The Wolf and the Dove (29 page)

“You have chosen the possessions to take with you. I hope you have chosen well, for these are what I leave you with. Sir Gowain.” He turned to that young knight. “Take your men and move these people to yonder field and hold them there.” He raised his arm. “The rest of you, follow me.”

Reining the Hun about, he set the great horse flying toward the town. There in the square he gave further orders to Milbourne.

“Search each house and bring out what gold and silver or other worth you may find there. Place them in the cart. Bring also any ready foodstuffs and place them on the stoop of yonder church. As each house is done close the door and mark it. When the village is done, set a torch to every shelter, sparing naught but the church and the graineries.”

Wulfgar then turned and rode to a knoll where he could watch both the people and the town. As the sun sank lower and the shadows lengthened it seemed as if the town with its black stark windows stared aghast as the soldiers ran like ants upon its face taking its wealth, gathering its food. A moment of stillness and the dark eyes reddened as a first flicker of flames began to grow; then a thick red tongue lapped hungrily up a gabled eave. The churning clouds above took on hues of red and orange from the flames and as he lifted his eyes Wulfgar felt the first cold chill of snow upon his cheeks.

The townspeople realized the fruit of the Norman labor and a low moan came to Wulfgar as their voices raised in anguished protest. Now his men withdrew from the town, hauling the creaking cart behind them and he descended from the hill in a rush of hooves, his mood blackened by what he had wrought. He came to a skidding halt before the Saxons and they cowered in fear before his towering rage.

“Watch!” he roared. “And know that justice is swift in William’s land. But I bid you heed me. I will return again this way to see what you have done, thus I charge you build again and know as you labor that you build this time for William.”

The snowflakes fell in earnest now and Wulfgar knew that he must hurry for there was still some way to go and a sheltered camp must be laid against the storm. He pointed his lance down the darkening road and the last of his men withdrew, falling in behind the heavily laden cart. Wulfgar bent his gaze a last time to the roaring flames eating at the village’s walls and the growing column of smoke that flayed away as the wind whipped it in a great spiral. He shouted above the noise to the sheriff.

“You have shelter left and meager food and winter draws near.” He laughed. “I vow you will have no time for battling other Normans.”

He raised his lance in a last salute and kicked the Hun after his departing troops as the villagers watched them go. The people finally turned, their defeat written upon their faces, yet deep within each heart they knew what he had destroyed could be replaced. He had left them with life and with life they could build again.

The fresh coverlet of white crunched coldly beneath her feet as Aislinn made her way from her mother’s cottage to the hall. Darkness had settled with an ear-nipping chill and errant flakes of snow swirled and danced through the few stray beams of light that crossed her path. She lifted her gaze to a featureless black sky that seemed to glower close above the rooftops and press her world to a narrow slice between it and the hard-frozen earth. Aislinn paused in her stride and let the stillness of the night ease her troubled spirit. After spending time with her mother she always felt drained of strength and somehow a little less capable of facing the plaguing doubts that seemed to belabor what confidence she could muster, until she swore another day would see her broken and begging for mercy. With each day’s passing her mother slipped deeper into delusions that demanded revenge on the Normans. If Maida succeeded in her vengeance, William’s justice would seek her swiftly. Aislinn knew of no potion
that would help in drawing out the festering hatred that twisted her mother’s reasoning. She felt deep frustration that she could be of benefit to others, curing their ailments and healing their wounds, yet could do nothing for her only kin.

An icy tingle of snowflakes upon Aislinn’s face refreshed her, and with a quicker step she hurried to the hall. As she drew near, she noticed a cart drawn up before the doors. She casually mused on what poor soul was seeking shelter at Darkenwald this cold night and if he would find compassion in Gwyneth where others could not. That one’s evil humor, crudely bent upon the hearty appetites of serf and soldier, was not warranted to stop there but quite often extended to the embarrassment of visitors and family alike. Gwyneth ridiculed her father and Sweyn behind their backs because they were prone to indulge themselves with meat and drink now and then, being of sturdy frame. Though in truth Bolsgar and Sweyn supplied the game that graced the tables and kept hunger well away from the manor’s door. Even the kindly Friar Dunley found himself the recipient of malevolent thrusts of Gwyneth’s aspish tongue when he came.

Thus conditioned to expect the worst from Gwyneth’s irate disposition, Aislinn pushed open the door and set it closed again before glancing at the group before the hearth. With deliberate slowness she doffed her heavy woolen mantle and approached the warmth of the fire, looking first to Bolsgar to determine the temperament of his flaxen-haired daughter. When Gwyneth raged, Bolsgar frowned and grew tight-lipped. But for the moment he seemed relaxed and feeling some relief, Aislinn turned her attention to the three roughly dressed adults and the children who huddled near the blazing fire.

The youngest lad gaped in awe at the brilliant copper tresses that curled around her shoulders. His stare brought a smile to Aislinn’s lips and his dark eyes twinkled back in immediate friendship. She was not met with amity when she faced the younger of the two women, however. Indeed the other seemed to regard her with great wariness and hung back from the group, eyeing her every move. Aislinn could not mistake the similarity she bore the boy and assumed that if not mother and son, they were surely closely related.

The man, Aislinn saw, was pale and trembling and wore his weariness in a tightly drawn face. His wife stood quietly at his side, watching all that transpired. Aislinn sensed here a deep wisdom and calm strength and returned the slow smile the woman gave.

The other youths were older than the dark-eyed boy. There was a large lad perhaps as old as Ham, a younger girl who barely showed the first bloom of womanhood, and a pair of boys that Aislinn could tell no difference between.

“We had almost given you up for lost, Aislinn.”

She turned in wary alertness for Gwyneth had spoken with a hint of courtesy in her voice and that alone was enough to put Aislinn’s defenses in high key. She did not know the game but waited, outwardly calm and poised as the woman drew the moment out.

“We have guests come from Wulfgar,” Gwyneth continued and watched a new spark of interest light the violet eyes. Lifting a hand toward the group she called them by name and then added, seeming pleased, “He has sent them here to live.”

“It is so, my lady,” Gavin nodded. “My brother, Sanhurst, is with him even now.”

“And my lord? Is he well?” Aislinn inquired, her voice warm and friendly.

“Yea, the Norman is fit,” the man replied “He pulled us from the mire and we made camp with him on that night. He gave us food and bade us journey here.”

“Did he say his length of stay?” Aislinn questioned. “Will he be coming home to Darkenwald soon?”

Gwyneth sneered. “You betray your lust for him, Aislinn.”

A rosy hue stained Aislinn’s cheeks but Gavin replied kindly:

“No, my lady. He did not say.”

Gwyneth’s gaze passed from Aislinn to the young widow who studied the other intensely, her eyes measuring Aislinn’s trim frame and the swirling copper hair that fell past her hips. Gwyneth’s eyes sharpened and gleamed as she thought of her next words, a small lie but one that would serve her purpose well.

“Wulfgar has bade Haylan and her son in particular to abide here at Darkenwald.”

Aislinn knew the sharp edge beneath Gwyneth’s words as she glanced at the widow whose eyes had widened considerably. Haylan now managed a tremulous smile under her regard, but Aislinn could not find it in her to return the gesture.

“I see,” she said. “And you have made them welcome, Gwyneth. Wulfgar will be pleased with your kindness.”

Gwyneth’s pale eyes grew cold. “Since I am his sister, should I not know that much better than you?” A sharp ear could have detected the bitter harshness in her tone. “Wulfgar is a most gracious lord. He even treats slaves more kindly than they deserve and clothes them richly.”

Aislinn feigned a moment of confusion, knowing well the woman made reference to her. “Truly? Forsooth, I had noticed none save you, dearest Gwyneth, more finely garbed than they were before.”

A smothered chuckle shook Bolsgar’s great shoulders and Gwyneth gave him a murderous look. It was well known that she had taken full possession of Aislinn’s few remaining gowns and made no secret of the seizure. Gwyneth now sat in the younger woman’s mauve gunna while Aislinn herself wore the somewhat frayed gown she had always donned when cleaning was to be done. Now it was her best and only one.

Gwyneth’s voice rose cuttingly. “It has always struck me odd how a man can swear faithfulness to a woman and then when gone from her side immediately seek the more available warmth at hand. It must be doubly dear that Wulfgar would find a form so comely that he should send it to his home to await his return.”

Haylan choked and coughed to catch her breath, drawing Aislinn’s immediate attention. She frowned slightly at the widow, wondering what had transpired between her and Wulfgar to make her act in such a manner.

With quiet dignity Aislinn spoke. “Wulfgar is much of a stranger to all. Not one here can truthfully say they know him well enough to judge what his worth might be, if any. As for myself, I only pray that he is honorable and will not play the knave. Time alone will bring the answer to us, and I will rest my fate upon my trust in him.”

Aislinn then turned abruptly, cutting off whatever Gwyneth had meant to reply and left her stuttering with open mouth as she bade Ham fetch her tray of medicines.

“I perceive this good fellow has need of my ministrations, unless of course one of you have offered to tend him.”

She looked first to Haylan who shook her head and grimaced and then to Gwyneth who met her gaze in anger but shrugged and returned to her needlework.

Aislinn smiled wryly. “Very well, then I will do it since none of you seem willing.”

She bent over Gavin’s arm and busied herself as Miderd drew closer to help bending over her husband’s arm with Aislinn as the stump was bared and cleansed.

Gwyneth’s voice came sharp with malice. “ ’Tis well known, of course, the ways of soldiers on the field. Does not the very mention of a battle bring kind memories to your heart, dear Aislinn? The Normans, so proud and great, sampling each wench that meets their fancy. I wonder how the vanquished woman finds that brave caress.”

The words awoke a pain deep within Aislinn and she felt the anguish rise and seize her bosom until she fought to breathe. The cruelty it took to stir those memories was stunning to her mind. She inhaled deeply and found Miderd’s eyes locked to her own. She saw compassion for her own distress mirrored there and knew a flow of kindness from the woman’s kindred heart.

“I would to God that even you, good Gwyneth,” she sighed slowly, “should never feel that moment.”

Gwyneth sat back in her chair, not feeling particularly victorious and Haylan turned her back to warm her hands before the fire and reflect upon the words that had passed her ears.

Aislinn let the torment of Gwyneth’s words ebb and finally rose, finished with her task, and moved to stand by Bolsgar’s chair.

“My lord, you have just heard it said of men that they are fickle. How think you on this matter? Are you so, sire? And is Wulfgar, do you think?”

Bolsgar grunted. “ ’Tis apparent my daughter knows little of men, never having had one herself.” He took Aislinn’s slim fingers into his grasp in consolation. “Even as a lad Wulfgar was true to the things he knew, his horse, his hawk—me.” The old eyes grew moist before he averted his gaze. “Yea, he was steadfast.”

“But you know nothing of his women,” Gwyneth hastily pointed out.

Bolsgar shrugged. “ ’Tis true he has sworn in the past he holds no great love for them, but Wulfgar is much like the iron wolf who haunts the fields of war and needs no softness of this world, but in his heart there burns a need for love so strong he can do naught else but deny it.”

“Beasts of darkness!” Gwyneth snapped. “My own father who has of yesterday lost his home and land now approves of this match between my bastard brother and this Saxon—”

“Gwyneth!” Bolsgar bellowed. “Shut thy mouth or I will see it shut for you.”

“Well, ‘tis true!” Gwyneth cried angrily. “You would mate this Saxon whore to him with a solemn oath of marriage.”

Haylan’s mouth dropped open and she stared agog at Aislinn. “You are not his lady?” she asked before a frown from Miderd made her bite her tongue.

“Indeed she is not!” Gwyneth replied indignantly. “She has bedded one Norman and now seeks to bind my brother to her.”

Bolsgar shot up from his chair and for the first time in her life Gwyneth cringed from him in fear. Aislinn stood with set jaw and clenched hands, not willing to ease her fury for fear that trembling would possess her. Bolsgar pushed his face close to his daughter’s and sneered:

“You mindless nag! How many times must you cut with your blade of jealousy?”

Haylan cleared her throat and tried to set aside the wrath of the old man by honing his mind to some other matter. “My Lord Wulfgar wars much. Is he oft injured? The scar—”

Aislinn’s head snapped up and she stared at Haylan with wide eyes, for her only thought was of Wulfgar’s most recent wound that only she and Sweyn knew of and now perhaps this young widow.

“I have only been curious—,” Haylan said weakly as she felt the heated faces turned to her. Even Gwyneth’s jaw had slackened and Bolsgar’s brow had darkened considerably as he turned away from his daughter to face her.

“Curious?” Gwyneth saw Aislinn’s surprise and wondered what had drawn it. “What plagues your thoughts to such extent, Mistress Haylan?”

“The scar upon your brother’s cheek, that is all,” Haylan replied gingerly, shrugging her shoulders. “I desired only to know how it came there.”

Gwyneth sat back in her chair, quickly glancing toward her father who had fallen back in his. A frown grew upon his brows like a gathering storm, and his hands tightened on the arms of his chair until the muscles of his forearms stood out like ropes beneath the flesh.

“And you were distressed by that unsightly scar?” Gwyneth ventured.

“Distressed? Oh nay!” Haylan replied. “He has a most handsome face.”

She looked at Aislinn now as an equal, thinking that if she had not been too hasty leaving Wulfgar that night she might have had him in her will. At least she would have had as much claim upon him as this vixen.

“It came by way of an accident when we were children,” Gwyneth began somewhat cautiously.

“Accident?” Bolsgar bellowed again. “Do you lie, daughter? Nay, ‘twas no accident. ‘Twas done with malice.”

“Father,” Gwyneth cajoled, now striving to set aside his rage. “ ’Tis past and best forgot.”

“Forgot? Nay, never. I remember clearly.”

Gwyneth tightened her lips in vexation. “Then tell them quickly how it came about if you must. Tell them how in a temper at learning he was bastard you struck the boy with a falconing glove, laying open his cheek.”

With difficulty Bolsgar rose to his feet and stood trembling with wrath as he stared down at his daughter. His eyes swept Haylan briefly before returning to Gwyneth. Aislinn’s own surprise had subsided. Bolsgar seemed so furious now that she had no doubt he was deeply ashamed yet in his own stubborn way could not cede his actions wrong.

“There is no need for me to speak, daughter,” he bit out, “as you have told them enough yourself.”