Page 43 of Rogue Knight
“What?”Why would Emma be running across the bailey?“Was anyone chasing her?”
“Nay, but she appeared fearful. Then I saw her again, a short while later, when she walked with her friend, Inga, to the gate. You were in the midst of sparring with Sir Alain or I would have fetched you. I did not see Inga enter, but they left together.”
Geoff could not imagine what the sword-maker’s daughter would be doing in the castle where Eude and his companions kept their pallets. He would have to ask Helise if Emma had come today about the garden. Or, better still, he would try and get away to pay Emma a visit and ask her himself.Why had she been afraid?
***
Emma was focused on her embroidery when she heard Feigr’s heavy steps as he trudged down the stairs after one of his many visits to see his daughter. Seeing Emma, he drew up a bench in front of her. “Why does my daughter weep so, my lady?”
He was pale and his face lined with worry. She rose and poured him some mead from the pitcher on the table, dreading the conversation to come. “Let us share some mead.”
She resumed her seat with her cup, wondering if he would be able to absorb the news. “Inga recovers, Feigr, but…”
“’Tis still that night she thinks of?” he interrupted. Without waiting for Emma’s answer, he gazed into the pale liquid he held in his hands. “I failed to protect her.” His eyes narrowed. “But no more! I am training with the warriors now. My own swords will be put to good use killing Normans.”
“Oh, Feigr, not you, too?”
“I must,” he insisted. “When that cur and his brutes came for Inga, had I known better how to wield my own weapons, I might have stopped them.”
“Or, mayhap you would have been killed, Feigr. The knights train from their youth. And think. Inga would have wept all the more had she lost you.”
For a moment he said nothing, just stared into his wine. “I would give anything to see the tears gone from my daughter’s face.”
Emma steeled herself for what she must say. “There is something I must tell you.” His eyes were the same gray as his daughter’s only more intense. She hoped he would understand. “Inga may not be able to tell you, but because you love her, you must know.”
“What?”
“Inga is with child.”
Feigr’s face froze in shock. Then he expelled an oath and beneath his breath his voice was fierce. “I will kill him!”
“Mayhap you will one day, but for now you must help Inga. She needs you. And this you must not speak of ever again: Inga sought to take her life.”
He pulled back, a look of shock on his face. Then his eyes narrowed as his face contorted in anger.
“I stopped her in time, Feigr, but she needs both of us to see her through this ordeal, to give her courage to bear the child.”
His anger faded and he slumped. “My poor daughter,” he mourned, shaking his head, his eyes revealing his grief. “What have they done to my Inga?”
“You must help her, Feigr. You must let her know you stand beside her. The child will be Inga’s, after all. And your grandchild.”
“’Twill be the Norman’s bastard!”
Emma vowed silently never to again use that word. “The babe will be an innocent, Feigr. I have told Inga I will help her to raise the child. We will be a family, Inga, Ottar, Finna and the child. You, too, Feigr. The child will know nothing but love, I promise.”
He looked up at her, his eyes full of unshed tears. “I thank you, my lady. Without you, Inga might be lost to me. Aye, for her sake, it will be as you say. I will let her know she has my love, no matter what comes. But I vow I will kill the Norman scum who did this to her.”
CHAPTER 9
It was early in June when Geoff sat in the great hall, breaking his fast, wondering which of the many tasks FitzOsbern had given him he should undertake first. He had wanted to go to Emma since that conversation with Mathieu, but with demands on his time from both Malet and FitzOsbern and the needs of his men, he had been unable to return to her in a sennight. But she was constantly in his thoughts. He longed to hold her, to kiss her. He knew she was well from his conversations with Helise Malet who had told him how pleased she was with Emma’s help with the new castle’s garden.
Helise, who ate next to him, leaned close and whispered, “I like Emma very much, Sir Geoffroi. She is ever so clever. She knows more than I do about growing things. With her advice, I have chosen well the plants for Gilbert’s garden.”
Her comments about Emma pleased him and he was delighted to realize Emma had made a friend. “The men will be happy to have the bounty from that garden.”
“Aye, and the castle’s cook will be pleased. Emma is such an unusual young woman, Sir Geoffroi. Did she lose her husband in the fighting? I dared not ask.”
He did not know which battle Malet’s wife spoke of, for there had been many since William had come to England. Mayhap she had in mind the battle in York that had taken place the year before. It had not lasted long, but even so, Northumbrians had died before the city surrendered to William. “Nay, she has been a widow longer than that.” In truth, he did not know much of her husband. If he had died at the hands of Norman knights in earlier battles, Geoff would not be the one to remind her, but knowing Emma she would have told him had that been the case.
