The Innocent (23 page)

"We shall make them a fine gift, Eleanore, to show our gratitude," Ranulf said quietly.

"Can we go home tomorrow?" She smiled hopefully up at him. How very handsome he was! How strong and yet tender, and she loved him even if she did not dare to say it. Her gaze strayed to their son. What a marvel the babe was! His voice cut into her thoughts.

"I believe you should rest for a few days before we attempt to bring you home," Ranulf said. "I am on my way to Worcester in the morning. When I return, I shall stop here, and we shall journey home together, petite. Orva says it was an easy birth, but it cannot harm you to rest for a few days. I have given orders that a dozen of our men-at-arms come here in a week’s time to act as our escort. You are not to attempt to leave without me, petite. Do I have your word on it?"

"Aye." She was puzzled. "Why are you going to Worcester?"

"I have been sent for by Duke Henry, who is there secretly. Do not ask me why, because I do not know myself the reasons behind it all. As Duke Henry knows, my allegiance is to King Stephen, but I am certain there is no plot afoot. Sir Garrick was sent to me, and I hold him to be an honorable man. If I can render our future king some small service without infringing upon my loyalty to King Stephen, then it cannot harm us, petite. Duke Henry’s reputation is also one of honor, so I doubt he has asked me to come to Worcester for any nefarious purpose."

"I wonder what he wants," Elf said slowly. "If it is something that no one else can do, and you do it well, Duke Henry will undoubtedly be grateful. That could bode well for our son." She had begun to think like an ambitious mother. "Do not the duke and his wife have a son who is but an infant? Maybe one day Simon could serve him at court! If they grew up together, they might become friends.
Good friends.
What an advantage for our heir, Ranulf. Our fortunes could be made if you serve Duke Henry well!"

Ranulf de Glandeville looked at his wife in amazement. Now, here was a side of Eleanore he would have never expected existed. She had but birthed their son a few hours ago, and already she was aspiring and envisioning a grand future for him. He did not know whether to be pleased or fearful of this new woman to whom he was wed. "Simple knights rarely, if ever, do great lords such great a service that they are rewarded so magnanimously, petite. My name is not so proud that our son would become a playmate of Prince William's." He smiled at her, and patted her hand.

"You cannot know that for certain, my lord," Elf said to him.

Ranulf chuckled. His wife was not about to give up her dreams simply at his say-so. "Duke Henry, being unfamiliar with the country, has probably been asking the men with holdings in the various regions who live upon those holdings, all about the areas. I was sent to Ashlin because it is on the border between England and Wales. Duke Henry is a great warlord, Eleanore. He may be deciding if he wants to attack the Welsh once England is his by inheritance. I can think of no other reason he might send for me, petite." He arose and, bending, kissed her lips lightly. "You have had a hard day, Eleanore. You must sleep now, and grow stronger. Tomorrow you will need to nurse our son."

"Will you come and see me before you depart in the morning?" she asked him anxiously. "Do not leave without saying adieu to us, Ranulf, and Simon must be baptized before you go."

"I won't leave beforehand," he promised, and then he left her.

Willa reentered the room softly and went to the makeshift cradle, picking up Simon and bringing him to his mother. "Ma says you must attempt to feed him now, lady. Your milk is not yet ready to flow, but the liquid that will come from your breasts is nourishing for the little lord."

Elf struggled to sit up in her cot. Finally comfortable, she unloosed the laces on her chemise and reached out for her son. "How do I do it?" she asked Willa as Simon began rooting about her breasts.

"Just put a teat in his mouth, lady. He'll do the rest," Willa told her mistress. "I seen Ma do it plenty of times."

Cradling her son with an arm, Elf rubbed her nipple against Simon’s small mouth. The mouth opened, and then clamped with surprising strength down upon the flesh. She gasped. "Holy Mother!" she exclaimed. "He is just like his father." Then Elf flushed, realizing what she had said aloud, but Willa just giggled. Fascinated, Elf watched as the infant suckled furiously and with great determination upon her. His blue eyes looked up at her, interested. "Aye," she told him. "I'm your mother, Simon Hubert. I never thought to be a mother, but here we are, my son."

Orva came into the dormitory chamber. "Ahh, you have begun to feed him. Good! He’s a big boy, lady. Move him to the other breast to encourage your milk to flow. Another day, two at the most, and you will be feeding him royally."

Elf switched the protesting baby from her right breast to her left. Simon suckled as strongly upon the second breast as he had upon the first, but eventually his eyes began to close. Suddenly his little head fell to one side, and he was sound asleep. Orva took the baby and restored him to his cradle, instructing her daughter to watch over the child until she was relieved by another.

"There are three postulants, and two novices within the convent now," Orva told her mistress. "The abbess says they will take turns watching over the baby during the niglittime hours so we may sleep. Are you hungry, lady?"

"I am tired," Elf said.

"Then, sleep," Orva instructed her. "You have done well, lady, and the world is at peace around us, praise be to God and His blessed Mother!"

S
ir Garrick Taliferro and Ranulf de Glandeville reached the town of Worcester two days later. Situated on the east bank of the Severn, Worcester was a beautiful little town with a long and proud history. To Ranulf’s surprise Duke Henry was staying with the bishop. Worcester had suffered at the Empress Matilda’s hand when her troops had fired the town fifteen years earlier. It had not been destroyed, however, and even when King Stephen’s men had attacked it five years ago, Worcester survived. Leveled buildings were rebuilt; the cathedral was restored, but for a fallen tower left to be repaired later.

As the duke’s visit was a secret one, there was no pomp or show, of course. Ranulf was led into a small, paneled room with a fireplace that burned brightly, taking the chill off the wet early June afternoon. Henry of Anjou greeted him with a small smile upon his lips.

"Welcome, Sir Ranulf."

Ranulf bowed low, becoming acutely aware as he arose of how he towered over the duke. Unconsciously he attempted to shrink himself, but the duke, seeing his efforts, just laughed.

"There is no way, my lord," he rasped in his strangely rough voice, "that you can make yourself any smaller. You are bigger than most men in length. While I am tall enough, I am cleverer than most men. If I were insulted by every man who was taller than I am, I should have no friends at all. Sit down, and we will talk."

The two men sat in high-backed wooden chairs with cushioned seats, facing each other.

"I need your help, Ranulf de Glandeville," the duke said. "King Stephen is not well at all. Losing his beloved wife and my wretched cousin, Eustace, in so short a period of time has made him disconsolate, dispirited. His interest in England, in the things about him have waned. He has lost his joy for living. It is unlikely that he will ever regain it. I am informed he is not expected to live for too much longer. I will be England’s king by year’s end, I am told. I believe it to be so.

"The line of descent is now clear, settled, established, and approved of by the church. Still, I worry the unruly English barons may seek to foment troubles, for they have very much had their own way during the years my mother and her cousin fought for supremacy here. I must return immediately to Normandy to oversee my estates, and those of my wife; to put in place the government that will rule in my name once I am England’s king, and must make my progress back and forth across the channel. When I return in the autumn, I would bring my wife and my son with me to show England my queen and my heir. I hope the sight of them will help prevent trouble. I want you to return to Normandy with me. No one is to know that Alienor and William will come to England when I return. This is a secret that you must keep, for it is you I have chosen to escort my wife and son."

"Me?"
Ranulf was astounded. "My lord, should not this great honor go to a great lord? I am naught but a simple knight with a small holding. No matter Ashlin’s strategic location, I am still not an important man, and you already have my pledge of loyalty, my liege."

The bright gray eyes looked directly at Ranulf. "It is precisely for the reasons you think yourself unworthy for this task that I chose you, Ranulf de Glandeville. I want the queen and my son brought quietly to England without any fanfare. A great lord could not do that. A great lord might consider that by holding my wife and my son in their charge, that they would have power over me. I will not allow that to happen, and it will not with you. You are an honest man. I know that I can trust you, Ranulf de Glandeville. The queen must appear by my side. Once she and my son are here, I can protect them. It is the journey that is dangerous. You will travel in my train of knights when I return to Normandy in a few days' time. You will be one knight among many, and no one will think anything of it except that you are making your peace with me now that King Stephen is so obviously failing." Then the duke saw the stricken look upon Ranulf’s face. "What is it, my lord?" he asked, concerned.

"My wife, who is also Eleanore, has just two days ago delivered our first son. She was visiting friends at the convent of St. Frideswide’s when her time came upon her. I stopped there on my way to you, my liege, to see her, and our child. I promised her I would return to take them home to Ashlin. If I must go with you when you leave Worcester, how can I keep my promise to my wife?"

"Have you no squire or other knight on your estate who might escort the lady and child?" the duke, slightly annoyed, asked.

"My lord, I have told you, we are a small holding. I suppose I should have a squire, but until I married, I had not the means to support a squire. Would I not be less conspicuous if I came to Normandy alone, with no one to notice me? I should be just another knight, as you have said, coming to make my peace with you now that the lay of the land is clear."

"It is your first child? "

"Aye." Ranulf could not help but smile. "His name is Simon Hubert. He was born on St. Hubert’s feast day the good nuns informed my wife. Eleanore thought the name manly."

Duke Henry chuckled. "And do you love your wife, Ranulf de Glandeville? I am mad with love for my Alienor! She was France’s queen, but Louis, and his monkish ways, could get but two daughters on her. He had the marriage dissolved on the grounds of consanguinity, the fool! Not only did I gain my wife’s vast holdings, poor Louis’s second wife, Constance of Castile, has delivered him a third daughter, while Alienor has delivered a son to me! I adore her! Do you love your Eleanore?"

"I do, my lord," Ranulf said quietly, admitting aloud, albeit to the wrong person, what was in his heart. "She was to have been a nun, but that her brother died. She is everything that is good, my lord. I never thought a battle-scarred old warrior such as myself might have a wife, let alone such a sweet wife."

"Stephen will last the summer, I am assured," Duke Henry said. "Take a month to settle your affairs, but be on the road for Normandy by St. Swithen's. Take passage for Barfleur, and come to Rouen. I will be taking my wife and son to meet my mother for the first time. You will join the court there. It is a good thing that you love your wife, Ranulf. You will, therefore, be careful with mine and get her to England in safety. Once you are in Normandy, we will discuss my plans for her passage."

Ranulf de Glandeville arose from his seat, and bowed low to the king. "I am yours to command, my liege."

"You will speak with no one about this, except perhaps your wife, if she can be counted upon not to gossip," Duke Henry warned.

"I understand," Ranulf replied, and backed from the small chamber out into the corridor. There was no one waiting for him. He made his way to the courtyard and into the stables, where he found his horse in a wide stall. After unfastening his sword belt, Ranulf put the weapon aside and lay down on a large pile of fresh straw in the rear of the stall. He was awakened by a narrow beam of light coming in through a crack in the wall. Arising, he peed in a corner, then buckled his sword back on, and left.

"Have my beast saddled in half an hour’s time," he told a stable-boy mucking out the stall opposite his. He went outside, splashed water from the horse trough on his face, and slicked back his hair. Following a group of priests into the bishop’s palace, he found the great hall, where breakfast was already being served. Baskets of bread were placed on the trestles, and wooden cups for ale were filled by passing servants. There was a small wheel of cheese on each table. Ranulf reached into the basket, and pulled out a small cottage loaf. With his knife he cut a wedge of cheese.

He ate in silence as he did not recognize anyone at the tables around him. Garrick Taliferro was nowhere to be seen, but that was to the good. He did not have to explain what the duke wanted with him. He ate half the bread and cheese, stuffing the remainder in his purse for the road, for he couldn't be certain when he would have the opportunity to eat again. After draining his cup of ale, he arose and left the hall. His horse was saddled and tied outside the stable, but the stable lad was not in sight. Ranulf mounted and rode out.

The sun was just coming up as he passed through the gates of the town onto the road back to Ashlin. He rode until the sun was at its midday zenith, stopping beside a swiftly flowing stream to water his horse. He let the animal graze nearby while he sat beneath a tree and finished the remainder of his bread and cheese, slaking his thirst with the icy water. Refreshed, he remounted his horse and rode onward. It was June, and the daylight remained well into the early evening. Ranulf was relieved when the monastery he had stayed at on his ride into Worcester appeared over the crest of the hill. Reaching it, he begged shelter from the porter at the gate.

He was just in time for a small meal served to guests. He was given a little loaf of bread and a haunch of broiled rabbit with a small cup of ale. The monk in charge of the guest quarters, however, took pity on Ranulf, bringing him another piece of the rabbit, for he could see the knight was hungry, and he was, after all, a big man.

"Where are you bound for, lord?" he asked curiously.

"St. Frideswide's," Ranulf answered, bobbing his dark head in thanks for the additional food. "My wife was visiting when she delivered our son there." He chewed for a moment as he thought about his words, then lied. "I was in Worcester when word was brought me by a passing traveler. I am now going to fetch her and take her home to Ashlin."

"Ashlin? You are the lord of Ashlin?" the monk said.

"I am."

"You are very near the Welsh, and they are, I am told, growing restless of late."

"The manor is well defended, good brother. Our walls are high, and my men-at-arms well trained."

"That will not help if they burn your crops and steal your livestock," the monk replied. "They do it for the pure joy of destruction. The Welsh are godless creatures, my lord."

"Then, I will ask you to pray for Ashlin and its people." Ranulf grew concerned. "Have you heard something of late, good brother?"

"They are raiding again. Just little forays over the border, here and then there. One bandit in particular is known by name. He is called Merin ap Owen, and it is said he rides with a golden-haired witch who is as bloodthirsty as he. No one is safe from them. Several weeks ago they burned a small convent, St. Bride's, murdering the elder nuns and violating the younger women before they killed them. The carnage, it is said, was terrible, my lord." The monk shook his head sadly. "You should not travel alone."

"I am well armed," Ranulf said. "Besides, I do not look like a man worth robbing, good brother."

"There is your horse, my lord."

"True, but Shadow can outrun any bandit’s pony, I assure you."

"I will pray for you, my son," the monk said. "And for Ashlin."

Ranulf was relieved that he was, that night, the only guest at the monastery and did not have to share his pallet with anyone. He arose in the gray of predawn to attend Prime in the monk’s austere church. He was then given a surprisingly hearty breakfast of oat stirabout in a trencher of warm bread. He ate the cereal and half the bread, putting the other half into his purse for later. After draining his cup of cider, he arose, leaving a coin on the table and thanking the guest-house monk, then went to the stables to fetch his horse. The beast had been treated as well as he himself had, and so in a burst of generosity, he gave another coin to the monk who managed the stables.

He rode again until midday, stopping to water and graze his mount while he devoured the remaining trencher of bread he had carried with him. He would be at St. Frideswide’s tonight, and the meal would be another simple one. He longed for home and a hearty supper of a steamy rabbit stew with a wined gravy, a plate of juicy prawns, and a sweet pudding.
Cheese.
As much as he wanted.
Butter.
A fresh crock of it for his warm bread. Ranulf laughed as he remounted his horse and continued on his journey. He had become quite used to the soft life of a landowner. Having to take to the road again as a simple knight would be quite a hardship.

Was he being disloyal to King Stephen, he questioned himself? Yet Duke Henry had asked no great task of him, and that task certainly did not conflict with his loyalty to his king. He had, after all, pledged his fealty to Duke Henry once he became king, Ranulf reasoned. Bring the future queen to England with her child in safety, and he would have done Henry of Anjou a valuable service. What would Henry do for him? Kings were known to reward their faithful servants. What did he want? The question would be asked of him.

Ranulf considered. Suddenly he knew. He wanted the king’s permission to build a castle. To seriously help in protecting the border between England and Wales, Ashlin needed to become a castle. He could not build that castle without the king’s express permission. He would ingratiate himself with the future queen in order to gain her support as well. Ranulf smiled a wry smile. His wife would be proud of him, he thought, for he was at last thinking like a husband, a father, a lord of the manor. He chuckled, and his horse’s ears twitched back for an instant at the sound.

He rode until almost dusk, finally coming into sight of the convent. With a sigh he kicked his mount into a loping canter and eagerly gained his objective. Sister Perpetua was standing at the gates, one side of which were open and the other closed. He rode through and heard the open gate slam shut behind him with a noisy
thunk.
Sliding from his horse, he helped her lift the heavy wooden bar into place.

"Thank you, my lord," the portress said. "We waited for you. Eleanore was certain you would arrive before dark."

"I did promise her I would not linger in Worcester," Ranulf replied. "Have my men arrived, sister?"

"Late this afternoon, my lord. We have housed them with their animals in the stables. Reverend Mother thought it best."

"Thank you," he said. "Where is the abbess? I would pay her my respects before I go to my wife and child."

"You will find her in the chapter house."