Winter Song (13 page)

“But how long could such a delusion control Rustengo?” Alys
asked.

Raymond shrugged. “Who knows what is in Henry’s mind—”

“If anything is,” Alys remarked caustically.

“And that may also be true—I mean that the king has no
particular purpose. After all, it was I who asked for Blancheforte. Perhaps he
did not think about my de Soler connections.”

“Do not believe that for a minute,” Alys snapped. “Whatever
else he is, Henry is no fool in that way.”

“You do him an injustice, Alys,” Raymond protested. “Often
Henry means no harm. It may indeed be that he only hopes my presence will keep
the peace. He must know Rustengo will talk to me, and I will urge him toward
restraint. Really, it can profit no one to have a war in the town. I will see
what I can do, but whatever the king’s desire, I cannot stay long in Bordeaux.
The other estates are of greater importance.”

“That is true,” Alys agreed. “There is nothing at Blancheforte
but the demesne farm. It will not take long to put that in order.”

“Put that in order?” Raymond repeated blankly.

“You said there had been no master at Blancheforte for many
years. Surely someone has been cheating. But that is nothing to trouble you, my
lord. You will have more important matters in hand than farm accounts and the
stocking of a keep and the output of women servants. I only mention it at all
because I will need a week or two to learn what I need to know and set all
straight.”

“A week or two to reorganize an estate!” Raymond burst out
laughing.

“No.” Alys laughed also. “You are making jest of me. The
demesne lands must be much smaller than those even of Bix.”

“They must be, indeed, for I cannot remember anything about
them,” Raymond admitted. “All I know is that there is, and has been, no profit
from them.”

“Well, I am not expecting to find any profit, only to see that
the keep is stocked for our residence so that we do not need to buy.”

“But the town is so near. Is it worth the trouble?”

Alys was silent. Then she said slowly, “I do not know, my
lord. Here we come again to the difference between you and me. I tried to warn
you. To me, every tenth pence is worth trouble. It is bred in my bone to buy
nothing I can harvest, breed, or make. If this will shame you among your great
friends…” Her voice shook.

“No!” Raymond cried softly. “Love, they will envy me. It is
no shame. It is only strange to me that you wish to be troubled with such
things. We are rich—”

“I cannot help it,” Alys sobbed. “I am not fit to be a great
lady. I cannot take joy in play. I must be doing.”

“Then you shall do, love. Alys, do not weep. You shall do
whatever gives you joy.”

Chapter Seven

Nothing occurred during the week spent celebrating Raymond’s
and Alys’s wedding to damp the pleasure everyone felt in the marriage. If
William was distressed by the sight of his daughter’s blood on the sheets,
which were removed to be stored as evidence of Alys’s virginity, the feeling
was dispelled by the happiness that made her eyes sparkle and her cheeks glow.
There was comfort too in the absorbed, devoted attention Raymond paid to her at
all times.

And Elizabeth felt she was paid in full for every effort she
had made for her stepdaughter by the rare embrace Alys bestowed on her, and the
grateful thanks that made clear that Alys had taken her advice and it had been
fruitful.

In the great tourney that fully occupied the next two days,
no one was seriously hurt, and Alys enjoyed it as much as anyone because her
husband, the groom, was not permitted to fight in it. The hunts were an
unqualified success, also. Raymond fortunately killed the largest boar and the
widest-antlered stag. Alys, quite properly, killed nothing, but she rode with
the hunt and witnessed her husband taking his prizes.

The dinners continued excellent, although not nearly so long
and elaborate as the wedding feast, and the entertainment always gave pleasure.
Nor did political problems obtrude to spoil Raymond’s enjoyment or worry Alys.
If the king had had more to say about Gascony, he seemed to have forgotten, or
someone had convinced him that a wedding celebration was not the time to speak
of it.

Even the final parting between Alys and her father was
eased. Elizabeth’s sons, Aubery and John, had come with their masters to the
wedding and were given leave to accompany their mother and stepfather home for
a few weeks. Since William had long been more of a father to them than Mauger,
who had sired them, it was as if his own children would be with him.

The voyage, too, was prosperous, unusually quick and easy for
a winter crossing. Alys, accustomed to boats on the river, was neither afraid
nor seriously seasick, except for a few hours of queasiness the first day.
Nonetheless, she was very glad when the ship docked just past dawn. They came
to Blancheforte before the prime, and even in the gentle, rosy light of a new
day, the outer portions of the keep were far from inviting. It was clear at a
glance that this stronghold had been long neglected. The outer walls were
completely unguarded, the drawbridge down, the portcullis up. The sullen and
indifferent attitude of the few men-at-arms that held the place made Raymond
snarl, and when they passed through into the inner bailey, Alys’s eyes opened
wide with surprise at the filth and the decayed condition and utter emptiness
of the outbuildings. Alys saw Raymond’s head snap toward Arnald, whose eyes
were also bulging at the filth and disorder. She reached out and grasped her
husband’s arm. “Do not bid Arnald to cast out the old guard, my lord.”

“Alys, this is no time for a woman’s softness. The gates
were open! They did not even challenge us! Anyone could have come in—”

“I do not plead for them, my lord. I only wish to use them.
They created this filth, no doubt, so they can clean it up.”

“My dear wife, I do not expect you to remain in this sty,”
Raymond exclaimed. “My cousin Rustengo will house us with the greatest
goodwill.”

“I am sure he would, Raymond, but not at all sure he
should
.
What can Calhau think if you come to him from Rustengo’s house demanding a
place on the council as the holder of Blancheforte.”

Raymond mouthed an obscenity. Alys was quite right. It was
one thing for him to move into Blancheforte and demand his right as holder, it
would be quite another for him to live with Rustengo and still make that claim.
“But to live here! Alys, it is not fit for you, my love.”

“If the roof of the keep has not fallen in, it will soon be
fit,” Alys replied, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm and determination. “Do
you go into the town and do your business there. Leave me most of the troop,
and do not bring guests to the keep tonight, although I think we will be ready
for company tomorrow, if it is necessary.” Raymond gaped at her, but she had
turned her head toward the master-at-arms and bidden him to send men to make
the keep secure and to gather together and disarm the resident men-at-arms.
Before Raymond could catch his breath, two more men were sent to the stables
with orders to collect what grooms and servants they could find and arrange for
the comfort of the horses, reporting at once if there was not sufficient feed
for that day and the next.

“Alys!” Raymond protested, after she had given the abrupt
orders to secure the keep.

He did not know whether he was more shocked by the way she
had assumed command or the way Arnald had snapped to attention at her word and
obeyed her orders. In the next moment he called to mind that the men were
accustomed to obeying her. The troop of twenty, headed by Arnald, had all come
from Marlowe, hand-picked by William for skill and for willingness to live out
the remainder of their lives in a foreign land—and, Raymond now suspected, for
their devotion to Alys herself. All were relatively young and unmarried, except
two whose wives had come along also to serve as Alys’s personal maids.

Irritation flicked Raymond as he wondered whether William
had arranged this to be sure Alys would have protection, even from him. Then he
dismissed that unworthy thought. Naturally Alys would need men who would obey
her if she were to enforce her authority on strange servants and serfs. Still,
for her to order the men to secure the keep was going a little far beyond
wifely duty.

Her head had turned to him when he said her name. “Yes, my
lord?”

“Surely the defense of the keep is my business,” he snapped.

“Defense?” Her eyes widened. “Are we in some danger here,
Raymond? But we are all unprepared—”

“No, of course there is no danger, at least not of an attack
on Blancheforte. But to order the men to secure the place without even a
question to me is not something I like.”

Astonishment showed on Alys’s face. “But why? I only wanted
the gates closed, lest this lazy rabble run off before I could use them. My
lord, why should you be troubled with such things as sweeping the floors and
carting out garbage?” She smiled tentatively. “Indeed, what do you know of such
work?”

Raymond could not help laughing, although a spot of
dissatisfaction remained in him. “Nothing,” he agreed, “but I feel like a fifth
wheel on a cart. Perhaps you will sweep me out with the rest of the useless stuff.”

Alys glanced at him under her long lashes and blushed. Her
look made color rise under Raymond’s dark skin also, and his eyes glittered.
There had been no possibility of lovemaking on the ship, unless they chose to
lie together in the open on the wet and icy deck. Raymond had become
accustomed, however, to relatively long periods of celibacy. In fact, since the
time he had gone to Marlowe, he had hardly touched a woman except Alys. Once he
considered himself in love, he would not take a mistress, and he had little
taste for casual whores. Thus, previous to their marriage, Raymond had gone
longer between couplings than the days they had spent on the ship without
feeling pressed for relief. Now, however, he could barely restrain himself from
seizing his wife and carrying her off.

Alys was even more surprised by the urgency of her desire,
because she had never felt such a thing before. Even in the period just before
her marriage when she had been so uneasy the sensation was undefined. Now she
knew what she wanted and she had to avert her eyes lest they devour her husband
with the avidity she also felt.

“Let us go in and see how bad it is,” Raymond said, his
voice harsh. Inside there would be private chambers and straw pallets. If there
was nothing better, that must serve. Alys would not mind. He had seen her look.

He did not wait for Alys’s wordless consent, but rode
forward through the bailey toward the forebuilding. Here he dismounted and
helped Alys down, removing his hands hastily when she was on her feet. It was a
gesture dictated by the images in his mind rather than any physical thing. He
could not feel her body, nor could she feel anything beyond the pressure of his
touch. Both wore several layers of heavy garments covered by fur-lined cloaks.
Nonetheless, Alys drew her breath in sharply.

“The stairs are sound, at least,” Raymond said, striving for
a natural tone of voice.

“Good,” Alys replied, “but be careful you do not trip on some
offal. It seems to me that anyone here just dropped anything unwanted whenever
it was decided the thing was of no use.”

Although he did not answer, Raymond took Alys’s advice,
feeling his way carefully in the dim light that entered through the lower door.
It was as well he took care. He had to kick several unidentified masses off the
stair. The heavy door into the hall stood open also. As he entered, Raymond
cursed. The smell was offensive even to his hardened nose and told him what he
would find. Still, the sight that met his eyes and Alys’s when they had passed
through the short passage that pierced the walls and the second heavy door
effectively damped their sexual excitement.

There were some maids and men clustered around a choked,
half-dead fire burning God-knew-what at one end of the hall, but between the
entrance and the fireplace was a sea of slimy, decayed rushes from which rose
an intolerable stench. Here and there was faint movement, as if some horrible
vermin lived inside the putrid mass.

“There will be no place for us in this garderobe,” Alys said
softly to Raymond. “Go you to town, my love. It seems to me that none knows of
our coming. Mayhap the king’s letters were delayed. If you desire a quiet word
with your kinsman Rustengo, this will be the time for it before the other party
is aware you are here.”

“But how can I leave you with this burden?”

Alys smiled up at him. “It is a burden I know well how to
carry and will be light for me. Will you need more than two men to assure your
safety?”

“I need no men to assure my safety,” Raymond replied shortly.
“Do you think I am a child, incapable of defending myself?”

Calling herself ten times a fool, Alys shook her head. “Forgive
me. It is this place, so abandoned and uncared for. It has made me feel that
the whole town and countryside are full of disorder.”

“Nonsense.” Now Raymond laughed at her. Although he had
reacted sharply at first, he was not ill-pleased, on second thought, that his
wife cared for his safety. “Unless my kinsmen have already made more mischief
than I think even they desire, Bordeaux is a well-ordered town.”

“Take the men anyway,” Alys pleaded. “It would look ill if
you came alone. It is more fitting and adds to your consequence that you be
attended.”

Raymond opened his mouth to say that he need put on no airs
before his mother’s cousin, but it occurred to him that Alys had a good point.
He was no longer “young Raymond, Jeannette’s son”. Now he was a substantial
landholder in his own right, about to take his seat on the council of Bordeaux.
It would be wrong to ride through the town with twenty men-at-arms on his tail,
drawing notice to himself and displaying arrogance. However, it would be
equally wrong to arrive unattended and unannounced, as if he came for help and instruction.