Chapter 11.

The winter had seemed long, but now suddenly the winds were blowing from the south. The snows upon the ground began to turn to mush, the drifts pitting first, then melting down into nothing more than icy puddles of dirty water. The earth began to thaw and warm. Everywhere there was mud. Soft and oozing in the sunshine, freezing again in the dark of night. The tips of the tree branches, tight dark nubbins throughout the winter, now began to grow lighter and burgeon with newly revived life. In a meadow by the river the lambs, born so improvidently during the harshest part of winter, gamboled within sight of their mothers, scampering and bouncing with each other amid the faint new green of the longer days.

Early each morning as the sun began to rise, and again each afternoon when the chill of evening began to creep into the air, Master Gilleet would climb up the western hills to the castle site. He would push his staff into the ground to check the gradual retreat of the frost from the bosom of Mother Earth. Already in these final days of the late winter the serfs belonging to Aelfleah had begun to build the barracks that would house those coming to erect the castle. It was still too early to till the fields and plant.

One week Dagda and Master Gilleet went off to Hereford, to Worcester, and finally to Gloucester seeking laborers, diggers, and carpenters. They returned successful each time. Aelfleah's population doubled, and then tripled as the barracks filled with workers. The stonemasons had already arrived from Normandy. A blacksmith's forge was constructed on the site for Osweald, the manor smith, so that he would not have to travel back and forth with his work between his own smithy and the castle site.

Egbert the bailiff sought among the cottages for new kitchen helpers. He took younger girls than he normally might have for simpler tasks, and promoted other servants earlier than he usually did. They would need everyone they could get. The responsibility of feeding the vast army of workers needed to build the castle was a great one.

Weorth, the miller, added two young boys to his staff, and ground extra grain daily into flour. He couldn't remember ever having worked so hard. Aelfleah had always been a quiet, peaceful place. His responsibilities, inherited from his father who had once been Aelfleah's miller, had always been minimal. Now he worked from dawn to dusk falling into his bed so exhausted that his young second wife complained bitterly that he was neglecting her.

Byrd, the manor baker, a little wiry man whose mother had been a wild Welsh hill girl, ruled the ovens with a twinkling eye and a merry jest for everyone. The extra work was no burden for him for he loved being busy. Covered in flour up to his elbows he worked kneading the dough into loaves, whisking them to the ovens to bake and out again when they were done. Then his helpers would trek the bread up the hill to the building site where the camp cooks were busy over their fires, and glad to see Byrd the baker's loaves which were tasty and filling.

Then almost overnight the winter was gone, and the land began to quickly green. Master Gilleet and his staff began to design the castle while the moat was being dug. It was not to be a large castle for Josselin de Combourg was not a great lord. Its main purpose was one of defensive vigilance although there would be comfortable living quarters designed within the castle for the lord and his family. Although Mairin resisted the idea of eventually leaving the manor house the thought of living again within a castle was intriguing. It seemed a long time since Landerneau.

The king returned to Normandy in March taking with him those whose presence might encourage rebellion. Namely young Edgar the Atheling, Waltheof, the Earl of Northampton and Huntingdon, and the brothers Earls Edwin and Morkar. He left behind him as co-regents his brother, Bishop Odo, and his seneschal, William FitzOsbern, whom he newly created Earl of Hereford. The bishop would rule southeast England as far west as Winchester. FitzOsbern would oversee the Midlands from the marches of Wales to Norwich. Northumbria was to be overseen by a thegn named Copsi who had been a relative of the G.o.dwin family. The southwest of England had not yet submitted to William, and was still loyal to the dead Harold G.o.dwinson whose mother and sister were residing in Exeter.

As the days grew longer and warmer, Aelfleah's peasants were able to work the fields which were planted in barley, oats, wheat, and rye. The orchard flowered profusely in a copious haze of pinkish-white blossoms. Within The Forest the streams ran swiftly, and completely free of ice. Taking her basket into the woods Mairin found marvelous large mushrooms which she brought home, instructing the cook to cook them with oil, pepper, and some of their precious salt. This way the mushrooms could not give rise to the illnesses that encouraged black bile.

Then it was summer. The grain stood tall and began to ripen. A messenger from the north sheltered with them one evening and told them that Copsi had been murdered by Oswulf, the son of the ex-earl of Bernicia, in a feud that dated back between G.o.dwin's family and the old Northumbrian ruling house. Then came a summons to Josselin to come with his men and aid the king's brother. Eustace of Boulogne, a Picard, had seized Dover Castle, and was holding it against Bishop Odo.

Mairin burst into tears. "No!" she said. "You cannot leave me now. I am with child!"

Josselin's face almost split itself with a grin. Lifting her up he swung her about with a joyous whoop. "That's wonderful, enchantress! When? Are you certain? Why didn't you tell me before?" He set her down, kissing her nose as he did so.

"I am only just sure," she sniffed. "You won't go, will you?"

"Of course I must go. Bishop Odo is the king's brother, and I am the king's man as well as his friend, Mairin. Certainly I will go, but it is unlikely that I will be gone for long. You have your mother, and you are safe here at Aelfleah. When is my son to be born?"

"Your son? It could very well be a daughter, my lord! Our child will be born in February." She gave a small chuckle. "I should give birth at the same time the ewes are lambing." She snuggled against his chest, rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his tunic.

He enclosed her within the circle of his embrace, and his lips brushed against a soft tendril of her hair that had escaped her coif. "If it is a son we shall work to make a daughter. If you give me a daughter, then we will endeavor to make a son the next time."

She thought about his words in the weeks that followed, and she found them comforting. She wanted a large family, and she knew that he did also. They had talked about it often in the dark of many nights while snuggling together within their curtained bed. The part of her that was coolly logical knew that if they were to prosper in this new England then Josselin must be not only loyal, but he must be outstandingly so. It was within the king's power to create a peerage, and if Josselin could earn such an honor by his usefulness and his loyalty, then there would be more for their children.

There would be the castle for their eldest son, and father's t.i.tle. Aelfleah would go to their second son. The third son could have Landerneau if she could get it back. She had never considered reclaiming her inheritance in Brittany, but the child growing within her had suddenly made her mindful of the importance of a man having possessions. She remembered the king's surprise when she had said she didn't want Landerneau. She knew he thought her foolish. The child now growing beneath her heart made her think differently.

Her father's estate was rightfully hers, and Blanche's daughter had not the legal right to it. It was true her half-sister was as much a victim as she herself was. Of late she had for the first time in her life seriously considered what her half-sister might be like. Putting her mind to it she had seen a sweet-faced child with their father's russet hair. Each time she concentrated upon it she saw the child kneeling in prayer, and once the little girl appeared to her in the garb of a religious. It came to Mairin that the unknown child who was her half-sister wanted to be a nun.

Concerned that she might be overruling her instinct with her personal desires, she asked Dagda to cast the rune stones for her. Each time the answer was the same. The fate of Mairin's half-sister was with the church, not in marriage. Her conscience clear, she resolved to regain her lands in Brittany. She would see her half-sister had a decent dowry so she might enter the convent of her choice, but Landerneau belonged to her! It was her inheritance for her children!

Having settled in her mind the three estates upon her three nonexistent sons, Mairin decided her fourth son would be for the church, as well as one daughter. The other girls would be married off most advantageously due to their father's position, wealth, power, and his place in the king's favor. It was a wonderful daydream with which she entertained herself during the long and lonely nights Josselin was away aiding the king's brother in his efforts to retake Dover Castle from the troublesome Eustace.

The long summer days slipped by pleasantly. At the castle site the surveyors under the guidance of Master Gilleet had marked off the locations of the castle walls and its towers. The digging of the foundation was well under way. The quarrymen had opened up an excellent location where they might quarry stone for the project. The stonecutters were already shaping the large blocks of dark gray rock that were to be used.

The grain was being harvested. The hay had been cut, and was drying on its racks in the fields. The cattle and the sheep in the meadows were fat with good grazing, and in the orchards the trees were bent almost in two with a b.u.mper crop of fruit. Looking upon it all Mairin felt the quiet contrast between this bountiful and beautiful summer, and the year prior when they had all been awaiting the outcome of Harold G.o.dwinson's rash behavior.

Then one day a peddler arrived at Aelfleah, and told them of a rising on the border just over the hills by a thegn named Eadric the Wild. That night in Dagda's company Mairin ascended the hill to the castle site. Together they watched until dark when they could clearly spot the campfires of the rebel forces.

"Their direction should bring them straight to Aelfleah," noted Dagda grimly. "Rebels like that usually destroy everything in their path. Why are they doing this? Who the h.e.l.l would they put on the throne in place of King William? There is no one else!"

"How long will it take them to reach us?" Mairin asked, sounding calmer than she actually felt. For the first time in memory Aelfleah was in danger. She had married Josselin because the manor needed a lord to protect it. Now that they were at risk, where was he? At Dover protecting the king's rights! It would be up to her to see that Aelfleah was defended.

"Two days, three at the most," he answered. "It depends upon how much they enjoy their work."

"We must harvest everything we can, and hide it, Dagda. If they burn the fields, the manor people, not to mention all the workers we have here for the castle, will go hungry this winter. d.a.m.n! If Josselin were here we might fight them off, but he has taken all of his men with him. We are left with nothing but serfs. We might escape the carnage but for this d.a.m.ned castle site! Did I not warn him about that? It's like a beacon drawing our enemies onward!"

"The castle is a good idea, and it is necessary," he said bluntly, and she looked at him, surprised. "Listen to me, my lady Mairin. England's days of innocence are gone. So are the days when this manor lay secreted and unnoticed in our hidden valley. The castle will protect Aelfleah, and few would dare to attack us if it already stood upon these heights." He took her by the arm to steady her. "Come! We have little time in which to prepare for our guests."

They stopped at the workman's quarters where Dagda quickly and thoroughly explained to all the a.s.sembled men the danger which would soon be upon them. Then he turned to Mairin, giving her the floor, for as the lady of the manor with her husband away, she was the only authority figure they had.

"I want no unnecessary blood spilled," she told them. "Each of you master craftsmen is to gather his men together, and I will see you hidden so that no harm comes to you. When Eadric and his rebels come they will find nothing to threaten them. You will stay hidden until the danger is past. We value the skills that each of you possesses far too much to endanger any of your lives." Then Mairin repeated her speech in French so that the stonemasons might also understand her, and know their position. "I will also need your help tomorrow in the fields," she continued. "If we are to save our harvest in so short a time I will need every available pair of hands. If they destroy the crops, how will I feed you all this winter?" She smiled sweetly at them, and there was not a man within the room who did not silently vow to follow her into h.e.l.l and back if necessary.

As soon as the faint gray light of morning began to brighten the skies the next day, all the people of Aelfleah streamed from their homes, and went into the fields to harvest the grain that had not already been cut. Most of the workers were city men who knew little about farming, but, their very survival at stake, the castle workmen learned quickly from the serfs who were happy for even inexperienced hands to help them. Both Mairin and Eada worked beside their people encouraging them onward.

Egbert the bailiff saw that the castle, horses, and sheep belonging to the manor were herded into groups, and driven off to more hidden locations within The Forest. There had been no serious danger to Aelfleah since her grandfather's time, but Egbert recalled the old man's tales of how the Northmen had once swept inland up the Wye and Severn rivers, where they then anch.o.r.ed their longboats and ravaged the surrounding countryside. So impressed was he by these remembrances that he even managed to find hiding places for the poultry and the doves in the dovecote.

The castle workmen could give Mairin only a day and a half 's labor before she sent them to hiding places in the stone quarry and deep within The Forest. The young women belonging to the manor who were not yet married were sent off to a nearby convent for safety's sake. Mairin sought to avoid the rape of the women that might easily occur given the temptation of pretty faces.

Shortly after dawn on the third day Eadric the Wild and his men stormed the western hills, firing the barracks and the workshops at the castle site as they came. The manor gates were open to Eadric for Mairin had no intention of even attempting a resistance. Indeed she greeted him at the door to the house, gowned in a soothing blue, her glorious red-gold hair braided, a demure white veil upon her head.

"Given the reputation which precedes you, my lord Eadric, I cannot welcome you to Aelfleah, but neither do I deny you entrance," Mairin said boldly.

Eadric the Wild, a big man with a thick beard and shoulder-length brown hair, looked down from his horse upon the beautiful woman. He felt to remain seated upon the big beast which added to his height would give him an advantage. Mairin's cold words, however, disabused him of any notions of frightening her. He took a moment to appraise her, and staring back at him Mairin thought she had never seen such icy blue eyes.

"You are Mairin of Aelfleah?" he growled at her as he slid from his mount.

"I am."

"What are you building upon the crest of the hill?"

"A castle," she answered him.

"Why?" The cold eyes betrayed no emotion, not even the curiosity his words proclaimed.

"To keep the king's peace," she said.

"Which king?" he snarled.

"There is only one king of England. William."

"The usurper? You build a castle for the usurper?"

"William of Normandy is England's rightfully anointed and crowned king, my lord Eadric."

"The crown belongs to Edgar the Atheling, lady."

"Edgar the Atheling is a child," said Mairin patiently, as if she herself were speaking to a child and not a man. "He could not hold England against invaders. He would be easy prey to those of his own countrymen seeking to rule through him. Besides, our late King Edward chose William of Normandy as his heir. King Edward knew we needed a man of strength."

"So William the b.a.s.t.a.r.d claims."

"The pope upheld his claim!" retorted Mairin.

"Bah! A foreigner who knows nothing of England, or of her people!"

"A people who want peace," Mairin snapped back, "but they do not seem to find it when men like you pillage the land!"

"I fight for our freedom, woman!" roared Eadric.

"You fight for what you can personally gain," she replied angrily. "Why else do you rob, and kill, and ravage the countryside? Why have you come here? Aelfleah is a small and isolated manor with little to give."

Though Saxon women were noted for their bluntness of speech, and even encouraged to it by their families, Eadric was taken aback by Mairin's fierce words which touched too close to the truth to satisfy him. She made him very uncomfortable. His reputation as a warrior usually cowed the people with whom he dealt. What was worse was that she spoke before his own men. He would find himself losing his authority if he did not regain control of the situation.

Drawing himself to his full height he thundered at her, "Get into the house, woman, and shut your mouth!"

Mairin smiled mockingly and she swept him an equally taunting curtsy. "Do come into my hall, my lord Eadric. I will give orders that your men be fed, and their horses watered, or would they prefer to pillage themselves?" Then turning she walked back into the house.

"Woman, you try my patience," he muttered following after her, his several lieutenants at his heels.

Eadric the Wild gloried in his terrible reputation. He would have been discomfited to see the wicked grin upon his antagonist's face for he did not frighten Mairin in the least. Indeed she had already decided that he was nothing more than a bully and a blowhard. Like a wounded animal he would be dangerous if and when he was cornered, but she had decided he would be no serious danger to Aelfleah if handled properly. He was a Saxon of the old school, and he had simply not yet come to terms with Harold's defeat. He would continue to fight uselessly until he either accepted the inevitable or was killed. Eadric was a wealthy man, but he was not a man to concern himself with the comforts that life could offer. He lived as the Saxons had lived a hundred years earlier, in a large noisy hall filled with retainers and animals, both of whom scrabbled for bones and other leavings amongst the rushes. He was taken aback by Aelfleah's small neat hall which was divided from its entry by a beautiful carved screen. The rushes upon the polished floors were clean for they were changed weekly. The hall had a pleasant air to it due to the sweet herbs that were scattered amid the rushes. In the large fireplace great logs burned warming the room nicely, and seated by the fire was a handsome woman who arose to greet them.

"This is my mother, the lady Eada, widow of Aldwine Athelsbeorn," said Mairin.

"Lady," said Eadric the Wild, "I am honored to meet the wife of so ill.u.s.trious a man as Aldwine Athelsbeorn."

"Thank you, my lord," said Eada, and then she returned to her seat.

"Bring wine," Mairin commanded her servants, and waved Eadric to another seat by the fire.

The wine was brought, and pa.s.sed among the visitors, and then Eadric said, "One of my lieutenants is an old friend of yours, Mairin of Aelfleah. He tells me that you are promised to him."

"I am promised to no one," said Mairin, "and besides I am-" but before she might finish, a bearded blond man came forward.

"Do you not recognize me, Mairin?"

She peered closely at the man, then her face grew dark with anger. "Eric Longsword!"

"Aye! I have come back to claim you, Mairin! I have pledged my fealty to Eadric and Edgar the Atheling, and when you are my wife we shall hold Aelfleah for them. I have so sworn it!"

"Indeed," replied Mairin scornfully, "have you, Eric Longsword? Did I not warn you that I would not marry you? That has not changed. Why would I promise myself to a traitor for that is what you are. A traitor who fought with Tostig and Harold Hardraade against England! I would not wed with you if you were the last man on earth!"

"The choice is not yours, Mairin. Aelfleah is strategically placed, and we need it. It is your duty as a loyal Englishwoman to wed with the man who can hold this manor for England's rightful king."

"Which is precisely what I have done, Eric Longsword! I was married the day before Christmas last to Josselin de Combourg, a loyal knight of England's rightful king, William. I am my lord's loving and faithful wife, and I will bear his child next winter," she finished triumphantly, one hand placed over her belly for emphasis. Then her face darkened again with anger, and she said in an icy voice, "How dare you claim a betrothal with me, and how dare you lead these outlaws here to my lands to wreak havoc! Never did my family give you the slightest hope of a marriage between us. Nor did I! I had not thought you a man of such strong imagination, Eric Longsword."

"If you are married then I shall kill your husband, Mairin," he said coolly. "I mean to have you. I have never denied my pa.s.sion for you. From the first day I saw you in Constantinople I wanted you. My feelings have not changed. You need a strong man who can teach you how to bend to a husband's will. I am that man. William will be driven from England, and the Atheling will rule as he should. You will be my wife with my babe in your belly. As for the brat you now carry, if it lives it can be given away."

Mairin stared at Eric Longsword shocked, but then she burst out laughing. Turning to Eadric she said, "This man is stark raving mad, my lord. You had best lock him away lest he be a harm to himself, or others dear to you. As for me I shall bear his company for hospitality's sake, but if he comes near me again I will have my retainers fling him from my hall out into the barnyard where such an animal belongs!"

Eadric looked shrewdly at Mairin, and asked, "Where were you married?"

"In London by Odo, the bishop of Bayeux, and in the presence of the king, my mother, William FitzOsbern, William de Warenne, the Count of Eu, Robert de Beaumont, and Hugh de Montfort."

"Where is your husband now, Mairin of Aelfleah? Did he flee at our coming?"

"Nay, my lord. He is with Bishop Odo seeking to retake Dover Castle from the traitorous Picard, Eustace of Boulogne. It was his duty to support the king's brother."

Eadric the Wild nodded his understanding. Then arising he said, "There is nothing for us here. We move on! Order the men to burn the fields and drive off the livestock. We will have something for our trouble!"

Eadric quickly discovered that the manor fields contained nothing but stubble, and that the livestock, even the poultry, had seemingly disappeared. It suddenly occurred to him that although they had burned a large barracks and workshop complex on the castle site, there were no workmen there. Nor were they to be found, nor was there evidence of the manor's livestock, or poultry, or pretty girls. Into his cold eyes crept something akin to admiration, and he chuckled although the sound held no mirth. "It would do absolutely no good to ask, would it?" he said.

"No, my lord, it would not," she answered softly.

"Then I shall not, Mairin of Aelfleah, for you have bested me once too often before my men. Still you shall not escape me entirely unscathed. Burn the village and the church," he ordered.

"What about the manor house, my lord Eadric?" demanded Eric Longsword viciously.

Eadric saw the panic leap into her eyes. It pleased him, but what pleased him more was that she went down upon her knees to him pleading loudly that he spare her home. "I fight for England," he said loudly and loftily. "I do not make war upon helpless women and babes. I will spare your house, Mairin of Aelfleah."

"Oh, thank you, my lord!" she cried, brushing an imaginary tear from her eye. She was tempted to ask him: if he didn't wage war on women and children, why was he burning the manor village? Discretion fortunately overruled her tongue.

He turned from her, but not before she had seen his lips quirk with amus.e.m.e.nt. She would have been a formidable opponent had she been a man, he thought. She planned her battle well, and knew when to retreat to cover her losses. He felt little satisfaction as he rode from Aelfleah.

Behind him the manor peasants managed to save the church, but for the roof, although the entire village was destroyed. Still as they picked through the rubble of their homes that afternoon there were certain items that were salvageable. Mairin promised them that their homes would be rebuilt as quickly as possible. The castle workmen returned from their hiding places, and were immediately pressed into rebuilding the village. This time the cottages raised would be of stone, but for their thatched roofs, so that should the village ever be fired again it would be easier to rebuild.

Within a month the cottages were done. The new barracks and workshops once more stood upon the hill. As the castle workmen had helped Aelfleah's people to save their harvest, so Aelfleah's people had aided the castle's workmen to rebuild. The manor quickly settled back to its normal routine. The grain brought from its hiding place was threshed, and stored away in dry places to be ground into flour only as needed, for flour did not keep long once ground. The apples in the orchard were ready for harvest, and the cider was being pressed as Josselin de Combourg returned home to his wife and his lands.

Mairin was loath to discuss her defense of Aelfleah, but Eada was not. "Aldwine would have been so proud of her," the older woman bubbled. "She managed to unite everyone. She saved the entire harvest, and all the livestock. Not a woman was raped, nor a man killed, nor any child carried off! 'Tis true we lost the village, my son, but it is already rebuilt, and this time of stone, but for the roofs. No man could have defended Aelfleah and its people any better. As for that cheeky Eric Longsword, she sent him packing once and for all! Why, the nerve of him telling Eadric that he was betrothed to my daughter!"

"Mother!" Mairin flushed.

"Eric Longsword?" Josselin's attention was suddenly engaged. Mairin's defense of Aelfleah had not surprised him, although her cleverness at getting in the crop and hiding the workmen had astounded him, but Eric Longsword? "Who is Eric Longsword?" he asked.

"A fool!" snapped Mairin.

"His father was a thegn in the north, loyal to Tostig," said Eada. "He served in the Varangian Guard in Byzantium where we first met him. He has always been taken with Mairin, and tried to court her after Basil died, but she would have none of him. He dared to tell Eadric that Mairin was to be his wife, and that he was to gain control of Aelfleah. To such end he swore fealty to Eadric and the Atheling. Mairin corrected him quickly enough, and Eadric realized that Eric Longsword was but bragging to gain influence."

"I will kill him," said Josselin calmly.

"You will stay here and protect us, my lord!" said Mairin sharply. "I am not well with this child I carry, and I can take no more excitement!"

Josselin looked at Eada. "What is it?" he demanded.

Eada shook her head. "She has been staining blood ever since Eadric came. She may lose the child, and I would not be surprised for she labored in the fields to get the harvest in like any common peasant."

"You labored beside me, mother, and in the village too when we aided our people to haul thatch."