The Wolf and the Dove

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  The eyes instantly dried and the child chortled, happy at his new position in the world and plucked with wondering fingers at the collar of Wulfgar’s chainse. He stretched upward along the broad, hard chest and explored the smiling mouth of the face that loomed above him. Wulfgar reached down beside his chair and lifted a wood and cloth doll to place it in the boy’s hands. After a few moments the babe yawned, tiring of the toy, and dropped it. He moved about until he was comfortable on this unyielding bed then sighed and went to sleep.

  Wulfgar sat for a long time without moving, afraid of disturbing the boy. There was an odd warmth that grew in him as he realized this tiny, helpless being trusted him beyond all reason. The small chest rose and fell with the soft, quick breath of a child’s sleep. Could this one have sprung from his loins and the lust he had eased on a young, beautiful captive?

  This lad lies lovingly and in full trust upon my breast, Wulfgar mused. Still I shun his love. What is his motive that he comes hither though I gave no word to him?

  Wulfgar’s mind was in a turmoil, yet he slowly became aware that he was bound by more than vows. There were other ties that sank tender hooks within the heart of a man and would never set him free without deep scars that marred the soul. The vows of wedlock were a promise just the fulfillment of which chained him more firmly than the words.

  He gazed down at the innocent slumbering face and knew the sire made no difference. This would be his child from this day forth.

  The fierce Norman knight bent low and gently kissed the head that rested on his chest. He felt a presence beside him and raised his gaze to meet Aislinn’s shining eyes. She looked down upon the man holding her child and felt an overwhelming love for them both.

  The new day dawned and Wulfgar set out with his men, riding to the west as planned. It was not long before a flash from a hill warned of an attack to the east of Darkenwald. Wulfgar swore and swinging about, pressed his men to a hard pace as one stayed long enough to give word of his direction. They had passed the castle when one of the bowmen called and pointed to the tower where another watchman signaled. The band had split and was now burning cottages to the north and south. Wulfgar’s rage and frustration mounted. At his order his man flashed back that they would divide and go after them. He had barely made the parting from Gowain and Milbourne and headed northward when word came that the band had reformed and set a torch to a field in the west of his holdings. Wulfgar’s face blackened. He and his men had rested there only a few hours ago. How could the Flemish know his whereabouts that they could elude him so well? He growled a command and a message was sent for Gowain and Milbourne to meet him near Darkenwald.

  Thus the troubled day wore on. He saw nothing of the invaders, everywhere he went they were pillaging elsewhere. Before the sun had set, word had ceased to come of the raiders and Wulfgar could only surmise that they had gone to ground somewhere in the myriad places of forests and swamps where they could not be found. He cursed the day and with his men slumping wearily in their saddles, they returned to Darkenwald.

  Wulfgar strode into the hall in great agitation, flinging the portal wide with a loud crash, frightening Bryce who lay on a pelt before the hearth. The lad’s lips trembled and soon his face was a caricature of youthful distress. Aislinn set aside her distaff and lifted him, cuddling him close to soothe his fears. Her gaze followed Wulfgar as he paced in front of the hearth, slapping his gauntlets against his thigh.

  “ ’Twould be no different if they knew my every move before I made it,” he raged. “If I told them of my thoughts, they could not escape me better.”

  He paused suddenly and stared at his wife.

  “How could they know unless—” He shook his head as if confused by the thought. “Who would tell them?” He strode away then turned back to Aislinn. “Who here left the town?”

  She shrugged. “I did not watch closely, but the people held close to the castle and most of them went about on foot.”

  Wulfgar pressed the question. “Kerwick, mayhap? Or Maida?”

  Aislinn shook her head vehemently. “Nay. Kerwick was with Beaufonte at the castle the entire day and Maida stayed here with Bryce.”

  “ ’Twas but a thought,” Wulfgar sighed, yet Aislinn knew he still worried on the matter.

  He called Sanhurst to bid him fetch Bolsgar and Sweyn. When they came, he climbed with them to the top of the tower where no prying ears could overhear. Wulfgar looked out upon his lands spread wide below him.

  “I own this small estate, yet I find I cannot protect it from a few straggling soldiers. Even the lookouts do not give us the advantage.”

  Bolsgar watched him as he spoke and knew his concern. “They report only bands of men,” he said slowly. “If the Flemish raiders divide singly or in pairs and wear Norman cloaks, they would pass unnoted and when they rejoined ‘twould be too late for us to forestay them.”

  “True,” Wulfgar ceded. “Then let the lookouts report all riders and their direction. ‘Twill take a few new signals, but you can see to it, Bolsgar.”

  “Wulfgar.” Sweyn now spoke his piece. “There is a thing that gnaws at me. You ever tell this place of our intentions and we find no enemies where we go. It bodes of a traitor in our midst. Let us inform no one and ride where we will.”

  “You are right, Sweyn, and it eats at me that I can put no name to the Judas.” Wulfgar beat the railing with his fist. “Or perhaps someone reads our signals as well as we. Though if that were true, it would be as simple to slay or drive the watchers in. We will do as you say on the morrow. Say no word of this to anyone.” He turned to Bolsgar. “Let no watcher pass a signal as to where we ride from here, then we shall see.”

  Bolsgar went to see his task performed, and when all was done to make the morrow safe, they met in the hall and did justice to Haylan’s cookery. The meal was concluded and Wulfgar took Bryce from his mother’s arms and mounted the stairs to the chamber with Aislinn at his side. Bolsgar and Sweyn exchanged glances over this unusual happening and then silently toasted the day.

  Bryce gurgled with glee as Wulfgar gently tusseled with him on a pelt spread in front of the hearth. When the babe grew tired of the games and yawned, Aislinn put him in the cradle. On her return across the chamber, she drew a cup of wine for her husband and handing it to him, sat crosslegged beside him as he sipped it. His eyes warmed to her and setting the goblet aside, he reached out an arm to pull her down against him. He pressed a soft and tender kiss upon her lips, and she sighed as she traced a finger along his cheek.

  “You are tired, my lord.”

  “There is an elixir of youth you add to my cup,” he whispered as his lips caressed her cheek. “It makes me feel as if the day has yet to begin.” He loosed the strings of her kirtle until her bosom lay open to his gaze.

  Her arms slipped around his neck and they came together as lips melted to lips, and in his bed Bryce slept on through the sound and fury of their play.

  Wulfgar and his men rode out the next morning shortly after sunrise and waited in a wooded copse until the first sign of the band had been seen by the watchers and signaled, then they rode hard. The first cottage was barely set afire when they arrived. The haystacks were scattered as if waiting to be torched and the signs were that the raiders had left in haste. They doused the flames, salvaging most of the structure.

  A hill twinkled with reflected sunlight and Wulfgar called his men to horse and they rode again. This time the hut was not kindled, but a small fire to light the brands was still smoking in the yard. Again the thieves scattered into the forest, but in their haste to flee they left a trail. Now the heat of the chase and near success seized the Norman pursuers and the pace quickened. A new signal beckoned and they swung south, this time to see the colors of Flanders as the band of raiders gathered and then had to fly. The quarry scattered again and Wulfgar’s men spread out to search the runs and warrens.

  A new beacon flickered and at Wulfgar’s call his men came together to ride north. They mounted the top of a
hill just as the raiders regrouped and the chase was rejoined. The thieves fled into the edge of the swamp and scattered once more. Wulfgar’s men followed, flushing two Flemish from cover and as they raised their swords the two were slain as many arrows studded their leather tunics. Wulfgar confirmed they were Flemish, but they bore no coat of arms to name their leader.

  The others had eluded the chase, and as Wulfgar waited for his lookouts to come to life with further news, he and his men rested their mounts and took a light repast. The hunt bore ever closer on the invaders, and thus the day was filled until, with the dark, no further sign was visible. A return was made to the hall and Wulfgar felt secure. The pillaging marauders had found no rest or food and would be hard pressed to meet their own needs, at least till dawn. He vowed he would wear the raiders down until they fled his lands or surrendered. And to that other thought, his mind had already formed a plan, yet who it was who worked against him in his own hall or town he could not name though he considered and rejected several possibilities.

  Much later that night he drew Aislinn and Bolsgar out for a stroll in the frosty evening brightly lit by a full moon.

  “There is one who betrays us here and we must find him out,” he told them. “ ’Tis my plan that my men will leave by twos before first light and wait beyond the hill. I will go with Sweyn and Gowain as if to seek signs of the raiders.”

  Aislinn decried his scheme, clinging to his arm. “But, Wulfgar, there is danger in you riding with so few. There are still a score or more of them. ’Tis folly.”

  “Nay, my love, hear me out,” he bade. “I will join my men and ride slowly east beyond Cregan where we left the raiders. They should have camped nearby. You and Bolsgar will watch the hall and town. If someone leaves to betray us, you will see him and can send a rider to me. Once we know them warned we will ride hard to scatter them again before damage is done. Mayhap we may slay a few and with their informer found out, we will surely win the day.”

  Bolsgar agreed and when assured no danger would come to Wulfgar, Aislinn finally nodded her assent. Wulfgar dropped an arm about her shoulders.

  “Good lass, we’ll have the best of them yet.”

  Wulfgar roused from bed long before daylight and watched from the chamber window as the men left by twos and threes, carefully keeping to the shadows and being quiet in their passage. When they had all gone and the first light of dawn drove the stars from the eastern sky, he donned his clothes and with his hauberk over his arm left the room with Aislinn to break the fast. Bolsgar and Sweyn joined them at the table and soon Beaufonte. Gwyneth came down sleepily rubbing her eyes and yawning as if the noise of the men’s stirrings had awakened her. When Wulfgar was assured all was there within hearing he rose.

  “Come, Sweyn. The thieves will not wait upon our table. Let us fetch Gowain and see if we can search out the rebels.”

  Sweyn rose mumbling through a mouthful of rich brewis as Wulfgar threw on his hauberk and coif and set his helm to his head. The Norseman hefted his sword and battle-ax, testing the edge of the latter with a gleam in his fair blue eyes.

  “She seems eager to bite today,” he laughed. “Mayhap we will find a skull or two to split.”

  Gwyneth sneered. “Let us hope you fare better than you have in the days passed. Forsooth, I’ll have to bolt the doors of Darkenwald against those scavenging few to save my maiden’s virtue.”

  Wulfgar peered at her with a mocking grin. “Prithee, sister, do not fret. That danger seems far-fetched and I would guess you have naught to worry you.”

  Gwyneth threw him an ugly scowl that drew a guffaw from Sweyn who rumbled:

  “Nay, Wulfgar, she does not fret. She only counts the moments till they come.”

  With that Sweyn left the hall with Wulfgar following. Gowain joined them and as they took the road to the west, every eye watched.

  Bolsgar stood in the tower of the hall with the signal man and held his gaze to the village spread out beneath them. Beaufonte rode near the castle and Aislinn sat in the bedchamber at the window with the shutters barely ajar where she could see the lower end of the village and the path to the swamp and forest. She could not see Maida’s hut where it crouched by the willows, yet worried that her mother might have found a way to spend her vengeance upon Wulfgar without her daughter’s knowledge. Aislinn toyed with the sewing in her lap, unable to set her mind to it. She fretted that something might go amiss and Wulfgar would fall into a trap set for him. She could not bear the thought of losing him and grew more anxious with each passing moment.

  Suddenly her heart leapt, for she saw a movement in the thick brush by the edge of the marsh. She watched closely and saw it was a woman’s figure that crept along in the shadows. A cold dread began to build in her breast as she thought of Maida again and her eyes strained to catch some familiar mannerism that would bare the identity of the person. A dark mantle shrouded the figure from head to toe, giving her little aid. Her mind would not still. Perhaps it was some other. Haylan perhaps? Had she found a lord of Flanders for her own?

  The figure passed an open spot and she saw that it was not her mother, for it moved with a agility and speed the old woman would be hard pressed to match. Now the figure stopped and turned to glance behind her. Aislinn smothered a gasp. Even from this distance and in the shadow she knew the slim, bony face as Gwyneth’s.

  Aislinn watched as the woman made her way deeper into the willows and straining she could see the shape of a man dressed as a peasant who met her in the shadows there. Words were exchanged between them before the man disappeared again into the denseness of the forest. Gwyneth waited in the shade for some time before picking her way back to the hall.

  Glancing back over her shoulder to see that Bryce still slept, Aislinn hurried to call Bolsgar from the tower. As she waited for him to join her she paced before the hearth, wondering how she might tell him gently of his daughter.

  “What be it, girl?” he asked when he faced her. “ ’Tis important that I watch for the traitor and I do not fully trust the watchman.”

  Aislinn took a deep breath. “I know the traitor, good Bolsgar. I saw—” Then she blurted it out. “ ’Twas Gwyneth. I saw her meet a man by the swamp.”

  He stopped and stared at her, the agony showing in his eyes. He searched her face for some hint of a lie and glimpsed only her own pain and sympathy for him.

  “Gwyneth,” he breathed low. “Of course. She would be the one.”

  “She will be here soon,” Aislinn warned him.

  The father nodded, his mind grown distant. He went to stand before the fire with his broad shoulders sagging and stared into its depths.

  Gwyneth swung open the door and strode in, humming to herself as if light of mood. She was almost striking with a rosy bloom upon her cheeks and her flaxen hair tumbling over her small bosom. Bolsgar swung to glower at his daughter from beneath beetled brows.

  “What ails you, father?” Gwyneth chirped gayly. “Does your breakfast sit ill on your gut?”

  “Nay, daughter,” he growled. “Another matter eats at my heart. One of a traitor who betrays her own kin.”

  Gwyneth’s eyes widened and she swung to Aislinn. “What lies have you set in his head now, bitch?” she snarled.

  “No lies!” Bolsgar roared, then he continued in a calmer voice. “I know you best of all and never in your life have you given care to ought but your own ends. “Yea! Traitor I believe. But why?” He turned his back upon her, for his eyes found little ease in beholding her. “Why do you aid a cause that will only bleed the life from our land? What friends you choose! First that Moorish boor Ragnor and now the Flemish!”

  At the mention of Ragnor’s name Aislinn saw the other woman’s chin rise and a proud look come over her. At once everything seemed to settle in place and all of Aislinn’s questions were answered and she knew the cause of Gwyneth’s actions. She came out of her chair with a cry.

  “ ’Tis Ragnor! He leads the raiders! Who else would know the land so well and where each
cottage lay? ’Tis Ragnor she betrays us to.”

  Bolsgar swung around and with a dark scowl on his face bore down on Gwyneth. “By God, I swear,” he ground out, “you have made this day the blackest of my life.”

  “Blacker still than the day you found your precious son a bastard?” she sneered in his face and righteous pride rang in her voice. “You, he and that Saxon slut tore from me my last trace of pride. What was I here but a nothing in a hall where I should have been the lady? I was forbidden the right to answer the lies and slurs that were set to me by others. My own father chortled like a foolish babe when I was stripped of every—”

  Bolsgar’s hand caught her full across the mouth and the force of the blow spun Gwyneth about until she staggered back against the table.

  “Do not name me again your father,” he snarled. “I give lie to the fact and deny your kinship.”

  Gwyneth braced her arms behind her on the table and glared at him with hatred burning in her eyes. “You love Wulfgar so much even though the world calls him bastard?” She rubbed the bruised cheek. “Then draw this day as long as you can, for the night will see him dead.”

  Aislinn gasped at her words. “They set a trap for him. Oh, Bolsgar, they will draw him out and kill him!”

  She crossed to Gwyneth, her eyes narrowing and her hand resting on the small dagger in her belt.

  “Where, bitch?” she demanded, all trace of the gentle Aislinn flown. “Where or I will carve your neck until the breezes draw a tune from it.”

  Gwyneth’s eyes flickered with uncertainty as she faced the other, remembering well Aislinn’s rage at things past. “ ’Tis too late to aid my bastard kin, so I will name the place. He may even now lay in the forest just outside of Cregan.”

  She lowered her gaze from the two who glared at her and slid into a chair, folding her hands in her lap. Aislinn questioned her further while Bolsgar stared in disbelief at his daughter. When Gwyneth would yield no more Aislinn turned to him.