A Night of Angels

by Andersen, Maggi

  Geoffrey took the cloth Tilda left on top of the bath sheet and pulled the stool close to the tub. He dipped the cloth into the bath and took the cake of soap, lathering the cloth well. As he bathed her, his heart filled with love. This woman was the center of his life. He imagined them growing old together over the decades to come.

  “No man is as lucky as I am,” he told her as he rinsed the suds from her skin.

  Merryn didn’t respond. She had fallen asleep.

  Geoffrey raised her from the wooden tub and wrapped her in the bath sheet. She murmured something as he dried her and then fell back to sleep. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the large bed they shared. The curtains had already been drawn back, as well as the covers. He was thankful that Tilda thought of everything.

  Placing Merryn into the bed, he eased the bath sheet away and brought the covers over her. Quickly doffing his own clothes, Geoffrey climbed under the sheets and wrapped his body around hers.

  “I love you, Geoffrey,” she said, her hand covering his as it rested against her belly.

  “I love you even more, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Five

  Daralys awoke with a dull ache in the small of her back. A heaviness had settled over her and she didn’t know if she possessed the strength to rise from the pallet that she’d shared with Griselda. Dreams of her hostess had peppered the hours of the night and she’d seen Griselda from a young age until now. She supposed it was because of the close proximity of the woman as they’d slept. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept beside anyone, not even as a child.

  Her mind still raced with the images of Griselda and all she’d learned about the woman who’d provided her shelter. Poor Griselda had led a hard life and it would only become more difficult in the months ahead.

  She wondered if she should share what she’d learned with the old woman.

  The door opened and Griselda entered. Daralys watched her through slitted eyes as she set the bucket down and stirred the embers of the fire. After another trip, Griselda returned with fresh wood and added it to the fire.

  Pushing herself up, Daralys said, “Good morn to you.”

  “And to you,” her hostess said briskly. “’Tis a cold day. It snowed during the night.”

  “You said Kinwick is half a day’s ride from here?”

  “Aye, if you galloped the entire way. You’re on the far north edge of Winterbourne lands. It will take you longer to reach your destination because of your condition. You’ll need to walk your horse. A hard ride would bring on your labor.” Griselda looked her over. “As it is, you may not reach Kinwick before you give birth. Mayhap, you should stay with me.”

  “Thank you for your kind offer but I must press on. It’s important that I arrive at Kinwick before the babe comes.” Why, Daralys couldn’t say. It was more a feeling that filled her. The certainty that her babe must come on Kinwick lands, though she’d never even visited the great estate.

  “Then it’s best you eat something before you go,” Griselda proclaimed.

  Daralys excused herself and wrapped her cloak around her before going outside to relieve herself. It concerned her when a clump of thick mucus came out, tinged with both brown and red. She wondered if it meant the babe would come soon and sent a quick prayer to Heaven, asking for strength and the Virgin’s guidance.

  Griselda was right. The rising sun shone across a sea of white, snow blanketing the ground where there’d been none yesterday. Fortunately, the wind of last night had died down and the air was still in the early morning light.

  When she returned, she saw Griselda had scooped up the last of the stew. Daralys ate quickly, eager to be on the road again. Tomorrow was Christmas. Something about the day spoke to her.

  “I don’t have much,” Griselda said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Daralys watched her tie a small loaf of bread into a cloth. Before she could say anything, the old woman pressed it into Daralys’ hands, their skin touching. Griselda gasped at the contact, clutching Daralys’ wrist, and then moaned.

  Breaking the contact between them, Daralys stepped back. Having touched the old woman, she saw even more than her dreams had revealed.

  “What are you?” Griselda asked, suspicion in her watery eyes.

  “I am a seer,” she said softly. “I have seen your life. You’ve lived a hard one with little reward. Your husband, Rufus, died after you’d only been wed for five years. Your older son, also Rufus, passed as well when he was a small boy. William still lives, though, and comes to see you. He will bring his two boys with him when he visits you tomorrow on Christmas Day.”

  Griselda shrank back, making the Sign of the Cross with a trembling hand. “How do you know these things?”

  “I don’t know,” Daralys admitted. “The gift has always been with me. I get a sense of things. If I touch someone, I see what they have lived through and, sometimes, what is to come.” She paused. “Will you tell William that you are ill?”

  When Griselda didn’t answer, Daralys said, “You should. You will not see another Christmas season.”

  “You’re a witch,” Griselda hissed. “I invited a witch into my home.” Fear flashed in the woman’s eyes. “You’ve cursed me.”

  “Nay, Griselda. You knew even before I came that your body was giving out. That something inside is growing. If you don’t tell your boy, then at least tell him that you love him and his sons. You’ve never done that before.”

  “You’re a monster!” the old woman shrieked. “The Devil Himself! How could you know such things?” She grabbed a knife and held it out menacingly. “Get out. Now,” she demanded, her voice quaking as she waved the blade about.

  As Griselda took a step forward, Daralys backed away toward the door. Suddenly, Griselda screamed and charged. Daralys turned and flung open the door, running for her life. She stumbled and fell to her hands and knees, scrambling up and continuing to run.

  “Leave, you cursed one!” the old woman shouted.

  Daralys heard the cottage door slam and stopped, panting, leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees. As she caught her breath, she bemoaned the fact that her cloak was inside the abode. She had no doubt Griselda would do her harm if she returned and tried to retrieve it. Shivering, she made her way back the way she’d come, crouching to recover the small cloth containing the bread. She went to the shed where her horse stood and untied it with trembling hands.

  It took her several attempts to mount the animal. Once in the saddle, the heaviness seemed to drag her down. Her back still ached. Her breasts seemed heavier than ever. The baby had dropped even lower and now had awakened, kicking hard against her ribs. Her joints seemed loose. All these must be signs that her labor pains would start soon. Worry filled her. She couldn’t be on the open road and give birth. She must be inside the walls of Kinwick.

  In the stable . . .

  Daralys stroked the horse’s mane. “Take me where I need to go, my friend. We must reach Kinwick.”

  With that, she steered the horse toward the south, praying to the Virgin Mary to watch over her.

  Merryn awoke to a cheery fire in the grate. She stretched lazily and saw Geoffrey hovering above her, a tray in his hands.

  “Good morn, sweetheart,” he said, love for her shining in his hazel eyes.

  She pushed herself up and placed the pillows behind her back before leaning against them.

  “I’ve brought you something to break your fast.”

  “I’ve missed mass?” she asked.

  “Aye. I thought it best to let you and the babe get some extra rest.” He placed the tray in her lap. “You might even want to nap this afternoon in order to stay awake during midnight mass tonight.”

  She took a piece of the bread and spread jam from a small pot over it. Sinking her teeth into it, the tangy fruit spread filled her mouth with a sweet flavor and she sighed.

  “I’m also at your service today,” Geoffrey told her.

  “Bathing me wasn’t en
ough?” she teased.

  “The men will only train for half the day. Gilbert can supervise them. I want to help you place the Christmas greenery.” He paused, sadness crossing his handsome face. “I’ve missed doing it.”

  Merryn clasped his hand. Even as a boy, Geoffrey had enjoyed the Christmas season. She couldn’t imagine what he went through during his years of suffering, alone, feeling abandoned. This would be the first Christmas since his return. She would make it their best Christmas yet.

  “I will be glad for the help,” she said warmly. “The children have already gathered the holly and ivy and are excited about placing it today. They’ll be thrilled that you will supervise them. They do love you so.”

  “And I them.” He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against her knuckles.

  A knock sounded at the door and Geoffrey left their bedchamber to go to the solar. He returned moments later, a rolled parchment in hand.

  “Raynor’s sent us a missive. No need to reply.”

  He perched on the bed at her feet and broke the wax seal before unrolling the message.

  “Read it aloud,” she urged as she sipped her ale.

  My dearest Geoffrey and Merryn –

  Greetings from Beatrice and myself during this most Holy season.

  Oh, how things have changed for us all since last Christmas. You, Geoffrey, are home where you belong, surrounded with love from Merryn and the twins. And I? Who knew I would have found true love, much less become Baron of Ashcroft?

  This is my first Christmas away from Kinwick in many years. I hope we can celebrate the birth of the Living Christ together next year, whether at Kinwick or Ashcroft. For now, my darling wife and I are surrounded by the many relatives that the Earl of Lovet has gathered for us to meet during our visit to his estate. After so many years in isolation, Beatrice is enjoying getting to know all of her kin her uncle has gathered under one roof. It will take time for us both to get the names of all of these cousins straight but ’tis obvious that they have opened their hearts to her and want to make up for all the years she was missing from their family. I gaze at her and see that beautiful dimple as she smiles during the stories they tell and find that whatever our future holds, we will live it together in love.

  My wish to you this Christmas season is to hold fast to one another and tend to your garden of love each day. Beatrice and I plan to call at Kinwick on our way home next month. She has written a new song she is eager to play for you, while I want to see how Ancel and Alys are progressing in their sword skills. I suppose with a babe coming that I will need to fashion another sword for this new de Montfort child.

  My best wishes to you, dearest Geoffrey and Merryn. You are as close to me as family and next to Beatrice, the people I trust most. Have a happy Christmas and much love.

  Raynor

  Geoffrey cleared his throat and rolled up the parchment. He rose and placed it on the table, where she knew he would read it several more times.

  “I know you will miss Raynor’s presence at Christmas this year,” she said.

  “We spent many of them together, both as boys and then as soldiers on the battlefield.”

  He returned and sat next to her, cupping her cheek. “I couldn’t be happier for him. To have found Beatrice and being elevated to Baron of Ashcroft has certainly changed his life.”

  “I’m glad he was willing to forgo spending Christmas at Ashcroft in order for Beatrice to meet all of her father’s relatives.”

  Geoffrey’s thumb stroked her cheek. “Raynor is the same as I am. We are men who would do anything for the women we love.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her long and slow.

  She would have been happy to couple with him but Geoffrey broke the kiss. “The day is wasting away. You need to dress. I told Father Dannet that we would attend to the church and trees this morning before we decorated the keep.”

  He reached for his cloak and slipped it about his shoulders. “I’m off to check on Mystery. His knee was a bit swollen yesterday. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll meet you out front with the apples.”

  Merryn rose from the bed and put on her chemise and an older cotehardie, one she didn’t mind getting a little dirt on as they decorated inside and outside the keep today. Before she went downstairs, she pinned on the sapphire brooch that she wore next to her heart every day. It had been Geoffrey’s wedding gift to her, one that she’d worn through the years and would continue to wear to her grave. She draped her cloak around her shoulders and exited the solar.

  In the corridor, she passed Tilda and said, “Would you have the piggies brought to the solar?”

  “Aye, my lady. Shall Diggory and I place the coins in them?”

  “Nay, I think this year we’ll have the children do that with us.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  Merryn continued downstairs and the twins greeted her as she entered the great hall.

  “We have two barrels of apples waiting outside, Mother,” Alys said, skipping about. “Father says we’ll use them to decorate the trees for Adam and Eve Day.”

  “Eve wasn’t very nice,” Ancel pointed out. “She ate an apple when she wasn’t supposed to. And she made Adam eat one, too. It got him in trouble.”

  Alys tapped her foot. “Adam didn’t have to eat anything he didn’t want to. He chose to eat that apple, Ancel. Don’t blame Eve for what Adam did on his own.”

  “She brought it to him,” her brother said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “He’s the one who took the bite. She couldn’t make him bite and chew,” Alys retorted.

  “They were both guilty of not obeying God,” Merryn said. “Let’s leave it at that.” When she saw Alys eying Ancel, she pulled her daughter aside and whispered, “Don’t even think about making Ancel do something he doesn’t want to do.”

  “Yes, Mother,” her daughter said meekly, though mischief still danced in her eyes.

  “Let’s join your father outside,” Merryn said and took their hands as they left the great hall.

  Geoffrey awaited them, standing next to two large barrels filled with bright red apples.

  “Why do they call today Adam and Eve Day, Father?” Ancel asked.

  “The Church honors Adam and Eve as the father and mother of all people. Remember this morning during mass? Father Dannet told their story. ’Tis a tradition to recall their tale the day before Christmas each year.”

  “That’s why we place apples in the trees near the chapel,” Merryn added.

  “I’m glad they ate the apple,” Ancel declared. “I like the taste of them. If Adam and Eve hadn’t eaten one, then we wouldn’t eat them today.”

  They spent an hour nesting the fruit in different branches as a light snow fell and then surveyed their work.

  “What’s next?” Alys asked.

  “The crib,” Merryn said. “I’m not sure where it is.”

  “Diggory will know,” cried Ancel. “He remembers everything. I’ll go ask him.”

  She watched her son race toward the keep, where their steward kept his office. Alys took off after her brother, both children leaving footprints in the snow. Geoffrey came and stood behind her, wrapping his arms about her, his chin resting atop her head.

  “I marvel each day how we created such perfect creatures,” he said.

  Merryn leaned against him. “They are good children.”

  He rubbed her belly. “I wonder what this one will be like.”

  “Very different from Alys or Ancel,” she replied. “This child will be who he or she is. It may resemble one of us but be unique in its own way.”

  They stood together in silence, reveling in being together, until the twins came racing down the stairs of the keep.

  “It’s in the stables,” Ancel called, running in that direction, Alys right on his heels.

  Geoffrey slipped Merryn’s arm through his. “Let’s go get the crib for the Christ Child.”

  They found it in a stall near the back and Geof
frey hoisted it onto his shoulder to bring it back to the chapel. Ancel and Alys each scooped up a bit of hay to place inside it. Father Dannet met them in the chapel and told Geoffrey where to place the crib. The children put their hay inside and Alys artfully scattered more around the base of it.

  “Why do we not put a babe in it?” she asked. “We could use one of my dolls.”

  “Good Christians await the birth of the Christ Child,” the priest explained. “He is the reason for this season of love. The empty crib allows us to anticipate Christ’s arrival.”

  “Let’s go back to the keep,” Merryn suggested. “We need to put up our decorations there.”

  As they worked placing holly and ivy, she told them the tale of the Three Magi and the gifts they brought to Mary’s son, who was the Son of God.

  “I know what gold is,” Ancel said. “What is myrrh? And frank . . . frank . . . what is it again?”

  “Frankincense,” Geoffrey said. “It’s a fragrant gum resin that can be used in incense. Myrrh is similar. A wonderfully aromatic gum resin you extract from a tree. It can be mixed into incense or a perfume. Even added to wine. The Magi brought very valuable gifts to the Holy Child.”

  “We give gifts to our tenants, don’t we, Mother?” Alys asked. “On Boxing Day.”

  “Aye. That’s what we’ll work on next, children. We’ll stuff the hollow clay pots with coins and ride with these pots in a wagon around the estate the day after Christmas. Each household receives one of the piggies and the man of the cottage will slam it to ground. When it breaks, he can retrieve the coins within. I think the two of you are old enough now to accompany your father and me around Kinwick so you can help us distribute the pots.”

  “Yea!” Alys grabbed Ancel’s hands and they began dancing around the great hall.

  “They are a pair,” Geoffrey said and then took her hands and also swung her around.

  Merryn danced until she ran out of breath and begged him to stop.

  “The babe is awake and kicking,” she said, winded by the exertion. “Ancel, Alys, come here.”

  The twins ran to her and she took each of their hands and placed them against her belly.