“I"m not so certain, Count Odo, that my wife will be so pleased with these arrangements,” she heard, and when she spun around, Conar was there.
He had seldom seemed so magnificent. The shoulders of his crimson mantle were adorned with a thick edge of wolf"s fur, as were the high pelt edges of his boots, rising to his knees. Beneath it his form-hugging chausses were fawn, his tunic a royal blue that brought out the searing color of his eyes. Over the tunic he wore his glittering mail. His conical helmet rested in his hand against his chest.
“Not pleased?” Odo said, distressed. “Why, any maid would be delighted with such spectacular pageantry.”
“Countess Melisande? Why, milord, "tis quite possible that we will walk the aisle and my fair wife will decry me.”
There was a startling silence, then Odo burst into laughter. “Melisande has always known how battles must be won and fought, how life must be lived, property preserved. You young people jest at my expense. Now come, this will be a long and tiresome journey with so many in attendance.” Melisande stared at Conar and felt an odd shivering within her. Count Odo"s hands were upon her shoulders, turning her. He led her from the hall, his arm lightly about her.
But Conar was right behind them. Helping her atop Warrior in the courtyard, Conar gazed at her intently. But then he turned from her, mounted Thor, and rode to the head of their large armed party.
The gates were opened. They rode out, several hundred armed men with them—fortress men, Conar"s men, Odo"s men—Marie de Tresse and countless other maids and servants, and a large number of churchmen.
Odo rode at Melisande"s side for quite some time. Later he rode forward with her to introduce her to his cousin, Lady Genevieve, come to serve as a feminine companion, and she talked politely with the woman, but found herself irritated to discover that Lady Genevieve was a deep believer in a woman"s subservience first to God"s will, and then to her husband"s. Melisande managed to rein in a bit and allow the woman to ride on. Ragwald was with them, too, and she was suddenly determined to ride with him, or Gaston. Only Philippe had been left behind with the fortress guard.
She made her way carefully around Genevieve and rode hard through the long train of travelers to find Ragwald, then suddenly reined in.
He was very near the front of their procession, riding with Odo.
Behind him was Conar. And Brenna.
Their horses rode so close, they brushed one another. Conar"s head was bent, listening to her words. He laughed softly and flashed her a warm smile.
Melisande felt dizzy. She reined back.
Odo wanted her to do this.
But then Odo assumed that she was pleased with her marriage. No, perhaps Odo would not care if she was or wasn"t. Conar had been her father"s choice, Conar had avenged her father. Odo might just assume that this was her duty, and that she would be too well bred to do anything other than strengthen her home and country.
“Lady Melisande!”
She reined in to see that Bishop LeClerc, the greatly admired churchman selected to perform the ceremony in the beautiful church at Rouen, was calling to her.
Alas! All she needed was a churchman at this time, when her heart lay in such tempest! She was not terribly sure that she was as Christian as she should be, if she really believed in God anymore. God had deserted her the day her father had died. He had not seemed present often since.
But she smiled, reined in, and awaited the man.
He had a full head of snowy white hair and a kindly wrinkled face, and reminded her somewhat of Ragwald. There was a deep wisdom within his eyes, yet there seemed humor there, too, intriguing in a man of such a pious reputation.
“Lady, do you feel up to all this?”
“My health is excellent,” she assured him.
“We must thank God for that!” he told her, but his merry green eyes seemed to be sparkling with amusement. “But I asked, my dear, if you were up to this.” She lowered her head, lashes covering her eyes.
“Do you love your husband?”
She looked to him quickly, startled. His gentle smile deepened. “If you do, child, you are most fortunate. If he loves you, it is a greater blessing still.”
“I believe this was all Count Odo"s planning,” she murmured.
“Aye, for Odo is a man deeply concerned with the welfare of our land and people. As was your father. Still …” He shrugged. “This is a solemn occasion, and the ceremony will be one under our Lord God in his heaven. Perhaps you should think on your vows again, milady. Stay with my household, lady, chaste in prayer these evenings while we travel onward.”
She stared at him and realized what he was offering her. An escape for the several nights it would take their huge party to reach Rouen.
Conar would be powerless against the church he had been so willing to involve himself with.
She nearly smiled but managed to bow her head instead and answer gravely.
“Perhaps deep meditation on God"s will would serve me well these few days,” she murmured.
“As you wish it, Melisande. You may think upon it, and then let me know.” They stopped at a monastery that evening, it being the only place along the way large enough to accommodate their party, with wide open fields for the fighting men and their horses, separate quarters for the nobles and their ladies.
Melisande had scarce seen Conar throughout the day—he had spent it riding with Brenna and Ragwald.
Mainly Brenna.
Even as the monks scrambled about to serve their party, he was with Brenna, approaching Melisande only when she had set her plate down. He reached for her hand. “Come. We"ve been offered the nicest room in this sparse establishment.”
She bit into her lip, ignoring his hand, then looked into his eyes.
“I cannot join you tonight,” she told him.
“What?”
“Bishop LeClerc has suggested that I seek God again in prayer, that what we do is a grave matter.”
“You"ve been my wife for years—” Conar began angrily, but then he broke off. He drew her suddenly to her feet, drawing her close, and his rough words were for her ears alone. “This is your choice, Melisande?”
“Mine. And you must abide by it—”
“Nay, lady! There is nothing I must abide by! You know that. Were it my choice, I would drag you away here and now, and none would dare stop me.” His hold upon her eased. His whisper remained harsh. “But perhaps we both need an evening to reflect upon our situation. You will have the peace you desire. And perhaps my dreams will be filled with a gentle female who does not choose to fight and deny me night after night!”
He suddenly released her, and to her surprise her knees were so weak that she sank back to the rough plank where she had been sitting.
She retired soon to the minuscule, barren monk"s chamber she had been so courteously offered.
She even tried to pray.
But the words would not come. She lay awake, tears stinging her eyes, and she wondered where Conar slept.
Melisande would be quick to deny that she was either stubborn or proud, yet her pride and her determination not to give to Conar more than he had already taken were all that kept her away.
It took them three more nights to reach Rouen. She ached through each of them, tormented herself, suffering cruelly. In her waking hours she tried very hard to be solemn with Bishop LeClerc and assure him that she thought carefully each night on God"s will.
She rode often with Marie and tried to spend time with Lady Genevieve, yet often found some polite means of escape.
She watched Conar, still riding often with Brenna, who knew him much better than she did, shared much more with him.
They came to Rouen at last, and there would be one night there before the solemn ceremony in the morning. Odo kept a huge house here with an abundance of servants, which was well, for the house was a crowded place and the meals required for all the guests were extensive.
That night she found herself swept along with Odo and Swen be
fore the fire where Brenna was casting runes from a skin satchel.
Her runes were fine, highly polished stone, the symbols beautifully carved into them. Melisande sipped wine beside her host, watching with a fascination that startled her—she was usually so careful to keep her distance from Brenna.
First the stones fell for a young woman. Brenna assured her that she would wed and have a house full of children. Genevieve, flushing, murmuring that she didn"t believe in such pagan fortune-telling, found herself the next one for whom the stones were cast. Brenna looked into her eyes.
“Have I a husband there, seeress?”
Brenna ignored the words and paused just a moment. “I see the life that you desire. You, in your goodness and piety, lady, will become one of Christ"s brides.”
“I will enter religious orders?”
“Aye,” Brenna said softly, and Genevieve was oddly appeased.
“I should have mine cast now!” Odo said, bowing low to Brenna. “If you will, my good woman.”
A fire crackled high behind Brenna. She sat on a bearskin rug, her blond hair a cape around her shoulders, her eyes a fascinating shade between blue and green as she studied people, and then stone.
“Aye, Count Odo!” she murmured, and cast the stones out upon the ground.
Everyone was silent. The fire hissed and crackled.
“Well?” Odo demanded.
“You, milord, will march into the history of your nation. You will often be all that stands between life and death for what will one day be one of the greatest cities in the world. The warning, milord—hold strong, cling to those allies whose wisdom and strength will complement your own, who will hold fast to their loyalties at all times.”
“Fair enough!” Odo said, pleased. His hands set upon Melisande"s shoulders.
“And now for milady …”
“No!” Melisande said quickly.
“I will not cast them, if you should choose that I do not,” Brenna assured her.
“Come, come!” Odo said. “ "Tis all in the best of fun. The churchmen all sit there like muted birds. They will have their day tomorrow. Come, cast Melisande"s runes.”
Brenna collected her stones into her satchel and met Melisande"s eyes.
“Milady?”
Melisande shrugged. “Cast them.”
The stones fell upon the ground. Once again the fire snapped and crackled, and then it seemed to roar with a sudden rush of heat. Brenna looked up at Melisande. She pointed to a stone with a symbol like an X upon it. “It is called Gebo, and it indicates partnership, a gift. A fitting rune for this evening, milady.
There is no reverse for this rune, for the symbol indicates freedom, and all gifts flow from freedom. In a union of a man and woman, there is great giving.” She hesitated, but then pointed to another stone. “There might be danger in your way. This is Hagalaz; it indicates great disruptive forces, elemental power, upheaval, perhaps something of the gods, perhaps something of man. You must take care …” she murmured.
“Danger seems to surround my wife.”
Melisande jumped, turning to see that Conar had joined them and stood just behind her. Brenna looked up, startled to see him, too. She had just begun to set her finger upon another stone, but abruptly decided to gather them all up into the satchel again. She stared at Melisande and said only, “We all form our own destinies, in truth. The runes just warn us of stones that may lie in our paths. If you will excuse me, I will retire now, as I am weary.” She slid past them. Melisande noticed that Conar stopped Brenna, pulling her back. She was certain that he was quizzing her about Melisande"s runes.
But Brenna shook her head, and Conar released her. His gaze was upon Melisande.
“It is late indeed. I will see you up to your chaste, private quarters, milady,” he told her.
“I—”
“It is late,” he repeated, his fingers lacing around her arm.
He thanked Odo for his great hospitality, then escorted Melisande to the hallway. Odo"s house was vast, with several stories, but with many of the guest rooms right on a level with the hall. It was a wooden house, comfortable and warm.
Yet without the strength of stone.
Conar led her to the finely appointed room Odo had granted them for their stay, Melisande"s alone this evening—theirs to share again tomorrow night.
Except that he dragged her within it, tonight, closing the door hard behind him, leaning against it, watching her. “So what is it going to be, Melisande?
Have you so truly enjoyed your distance from me?”
“Perhaps,” she said. Her lashes were falling too swiftly over her eyes. She forced them to rise again, forced herself to meet his steel gaze.
“Aren"t you going to try to bargain again?” he asked her.
She smiled. “I rather thought it would be more enjoyable to stand by the altar and denounce you for a Viking.”
He smiled and came toward her, finding her wrists, dragging her against him.
“You"d never dare!” he challenged her.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Geoffrey will be among the guests tomorrow. He could seize upon you immediately.”
“Perhaps that makes no difference.”
“Nay, lady, I may be all manner of creatures, but I did not slay your father!”
“There are other men in the world!” she reminded him.
“But not many with my resources. Not many who have already laid claim to the fortress—and to you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “If this is to be my last night of privacy—” He laughed softly, interrupting her. “So it is your last night!” She bit into her lower lip, struggling against his hold. “Not if you wish me to speak—”
He shook his head firmly. “Nay, Melisande, not that bargain! I will leave you tonight, for perhaps I have a few vigils of my own to stand! But I"ve told you time and time again, I will never let you go. And I will have you when I choose.”
“If you would just unwind your fingers from my wrist—”
“But you"re wasting such an excellent opportunity! Isn"t there something else you might crave, something you might desire in exchange for your ardent vow?”
She went still, staring warily into his eyes. “You would grant me something?”
“Indeed.”
She was startled, then her lashes fell again. A sweeping heat seared through her body, and her mouth was dry.
“What? You"ve come up with something, I feel it.”
She couldn"t quite bring her eyes to his. She tugged upon her wrists and he released her this time. She walked to the foot of her bed. paused, turned back to him.
“I want—”
“Yes!”
“I want you to cease sleeping with Brenna.”
“What?” he demanded, a curious tone to his voice. It felt as if her heart were sinking within her. He would rather give her up, and all her property, she thought.
But she met his eyes and spoke again. “I want your vow that you will not spend your nights with Brenna.”
“Sleep with her?”
“You"ve never spent the night with her?”
“Oh, yes, many nights.”
“Your word!”
“So you are jealous.”
“I am uncomfortable with my husband"s mistress beneath my roof and ever so near.”
“You"re jealous.”
“You started this. Do I have your promise or not?”
He smiled, a slow, lazy smile, and crossed his arms over his chest. He walked to her, cupped her chin in his hands, then pinned her to him when she would have escaped. His lips were very tender when they touched hers. “You have my vow. Except that you will grant me one concession in return.”
“I walk into the church tomorrow and claim you as my rightful lord and husband,” she said bitterly. “That is what you get!”
“Not enough.”
“What do you want?”
“What I have always wanted. You.”
Again her
eyes fell. “You"ve assured me that you will have me when you want me—”
“Aye, and that I will. But for one night, if one night only, I want no fight, no restraint, no argument. My gift from you for our new vows. Wait, I want much more than that. I want you to come to me. Touch me. Awaken and arouse me.”
“You are jesting!”
“I am demanding! And I demand, too, that you be exceptional.” Once again she tried to wrench away from him. He dragged her back.
“Bathed and perfumed,” he said softly. “Willing and waiting … and eager!
Ready to tease and arouse and seduce.”
Her cheeks flamed with color.
“Your vow, Melisande.”
“But I don"t keep promises—”
“Except to me,” he reminded her again, his lip curving into a smile. He bowed to her then, quite suddenly, and before she could speak again, he was gone.
She quickly slid the bolt on her door. She hurried to the foot of her bed and sat upon it, shivering.
Jesu, what promise had he wrung from her?
Yet as she lay awake, she wanted the hours to pass, the day to come.
The night to fall again.
The church was spectacular in the morning, adorned with candles and flowers.
People had flocked from all around the countryside to attend the ceremony.
Indeed, even Geoffrey was there. Melisande saw him from the corner of her eye when Odo led her through the spectators to meet with Conar before the altar.
Her heart seemed to shiver as she stepped forward. He seemed like a god himself, his chausses dark, boots black, shirt and tunic pure white and trimmed with white fox, his mantle a sky blue, and rimmed with the same white fox.
She felt weak as she was handed to him, as they knelt together, as Bishop LeClerc announced slowly and carefully that they had come here today, man and wife already, to renew their love for God, and for one another, before the fine assembly gathered there, and before their heavenly maker. The union between man and wife was a sacred thing, and not to be entered into lightly.
And not to be broken by any man on earth.
He entered then into the mass, and it seemed to Melisande that it was a long one, endless, droning on and on.
MacAuliffe Vikings Trilogy 3 - Lord of the wolves Page 26