Rogue Knight (Medieval Warriors Book 2) (24 page)

The next day, Geoff was present amidst the blackened walls
of the Minster for the ceremony. The king, wearing crown and robes, sat in a
newly built chair, looking as regal as if he were in Westminster. To Geoff it
was a dim shadow of what might have been had Archbishop Ealdred lived and the
fire not destroyed the church. But despite the miserable setting, William was
announcing his rule in the North. It mattered little to him that he did so
among the ruins of a once proud cathedral.

The ceremony was brief. William had made his point and
clearly did not wish to linger among the ruins of the once beautiful edifice.
He and his men, Geoff among them, retired to the hall in the new square tower
to eat the Christmas feast.

The roast goose was served on silver plates that William’s
men had retrieved from Winchester along with the king’s crown and royal robes.
Geoff was certain the feast paled in comparison to what William would have
enjoyed in London, but it was not the food that was important to his sovereign.
It was the record history would make that it was King William who dined in York
this Christmas, not Edgar Ætheling or Swein of Denmark.

After the meal was finished and they had toasted the day,
William disbursed vast tracts of land to his loyal followers, for he was rich
with demesnes from those he had claimed as king. Geoff was among those rewarded.
He was relieved the lands were not in the wasteland that was now Yorkshire.
Instead, William awarded him lands abutting the great demesne of Talisand. His
friend, the Red Wolf, would be pleased, as was Geoff. But the price had been
high. Not just the decimation of Emma’s people, which he would regret forever,
but he had to wonder if the price had included his honor. He believed he had
turned from the brutality William inflicted on the North before it was too
late, and in doing so, had saved the lives of innocents, but he would always
wonder if he could have done more.

As he rode back to Emma’s, he longed for only two things:
Emma as his wife and peace. Both were very much in doubt. Emma might love him,
but would she come with him to Talisand? He already knew William was not
finished putting down rebellions and would demand Geoff’s sword arm.

* * *

Heated male voices woke Emma from sleep.

“She should come to Talisand where she will be safe.”
Geoffroi
.

“She should come with me to Scotland where King Malcolm
welcomes us.”
Father
.

“I have asked her to be my wife,” Geoffroi intoned.

“Should she wish to marry, my daughter has many suitors…
noble
ones.”

“I may be a younger son, but my family is of noble rank,”
Geoffroi protested.

“Your family is Norman French,” her father spit out. “We are
noble Danes. Well half, in any event,” he said in a softer tone. Emma knew he
was thinking of her mother. “Julianna was an English thegn’s daughter, but that
matters little to my point. Emma’s future lies outside of an England ruled by a
Norman king.”

Rising up on her elbow, she said, “Will the two of you stop
arguing about my future? I have a mind that is no longer so fevered I cannot
decide my own fate. Besides,” she fell back onto the pillows, “I have a family
to care for.”

“You can bring them to Talisand,” said Geoffroi, casting her
a glance from where he stood at the foot of her bed next to her father.

“They can come with you to Scotland,” her father declared,
his voice deep and commanding.

Pushing herself higher onto the pillows, she said, “I will
hear no more of this tonight. It is bad enough I am not with my family at
Christmas. I would at least have peace in my house.”

At her chiding, both men looked sheepish. She loved them
both. Yet they were sworn enemies. She was glad that tonight they warred only
with their tongues and not their swords.

“I will look in on your little family before I depart for
the Humber,” said her father. “None of you can remain in York.”

“On that, at least, we agree,” said Geoffroi.

“How were you able to leave the Humber, Father?”

“I was not with the Danes and their ships, but in the
marshes nearby. It was not difficult to slip away.” He gave Geoffroi a look
that said he thought little of the Normans who guarded the marshes. “Were it
not for Osbjorn’s poor planning, we would hold York still. King Swein would not
have made that error.”

Geoffroi ignored him and came to the side of her bed. “Emma,
I must go with the king when he leaves for Cheshire in a day or two. Duty
compels me. But he has promised to release me after that to go to Talisand
north of Cheshire. Send word and I will come for you. Tell me now you want me
to come and I will make plans.”

“She need send no word from Scotland,” her father insisted.
“I will make plans for her and her family. You need not come, Norman.”

* * *

Before Geoff left York with the king, he and Emma spent one
last night together. The memory of it warmed him even in the relentless cold of
winter as he, Alain and Mathieu rode southwest toward Cheshire. She had given
herself to him in a way that told him her love was sincere, but he was still
uncertain if she would come to Talisand. It was not as simple as just the two
of them. She served her family like he served his king. And then there was her
father…

He thought back to the night he had sat watching her sleep,
shocked when the rebel leader managed to sneak into her chamber.

“What do you do here, Norman?” the tall Dane demanded as he
had stepped from the shadows.

Startled, Geoff had turned, drawing his knife at the harsh,
unfamiliar voice, damning himself for leaving the chamber door ajar.
Recognizing the man as Emma’s father, his words had been curt. “I am taking
care of your daughter. She has been unwell, but recovers.” Geoff had sheathed
his knife and turned back to Emma. He did not worry her father would kill him.
Having spared Geoff’s life once at Emma’s request, it hardly seemed likely he
would take it now.

“Does William know you are here?” asked Maerleswein.

“Nay. And, for Emma’s sake, I would not tell him. He knows
only I sit by the side of a sick friend.”

“Where are the others? The twins?”

“Hiding in the woods, in a cave. When I discovered Emma, she
was there, sickly and suffering from fever and chills. I thought it best to
bring her here. You should know your guards gave their lives to protect her.”

“You killed them?” Maerleswein demanded.

“Nay, I killed the Normans who did.”

The tall Dane came closer to the bed and peered down on his
daughter. “I am grateful for what you have done for her.”

“I could do no less for the woman I love.”

Silence hung in the air. Maerleswein broke it. “Does my
daughter return this love you speak of?”

“She has spoken the words and there is much between us. I
have offered her marriage.”

And then began the conversation that had awakened Emma. He
had gone over that night in his mind many times. Maerleswein had been adamant
she should go with him to Scotland, where Earl Cospatric had again sought exile
even after William had restored his lands and title.

Now, as he turned Athos into the cold wind, heading toward
Cheshire, he wondered. Emma was loyal to her father, but would she follow him
to Scotland? Geoff could not be sure. She would do much for her family. Then,
too, when he had sought marriage, she had demurred. Had she only wanted him as
a lover? Was he too far below her? The thought did not sit comfortably on his
mind. Emma was not one to judge a man by his birth. Remembering their times
together in the meadow and in her bed, he did not believe she only wanted a
lover, for she had given more than her body. She had given of her heart.

But something held her back. She had not asked Geoff to come
for her when the king released him. Instead, worried about her family, she had
insisted he take her back to the cave, which he had done. When he had returned
to the castle, he found William giving instructions to his half-brother,
Robert, to deal with the rebels in York and the Danes on the Humber. Then the
king had turned to the captains of his army, ordering them to prepare to march
to Cheshire. When he finished his instructions to them, he turned to Geoff,
reminding him, “We expect you and your men to join us.”

* * *

Emma sat by the fire in the cave one early morning holding
Inga’s babe so the young mother could sleep. She gazed into the face of the
sweet child who, Emma was relieved to see, would one day look very much like
Inga.

Artur added another log to the fire as his wife, Sigga,
stood at the mouth of the cave, looking out. Winter lingered, but as Emma
looked into the eyes of Inga’s babe, her thoughts drifted to the spring that
would come. What would she do?

Though she had stubbornly resisted both her father’s and
Geoffroi’s plans for her, Emma’s heart longed to be with her knight, her
Gabriel who had ridden to her rescue so many times. An enemy who turned out to
be more than a friend. He was her lover. For three years, no man had touched
her woman’s heart. She decided that a woman did not always choose the man to
whom she gave her love. But if Emma had consciously chosen, she could have
chosen no better.

Whether she had realized it at the time, she saw it clearly
now. Even before the first time they had lain together, she had loved him. War
had drawn them together and then it had torn them apart. Having received his
forgiveness for her part in the rebellion, there was only one place she wanted
to be—with Geoffroi. But she could not go to Talisand alone. She would not
abandon the family she loved.  If she were to go, she wanted the twins, Inga,
Artur and Sigga and Jack and Martha to come with her. Until she knew they would
agree, she could make no promise, for she would not leave them, not even for
love of her knight.

When her father had said goodbye before returning to the
Humber, she had not encouraged him to expect her to go to Scotland in the spring.
He argued Cospatric’s case as the suitor he wanted for her. She had confessed
that she liked the earl.

“But I do not love him, Father.”

“Love can grow between two who share respect,” he had said,
“I will call on you before I leave. In time, you will come to see what I want
for you is best. Be careful, Emma. The woods are full of Normans.”

She waved goodbye as he faded into the protection of the
woods he knew so well to join his Northumbrian rebels. Having led the failed
rebellion, once he joined Cospatric in Scotland, she did not think he would
ever return to England.

A cold wind whistled into the cave, making the fire flutter
wildly. Sigga wrapped her cloak tightly around her and left the mouth of the
cave to sit by Emma. Now that she was no longer fevered, Emma felt the cold as
the others did, shivering whenever she left the comfort of the fire.

Both Geoffroi and her father had counseled against taking
her family to her home in York, for it was too easy a target should the Normans
again search the town. Before he left for Cheshire, Geoffroi had told them
York’s stores of food not taken into the castle to be consumed by William’s
knights had been destroyed. The Norman king had also ordered the burning of
farming tools, cottages and everything else in Yorkshire. Even the fields had
been salted so the land could not be farmed in the spring. Never again would
she stand on the hillside outside of York’s walls to watch Ottar and Finna play
among the flowers. Never again would she watch with pleasure the ripening
grain.

Sigga raised her head, looking toward the mouth of the cave.
“Magnus has returned but without the usual hare.”

Emma looked up from where she sat holding Merewyn, now
asleep in her arms. The weary hound walked to her side and dropped to the ground.
She patted his head. “’Tis all right, we have enough food for today.”

“I will hunt,” offered Artur from where he tended the fire.

“If you go,” counseled Emma, “take Jack. The woods are not
free of Normans. Even more dangerous than the knights are the people who must
be starving by now, willing to kill you for any game you bring down.”

Artur darted a glance at Thyra, Emma’s mare standing just
inside the cave. They had talked about the horse. Emma refused to think of
Thyra as food, but many would and she was certain that both horses and dogs
would be eaten before people gave in to starvation.

A short while later, Jack and Martha came from their chamber
to join them around the fire. Not long after, Artur departed with Jack, the two
of them vowing not to return empty-handed.

Magnus stood as if he would go with them, but she forced him
to stay. “You are worn out and I would have you with us should a stranger find
the cave.” The hound lay down as if in understanding.

Inga came to the fire from the chamber where she had been
sleeping and Emma handed Merewyn to her.

“I will feed her,” said the new mother and disappeared with
the babe into the back of the cave.

It was time, Emma decided, to take stock of what food they
had. With Sigga beside her, she went to examine their stores. In the rear
chamber, she held her candle high as she opened the roughly woven sacks,
inspecting each one. “We’ve grain enough for gruel until spring and, thanks to
what Sir Geoffroi carried to the cave, we’ve mead enough. He even brought hay
for Thyra, bless him.”

Sigga peered into another group of smaller bags. “There are
dried berries, nuts and herbs, but only enough other vegetables for another
month. Oh, and we’ve some cheese and apples.”

“Spring is two months away,” said Emma, thinking out loud.
“’Twill have to do till then.”

“Mayhap the men will be fortunate in their hunting,” Sigga
encouraged, as they returned to the main chamber.