by Regan Walker
Dropping from his stallion, he helped her remount and fixed her bow and arrows behind her. He was displeased, but why?
Alex lifted himself into his saddle. “Now I must decide if ’tis better for her to remain as my page and hope the king’s interest wanes with his other diversions or have her dress as a lady and ward off the lust of the king’s men. Either way, ’twill be an onerous evening.”
Merewyn disliked being discussed as if she were not there. “I fail to understand how that is your decision, Alex. Besides, while I first thought to go as your page, if I am to join your lady mother and Earl Renaud in the king’s hall, I will be expected to wear a gown.”
“She has the right of it,” said Rory, nodding his head. “My mother would expect the same of my sisters.”
“So be it,” said Alex with a look of resignation. “I will wear my sword should it be required. You may have brought us much trouble, my lady.”
She could hardly see how women were responsible for the lust of the king’s men. After all, there was nothing remarkable in her or her attire. All ladies wore similar gowns.
“ ’Twill at least be an interesting evening,” said Rory.
“Best we not consume much wine,” cautioned Alex. “Come, let us find my father and yours, Guy, and see if the hunt continues. If not, we should make our way back to London.”
On their return, Alex rode beside her, his eyes straight ahead, his face expressionless. She knew he worried over the king’s notice of her. “How did you choose the name you gave the king?”
“I just took the first name that came to me.”
“ ’Tis odd you picked that one. It is the name I was called in Wales.”
CHAPTER 7
Icy fingers of dread crept over Alex as he slowly descended the stairs of their London manor that evening and beheld Merewyn, standing beside his mother. The two of them were richly gowned for the evening.
The violet silk Merewyn had worn on his first night home again made her appear the ethereal creature. Gone was the page that had felled a red hart with his bow. Before him stood a beautiful young woman, her flaxen hair plaited on the sides and pulled back from her face. The rest of it spilled down her back, a waterfall of liquid gold. He had the urge to run his fingers through the long strands, but then he reminded himself he was still angry with her for insisting on joining the hunt.
Her skillful shot had brought about an awkward state of affairs. Dressed as a lady, she might be safe from the king, but she would not be safe from his brother, Robert—known to have sired several bastards—or every other rogue in the hall. At one time, Alex would have been one of those knights who sought her favors if she was a woman who freely gave them. Now he must protect her against his fellow knights, or worse, some nobleman of his father’s rank.
Maugris had warned him of temptation that called for honor and courage needed in the face of fear. Tonight he would certainly need courage and his wits as he battled other men tempted by Merewyn’s beauty. Was that what Maugris had seen?
His father stepped away from the others to join Alex at the foot of the stairs. “You seem to have taken an interest in my ward.”
Still watching Merewyn, Alex said, “I worry for her in that den of debauchery we enter tonight.”
“You have never worried for a lady’s virtue before. Why Merewyn’s?”
“I feel very protective of her.”
His father’s gray eyes narrowed on him. “The last time I looked at a woman the way you are looking at Merewyn, it was your mother.”
Alex’s brows drew together as he pondered his father’s words. He compared the two women standing on the other side of the room, one a younger version of the other. “Do you think they are much alike?”
His father shifted his gaze to his wife and his ward. “Aye, I suppose they are. Both are unusual for their sex. Your mother used to hunt for Maggie, though not from the back of a horse. It was through her archery skills I found her hiding among the servants.”
Alex recalled the story. “She smiles about it now.”
“Yea, but I can assure you she did not smile then. She hated all Normans, especially the king who had given Talisand to me along with her.”
“Would you have taken her if she were not the daughter of an English thegn?”
The look in his father’s eyes told Alex his mind was lost in memory. “I nearly did.”
He was glad to hear that his father had wanted his mother before he knew her to be the daughter of Talisand’s old English thegn. His parents’ beginning had been rough but love had come despite their differences.
Alex wanted Merewyn no matter the circumstances of her birth and if he decided to make Merewyn his, no man would take her from him, not even the king.
With a troubled look, his father cautioned, “Keep it at friendship with Merewyn, Alex. The king, no doubt, has plans for you.”
“Sir Geoffroi warned me of such, but I would guard her even if she were only a friend.”
“Then keep her close in the king’s hall tonight. Geoff and I will intercede if necessary.”
“Your offer is appreciated, Father, but I think I can handle this.”
A smile crossed the face of the Red Wolf as he placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Aye, mayhap you can. I expect one day—and that day may not be far off—when the accomplishments of the Black Wolf will surpass those of the Red.”
Alex gave his father an incredulous look, but inwardly he smiled at the approval he glimpsed in his father’s eyes.
Soon after, they departed the manor. The distance to Westminster Palace was not far and they kept to a leisurely pace, avoiding the pools of standing water. Finally, ahead of them in the distance loomed the palace.
Passing Westminster Abbey on their right, beside him, Merewyn inhaled sharply. “That is the church?”
“Aye, the abbey is just there and, in front of you, the palace.”
“ ’Twas King Edward who rebuilt Saint Peter’s Abbey,” said Lady Serena riding ahead of them beside Alex’s father.
“The Conqueror added to the palace,” put in Alex’s father. “He found it inferior to the ones in France.”
“No doubt,” his mother muttered.
“The king tells me he has plans to make Westminster a grand hall,” Alex put in, wondering if William’s plans were not spurred on by the desire to outshine his father. What must it be like for William Rufus to live in the shadow of the Conqueror?
“I expect he will,” came his father’s response.
“I have never seen the like,” said Merewyn, staring at the abbey as they passed. Then looking ahead to the palace, she added, “I cannot imagine the palace being even larger.”
By the time they arrived, many of the William’s subjects were waiting to greet him.
Grooms in the king’s livery took their horses.
A few earls and many barons and knights congregated around the door of the palace. Alex recognized those who had hunted with them that morning as well as others from his time in Normandy. Earl Hugh waved to them from where he spoke to the king’s chancellor, Robert Bloet.
Alex’s father was well known and much respected. Thus, Earl Renaud and his beautiful English wife garnered considerable attention as they walked up the stairs.
Alex took Merewyn’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Stay close,” he whispered. She looked at him with trusting eyes but also a hint of fear. “I will not leave you,” he vowed. She had to be feeling awkward and mayhap fearful to be in the presence of the Norman king and so many of his knights.
Finally, the group from Talisand neared the king, who was standing inside the door greeting his guests. As was usual, the king was attired in great finery, a crimson tunic, with jewels set into the fabric. On his fingers were many rings of gold.
Next to the king was his older brother, Duke Robert, dressed in similar garb, though mayhap a bit less extravagant. His hair, too, was shorter than William’s.
On the other side of the
king’s brother stood Ranulf, dubbed “Flambard”, or “torch-bearer”, for his overwhelming personality.
Alex knew Ranulf to be clever, talkative and always full of ideas. He was the king’s closest advisor and priest, but his chief occupation appeared to be raising money for the king’s wars. In that effort, Ranulf was not above robbing the church. Alex deemed it likely it had been Ranulf’s counsel that had left the powerful position of Archbishop of Canterbury vacant for so long, enabling the king to claim the rents as his own. But more concerning to Alex at the moment was Ranulf’s reputation as a conspicuous pursuer of women. He collected them like trophies.
In truth, the handsome Ranulf might be the greatest threat to Merewyn which, to Alex, seemed an odd turn of events. At one time, he and Ranulf had competed for the affections of the women at court. Always more aggressive than Alex in seeking out willing females, Alex had tolerated the man for he had the king’s respect. But no longer. Now Alex recognized the king’s advisor for what he was, a predatory despoiler of women. Ranulf, he was certain, would not fail to notice Merewyn’s loveliness. That she was not a nobleman’s daughter only made her fair game.
Arriving in front of the king, William smiled at Alex and his father. “Ah, my wolves grace my hall! And with lovely ladies.” He first greeted Alex’s parents and then turned to Alex. “But where is the young page whose arrow felled the hart?”
Alex cleared his throat. “My Lord, may I introduce to you Merewyn of York, my father’s ward. I believe you know her as ‘Merry’.”
The king’s unusual eyes captured the light as they narrowed upon Merewyn, his expression one of disbelief. “By the face of Lucca, what have we here?”
Still holding on to Alex’s arm, Merewyn made a brief curtsey before the king. “My Lord.”
“Do my eyes deceive me?” asked William. “This jewel is the page you called Merry?”
“By the marvels of God,” exclaimed Duke Robert, “ ’tis the page skilled with a bow turned into a beautiful young woman… Ravissante, tout à fait ravissante!”
The short dark-haired duke, barely taller than Merewyn, grinned broadly at her, grimly reminding Alex that whereas the king might prefer to take his pleasure with young men, Robert loved women. That he found her enchanting was hardly surprising.
Alex was about to move past the king when William Rufus held up his hand. “Sir Alex, there is someone I would have you meet.”
Alex turned.
“ ’Tis the young Adèle, here with her father, Herbert, comte de Vermandois. Her father’s lands in Normandy are among those I now control.”
Alex shot a glance at Sir Geoffroi who had turned back at the king’s words. The knight’s earlier speculation echoed in Alex’s mind. Now that he has gained new lands in Normandy from his brother, Robert, I expect William will want to bind his young nobles to those lands. The last thing Alex needed was an arranged marriage but he would not openly defy his sovereign. He inclined his head. “Of course, My Lord.”
They passed the king and his brother, arriving in front of Ranulf Flambard. The king’s advisor took Merewyn’s free hand and placed a kiss upon her slender fingers, his dark eyes searing into hers. “I shall look forward to a dance with you this night, my lady. I would see more of your beautiful face.”
Alex scowled and tightened his grip on Merewyn. “The lady’s dances have all been claimed, I am afraid.”
Ranulf laughed. “We shall see, sir knight. We shall see.”
“He makes me uneasy,” said Merewyn casting a glance back at Ranulf as they entered the hall. The large space was filled with people engaged in conversation. Already, many seats were taken at the long trestle tables. “Who is he?”
“The king’s chaplain, advisor and keeper of the treasury. And a scoundrel. Do not concern yourself with him. I will make sure the men of Talisand guard you well.”
Before they took their seats, Alex left Merewyn with Rory and Guy and drew Sir Geoffroi aside. “Did you hear the king? It appears you were correct in your assumption. William wants me to meet some woman from Normandy.”
“Aye and not just any woman. The daughter of Earl Herbert of Vermandois is rumored to be beautiful, but also treacherous. She has been thought to use poison, though I suppose ’tis normal for the women of Normandy.” At Alex’s raised brow, Guy’s father explained, “ ’Tis how they rid themselves of unwanted husbands.”
“You have my thanks for the warning, but I hope never to put myself in such a position.”
Alex returned to collect Merewyn. It was not enough he had to fend off the men who would be after the woman he vowed to protect. Now he must deal with a young noblewoman from Normandy known for her treachery.
Was his father aware of the king’s plans? Even if he were, Talisand was a long way from Wessex and per chance the king might be persuaded to accept another in his place. The Earl of Chester had many sons, but at least two were sons of his wife. After what happened at Avranches, Earl Hugh owed the king a debt for his mercy in taking the earl back into the fold. One of those sons might be proposed as a candidate for the hand of Lady Adèle. Alex could only hope.
Soon they were seated between Sir Geoffroi and Rory, Guy on Rory’s other side. Alex looked up to see his parents sitting with the king on the dais. The invitation to dine with the king was a high honor; one Alex was certain his mother would have declined were she able.
He took off his sword belt and laid it under his bench, then leaned in to Rory. “Do not leave Merewyn alone should I be drawn away. You and Guy must claim her dances if I cannot.”
“With pleasure,” Rory replied with a grin.
“Your eagerness is wholly unnecessary,” Alex commented dryly. He would not be pleased should his fellow knight take a fancy to Merewyn.
* * *
Overwhelmed by the dazzling opulence around her, Merewyn stared at the beautiful tapestries gracing the walls. Most featured battles. She imagined the sounds that might have accompanied them. The bodies of slain warriors lay on the ground before the victorious. They were the kind of tapestries a bachelor king would display in his hall.
In one corner, minstrels played flutes and a lyre, sending beautiful sounds into the air and providing a soothing background for the boisterous conversations at the tables. All were speaking in Norman French, the language of the court. She understood what they said, having been taught French in her youth. Even though she had not spoken the language much at Talisand or in Wales, she had not forgotten it.
The large chamber was alight with hundreds of candles set into iron rings that hung from the wooden rafters high above. Torches blazed from sconces set into the walls adding to the bright flames of the central hearth fire making the room almost too warm. On the tables, the candlelight was reflected in the silver and golden goblets set before them.
Wonderful smells wafted from trays piled high with meats of all kinds, including roast pig, venison and peafowl. Dishes of vegetables cooked in sauces were set before them, along with bread still warm from the oven. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had not eaten since breaking her fast.
Silks and velvet gowns and tunics in bright sapphire, ruby, emerald and yellow were all around her. On the dais, she glimpsed the king in his bejeweled scarlet tunic laughing as he ate with his brother, Robert, and the one called Ranulf. On either side of them sat Earl Hugh and Alex’s parents. At the tables, the barons, earls and their ladies adorned in fine raiment and many jewels ate with relish. She was glad for the gown Lady Serena had given her. At least she was dressed like a lady.
The smells of herbs and spices made her mouth water and she speared a slice of venison from the trencher she shared with Alex. “Do you think we dine on my deer?” she asked him before taking a bite.
“The other hunters took deer also, but ’tis likely one of these is your kill.” He bit into a piece of the succulent meat, wiping the juices from his chin with his napkin. “Very good it is, too. I like the wine sauce with cinnamon.”
Reaching for her
goblet, she sipped her wine and let her gaze wander about the hall, coming to rest on an unusual group. “Alex, who are those three sitting at the other table on the end closest to the dais?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I suppose I can no longer delay telling you. Those are the king’s courtiers, Gervais, Jocelin and Piers. Guy calls them ‘the three graces’.”
“The ones in the Roman stories who served Venus?”
“Aye, tis a jest.”
“But are they women or men?” Merewyn could not honestly decide. They had the shoulders of young men, but their hair was longer than even the king and his young knights. Their cheeks were rouged and they appeared to be gowned like women.
“Men, the king’s own. Were you close enough, you could smell their perfume. ’Tis a heady scent.”
“The king is a… a sodomite?” she whispered, disbelieving.
“Aye. ’Tis why he has not wed and will never sire a child. By the treaty he signed with his brother, Robert is now his heir.”
“I begin to see. ’Twas why you did not want the king to see me dressed as a page.” Garbed as an archer with her womanly features, the king could well have thought her one of his courtiers as Alex called them. Her estimation of Alex rose with the realization he had been looking out for her welfare. “You were protecting me.”
“I was and I still am.”
The intensity of his gaze made her lower her eyes. “I am grateful.”
When she raised her eyes it was to watch the king’s courtiers. Their feminine appearance, their laughter and their extravagant gestures were more like women than men. Even their earrings spoke of a woman’s attire, not a man’s. “Why would the king want a man pretending to be a woman when he could have any woman he wants?”
Alex leaned in and lowered his voice. “I cannot say for certain, but young squires are, for the most part, sequestered at a time when their bodies are changing from that of boys to men. When the urge strikes, some find their pleasure in each other. A few of those never grow out of the practice.”