Gentle Warrior

Chapter Six

Guyton, the bailiff in charge of the entire manor, had been slain during the attack, as had Angus, the reeve, a first tenant in charge of cultivation of the lord's land. And there were others missing, unaccounted for, Elizabeth knew. New appointments had to be made, and soon, for Elizabeth could all but feel the chaos and confusion in the atmosphere.

Although her husband was in charge of all that transpired, Elizabeth knew it was also her responsibility to help in any way she could. Her mother had ruled with her father, at his side, and often remarked that it was her lot in life to ease the burden of leadership. Elizabeth could do no less.

The first thing she would do was what she had promised her husband. She searched out and found

Sara and placed her in charge of the arrangements for dinner. She felt confident that she could trust Sara to see that her orders were carried out, and when the servant had repeated each instruction back to her mistress, Elizabeth was content that all would go as planned.

"The fare will be meager by Belwain's standards, Sara. There would be sufficient quantities of shoulder of wild boar with pheasant pasties and pigeon pie, but no delicacies such as roasted peacocks or swans, nor poultry either. "Make sure that there is more than enough sweetmeats for dessert, and have the servants include cloves and ginger after that."

"We'll need plenty of ale, my lady, for the sweetmeats and the spices will make the men ravenously thirsty."

"That is the plan, Sara. Tell the servants that no cup is to be left unfilled. Enough ale will muddle their minds and loosen their tongues."

Sara nodded vigorously. "I see your plan, mistress, and I tell you I am greatly relieved. At first I could not understand how that… man could be allowed to sit at your father's table. Why, I thought it was sacrilege you encouraged," she added in a whisper.

"There is reason." Elizabeth found herself comforting the old woman. "You must continue to have faith in me, Sara. Do not doubt my motives. Trust me." Familiar words, Elizabeth thought. Easily asked but quite difficult to give.

Elizabeth patted the woman on the arm and left the room. Her destination was the courtyard, where her husband was holding court. The villeins, those who worked for her father but had some rights of their own to the land, and the cotters, those who usually had no rights to any property but served the lord faithfully, had all been informed that Geoffrey would hear their disputes and offer decisions. Elizabeth was anxious to observe her husband, to see how he questioned, to have some insight on how he reached his decisions.

Geoffrey's back was to Elizabeth when she started down the steps. A long wooden table had been placed a little distance in front of the steps, and her husband sat in the same high-back chair that her father had used. Roger stood behind Geoffrey, his hand resting almost absentmindedly on the hilt of his sword at his side. There was a crowd gathered, all men, split into two sides in front of the table, with a cleared space in the middle. A lone man, Elizabeth recognized him as one of the leatherworkers, stood in the center, his head bowed.

The squire gestured to Elizabeth and pointed to a stool next to him. Elizabeth walked over to where the lad stood. "You are to sit here," the squire informed Elizabeth.

"My husband's orders?" Elizabeth asked in a whisper so as not to interrupt the proceedings.

The squire nodded, pleased that his mistress understood.

Elizabeth turned and stared at the back of her husband's head, wilting him to look over his shoulder at her. So I also sit behind you, husband? Stand behind you, sit behind you, is that your way of thinking? she asked herself. Well, I think not, Baron Geoffrey. You have much to learn, husband mine, and the lessons will begin now.

Elizabeth smiled, more to herself than the grinning squire, and then lifted the wooden stool. The squire could do no more than gape as his mistress carried the stool to the table. Roger was watching her, Elizabeth realized, and she glanced up to see his expression. He gave her a small shake of his head, hoping she would understand that what she was about was not acceptable, but Elizabeth only increased her smile, nodding that she understood well enough. Roger's expression turned from a frown to a bland, almost bored expression it must have taken years to perfect, but his new mistress wasn't the least bit fooled. She could see the laughter in his eyes.

Oh, but she hoped Geoffrey wouldn't make a scene! Why, she didn't even know if he was inclined to beat his wife. And though she had heard that he had a fierce temper, she had yet to see it.

Well, it was too late for second thoughts now. She took a calming breath and placed the stool next to her husband. Smoothing her gown, she sat down and folded her hands demurely in her lap. Though she wished more than anything to chance a glimpse at her husband's expression, she did not. With total concentration she kept her gaze straight ahead and waited.

Geoffrey was in the middle of a sentence when his wife appeared at his side. He lost his train of thought as he watched her out of the corner of his eye take her place next to him. Her audacity stunned him into temporary speechlessness.

Elizabeth felt his anger blow over her like a hot wind and she braced herself for the explosion. Had she misjudged him so completely? she asked herself. She thought he would never make a scene in front of his men. Never mind, she told herself, what will be cannot be stopped. But if he does rant and rave, and if I am cast out and back inside, I will return to his side, again and again, until he must tie me in chains to keep me behind him.

Geoffrey refused to acknowledge his wife sitting beside him. He had no wish to cause a commotion, to give those watching the impression that his wife did not fear him, that she was disobedient. Later, he thought with a scowl, later he would see to her punishment.

Elizabeth felt the threat of immediate danger pass. The wind cooled the goosebumps on her skin. Odd, she thought, but she hadn't realized how nervous she had become. Why, she was almost frightened! Almost, she reminded herself.

It was hard not to smile, but Elizabeth did her best. It was not so very difficult training a new husband, not too difficult at all.

You have much to learn, Elizabeth, Geoffrey thought with irritation. He judged it would not be a difficult task, once his new wife understood his rules, his way of thinking. Not too difficult at all.

Geoffrey cleared his throat and tried to remember what he had been saying when the interruption occurred. "Where was I?" he muttered over his shoulder to Roger. The vassal bent down and said a few words into his lord's ear but stopped when Geoffrey nodded.

"The charge against you is grave indeed. Did you understand that it is forbidden to hunt in your lord's forest?"

"I understood the rules, Baron," the leatherworker replied. "I have been a loyal freeman to Thomas Montwright for many years."

Several men in the crowd nodded their agreement. Elizabeth knew the man standing before her husband and wondered what charge had been brought against him. He was called Mendel, she recalled, and he possessed a gentle nature. She could not imagine Mendel guilty of any crime, grave or small. Elizabeth fought the urge to ask her husband who had brought what charges against the man, but decided to wait. Being throttled in front of a crowd did not appeal to her.

"The charge is hunting within the lord's forest," Geoffrey restated, "and while it is my understanding that Lord Thomas, rest his soul, allowed the hunting of some animals, the deer was off limits to all but himself. Yet you were seen dragging the dead carcass."

"I do not deny it," Mendel answered. "I did kill the animal, but there was good reason."

Elizabeth almost nodded her encouragement but caught herself in time. It was extremely difficult to stay an impartial witness to the proceedings, and she only then realized the weight her husband carried. Justice was a heavy burden.

"State your reason," Geoffrey ordered.

"The deer was injured and in pain," Mendel replied. "The front right leg was broken. I do not know how it happened, but when I came upon it, I could see the agony. I made a clean kill to stop the pain and was bringing the carcass when I was intercepted by your soldiers. That is the truth as I know it," Mendel said.

"Is there one here who can give testimony to this man's good faith?"

"Aye, my lord," called out a voice. The crowd parted, and Maynard, the stable master, walked to the center.

"State your case," Geoffrey said.

"I have known Mendel many years, my lord, and have always found him to be honest and truthful."

"Roger? Did you check the animal as I instructed?" Geoffrey asked.

"Aye, Baron. The bone was broken," he said.

"Tell me this, Mendel. Why were you in the forest? To hunt rabbits, perchance?" he asked, his tone mild.

"Nay, my lord. I have paid a pence and one-half for the privilege of keeping two pigs within the area, and I was but checking on them."

"Uhmmm," Geoffrey grumbled. He stared at the man before him for a long minute while the crowd shuffled from foot to foot.

"I find you innocent, Mendel."

The crowd was pleased. A cheer rolled through the crowd and Elizabeth smiled her pleasure.

Elizabeth found herself content to sit beside her husband for the next two hours and listen as one after another came before their lord to state their grievances.

By the time court was done, Elizabeth had a better understanding of how her husband's mind worked. His questions were always direct and to the point; yet when two men told opposite stories, Geoffrey was quick to find the truth. Seeing him as judge made her feel more confident that he would be able to find and punish all those responsible for her family's deaths.

The crowd began to disperse, and Elizabeth thought it wise to excuse herself before her husband turned his attention to her. She had no wish to push him too far with this first lesson in just where her place was.

She was, unfortunately, not quite quick enough. Her husband's hand rested on her arm like the weight of three trebuchets. "Because Belwain and his men are about, I have today allowed your bold behavior." He squeezed her arm and added, "I have made an exception, wife. Do you understand?"

"I hear you, my lord, though I do not know why you are so displeased. My mother always sat beside my father. It is the way of things," she said, looking at him with innocence.

"It is not the way of things," her husband answered. His voice had risen in volume and the scar on his cheek grew a starker white against his tanned skin, a dead giveaway, Elizabeth had learned quickly, that he was indeed angry. He applied more pressure on her arm, willing her to lose her calm expression.

"It is not?" Elizabeth asked with as much innocent surprise as she could muster. She placed her hand gently on top of his. "I have only my parents' example to follow, my lord."

Geoffrey released the hold on her arm and pulled his hand free. "It is not proper to touch as this in public, wife." He sighed when she did not agree with him, knew she did not from the look on her face. Why, she seemed fairly amazed with his statement. "This is not the time for a discussion, Elizabeth," he decided aloud.

"Tonight I will take the time to instruct you in your duties and your place."

"I look forward to the lesson," Elizabeth replied, trying hard to keep the irritation out of her voice. And tonight I will instruct you, my lord, she thought.

Geoffrey considered his wife, glimpsed her anger, and was surprised by it. Didn't she realize how patient he was being with her? He guessed she did not, and felt great frustration. She had been through a great deal and he knew her emotions were strained to the limit of her endurance. For that reason he would continue to be patient.

Where had he received his ideas? Elizabeth asked herself. Not to touch in public? To show no affection except at night, in the privacy of their bedroom? Ridiculous, she scoffed to herself. There was nothing wrong with husband greeting wife with a kiss, or wife placing a chaste kiss upon her husband's cheek when first they met during the day. Who had raised him? A pack of wolves perhaps? She knew his parents were now dead, Roger had told her that, but what were they like with each other when her husband was a little boy? Did they never show any affection for each other? Perhaps there was no love between them, she decided. But then, there is no love between Geoffrey and myself, yet. It was too soon for love, wasn't it? And wasn't the touching, the showing of consideration for each other, a necessary beginning for true and lasting love to grow? Oh, what a confusion! Elizabeth 's head felt like it was spinning with all the rules her husband kept hinting at. Am I the one so amiss in my thinking? she asked herself. Is it wrong to wish for laughter and shared secrets, an occasional embrace to show a specialness for one's spouse? A longing for these very things brought loneliness and sadness. Without another word to her husband, Elizabeth stood up and took her leave, walking slowly back into the hall. Sara immediately intercepted her, and Elizabeth thankfully put her confusing thoughts concerning her husband and his behavior aside. There was work to be done.

An hour later, Elizabeth felt very much like a limp rag. It appeared to her that no order could be undertaken until Elizabeth herself said the words, sometimes again and again until the servants understood just what she wanted. Most of the servants were untrained in the tasks she requested, and Elizabeth kept her patience. They were doing the best that they could.

"If Gerty breaks another cup we will not have enough for the drinks, Sara," Elizabeth muttered when she heard a third crash.

Sara might have answered but Elizabeth couldn't hear her over the wail coming from outside. She recognized the voice and knew little Thomas was terribly upset about something. Just as she was about to see what the problem was, the doors burst open and the little boy came flying into the great room. Roger was right on his heels, trying to grab the wolfhounds, who were busy nudging the youngster in his shoulder blades, propelling him along.

"They think you are playing, Thomas." Elizabeth found she had to yell over his screams to be heard. She grabbed Thor, the bigger of the two animals, by the fur on the nape of his neck, while she watched Roger lunge for and miss the other, falling to the floor with a loud clatter. She almost fell down herself when her brother tackled the back of her knees and clung to her skirts. "Stop that screaming," Elizabeth yelled, "or I will give you something to yell about."

"Amen to that," Roger muttered, struggling to stand up. It was a difficult task, for Garth, a most affectionate dog, was standing with front paws on the knight's chest to give him better advantage while he licked at the scowl on Roger's face.

"What is happening here?" Elizabeth and Roger both looked up and saw Geoffrey standing in the doorway. Even little Thomas peeked out from behind

Elizabeth 's back to look at the lord. Elizabeth decided that her husband, legs braced apart and hands on hips, looked quite exasperated. But then, so was she. Another crash resounded in the background, and Elizabeth felt like grinding her teeth in reaction.

"Come here, Thomas," Geoffrey commanded. His voice was harsh, and Elizabeth immediately wanted to shield her small brother from her husband's anger. She did not think that Geoffrey would harm the lad, but she worried that his hard words would upset her sensitive brother immensely.

Geoffrey pulled the dog off the knight with one sure motion. "Sit," he told the animal, and praise be, the dog decided to obey. "I am waiting, boy," Geoffrey told her brother, folding his arms across his chest.

Couldn't he use a little gentleness in his tone when addressing such a small child? Elizabeth asked herself. She frowned at her husband, hoping he would see her displeasure and soften his commands.

Little Thomas saw that both dogs had quieted, and making a wide circle around the dog his sister held, he ran to Geoffrey.

"Was that you I heard all the way from the walls, bellowing like an infant?" he asked the boy.

His reference to a baby had the desired effect. Little Thomas quit crying and wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his tunic. "I do not like them," he stammered. "They want to bite my arms off."

Elizabeth could not keep silent any longer. "That is nonsense, Thomas," she snapped. "See how their tails wag? They only do that when they are happy."

"I will keep the dogs chained a while longer, Thomas," Geoffrey said. "But from now on, it will be your duty to take them their food and see that they have enough water. And if I hear that you have not done this duty, you will be punished. Do you understand me?"

"I will do it, my lord," Thomas answered. "And I won't be afraid. If the dogs are tied, they cannot bite me."

Geoffrey let out a sigh and nodded. "No, they cannot bite you, and after you have seen to their food, they will grow to rely on you."

"Mistress?" Sara called from behind. "The new vat of ale has been spilled. It was an accident."

Elizabeth closed her eyes against Sara's excuse for yet another accident. "See that it is cleaned up, Sara," was her only reply.

"I will chain the dogs," Roger interrupted. "Lad, you come with me."

The call that someone was approaching the gates stopped the knight's action. He looked at Geoffrey and then grabbed Thomas, slinging him up and over his shoulder.

"We have company," Geoffrey announced. He was looking at his wife as he spoke. "Your grandfather."

His calmly stated news lifted the fatigue and frustration from Elizabeth. Joy welled up and she all but hugged her husband. "He is truly here?" she asked in a breathless voice, smoothing her hair in an unconscious gesture.

Geoffrey watched the excitement in his wife with a hint of a smile. He was pleased that she was happy with his news, and decided that he liked it considerably when she smiled. Soon, he thought to himself, she will realize her good fortune, and she will smile like that at me. Not that it truly mattered, if she smiled or not. Still, it would make for an easier arrangement. He did not ask himself why that was so, why he liked to see her content, for he considered it insignificant. Happy or not, she belonged to him. That was the way of things. "You are pleased?" he found himself asking Elizabeth.

"Aye, my lord, most pleased," Elizabeth answered, clasping her hands. She started to hurry past him then, intent on greeting her grandfather, but Geoffrey's hand stayed her.

"We will greet him together," he announced.

Elizabeth realized that that was the proper way and nodded her agreement. Geoffrey let go of her arm and walked beside her to the top of the steps leading to the courtyard.

The gates opened with her husband's order, and her grandfather, riding a white charger Elizabeth had not seen before, came galloping into the courtyard. He was dressed, as he always was, in gray tunic and hose, with the fur of some wild animal's skin draped as a cape over his shoulders and around his feet. Another band of fur covered most of his white-blond hair, tilting over one blue eye like a patch. He stood proud and tall, this radical grandfather of hers.

If Geoffrey was amazed by the figure dismounting before him, he hid his feelings well. Elizabeth glanced up at him, a smile on her face.

Her grandfather was an extremely tall man with a gait as enormous as his build. As bold as ever, he smacked the back of his horse and sent him flying away and then turned to walk toward Elizabeth.

"I came as soon as your word reached me," her grandfather began in his powerful voice. "You are the baron here?" he asked.

"I am," Geoffrey acknowledged.

The giant nodded while he studied the man standing next to his granddaughter. When he was through with his appraisal, he nodded again and turned his attention to Elizabeth. "You have no greeting for your grandfather?" he asked in a soft voice.

He was watching her closely, saw the fatigue in her eyes, the lines of worry.

Elizabeth needed no further urging. Nor did she turn to her husband for approval. She ran down the steps and threw herself into her grandfather's open arms, clasping her hands behind his neck. "Thank God you have come," she whispered into his ear as he lifted her high into the air.

"We will talk later, child," her grandfather whispered back. In a louder voice he said, "You are well, little Viking?" using his pet name for her.

"I am no longer little Viking, Grandfather, but a Baroness. Put me down and I will introduce you to my husband," she said. She glanced over at Geoffrey, read his scowl, and added, for his benefit and his pride, "My husband is a most patient man when my behavior becomes improper."

Although he knew the man holding his wife was her grandfather, he still found himself irritated that another touched her.

The grandfather placed Elizabeth back on the ground, gave her another enthusiastic hug, and then turned to Geoffrey.

Looking at the warrior, he said, "Granddaughter, was the marriage forced?" There was a hint of a threat in his voice, but Geoffrey remained composed. He too turned to his wife and waited her response. Her words would determine his action.

"No, Grandfather, it was not forced." She was looking at her husband as she spoke, her expression serious. "I am most content."

Geoffrey's shoulders seemed to relax a bit to Elizabeth 's way of thinking, though he still did not smile. But then he rarely smiled, Elizabeth reminded herself. Why, coaching a bit of lightheartedness into his expression was as difficult as trying to force the sun to shine during a rainstorm. It was simply beyond her power.

Her grandfather's voice interrupted her wonderings. "Then, why the hurry, I'm asking. I would have liked to see you wed," he said.

"There was so much chaos that my husband thought it best to hurry the vows. And it would not have been proper to celebrate the event after what took place here, Grandfather."

"Still another reason to wait," her grandfather argued. He still hadn't taken his gaze from the tall warrior, and Elizabeth noted that the friendliness was gone from his tone. He antagonizes, Elizabeth realized as she watched him fold his arms across his chest and continue to stare at her husband. What was his game, his purpose? she asked herself, growing worried.

"It was my decision," Geoffrey answered. His tone matched her grandfather's and Elizabeth thought the two resembled hostile opponents now. "Do not dare to question it."

Geoffrey well knew he was being tested, though he did not understand the reasoning. Regardless of the motive, it was time he showed this new challenger who was in charge.

"You do not kneel before me," Geoffrey said. "You have failed to give me your pledge, though you know I am baron here." His hand settled on the hilt of his sword, a silent message that he was prepared to battle if necessary.

"I am an outcast," her grandfather answered. "You would consider my pledge honorable? Binding?"

Geoffrey nodded. "I would."

The scowl left her grandfather's face as he considered his next move. "Know you all the facts, my lord? I am Saxon, full blood, and once a noble. Still you ask my fealty? I have no lands to protect."

"I would have your loyalty or your life. The decision is yours."

Elizabeth could not understand what was happening between the two men. Fear swept over her as she watched the mental battle going on between her husband and her grandfather. His life? He had demanded his fealty or his life? No, she wanted to scream, do not ask this. He is his own man, loyal to no one but his family. Family! Aye, she realized, that was the key to this frightening game the two played. Was Geoffrey demanding acceptance by asking the pledge? And if so, why?

Geoffrey witnessed his wife's distress and hoped that she would not interfere. It was imperative that he have her grandfather's trust and loyalty, and though he had not voiced his reasons to his wife, he expected her to keep her silence.

"Go to your husband." The quiet instruction was heard by Geoffrey.

Elizabeth felt torn in half between the two. She wanted the time to explain her grandfather to her husband, and to explain her husband to her grandfather, but there was no time. She let go of her grandfather's embrace and walked to stand on the step, beside her husband.

Silence filled the area as the two giants considered each other. It was a most difficult moment for Elizabeth. She did not know what she would do if her grandfather refused to bend to her husband's will, did not know if her husband would truly carry out his threat to do battle…

The game ended. With absolute ease, her grandfather flipped off his cap and knelt on one knee before her husband. He placed his right hand over his heart and said in a clear and forceful voice, "I, Elslow Kent Hampton, give you my loyalty and vow on this day nare to betray you."

It was an emotional moment for Elizabeth. She had never seen her grandfather so intent. His word was his bond, and all he had to give. It was his honor, his soul. Did her husband sense this about her grandfather? she wondered. No, he could not, for he barely knew him, she reminded herself. He could have no idea that her grandfather was as fiercely loyal as she was.

"Stand," Geoffrey said. All harshness was gone from his voice and Elizabeth could tell he was pleased. Her husband walked down the steps and placed a hand on his new relative's shoulder. "There is much I would discuss with you, and before night arrives, now that I have your loyalty."

Geoffrey was not prepared for the mighty whack he received on his shoulder, nor the deep bellow of laughter that filled his ears, making them ring. "You will have my time, my lord, for time is all I have to give. And there is much on my mind also… much I would like to ask you."

"So be it," Geoffrey responded.

"You would have fought for my pledge?" the grandfather asked, chuckling.

"Aye, and won too," Geoffrey replied, smiling.

"Do not be too sure of yourself. I've still strength left in these old bones. I'm thinking I'd have the advantage of the wisdom age gives." His eyes sparkled at Geoffrey's reaction.

The lord began to laugh. "Not a chance," he replied. "I have the strength of younger bones, old man, and would have cut you down in one quick blow."

"Ha! We will never know for sure, now, will we?" her grandfather teased. He threw his arm around Geoffrey just as if they had been boyhood friends and changed the subject before her husband could answer. "Know you the treasure you have in your new wife?" he asked. And then, before Geoffrey could speak, he said, "I have a terrible thirst for a cool drink, Baron. Share a toast with me to your marriage."

Geoffrey was chuckling as the two men walked up the steps and disappeared behind the doors. Her grandfather was saying something in a low voice and then her husband's deep laughter reached her ears. He was actually laughing! Elizabeth looked to the sky and saw that the sun was shining. Amazing, she thought. There wasn't a single rain cloud in sight!

It was nearly the dinner hour, and still Geoffrey continued in deep conversation with Elizabeth 's grandfather. They sat at the long table, across from each other, with cups of ale before them. Twice she tried to join them in their discussion but both times the talk would stop and both men would simply stare at her. They made it very obvious that they did not wish her present.

She knew the talk concerned Belwain and the "other" that Geoffrey had hinted at and decided that they were planning their course of action. God, give me the strength to see this charade through, to look at Belwain and not plunge my knife into his heart.

Elizabeth grew increasingly restless. She sought solitude and went for a walk, and although she could not bring herself to visit the graves, she headed in that direction. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow to the horizon. In the distance, on the knoll, she could see the wooden crosses anointing the freshly turned earth, marking the area where her family was buried.

"Granddaughter?" Her grandfather's voice intruded and she turned and watched him make his way to her.

"I was this very minute wishing you were by my side," she said, smiling. "Grandfather, I am so very glad you are here." She grabbed his hand with both of hers and held it in a tight grip.

"You were going to the graves?" her grandfather asked.

"No," Elizabeth admitted. "I cannot say good-bye yet."

"And have you wept for your parents, your sisters?" he asked, his voice soft.

"No. Perhaps when it is done, when Belwain is punished-"

"Do not wait," her grandfather said, "cry for them now, before it becomes too bottled up inside you. It will tear at your insides then and make you a bitter woman. Your mother would not have wanted that."

Elizabeth considered his advice and nodded. "I will try, if it will please you, Grandfather."

"You always please me, Granddaughter. Don't you know that?"

Elizabeth smiled. What he said was true. He gave her his love without restrictions, without rules. And most important, he accepted her for what she was.

"You have a new life now, Elizabeth. Are you truly content with Geoffrey?" he asked.

"It is too soon to know that," Elizabeth replied. She let go of his hand and the two began to walk, side by side. "I try to follow my mother's example in playing the wife, but find it a most arduous task. Geoffrey is nothing like father. He is so hard… like steel. And he covers his emotions so that I am never quite sure what he is thinking. I do not think he is content with me but that too is too soon to tell."

"What makes you think him discontent?" her grandfather asked. "You have only been married one day," he said, trying not to smile.

"Almost two, Grandfather, but you are right, it is too soon to make such a judgment. Still there are his rules…" Elizabeth paused, gathering her thoughts. Was it disloyal to discuss her husband with her grandfather? she considered.

"Rules?" her grandfather asked, nudging her into a decision.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered. "Rules of how I should act, what I should do. I think he considers me illprepared to be his wife, and in truth, he is right. It is but a role I play and I do not know how long I can wear the mask of deceit."

"I do not understand," her grandfather said.

"I have not shown my temper once since meeting Geoffrey and have tried to act with great humility." She saw that her grandfather was about to laugh and frowned up at him. "I have been a gentle, obedient wife these past two days."

"The strain must be terrible," her grandfather said, chuckling. His tone grew serious but the twinkle remained in his eyes when he added, "I do see your problem. You wish to be meek but find it not in your character."

"Exactly." Elizabeth was pleased that her grandfather understood. "It is most difficult indeed. To keep my thoughts inside."

"Is it that you wish to be master here?" he teased,

"No, of course not!" Elizabeth was surprised by his question. "Please do not jest with me. I am most serious."

"Then what is it you wish?"

Elizabeth stopped walking and turned to her grandfather. "To be a good wife, to rule with my husband, to stand at his side."

"And you do not think this will come to pass?" her grandfather asked.

"Nay, I do not," Elizabeth answered, shaking her head for emphasis. "He would have me locked inside the walls, without a comment of my own, I fear. And when he discovers I have no talent with the needle, or with the household affairs, he will undoubtedly despair. Oh, but I wish I had spent more time with my mother. It will mean nothing to Geoffrey that I can hunt with the best of his men and bring down as many kills. Worse, when he sees me without my mask, I fear he will-"

"Why do you think he married you?"

"Because of my father, and his failure to help him in his time of need," Elizabeth responded. That was such an obvious conclusion she couldn't understand why her grandfather hadn't realized it.

"Think you he marries each time there is a situation like this?"

"Well, of course not, but this is the first time he has been called on to-"

" Elizabeth, you confuse yourself with your thoughts and conclusions. Your husband was not at fault for what happened here. The safety within these walls fell to your father. A trap was laid for him, and there wasn't any way that Geoffrey could have prevented what occurred." Her grandfather sounded a little exasperated and Elizabeth grew irritated.

"Then why do you think he married me?" she asked.

"I do not think that Geoffrey does anything he does not want to do. I think he wanted you for a wife."

"Because I was his responsibility," Elizabeth added. "He felt it was his duty." Elizabeth sighed and added, "Honor is the reason, he is an honorable man."

"I agree that he does not know you in full yet, but I believe he will be most pleased when you remove your 'mask' and be yourself. Do not try to imitate your mother. In time you will learn the duties of being a good wife, just as Geoffrey will learn how to be a good husband."

"Do you like him, Grandfather?" Elizabeth asked. His answer was important, as she valued his opinion. He was an astute judge of character, and not easily fooled. She hoped his reply would be favorable to Geoffrey, admitted that she wished him to admire her husband. Why, she couldn't explain.

"Yes, I do like him. He seems an honest man. He is much younger than the other barons of his stature, from what I was able to learn. And much favored by the king himself."

Elizabeth swelled with pride, as if it was she who was receiving the compliments. She nodded and said, "Roger hinted that he saved the king's life."

"I would believe it," her grandfather agreed. "He seems to possess many good qualities, Granddaughter."

"But there are faults too," Elizabeth said to counter the praise. She did not wish her grandfather to become overly impressed, to place her husband upon a pedestal. He was, after all, only a man. And pedestals could crumble. "He is very stubborn."

"And you are not?"

"No! I am a most agreeable person."

"Then you will have no problem adapting to your baron's rules?" her grandfather teased.

"I did not say that," Elizabeth replied, laughing at the way her words had been twisted. "Perhaps it will be easier if I ignore the rules completely. What say you to that?"

"He will not be so easily led, Elizabeth," her grandfather warned. "But there will be joy in the battle, I believe."

"Have you seen your grandson?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Aye, he was brought to me," her grandfather answered. "He did not recognize me and I felt like weeping like a woman when he did not."

Elizabeth could not imagine her grandfather weeping and shook her head. "You carry your grief inside you too, Grandfather. Why, in all these years, the only time I have seen you cry was when you bested my father and laughed so hard that tears rolled down your cheeks."

"I will miss them all," he said in a quiet tone.

"Even my father?" Elizabeth asked.

"Especially your father. I'll miss our battle with words, the jests we played on each other. He was a worthy opponent and a good husband to my daughter. She was happy."

"Yes, they were happy." Elizabeth nodded, feeling the sadness in her shadow.

"I have a heavy heart that little Thomas does not remember them. Heavy, indeed."

"But, Grandfather, he saw it happen. And it was too much for him," Elizabeth replied. "Geoffrey says in time he will remember, when his mind stops protecting him from the horror."

"We will find the ones who did this," her grandfather muttered. "They will all die."

"Did Geoffrey tell you his thoughts? I believe Belwain is the one responsible but he considers my uncle only a follower. He hints of another who would have equal gain."

"Aye, we talked and he shared his thoughts. He believes we must not rule out all the possibilities."

"And what do you think, Grandfather?"

"I am an old man and need time to think on this," her grandfather stalled.

"You only remember your age when it is convenient," Elizabeth replied.

"And you know me well," her grandfather answered. "Tell me this. Do you remember the stories about Hereward the Wake?"

"Only that when the battle for control of England was waged, it was Hereward who fought the longest."

"He was a powerful Saxon noble and held out the longest against the invading Normans. He fought near the fens around Ely."

"I have heard ballads sung in his praise," Elizabeth whispered, "though I do not think our king would be pleased if he heard them. The songs glorify his enemy. Why do you bring this up?" she asked, frowning. "What has Hereward the Wake to do with Montwright? There is a connection?"

"Perhaps," her grandfather said. "Hereward is long dead, but there are still his faithful followers. And more have recently joined their ranks, those who wish William removed from power and the return to the old ways. Geoffrey knows of this band of men and must consider that Montwright was attacked to cause havoc."

Elizabeth 's eyes widened while she considered what her grandfather said. "How do you know of this group of rebels?" she asked after a time.

"I was asked to join with them," her grandfather admitted. He watched Elizabeth closely, judging her reaction.

She was horrified. "It is treason you speak," she whispered. "Oh, but you would not-"

Her grandfather smiled and said, "No, I would not. It is not honorable, for I had already accepted William."

"Did you tell Geoffrey that you-"

"No, I did not mention that I was approached by one of their leaders, child. But I did tell him that they were a threat, to be careful. I feel caught in the middle of this struggle, Elizabeth. Some of the leaders are old men now, displaced and full of hatred for all they had to give up. I do not feel loyalty to them but I am not inclined to name them either."

Elizabeth took hold of her grandfather's hand again and squeezed it.

"Why do these rebels persist, Grandfather? William has been our king for many years now. Can they not accept him?"

"There have been several uprisings over the years, many in the first two years of William's rule, but nothing I fear on the scale that is soon to come. Greed is the motivation, I think. These men do not wish for a better way of life for all, only themselves. They make rash and foolish promises to all who will listen, even promising that when William has been dethroned, the danegeld will be done away with."

"But wasn't there a tax levied in the time before William?" Elizabeth asked. "Called by another name perhaps, but-"

"It is not significant, child. What matters is that they are all fools, these rebels, but with a deadly purpose."

"I am frightened for you, Grandfather. Will there be penalty for not joining with this band?" Elizabeth found herself wringing her hands and stopped herself.

"I do not know," he whispered. "Perhaps it is no coincidence that my only daughter and most of her family were murdered just days after I refused. I do not know," her grandfather said, "but as God is my witness, I will find the truth."

Both Elizabeth and her grandfather could hear the footsteps on the path behind him. They turned as one and saw that Roger was approaching.

"Roger comes," Elizabeth said. "Have you spoken with my husband's vassal yet? He is usually by my husband's side."

"I have met him," her grandfather answered. He said no more until Roger stood before them.

"The Baron wishes to speak to you," Roger said, addressing Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded and started down the path. Her grandfather did not follow and she turned, waiting for him. "Grandfather?"

"You go on, Elizabeth. I will visit the graves first. I would say good-bye to my daughter."

Elizabeth nodded, knew that he needed to be alone for a few minutes. She motioned Roger to her side and walked beside him back to the hall.

"Is it true that my husband saved the king's life?" she asked.

"Aye, and he was only a boy at the time," Roger said.

"Tell me, please," Elizabeth asked.

"There was poison in the wine that Geoffrey carried to William," he said. "Geoffrey knew this as he had seen the deed done by one of the nobles. As he approached William's place, he tripped and the wine spilled to the floor. William was angry over the clumsiness and was about to punish the lad when one of the dogs began licking the wine from the floor. Within seconds the dog went into fits and died. It was obvious to William that the wine was the reason. He made everyone save Geoffrey leave the hall and then questioned the boy. The plot was uncovered and the guilty punished."

"Why did he not just yell out what he had seen?" Elizabeth asked.

"He had only been a page in William's court a short time, but already knew not to speak unless asked. It was a rule he would not disobey."

"Aye, my husband seems to place great import on rules," Elizabeth said, smiling to herself.

"It is the way of things," Roger announced, borrowing his lord's phrase. "Without rules there would be chaos."

"But being rigid at all times," Elizabeth began, "seems most predictable. Surprises are sometimes a nice change from the daily hardships. Don't you think?"

Roger glanced over at his mistress and shook his head. "Surprises imply that one is not prepared. Geoffrey is always prepared."

"Therefore nothing can surprise him?" Elizabeth asked.

"Nothing."

"You make my husband sound most predictable, Roger."

"It is a compliment I give him."

Elizabeth did not agree that describing her husband as predictable and rigid was a compliment. Rigidity left little room for spontaneity. No, it was no compliment, she decided. In truth, it sounded quite dreary.

"And do all follow his rules, Roger?" she found herself asking.

Roger looked surprised by her question. "Of course," he said. "He would have it no other way. Nor would we! He is our lord, our leader."

"Do not frown so, Roger. I was not discrediting my husband or your loyalty. I merely wish to learn as much about my husband as I can."

Her explanation placated the knight and he relaxed his scowl.

She decided to change the subject and said, "Roger, I wish to thank you for your guard over my brother. I know you do this because my husband ordered it, but it must be a hardship and I-"

Roger coughed and Elizabeth guessed it was with embarrassment. "I do my duty," he muttered, "and would give my life to protect the boy."

Elizabeth smiled and knew that what he said was true. "My worry is lessened because you are in charge of him," she admitted. "Tonight-"

"He will be well guarded," Roger interrupted. "Have no fear concerning him."

"With you about, I have no fear. Thank you, Roger."

He was about to say that he did only what his lord ordered, but recognized the lie. He would protect the boy whether he was ordered to or not. Had not his new mistress helped him in his hour of need? When his lord lay near death and he had no notion as to what to do? And now he had an opportunity to lessen her fear. He could not refuse, nor did he wish to. She had captured his loyalty.

He nodded, indicating that he had heard the remark. Compliments make him feel awkward, Elizabeth decided. For that reason she did not smile or make a jest about his discomfort but changed the subject once again. "I fear my parents' room will be overrun with rats." She sighed and continued, "It must be made ready for my grandfather, and I am sure he has no liking for their company." Her chattering ceased when the only reply she could get from Roger was a recognizable grunt, telling her that he was not interested in mundane household matters, she surmised.

They reached the doors and Roger escorted her into the hall where her husband waited. There were several of Geoffrey's men in the room, all wearing serious expressions. There was tension in the air and Elizabeth knew the talk was concerned with grave matters.

Later she would excuse her behavior on her nerves, the tension that was building up inside her over the coming encounter with Belwain, but that was only half the truth, she admitted. He just looked so forceful standing there, so rigid. And those hands, those velvet hands he held in such iron fists upon his hips, as if he was just about to let go with some great wrath. Oh, he was predictable, this new husband of hers, she thought as she stood at the entrance and waited for his attention. Predictable indeed. And that, she later told herself, that was the other half of the reason. He was so sure of everyone's reactions, and yes, their behavior too. He was too sure!

She was through waiting. She knew he saw her out of the corner of his eye as he listened to what one of the knights was saying. She tried to listen too, but the distance was too great and the knight's voice too low.

When Geoffrey nodded to his vassal, Elizabeth took that as his dismissal and started across the hall. He turned to watch her, his expression well hidden, as usual. Could he read the determination in her eyes? She hoped not, and suddenly increased her pace until she was almost running. She threw herself into his arms. Geoffrey's reaction was instinctive; he placed his hands on her waist to steady her, a most surprised look on his face. She saw it and was immensely pleased. I am not so predictable, she wanted to shout, not so easily molded, husband.

She was not done. Before he could mask his reaction and stand her away from him, she clasped her hands behind his neck and stretched up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. "Good evening to you, my lord," she whispered. She let go when she felt his intake of breath but continued to smile. Taking a step back, she tried to assume what she hoped was a subservient and obedient stance, though she had no previous practice in the art of docility, and said, "You wished to speak with me?"

The lilt in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes… Geoffrey felt as if the sun had just penetrated the walls, amazed at the joy she brought into the room. He glanced around and saw the soldiers watching and smiling.

He could not allow it, of course, should not, this independent streak in her, this need to disobey his most explicit order to behave in public with absolute decorum. Why, she was openly defying him! Aye, that was the truth, he decided. She wished to irritate him, but for what purpose? What was her game?

Her manner told him she awaited his reaction. He was about to chastise her with hinted threats he would carry out later, to give her what she expected. The teasing challenge in her eyes stopped him. It is what she expects, he realized.

His expression had turned back to the mask and so Elizabeth was quite unprepared for what happened next. Without saying a word, Geoffrey placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him. Her reaction pleased him, and he favored her with a smile of his intent seconds before his mouth settled on hers. It was no gentle kiss, not from start to finish. His mouth opened on hers, demanding a response. She felt overwhelmed and quite embarrassed, felt his hands holding her hips against his in a most intimate way. She tried to pull away but could not. He was too strong.

How dare he? she demanded as she tried to push his tongue away with her own, how dare he maul her like this?

Her anger kept her from responding for a time, but then that too dissipated, and the warmness of remembrance, last night's passion, filled her. She found herself responding in spite of her intentions. And that was more humiliating than being kissed so passionately in front of an audience.

Geoffrey found her resistance fade and relaxed his hold. He continued to take his fill but stopped when he found himself more affected than he wished. The taste of her was intoxicating, he decided.

He kissed her once on the forehead after releasing her lips and chuckled out loud at the dazed expression on her face.

"You forget yourself," she whispered in a furious voice, pushing at his hands, which still lingered on her hips.

"I never forget myself," Geoffrey answered, grinning. "You have indicated by your embrace that you have a desire to be treated as a-"

It was as far as he got. Elizabeth 's foot came down on his with a gasp of outrage. "Whore?" she interrupted. "You were going to say whore? Well, you are very mistaken, Baron. I wish for affection and you give me a mauling."

He continued to smile and her temper exploded. "Fine, lord and master! I have learned this lesson. In future there will be no display of affection. None! I will give you the cold indifference you seem to wish."

It was a wonderful exit line, Elizabeth thought, but found that her husband disagreed. He wouldn't let go of her.

"I have heard of your temper, mistress," he said. His voice was gentle and soothing, the exact opposite of the anger she had thought her words would have caused. "Perhaps later we might find time to discuss this unladylike bellowing of yours. You are lucky that you find yourself married to such a mild-tempered husband."

She could only listen to his words with an open mouth, could not think of a single retort to his ridiculous analysis of his temperament.

And then he was gone, exited from the room, and only the echo of his deep laughter remained.

Elizabeth shook her head with despair. So much for predictable, she thought. Aye, she repeated. Predictable indeed!