“
She seems heartbroken,” Conan said.
“
Aye, it would seem. You should be aware, since you will
h
ave to deal with this. The lass had her own ideas for a bride for you.”
“
Chandra?” he questioned.
“
Ah, she plays at this now. She is young.” He laughed suddenly.
“
And what lass doesn’t set her sights on you? You are young, strong, rich! And a fine figure of a man. Many, I am sure, will have to give their hearts time to mend when you have spoken your vows to Edwina. ‘Tis the way of life.”
Conan looked at the memory of Chandra fleeing up the stair, and with a somewhat melancholy voice he said,
“
The way of life.”
“
Tis not like her to begrudge her sister’s happiness. In truth she is often the one to take extra chores upon herself so that Edwina can be lesser burdened. She has often given up something she loves to satisfy another’s craving. Aye, a generous lass. I am sorry you had to see her selfish jealousy this once.”
Conan looked up the stair, a strained expression on his face. He had barely had a moment to notice Chandra, but she had seemed even more beautiful than before, if that was possible. Suddenly, the moments she stood before him at his pavilion months earlier were quite clear in his mind
--
her glowing eyes, her lustrous hair and her captivating smile. Aye, little more than a child then, but blossoming into womanhood in a most alluring way. He cursed himself then for looking at one so young with such carnal thoughts, but he remembered well the dip his heart had taken. It was the same little lurch he felt just now when Medwin confessed that Chandra desired him. He had not felt that for his betrothed. He thought her fine and good and lovely, but there had been no passion stirring in his blood.
“
She is young and lovely,” he heard himself say.
“
She will make a man a good bride.”
“
Aye, and I will see that matter done after you and Edwina are wed. A horn of good ale, lad, and a toast to the spring and your wedding.”
“
Aye,” Conan said with a smile, taking the proffered cup and imitating Medwin, though a little less enthusiastically.
“
To the spring
--
and the wedding.”
***
With the bloom of the roses and lilies, the blossoms of the pear and apple trees, Phalen saw the arrival of many guests:
t
he prestigious lords and ladies who would witness the wedding of Sir Conan and Lady Edwina.
Though Medwin’s hall was not small and could accommo
date many for meals and revelry, trestle tables were set in the gardens, for Phalen would flaunt the flowers and blooming fruit trees that filled the air with a soft romantic scent.
About the village, seeds were sown for lettuce, melons, cresses, beets and onions. The humble folk no longer hid within the walls of their huts, but came out to hang the wash and weed their gardens, lingering for long periods over these tasks to converse with their neighbors. Bakers pulled their carts about the streets, and washwomen hummed as they hefted their heavy baskets from tub to line.
Within the hamlet the people chattered about the upcom
ing wedding, for the simple serfs were as enchanted by this union as the lordly guests were. Tales of Sir Conan’s feats in battle were well known, and his most recent occupation of Stoddard was one of the favorite stories. His choice of bride, the frail and genteel lady of Phalen, pleased one and all. Gossip surrounding the clothes sewn for Edwina and the gems the family would gift her with were as important as Conan’s technique in wresting Stoddard Keep from the usurper’s hands. Everywhere, from castle to town, there was buzzing over this noble couple. Many times Chandra wanted to cover her ears with her hands and run screaming from their voices.
Chandra’s birthday was over and she had passed four and ten. Had there not been so much ado over Edwina’s wedding, more notice might have been taken of the fuller breasts and long slender legs that appeared on this young maiden. Some voices broke from the preoccupation with the wedding to remark, as Chandra passed, that she had locked herself away within the keep for the winter and emerged a woman. But Chandra heard none of that. She heard only the praises attesting to Edwina’s petite beauty and her likeness to their beloved Millicent.
Within the great walls of a nobleman’s castle there is no protection from the realities of life. Chandra had known about the coupling of a man and woman for many years. She had already given assistance to women in childbirth. Most of her childhood companions were already wed to her father’s men-at-arms or bowmen or village farmers and apprentices.
While she envied them their round bellies, they envied the delicacy of decision over the marriage contract of a nobly born woman.
Cordell was the prize Chandra would dangle before her suitors. It was not nearly as rich as Phalen. It had belonged to Millicent and to Millicent’s mother, managed by women for many years. Medwin had given his wife a free hand to manage her dower lands, and when Chandra married, the contract would be the same.
Chandra had been reared to manage Cordell, for it had been decided long ago that Phalen would be Edwina’s, Laine would take money as her dowry to the church, and Cordell would belong to Chandra. She knew every detail of the estate by heart. It was not a rich castle or wealthy village and had been maintained more as a retreat than a fortress. There was ample protection, but Cordell did not house a grand army.
Early in her youth when she would see Conan at celebra
tions during days of feasting and hunting, she had seen herself one day being his bride. He would have rich holdings, his own men-at-arms and stout walls, and Cordell would remain her haven. But now that that dream was crushed, she would attempt the next best possibility. She hoped to persuade her father to allow her Cordell and freedom from matrimony. What difference, after all, did marriage make to her right to manage her own dower lands? She would not bear children, but she would gladly allow the lineage from Conan and Edwina to inherit. A niece, perhaps. She doubted she could be a good wife to any man
--
now.
Cordell protected fewer than two thousand English com
moners. It was mainly a fishing village, but there was fertile land surrounding its other sides. In many ways it was a paradise. The people were well fed and healthy, which was a rarity in most of England’s small burghs. It did not lie in a path of destruction when armies traveled through the coun
try. To the east side the keep was built along a high and dangerous section of coastline, perched atop some rugged rocks. It was even too much trouble for the barbarous Vikings, when other ports were more easily conquered.
To the other sides just past the farmland was a forest so dense that to travel south to London one had to venture first north to Colchester to find the passable land routes. Except in the little bit of wood closest to the keep, only those with the
k
ing’s permission were allowed to hunt. And it was no dandy wood where children ran and played; it was a dense, thick jungle filled with wild game ranging from rabbits to wild boar. If an opposing army chose to attack Cordell, they would have to enter by the only road or spend weeks clearing a path through the wood. Marshes and gullies lay hidden, and the overgrowth was so thick that in many places the sunlight did not touch the ground.
Cordell had a clean, freshly scrubbed look, and the keep was bright and airy. There were large open courtyards, and the flowers seemed to bloom longer, the fruit trees seemed to yield more, and the people were industrious yet unhurried.
Chandra longed for Cordell. In the midst of her sister’s wedding, it would have been a blessed solace to be there.
There was no quiet to be found in all of Phalen. The arriving guests had made even the once-quiet gardens a flurry of activity. In the courtyard several men participated in javelin-throwing contests, and others prepared for a hunt. The women filled every corner and cubicle with sewing circles aimed at exchanging gossip.
She knew that with the wedding but a few days away she must press her way into Edwina’s crowded bedchamber and make herself available to her sister, or later endure her father’s wrath.
As she passed the many fussing women, one of her fears vanished. She needn’t face Edwina’s happiness, for in the farthest corner of the room, Edwina slumped in a chair. Her hand was resting on her brow and her eyes were closed. One maid passed her a cool cloth to hold to her face while another fanned her.
“
Edwina, are you ill?” Chandra asked.
“
Nay, dear heart,” Edwina replied weakly.
“
The room has become
--
so
--
close
...
”
“
A quiet moment will do you well,” Chandra advised.
“
I will be fine in a moment,” Edwina answered.
“
Let us send the ladies away, Edwina. They can see your gifts another time. You need rest and quiet.”
“
I’ve promised them, dear,” Edwina sighed.
“
They have come so far, and all they ask is to see my gifts and gowns.”
“
You cannot entertain them if your head aches. Invite them to breakfast with you tomorrow. That will do as well.”
Edwina shook her head.
“
I will be fine in a moment. I have
n
ot the heart to disappoint them. They have come so far and bring so many lovely
--
”
“
Edwina, if you press yourself beyond your endurance, you will not see your wedding day. Now, you have no wish to be sick abed when it is time to speak your vows. Never mind. I will do it for you.”
Chandra turned and sighed with impatience as she looked around the room. A stronger woman would swoon in the presence of such fussing and tittering. Without further hesita
tion, she approached some of the ladies in the room. She tactfully begged them to excuse her sister for a brief rest and promised every one she would have a chance to see the many fine things.
Chandra’s forthright manner would not accept disfavor or impertinence from any of them, and they did not show her anything less than understanding. With smiles of considera
tion and a few frowns of concern, the busy ladies departed the chamber and left Edwina and Chandra in peace and quiet.
Edwina did not open her eyes. She sighed, pressing the cool, damp cloth to her brow. Chandra drew a stool near, feeling some sympathy for Edwina and pity for the fact that she could endure very little strain. Chandra shook her head.
“
I do not know how you will manage,” she said so softly that Edwina did not hear.
“
Already my head ceases to ache,” Edwina sighed, open
ing her eyes and smiling at her sister.
“
I think you must take these wedding parties in smaller drafts,” Chandra suggested.
“
It will do you no good to make yourself ill. Have you eaten?”
“
I am not very hungry, dear,” Edwina replied.
“
A short rest will cure all my ills.”
Edwina pulled the cloth from her brow and with a half smile handed it to Chandra.
“
Thank you, Chandra. You are good to think of me.”
“
You’ll have to sleep for a while if you’re to be at your best for this evening’s entertainment.”
Edwina laughed softly and began to rise.
“
There is far too much to be done
--
” She stopped abruptly as though she felt a catch somewhere, but then straightened herself purposefully.
“
I have a few more things to see finished before I rest.”
Chandra felt trapped. She could plainly see that Edwina was exhausted and would likely collapse before she neared
t
he altar. It was tempting indeed to allow her older sister to run herself into the ground and never be able to rise from her bed to meet Conan before the priest.
Then wouldn’t every
one praise the grand match,
Chandra thought spitefully.
But she could not abandon Edwina, much as she would have liked to.
“
What more needs to be done?” she finally asked, though softly.
“
A great deal
--
a great deal indeed. I have not yet selected the birds to be roasted nor the food to be put out for the villagers. There are gifts to be given to the women attending me, a tithe for the priest
--
an amount not yet settled
--
and the minstrel I sent for has not arrived. I shall be busy until Conan arrives tonight.”
Chandra frowned in disapproval. Many of those chores for the wedding could have been taken care of days earlier, but Edwina was not very good at planning.
“
It is not so very much,” Chandra said.
“
Will you rest if I promise to see it done?”