by Tamara Leigh
The Book of Wulfrith, begun by Sir Elias de Morville in the twelfth century, chronicling their family beginning with the sire of the eleventh-century Saxon lady of the House of Wulfrith who wed a Norman knight of the House of D’Argent, included a narrative titled The Tale of the Lost D’Argent. Hector’s grandmother, tale-giver and keeper of the book, had warned it could be more imagination than truth since it was not written down until a century after its events. Still, she believed its every word—except for the unicorn, she had added and winked at the boy who sat at her feet.
So here proof the D’Argent cousin who disappeared from England had done so with the woman who, rather than aid in overthrowing King William, escaped marriage to the King of Denmark’s son and instead wed Maël D’Argent? If so, was it also proof the boy standing before him was not only a D’Argent descendant but blood of the last Anglo-Saxon king of England?
Hector set the second parchment alongside the first, returned his regard to Sévère whose lips were pressed so tight one would not know there had been fullness about them earlier. “Intriguing,” he said and nodded at the cask. “What else have you?”
Once more the lid was raised. This time it was not parchment taken from the cask but something wrapped in black cloth.
Hector offered his hand and, feeling the brush of soft fingertips as the object was set in his palm, glanced at Sévère and paused over eyes averted above flushed cheeks.
Not a youth, he amended. So how old? Twenty? Aye, at most one or two steps up from there the same as—
Wrenching free of remembrance of the one he himself had laid in the ground, he turned back cloth fine enough to be a remnant of a larger piece used to fashion a lady’s gown. Center of it was a silver and gold brooch of fine workmanship—the letter G impaled on a sword whose point was tipped with a triangular ruby.
“You wish me to believe the G signifies Godwine,” Hector said. “That it was given to this Mercia as proof of her birth.”
“After what you have read and for how valuable the brooch, you must agree there is no other conclusion,” Sévére said.
“Nay, I must not agree, boy.” He folded the cloth over the brooch. “But if I did, it would change naught.”
“But—”
Sévère and Mace startled as the scrape of Hector’s chair resounded around the hall.
He straightened. “Whether or not this boy is of the family D’Argent that wed into the family Wulfrith, whether or not royal blood courses his veins, he is not of England.”
As Sévère’s mouth worked, evidencing a struggle for further argument, Hector swept up the parchments and strode the back of the dais.
“Baron Wulfrith,” Sévère appealed as he came around the table, “surely an exception can be made for—”
“Only if you can gain an audience with King Edward and persuade him to believe what you would have me believe. Both highly unlikely.”
Nearing, he noted the cask that had been closed following each extraction was left open the last time. Another item lay within, and the one who followed his gaze gasped and dropped the lid, belatedly concealing an opal set in an expanse of silver.
As Hector halted, Sévère fully turned to him and took a step forward as if to shield both cask and boy.
He extended the parchments and brooch.
Doubtless interpreting that as an end to their audience—and nearly it was—anger leapt in Sévère’s eyes and convulsed a jaw that would never be hard or broad enough to command the respect of warriors.
Then that one drew a strident breath, scooped up the brooch, and snatched away the parchments. “You know not what you—”
A yelp interrupting words that sought to cure him of ignorance, Hector watched as a tail of fair hair tumbled from beneath the cap he plucked off, then glanced from wide, stricken eyes to those of the boy beyond, next Squire Gwayn. “I do know what I do, Sévère,” he rumbled, then mockingly frowned. “Or is it Séverine?”
Gripping the items returned to her, the young woman splayed her arms as if to further shield Mace. Fear where there had been anger, she said in a voice now strained not to sound a man but to crawl past a constricted throat, “Forgive me, Baron. It was done to gain your ear since women are not permitted at Wulfen, and I was certain more credence would be accorded my appeal were it not presented by one of the fairer sex.”
Before he could respond, the boy said in French, “I told I could present it on my own, Séverine. Now see, you have made a mess of all. Never will I be admitted—”
“Never would you be admitted regardless had you presented the tale,” Hector growled. He had no reason to side with the woman, no reason to feel anything less than annoyance for the time she had stolen from him, but it was true there was no place for the boy at Wulfen. Too, it was impossible to ignore the chill desperation that had fallen upon Séverine like the blackest of nights when dense clouds and stinging rain blot out moon and stars.
“I am not vengeful, lady,” he said, though he knew not if she could lay claim to that title. “Exposing you is enough punishment for your deceit. Now I have duties that need tending.” He jutted his chin at the cask. “Take your treasures and go.”
Her stance and wariness eased, but she did not trust him enough to look away. Thus, she felt the brooch and parchments into the cask, tucked the box beneath her arm, and closed her mantle over it.
“Again, apologies, Baron. We shall trouble you no more.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Come, Mace. The day grows short.”
The boy shot Hector a resentful look then followed her from the dais.
Now that Séverine no longer played a young man, she walked like a lady, her gait smooth and bound hair gently swaying center of her back.
“Hold!” Hector called.
Seeing expectancy splash across the faces of those who spun around, he regretted they believed he gave them cause for hope. Merely, he could not have the one who entered as a young man depart as a woman in this place where the latter were not permitted.
There were exceptions, as when circumstances necessitated a baron of Wulfen extend his stay within these walls. So he not leave his wife too long absent her husband at the sister castle of Stern, she would join him here, remaining out of sight of the boys and young men so they not be distracted. Over the centuries, many were the Wulfrith babes conceived in this fortress exclusive to the training of boys into men—and several had been birthed here.
Not so for the current baron, and likely never since no longer did he keep a wife. And dared not take another.
Now as he strode toward Séverine who gave him no reason to be attracted to her, he noted once more her lips were full, having been parted by surprise, hope, and what might be the beginning of a smile of gratitude.
Glad she was on the plain side of pretty that had, for a short time, allowed her to fool him, he halted and held out her cap. “Best not to distract those whose minds must be on matters that will one day determine whether it is life that stands their sides or death.”
Hope purged, anger filling that space, Séverine snatched the cap from him, thrust it atop her head, shoved her hair beneath, and pivoted. But before she took a single step forward, she came back around. “How did you know I was not a man?”
Hector allowed a small smile. “You are not the first woman to enter here without permission. As your predecessor succeeded long enough to gain a measure of training, in the two hundred years since that lady humiliated my ancestor, those of Wulfen have been better trained to see beneath disguises that might endanger them and our great commission.”
Her eyes narrowed. “A lady, you say?”
“Annyn Bretanne, also an ancestor since later she wed the man she nearly disgraced.”
There, a bit of a smile, and though the woman remained relatively plain, it turned her somewhat attractive. “Good day, Baron.” Moments later, the doors closed behind her and the boy.
Hector remained unmoving some moments, then called, “To the training field, Squire Gwayn. I
have further lessons to impart ere day is done.”
But first, Séverine imparted one to him.
Do not expect an angry woman to be compliant, he told himself a short while later when, amid the buzz of astonished boys and young men, he saw the trespassers put heels to their mounts—no cap upon the woman’s head.
Dear Reader,
If you’re curious about this scene’s heading of EPILOGUE-EXCERPT-PROLOGUE, be curious no longer. As much as this is the Epilogue of HEARTLESS, it’s the Excerpt of the first book in the 14th century AGE OF HONOR series, releasing the year of our Lord, 2022 (or somewhere thereabouts). Meaning it’s also that tale’s Prologue, though it could end up being written in Séverine’s point of view. Well, providing this brewing new series comes to a boil. Am I excited about what’s ahead for the Wulfriths beyond the 8-book AGE OF CONQUEST and AGE OF FAITH series? You know I am!
Thank you for spending precious reading time with Sir Maël and Abbess Mary Sarah—er, Lady Mercia. If you enjoyed the fourth Wulfrith origins tale, I would appreciate a review of HEARTLESS at your online retailer—just a sentence or two, more if you have time.
Up next in the AGE OF CONQUEST series is RECKLESS, the love story of my Anglo-Saxon warrior, Vitalis, and Lady Nicola D’Argent. Watch for its release Autumn 2020.
For new releases and special promotions, subscribe to Tamara Leigh’s mailing list: www.tamaraleigh.com
AGE OF CONQUEST PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
Abelard: AA-buh-lahrd
Aelfled/Aelf: AYL-flehd
Aethelflaed: EH-thul-flehd
Aetheling: AA-thuh-leeng
Aiken: AY-kihn
Alditha: AHL-dee-thuh
Alfrith: AAL-frihth
Balliol: BAY-lee-uhl
Bernia: BUHR-nee-uh
Bjorn: BEE-yohrn
Boudica: BOO-dih-kuh
Campagnon: CAHM-paan-yah
Canute: Cuh-NOOT
Chanson: SHAHN-sahn
Cyr: SEE-uhr
D’Argent: DAR-zhahnt
Daryl: DAA-rihl
Dougray: DOO-gray
Ebbe: EH-buh
Eberhard: EH-buh-hahrt
Edelwine: EH-duhl-wihn
Ely: EE-lee
Em: EHM
Emma: EHM-uh
Estienne: EHs-tee-ihn
Fortier: FOHR-tee-ay
Fulbert: FOO-behr
Gerald: JEHR-uhld
Gloucester: GLAH-stuhr
Gloucestershire: GLAH-stuhr-shuhr
Godfroi: GAWD-frwah
Godwine: GAHD-wihn
Gospatric: GAHS-paa-trihk
Grandmesnil: GRAHN-may-neel
Guarin: GAA-rahn
Guy: Gee
Gwain: GWAYN
Gytha: JIY-thuh
Hawisa/Isa: HAH-wee-suh/EE-suh
Hugh: HYOO
Ingvar: EENG-Vah
Jaxon: JAAK-suhn
Lavonne: LUH-vahn
Leicestershire: LEH-stuhr-shuur
Maël: MAY-luh
Maerleswein: MAYRL-swiyn
Mary Sarah: MAA-ree-SAA-ruh
Mercia: MUHR-see-uh
Merle: MUHRL-uh
Michel: MEE-shehl
Nicola: NEE-koh-luh
Ordric: OHR-drihk
Pierre: PEE-ehr
Ravven: RAY-vihn
Raymond: RAY-mohnd
Rixende: RIHKS-ahnd
Robine: rah-BEEN
Roche: ROHSH
Roger: ROH-zheh
Sévère: SAY-vehr
Séverine: SAY-vuh-reen
Sigward: SEEG-wuhrd
Stigand: STIY-guhnd
Sweyn: SVIHN
Theriot: TEH-ree-oh
Torquay: tohr-KEE
Wulf: WUULF
Wulfrith: WUUL-frihth
Vitalis: VEE-tah-lihs
Wynflaed: Wihn-flehd
Zedekiah: ZEH-duh-KIY-uh
PRONUNCIATION KEY
VOWELS
aa: arrow, castle
ay: chain, lady
ah: fought, sod
aw: flaw, paw
eh: bet, leg
ee: king, league
ih: hilt, missive
iy: knight, write
oh: coat, noble
oi: boy, coin
oo: fool, rule
ow: cow, brown
uh: sun, up
uu: book, hood
y: yearn, yield
CONSONANTS
b: bailey, club
ch: charge, trencher
d: dagger, hard
f: first, staff
g: gauntlet, stag
h: heart, hilt
j: jest, siege
k: coffer, pike
l: lance, vassal
m: moat, pommel
n: noble, postern
ng: ring, song
p: pike, lip
r: rain, far
s: spur, pass
sh: chivalry, shield
t: tame, moat
th: thistle, death
t~h: that, feather
v: vassal, missive
w: water, wife
wh: where, whisper
z: zip, haze
zh: treasure, vision
AGE OF CONQUEST GLOSSARY
ANDREDESWALD: forest that covered areas of Sussex and Surrey in England
ANGLO-SAXON: people of the Angles (Denmark) and Saxons (northern Germany) of which the population of 11th century England was mostly comprised
BLIAUT: medieval gown
BRAIES: men’s underwear
CASTELLAN: commander of a castle
CHAUSSES: men’s close-fitting leg coverings
CHEMISE: loose-fitting undergarment or nightdress
CHEVALIER: a knight of France
COIF: hood-shaped cap made of cloth or chain mail
DEMESNE: home and adjoining lands held by a lord
DONJON: tower at center of a castle serving as a lord’s living area
DOTTER: meaning “daughter”; attached to a woman’s name to identify her by whose daughter she is
EMBRASURE: opening in a wall often used by archers
FEALTY: tenant or vassal’s sworn loyalty to a lord
FORTNIGHT: two weeks
FREE MAN: person not a slave or serf
GARDEROBE: enclosed toilet
GIRDLE: belt worn upon which purses or weaponry might be attached
HILT: grip or handle of a sword or dagger
HOUSECARLE: elite warrior who was a lord’s personal bodyguard
KNAVE: dishonest or unprincipled man
LEAGUE: equivalent to approximately three miles
LIEGE: superior or lord
MAIL: garments of armor made of linked metal rings
MISCREANT: badly behaving person
MISSIVE: letter
MOAT: defensive ditch, dry or filled with water
MORROW: tomorrow; the next day
MOTTE: mound of earth
NITHING: derogatory term for someone without honor
NOBLE: one of high birth
NORMAN: people whose origins lay in Normandy on the continent
NORMANDY: principality of northern France founded in the early 10th century by the viking Rollo
PARCHMENT: treated animal skin used for writing
PELL: used for combat training, a vertical post set in the ground against which a sword was struck
PIKE: long wooden shaft with a sharp steel or iron head
POLTROON: utter coward
POMMEL: counterbalance weight at the end of a sword hilt or a knob located at the fore of a saddle
PORTCULLIS: metal or wood gate lowered to block a passage
POSTERN GATE: rear door in a wall, often concealed to allow occupants to arrive and depart inconspicuously
QUINTAIN: post used for lance training to which a dummy and sandbag are attached; the latter swings around and hits the unsuccessful tilter
SALLY PORT: small hidden entrance and exit in a fortification
SAXON: Germanic peo
ple, many of whom conquered and settled in England in the 5th and 6th centuries
SENNIGHT: one week
SHIRE: division of land; England was divided into earldoms, next shires, then hundreds
THANE: in Anglo-Saxon England, a member of the nobility or landed aristocracy who owed military and administrative duty to an overlord, above all the king; owned at least five hides of land (a hide being equal to between 60 and 120 acres)
TRENCHER: large piece of stale bread used as a bowl for food
VASSAL: one who holds land from a lord and owes fealty
Also by Tamara Leigh
CLEAN READ HISTORICAL ROMANCE
THE FEUD: A Medieval Romance Series
Baron Of Godsmere: Book One
Baron Of Emberly: Book Two
Baron of Blackwood: Book Three
LADY: A Medieval Romance Series
Lady At Arms: Book One
Lady Of Eve: Book Two
BEYOND TIME: A Medieval Time Travel Romance Series
Dreamspell: Book One
Lady Ever After: Book Two
STAND-ALONE Medieval Romance Novels
Lady Of Fire
Lady Of Conquest
Lady Undaunted
Lady Betrayed
INSPIRATIONAL HISTORICAL ROMANCE
AGE OF FAITH: A Medieval Romance Series
The Unveiling: Book One
The Yielding: Book Two
The Redeeming: Book Three
The Kindling: Book Four
The Longing: Book Five
The Vexing: Book Six
The Awakening: Book Seven
The Raveling: Book Eight
AGE OF CONQUEST: A Medieval Romance Series
Merciless: Book One
Fearless: Book Two
Nameless: Book Three
Heartless: Book Four
Reckless: Book Five (Autumn 2020)
INSPIRATIONAL CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
HEAD OVER HEELS: Stand-Alone Romance Collection