail wagged rapidly against the stone floor. Black beady eyes sparkled up at her from a bewhiskered face that surrounded a perpetual grin.
“He was lonely.”
Brianna whirled around to face little Matilda. Brianna smiled in sympathy. So much had been happening the last few days to get ready for the king’s arrival, that neither Marie nor Brianna had had much time for the child. “And were you lonely also?”
Auburn curls bobbing, the child climbed up on the bench next to Brianna. Matilda studied Brianna thoughtfully.
“My mama prayed a lot. So did my daddy. Why are you praying? Does God really listen to you? He did not listen to my mama.”
Pruning this tangled comment to its essence took but a moment, and Brianna cut to the heart of the child’s concern. “Why do you think God did not listen to your mama?”
Matilda shrugged, pursing her lips and turning to the cross. “She asked Him to keep my daddy safe, but he died anyway. She also asked Him to make her well, but she. . .she still died.”
Brianna took the child onto her lap. “Then He still answered her, Matilda.”
Surprised, the girl turned to inspect Brianna’s face curiously. “He did?”
Brianna nodded her head. “Yea, Matilda. He always answers our prayers.” She hesitated a moment and then told the child softly, “He said, Nay.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. The wonder on the child’s face brought a small smile to Brianna’s. “You mean that God says nay just like mama and papa did sometimes?”
Brianna nodded. “Sometimes we do not understand why, but God does. We just have to trust Him.”
Looking as though she had been caught stealing, Matilda ducked her head. “I heard you talking to God. I heard you say that you would trust Him. I am sorry that I listened.”
A Light Within Page 14