Page 33 of Rogue Knight
Emma looked behind her to where she could just see the top of the square tower of the first Norman castle. The Bastard king and his army might be gone but his garrison of knights remained, soon to be spread between the old tower and the new castle that appeared to be nearly finished. Yet in those hated castles dwelled one who was a bright light.
True to his word, Sir Geoffroi had kept them supplied with meat even after the market had reopened and butchers once more cried their wares from their stalls. Besides the boon of food, she liked seeing him and his broad smile at her door more than she would admit. He made no demands upon her, though sometimes she sensed he longed for more than the tentative friendship that had grown between them. Did she, too, want more?
She had shared the meat he provided with her neighbors who complained that Normans had brought it. If her father had not been a leader of the rebels, a man all of York respected, they might have protested more loudly, but as it was, they were happy to have the meat and accepted her explanation she was about her father’s business. What could they say to the daughter of the noble Dane whom King Harold had asked to govern Northumbria after the victory at Stamford Bridge? Those days might be past, but the citizens of York had not forgotten either her father or Cospatric who had governed Northumbria for a brief time after her father.
Looking beyond Finna and Inga picking flowers to the land that was hers, Emma remembered the time after Halden’s death. Her father had helped her sell her husband’s two ships and the warehouse of goods on the Humber River. With the proceeds, he had persuaded Cospatric, who then had the authority as Earl of Northumbria, to sell to her some lands east of the River Ouse, which she now kept in flax and barley. It gave her great joy to see the churls tilling the fields, to watch the life-giving plants rise from the rich earth. But if the Normans remained, she would not continue to own the lands. The Norman king would take them to award to his followers.
Finna and Inga returned with a basket full of flowers and smiles on their faces, eager to show her their prize takings.
Shaking off her troublesome thoughts, Emma looked down at the yellow and white flowers filling the basket. “What wonderful flowers! They will bring spring to our table.”
Finna leaped at the idea. “I have a clay jar we could use to hold them!”
Emma looked beyond Inga and Finna and their flowers to see Ottar and Magnus with their heads together bent over something on the ground. “What is it that has captured Ottar’s attention?” she asked.
“Oh,” said Finna with a look of disgust, “’tis just some old frog.”
With a grin, Emma reminded her, “I recall a little girl who found frogs fascinating.”
Inga gave Finna a knowing grin. Likely Inga also remembered the time.
“That was when I was small,” insisted Finna. “I am ever so much bigger now.”
Emma and Inga both laughed at Finna’s pronouncement and the innocence in her large brown eyes.
“But not so big you have lost your fondness for berry tarts, hmm?” questioned Emma.
“I am very fond of berry tarts,” admitted Finna.
“Well, I know where to find some berries for Sigga to turn into tarts.”
“Tarts!” shouted Finna.
Ottar’s head lifted from where he was crouched. “Tarts?”
Emma and Inga shared a laugh at the twins’ enthusiasm for the sweet treats.
Once Ottar learned of their plans, he was persuaded to leave his frog for the promise of the sweet confection and a visit to see the lambs.
Emma guided her small family to the place where she had seen the red berries growing, Magnus bounding along beside them.
The day was once again golden.
***
“Sir Geoffroi!”
At the sound of the familiar voice, Geoff turned from where he was speaking with his men in the bailey to see William Malet striding toward him wearing a broad smile.
“You appear in a jovial mood, my lord sheriff.” Mayhap the last few weeks had given Malet reason to believe his position was secure notwithstanding William’s earlier displeasure. Geoff had to wonder why Malet would care. He was a nobleman with both title and lands in Normandy; he did not need more in England. But the king had given him manors and lands aplenty. Mayhap his new lands in England meant more to the sheriff than his holdings in Normandy.
“Indeed I am in a good mood. I have an invitation for you. Might you be persuaded to join me and a few others for the evening meal?”
Geoff grinned. “If the event involves food, Malet, you know I will be pleased to attend. I never miss a meal.”
“Aye, well, Gil is back from his expedition to Durham. ’Twas a failure as we all suspected ’twould be.”
Geoff thought of Alain’s prediction that Gilbert’s foray into the north would not go well. “’Twas likely lost from the beginning.”
