by McCall, Mary
Bernon growled.
Padarn squinted up at Bernon and nodded. “Only one thing worse than a vulture, milord.”
Bernon decided to remain patient. Padarn was one of those men who talked around a subject until he was satisfied he had led a man where he wanted him. Someone like Padarn couldn’t be rushed, and he obviously knew something. “What would that be?”
“A conniving snake.” Padarn nodded to himself. “Aye, just when you think the viper is dead and you go and get your shovel so you can bury him, you come back and he has done slithered away.”
Bernon rolled his eyes. God’s teeth, the man was provoking. “I am afraid you have stumped me, Padarn.”
“Your predecessor, milord, now he was a snake.”
Bernon’s brows snapped together. “Are you sure?”
“I can only tell you what I know. While picking up the carcasses littering this hall and the grounds, couldn’t find his slimy hide anywhere. I double-checked ‘em all, and that’s a fact. Wanted to know where his grave was, so I could come back and dance on it later.”
“Does anyone else know this?” Bernon gritted out.
“Not from me. Thought ‘twas something my new lord should know first.”
“Tell no one—especially my lady. I do not want her worrying while we figure out what the snake is up to.”
Padarn nodded. “’Tis glad I am to see you thinking of my lady’s tender feelings. If you do not mind, I would like to get home and check on my Lori. She doesn’t care for vultures or snakes. You can always send for me if you need me.”
Bernon nodded a dismissal and Padarn turned to the disgruntled soldier beside him. “Hugo, I will be expecting you early in the morning like we said, so you can help me out with that other matter.”
“Aye, I will be there,” Hugo agreed.
Padarn strolled towards the door and Bernon waited. He knew the man wasn’t finished talking so was not surprised when Padarn called over his shoulder, “Celeste is a good name, milord. Makes me think of heaven and that always makes me think of angels.”
Bernon rolled his eyes at the parting comment and turned to find two glowers fixed on him. “What is wrong, Geno?”
“The little wolf had to defend herself from that Gremian. Are you not concerned for her safety?” Geno asked in a censorious tone.
Bernon placed his fists on his hips and scowled. “Medwyn follows her now and Gremian would not be fool enough to try anything with me here.”
“I still do not trust him,” Hugo grumbled.
“The cell where we found him was empty when we passed it this morn,” Geno said. “I think I will set a couple of men to following him.”
Even though Geno tried to goad him with the insult, Bernon agreed with the need for caution. “Just do not alert Gremian. He may be able to lead us to my predecessor or Orlege and the other resisters. I want him to feel safe, so he will drop his guard and become careless.”
“Excuse me, milord,” Ardith said from behind him.
Bernon turned and saw the housekeeper holding a folded black cloth in her arms with a young lad of about ten summers at her side. “I am glad you are here, Ardith. I would like you to see to moving my lady’s belongings into the lord’s chamber.”
“’Twill be seen to, milord,” she replied with an approving smile.
“What did you wish to say?”
“This is Egan, the stable master’s middle son.” She drew the boy forward. “He would like the honor of accompanying you to hang your colors at the entrance to the gorge.”
“I have not—”
“Lady Strangclyf made these over the winter months. ‘Twas one of her many projects.” Ardith held the folded cloths toward him and he accepted the offering. “One flies over the keep seaside and the other over the barbican at the entrance to the gorge. And seeing how you are taking suggestions, milord, I have always thought Eloina would be a good name for her. ‘Tis Latin and means worthy.”
Ardith left Bernon holding his colors and headed toward the common tower. Bernon tried to hide his surprise, but, God’s bones, since meeting his bride, his control at concealing his emotions seemed to have fled.
Geno chuckled. “I did not know you were taking suggestions, my friend.”
“I didn’t either.” Bernon looked down at the boy shifting from foot to foot in front of him. “Do you have a suggestion for me as well, Egan?”
The boy nodded and scratched his nose. “I think you should name her Special, ‘cause of she is.”
Bernon smiled and placed a hand on Egan’s shoulder. “Come, let us go hang my colors. Do you ride with us, Geno?”
“Not until I put a guard on Gremian,” Geno answered in a militant tone.
“You go on with Bernon, Geno. I will get Rodor and Tyrel to keep an eye on him,” Hugo said as the harsh features of his face sharpened. “The snake will not harm our little lady.”
Bernon led the way to the stables. He did not know how she had done it, but Barwolf had managed to win over the meanest of his men if she had Hugo on her side. She was well on her way to winning him too.
~ * ~
After exiting the keep, Barwolf broke into a run. She waved and smiled to her people and the Norman warriors going about their business, but she slowed for no one. Rounding the keep, she went through a hedgerow into a recessed area between the great chamber and the lord’s tower where she had planted a small flower garden. She needed a few moments of peace in her tranquil hideaway to ponder her situation. Walking around the small pebbled path, she inhaled the heady sweet fragrances and felt her tension ease a bit.
How could she ever prove herself worthy of Bernon? He must not have any confidence in her, for he was taking away all her duties and embarrassing her in front of the servants. ‘Twould be different if he liked her, but she had blundered everything from the moment she first cut her hair. She threaded her fingers through her short locks and released a heavy sigh. He hadn’t even cared enough for her gift to keep it.
And he must think her weak to insist she needed rest at such an early hour. He probably thought her useless too. How could she get him to let her help Ardith with the chores? ‘Twas too much work for one person and she loved Ardith too much to have her so burdened. Barwolf snorted. Ardith had not helped much by gloating over Bernon’s decision. She acted as if she had put him up to the ridiculous order.
Barwolf sighed. At least she didn’t have to feel afraid of him anymore. She wanted to spend some time with him too...alone. His strength seemed more a comfort than a worry now she knew he meant to protect her and would not hurt her. She wanted him to hold her and comfort her, so she would not feel so anxious about the changes in her life. Which surely did not make any sense because he was her biggest change.
She paused by a rose bush emitting a delectable aroma and sighed. She wanted Bernon to love her, and she wanted to love him back, sharing their lives rather than just being intimate strangers. And babies—she wanted him to give her lots of babies, so she could love them and spoil them, and they could love her back despite her flaws. They might even want her heart like her other children.
Thinking of her most special project, she smiled and nudged a large rock with her toe. She had five precious children whom nobody else wanted, and they brought so much joy to her life. She never felt inferior around them, because their love was unconditional, and they knew she felt the same way.
She had planned to hide them until she knew how Bernon felt about children, but maybe they would give Bernon pleasure too. He seemed somehow alone, even when he was with his friends—as if the defenses of battle never left him and he never found peace. He needed them as much as she did, and maybe they needed each other.
What if he did not like children? She would have to stand up to him, that’s what. He did listen to her and she couldn’t picture him throwing them out like her father would have done if he had known about them. She rubbed her left ear and sighed. ‘Twas time the children had a better home, was it not?
Why was she loafing? The children were probably frantic with worry after her absence. She had best go to them now.
She turned around and saw Medwyn standing at the edge of the garden leaning against the keep. “Hello, Medwyn. Were you needing me?”
“Nay, milady, you are needing me.” He smiled at her. “Bernon asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure you do not work.”
“He set a guard on me?” she whispered in a hurt voice.
“I am not an ogre even if I am a Norman.” Medwyn grinned, entreating her to share his jest. “There is no need to cry.”
“You think not?” She sniffed and wiped at her cheek where one traitorous tear rolled downward. “My husband trusts me so little that he has assigned me a keeper. For me, that is enough reason to cry.”
“Bernon just does not want you to overdo,” he said. “Why are you so upset? Do you not realize Bernon will guard you until he feels sure of the reigning temperament?”
She clenched her jaw, narrowed her eyes, and balled her fists. She couldn’t let this insult stand. She would show her husband what tough stock she was made from. “I will return to the keep and rest then.”
Without another glance at Medwyn, she hurried back to the hall. Ardith intercepted her near the common tower. “Jerold is resting, milady. Betia is diligent and does not require relief yet.”
Barwolf glanced over her shoulder at the warrior trailing her then looked back at Ardith and lowered her voice. “Thank you, Ardith. I had forgotten Jerold was in my chamber.”
“Lord Strangclyf bade me remove your things to the lord’s chamber with his,” Ardith whispered back. “He doesn’t know your things are where I cannot get to them. Will you be needing help with anything?”
“Nay. I have not much to move. Do you know...?” Barwolf blushed and glanced away. “Is my husband in his chamber?”
Ardith smiled. “He has gone with Geno and Egan to hang his colors over the barbican.”
“Thank you, Ardith.” Barwolf turned toward the lord’s tower and noticed Medwyn move to follow her. She sent a small apology to heaven for the lie she was about to tell. “I will be resting in the lord’s chamber for the remainder of the afternoon. If I decide to leave, I will send for you.”
Medwyn hesitated and stared at her as if he was trying to sort something out in his mind.
“Did you wish to say something, Medwyn?”
“Aye, milady. I do not think Bernon set me to following you because he does not trust you. I think he did it because he cares and would see you protected.”
“I am certain you are wrong, but I thank you for trying to spare my feelings.” She gave him a bitter smile and entered the lord’s tower.
Once she reached the lord’s chamber on the third floor, she went to the hearth and pushed on a stone. The wall beside the hearth sprang open. She pushed a stool she used for cleaning from under the bed to the wall, so she could stand upon the step and grab a torch. Then she slipped inside the passage and closed the wall.
She descended steep spiral steps, built into the tower wall, and entered the old Roman bath. Going behind a screen at the far end of the room, she placed the torch in a wall bracket and changed from the priest’s frock into her one remaining everyday gown, frowning at the bedraggled russet. She would have to repair the one Hadwyn had torn on the morrow.
Crossing the chamber, she slipped into the maze and hurried to her destination. She picked up a broken axe handle from the floor and rapped against the ceiling three times. A moment later, she heard three faint taps in reply.
She pulled a lever and a stairway lowered in front of her. She looked up at four jubilant faces grinning down at her then ascended the steps. “How are all my little doves?”
The children all clamored around her, speaking at once, competing for her attention. A happy laugh bubbled from her lips and she held up her hands. “Slow down and remember there is only one of me. Let me close the floor before one of you falls in, then I want proper hugs.”
“I will do it, Mama.” A thin boy of seven summers with dark-brown hair hobbled across the floor on his clubbed foot. He leaned over, opened a stone beside the steps, and released a lever, closing the entrance, then replaced the top of the stone.
“That was very good, Genius. I am glad you remember your escape latch. Come give me a hug.” Barwolf held her arms open to the boy whose face flamed over the compliment. His gray eyes sparkled as he limped to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “My, look how tall you are getting. I bet you grew another whole inch in the last week. Soon you will be as tall as me.”
“Uncle Aurick says that would not take much,” he replied, smiling up at her.
Barwolf laughed and ruffled his hair then turned toward two young girls of five and six summers who looked like twins except for an inch difference in their heights and the color of their eyes. They both shared identical thatches of chestnut curls and splatters of freckles across their noses. Their eyes determined their names—Sapphire and Topaz. “How are my precious gems?”
“I am happy you are home,” Topaz, the older of the two, said and wrapped her arms around Barwolf.
“I’m happy more, Mama,” Sapphire cried, throwing herself at Barwolf.
“I’m happy I am home too,” Barwolf exclaimed, hugging them back. After a fierce group hug, she set them back.
“My Amelia got a tummy ache and Ravyn sewed her well again,” Topaz said in a solemn tone, holding up her doll.
Barwolf frowned appropriately and kissed the doll’s stitches. “Did you thank her?
“Aye,” Topaz replied, tipping up her nose. “I was very polite and gracious.”
Barwolf felt a tug on her gown and turned to the younger sister. “And were you a good girl while I was gone, Sapphire?”
“Most of the time, but I accidentally broke a bowl, because I am a wild hoyden.” Sapphire cocked her head and beamed up at Barwolf. “What is a hoyden?”
A slender young girl of twelve summers with jet-black hair, who stood only a few inches shorter than Barwolf, snorted at Sapphire’s question, though a happy light danced in her pale-blue eyes.
“I am sorry I was gone so long, Rayvn,” Barwolf said to the girl. “Come give me a hug and tell me how you fared.”
Ravyn crossed the room and kissed Barwolf’s cheek. “I am happy you are home too. Ardith and Betia stayed with us until today when Padarn came. Genius slipped through the maze to the kitchen every day and Mae kept us supplied with food. Cora sneaked us some milk every day. We were staying inside until ‘twas safe to leave.”
“Manuel escaped,” Genius said with an exasperated shake of his head.
“I know,” Barwolf said, happy to see that manly little gesture. “He is at the keep, acting as page for King William.”
“I saw him,” Ravyn said, arching a sly brow.
“Saw who?” Barwolf asked.
“Your husband, the new Lord Strangclyf.” Ravyn released a dreamy sigh. “He is very handsome and he is huge.”
“Will he play on the sun with us?” Sapphire asked as excitement frolicked across her pixy face.
“Is he going to be my papa?” Topaz asked at the same time.
Barwolf grinned at the children. “Aye, Ravyn. He is huge and handsome. I do not know if he will play on the sun, Sapphire. And aye, Topaz, he is going to be your papa. Ravyn, let’s pack.”
“Where are we going?” Ravyn asked with a tone of surprise.
“Home.” Barwolf crossed the small room and began pulling cloths from pegs and tossing them on a pallet.
“But we are home,” Sapphire said, throwing her arms wide.
“Your new home,” Barwolf amended and winked at the girl.
“Where is that?” Topaz asked.
“The keep!” Genius shouted. “We are going to live at the keep with Mama!”
Four sets of excited eyes turned toward Barwolf and she nodded. “You certainly are,” she said, grabbing the corners of the sheet then lifting the makeshift pouch. “I th
ink this is enough for now, Ravyn. We can come back for everything else tomorrow.”
Nine
Bernon returned to the keep and went up to the lord’s chamber to check on his bride. Finding the room empty, he barreled down the stairs to the hall and saw Medwyn drinking ale with other soldiers.
“Where in perdition is she?” he bellowed.
Medwyn glanced up, surprised, and set down his tankard. “What are you ranting about?”
“My bride,” Bernon gritted out. “Where is she and why are you not with her?”
“She told me she was going to rest and she hasn’t come back down. I have waited here to escort her if she did.” Medwyn gestured to the area about him. “I haven’t a notion how she could have gotten by without me seeing her.”
“The damn maze,” Bernon muttered under his breath. He wiped a hand over his face and placed a fist on his hip.
“Milord, we have a problem,” Hugo said, coming in the rear door.
Bernon saw a crying three-year-old boy clinging to the warrior’s leg and recognized Fiona’s bastard. The woman was a camp follower who had been ailing for several weeks. “What happened?”
“Fiona passed. What do you want to do with her boy?” Hugo asked in a tone indicating he expected his lord to solve this problem without delay. “None of the men ever claimed him.”
“We shall keep him,” Barwolf called, having just entered the front door with her brood. “What is his name?”
Hugo looked up, appearing relieved, as she dropped her sheet-pouch and started across the hall, followed by two matching young girls, a limping boy, and a pretty older girl. “’Tis Karl, milady.”
“We cannot keep him, woman!” Bernon braced his feet apart as if about to battle his worst enemy.
“We have to, Bernon. If he is a bastard, nobody else will want him and I do.” Barwolf knelt down in front of the wailing child, who wrapped his arms around Hugo’s leg and hid his face against the soldier. “Hello, Karl. Welcome to Strangclyf. This is your new home.”
Karl peeked around Hugo’s leg and sniffed. The boy sucked in a breath through quivering lips and gazed at her through teary big brown eyes. “I know you are very scared, but we are going to take good care of you. Come over here where I can see you.”