Page 23 of Rogue Knight
He crossed the threshold with a long stride. “I thought they would never leave! I saw their horses and have been huddling in the freezing cold, waiting. Why were the French knights here? Did they threaten you?”
She kissed her father on the cheek. “Nay, they did not. ’Tis late and you look tired.” Letting her eyes rove over his tunic, stained with Norman blood, she added, “You will want to wash. Why not do that while I fetch you some mead and find you somewhere to sleep. Feigr is in your bed. Then I will tell you what has happened. Tomorrow you must tell me what you have seen. I’ve been worried.”
***
“Did you notice the things scattered about the chamber where I laid the sword-maker?” asked Alain when they had returned to the castle. Geoff had called for wine that he, Alain and Mathieu now shared.
The hall was nearly vacant, only a few knights and men-at-arms lingered over their wine, having finished their evening meal. The celebration of the day’s victory was largely over.
Geoff turned his goblet in his hands, the rich ruby color of the wine reminding him of the tunic she had worn.
“Yea, I saw them. ’Twould appear the servant, Artur, is not the only man living there.”
“Has the woman mentioned a husband?” Alain asked.
Geoff took a drink of his wine and set down his goblet, his gaze meeting Alain’s. “She told me she is three years widowed. But now I am forced to consider she harbors a man in her home, mayhap one of the rebels.”
“A lover?” questioned Alain.
Geoff felt a scowl building on his face.
“Or a brother,” suggested Mathieu. “He occupies a separate bedchamber, does he not?”
A brother!Geoff remembered what he’d seen in the room and his frown returned. Emma now shared a bed with Inga, mayhap to bring the girl comfort. “Whoever he is, he is a large man.”
“How do you know that?” asked Alain.
“The shoes he left behind were as long as mine.”
“What do you know of her?” asked Alain.
“In truth,” admitted Geoff, “very little. By her appearance, I would judge she is in some part Danish. Emma of Normandy, you will recall, married the Dane who became King of England.”
“Aye,” said Alain. “And this Emma must be a woman of some wealth to have such a fine home. ’Tis twice the size of any cottage and with many bedchambers.”
“And there is a stable, but ’tis not large,” added Mathieu.
“She is also a caring sort,” observed Geoff. “The children who live with her are not hers. She has obviously taken them in. And the girl, Inga, and the sword-maker are now under her care as well. ’Tis a house of the recovering and she the one who graciously cares for them out of her charity. Not many would help strangers with such open hands.”
“The lad I carried back from the forest, is he one of the children?” asked Alain.
Geoff pictured in his mind Ottar and his twin. “Yea, and you have yet to see his sister. She is a shy little angel.”
“Would William be angry if he knew we had helped the lady?” asked Mathieu.
“Aye, if she houses a rebel,” said Geoff.And if the king knew his knight would willingly help her no matter she did.
***
“What of the uprising, Father?” Emma sat on a stool at his feet by the hearth fire, her chin resting on her upturned hands, her elbows on her knees. They had just finished breaking their fast. Finna was with her brother, who was still recovering, and Inga was with Feigr. They had not been able to speak over the meal, but now they were alone and Emma was eager to hear his version of the events of the day before. “Tell me what happened.”
He sat back, running his hand through his long hair, bleached by the sun. He wore a fresh tunic of dark green, belted with fine leather to which was affixed his seax, a longer one than her own. In his hand was a goblet of mead.
“We were not ready,” he said with a sigh. “The retreat that followed the first encounter was disorderly, an embarrassment. Many were killed.” He took a drink of the honey wine.
She reached out a hand and touched his arm. “I am saddened for their families.” She remembered the bodies she had seen in the clearing and shuddered. Mayhap some who were killed in the fighting had been those she knew. “Have we lost so soon?”
“Nay, Daughter, ’tis not over.” He took another drink.
