Page 89 of Rogue Knight
Just as they finished, Emma felt a breeze as the fire flickered. She turned to the mouth of the cave where her tall, proud father loomed, a Northumbrian warrior on either side of him, their hands on the hilts of their swords. With his outstretched hand, her father stilled their further movement, as his eyes scanned the occupants of the cave.
Sir Alain and Sir Mathieu stood and drew their swords.
“Nay,” said Geoffroi, gesturing them to sit. “Maerleswein, come join us.”
Emma walked to her father, placing her hands on his shoulders and reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Father, ’twas good you came. After tomorrow, I will be gone and these people will be with me. I would have left you a message, of course.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed on Geoffroi. “Is this the Norman’s doing?”
“And mine,” she said softly. “I have made my choice, as have the others. We are for Talisand. Come, sit by the fire. Share our mead. We still have a little.”
He stepped into the cave, signaling his men to wait.
Sigga brought all three of their visitors a cup of the honey wine. “There is stew if you are hungry.”
With a look at his men, her father nodded at the servant. “Aye, if you have enough to share, Sigga, we would eat.”
When her father was seated next to her, eating his stew, she asked, “Will you not come to Talisand, Father, to see me wed?”
Her father shot a menacing glance at Geoffroi. From the other side of the fire, Geoffroi and his men stared back. “You would accept his offer of marriage when Cospatric has approached me asking for your hand?”
“Aye, I have accepted him. I love him, Father. He is a good and honorable man.”
Her father’s gaze bored into Geoffroi as the two warriors did battle with their eyes. Her father must have seen the triumph in Geoffroi’s face for, after a time, he said, “I see.”
“Will you not come with us?” She tried once more.
“Nay, I’m for Scotland. The price on my head is too high for me to stay in England. I’ll not be back, Daughter.”
She leaned her head on his broad shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. There was great affection between them, but her future lay with her Norman knight. “At least stay till morning when I can say a proper goodbye.”
“Aye, we will stay till first light.”
Her father and his two men slept at the mouth of the cave, their horses just outside the opening. She was certain they slept little, listening for wolves.
In the morning, he and his warriors took their leave, Emma and the twins waved goodbye as the men mounted their horses. Would she ever see him again?
Geoffroi reached his arm across her back and pulled her close. “He will be all right, Emma. Maerleswein is a survivor. King Malcolm will be glad to have such a man in his court. Mayhap he will even see Steinar, Lady Serena’s brother.”
“I told Father to ask about him,” Emma said. “Mayhap we will hear of them at Talisand.”
“Serena will be as anxious for news as you. Scotland is nay so far that messengers do not travel to and from Malcolm’s court.”
His words brought her comfort. But when her father and his men were out of sight, and the twins ran back into the cave, with a deep sigh, she turned into Geoffroi’s arms and let the tears fall.
Soon after, they were mounted on the horses and some sat in the carts. In addition to the horses Geoffroi and the two other knights rode, they had brought with them three more. Artur, Jack and Sker rode but the knights led them as they were unused to being on a horse. The women, save for Emma, and the babe Merewyn, rode in the carts.
It frequently rained as they traveled over the hills and through the dales, leaving the horses to slog through the mud. Once the carts became stuck, slowing their progress until they were freed. The travelers huddled under their cloaks and did not complain, counting themselves fortunate to have survived when so many did not.
A sennight later they arrived in the Lune River valley. Geoffroi brought them to a halt at the top of a rise.
“I want you to see Talisand from here, Emma,” he said.
The rain had stopped and the sun, hanging low in the sky, cast its golden rays onto the demesne before them. Ahead of her, Emma could see a river, curving through the green countryside. Though not as wide as the Ouse, it was still a grand sight.
In front of the river stood a Norman castle with its square, wooden tower on a motte high above all. Somehow, knowing it was part of Geoffroi’s beloved Talisand, it did not seem so brooding and formidable. Below it was a large bailey surrounded by a palisade fence. From where she sat atop Thyra, she could see into the bailey. There were many buildings.
Emma could hardly believe all she saw.This will be my home.
