Page 56 of Rogue Knight
Pulling rein in front of Emma’s house, he and Alain slid to the ground. Their horses’ coats were soaked with sweat and lather from the hard ride. “Can you stay with the horses?” he asked.
“Aye.” Alain accepted the reins Geoff handed him.
Geoff stormed to the door, preparing to knock, when it opened.
“My lady is upstairs packing, sir,” said Artur.
“’Tis well she does. The fire is headed this way.”
“Are the castles burning?” the servant asked with a look of concern.
“Nay, ’tis the homes around them but the fire has spread.” Geoff glanced up the stairs, anxious to see her, to assure himself she was safe and had a place to go. “Artur, I must speak with your mistress. Can you help Sir Alain with the horses? We ran them hard.”
“Aye, I will take care of them.”
The servant left and Geoff raced up the stairs.
In her chamber he found Emma scurrying around, shoving things into a tapestry bag. The hound came to greet him, wagging its tail, unaware of the danger that had all of York on the run.
Emma whirled around and her eyes lit up. “Geoffroi!” She ran into his arms and, for a moment, there was no fire, no threat, only the comfort he drew from knowing she was safe. Inhaling her fresh woman’s scent above the smell of smoke that permeated his clothing, he felt the tension in her body. Looking up at him, she said, “I was terrified to think the fire might be coming from the castle. That you might be in danger.”
“Nay, my love, ’tis homes burning, torched to prevent their wood from being used to fill the moat. A witless idea. Now the whole city is threatened.”
She pulled back from his arms, terror in her eyes. “I must finish packing. We are leaving.”
“Where are the young ones?”
“With Inga. They are helping her to pack.” She reached for some clothing on the bed and stuffed it into her bag.
“Where will you go?” he asked, already knowing where he wanted her to go. Though taking her to the castle had its own risks.
She reached for some jewelry, the gold glimmering in the dim light, and dropped a necklace into a small velvet bag. “In truth, I know not. I just want to be certain we are free of the fire. If need be, we can stay in the fields. There are those who will shelter us.”
“Will you come to the castle? The wind blows away from it. You would be safe there.”
She hesitated, her blue-green eyes speaking of her distress. “Nay. I would rather not be surrounded by so many of your knights. And Inga will not return there again. Besides, Feigr is on his way, bringing friends who will flee with us.”
Geoff did not want to leave her but he knew he must. “I cannot stay but I will come tomorrow. Where will you be?”
“If the fire is out and my house still stands, I will be here. Otherwise, I will be on the other side of the River Foss, among the crofts to the north.”
Geoff had seen the cultivated fields to the north and east of the River Foss and remembered the cottages that dotted the countryside. “We can take you there. Alain is with me.”
“Nay, there will be too many of us. I have Thyra and she can carry what we cannot.”
He had always known she had courage. Now, intent on helping the others, she calmly accepted that she must flee her home. “All right, but please take care, Emma. And hurry.” Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her. It took all of his resolve to pull away. “I will come tomorrow or the next day. Keep the hound close.”
Worry clouded her eyes as she stared up at him. “I will.”
He patted the hound’s head as he departed. Geoff felt certain that his life was bound up with Emma’s. Somehow they had to be together, no matter the fire, no matter the Danes.
As he and Alain rode back to the castle, the shouts of the people fleeing the onrushing flames echoed all around them. Not a few of them threw curses at “the Norman swine”.
***
Two days later, Maerleswein stood on the deck of the longship rolling beneath his feet, his eyes on the waters of the River Ouse as they sailed toward York. It was the same ship on which he had sailed to Denmark and Scotland, the same ship he had sailed to meet the Danes at the mouth of the Humber.
Turning his head, he glimpsed Osbjorn and his nephews, Harald and Cnut, proudly standing on the deck of their dragon ship, sailing beside him, the square sail taut with the wind. The black raven on a red banner flying atop their ship’s mast was the symbol of the victory they believed would soon be theirs. Behind the two ships were hundreds more.
