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He glanced at the hall, then up at the sky. It was a fine cloudless day and the sun was halfway to the zenith. The others had probably already broken the fast. Maybe not Endredi and Bayard...
Adelar threw more cold water on his head, then slowly walked toward the hall.
All through the wedding feast, he struggled not to stare at Endredi as she sat in the wide settle beside Bayard.
Of course he had recognized her at once. Her calm, quiet beauty, her bountiful red-gold hair and her unforgettable green eyes. She had seen him, too, and for a moment he had thought...hoped...been tempted to tell Bayard that the wedding must not be.
But who was he to go against his cousin’s plans, especially when he could not be sure of Endredi’s feelings? Once they had felt something for each other. They both had known it, and he, at least, had cherished it. Yet she had married another man.
It was as if she had confirmed his worst fear—that he was not worthy of her love. He was, after all, his father’s son, and though he struggled constantly to prove that he was not the same as his traitorous sire, perhaps it only mattered that he was of Kendric’s blood after what his father had tried to do to her.
The women at the well began to point, laugh and make jokes of the most bawdy kind. Adelar turned to see what they were talking of and saw Godwin at the door of the weaving shed bestowing a most impressive kiss and bold caress on Gleda. His breeches were half-fastened, and Gleda’s garments could only be described as disheveled. Clearly Godwin had not spent the night in the hall, or the stable, or alone for that matter.
When the passionate couple realized they had an audience, Gleda pulled away, gave the women a saucy smile and sauntered off to the hall. With a dismissive flick of her hair, she passed Adelar. Her presence made absolutely no impression on him whatsoever. There was only one woman who occupied his thoughts today.
Godwin made the women an impressive bow. “Greetings, my dears,” he said with great politeness. “I was not aware my every performance was to be observed. Ah, Adelar! Have we missed the meal?”
The women continued to chuckle among themselves while Godwin joined him.
“Greetings, Godwin. I believe you have already feasted,” Adelar remarked sardonically as he continued toward the hall.
“And well, too,” Godwin replied with a sly grin. “But then, you would know how well Gleda satisfies a man.”
“Apparently any man will do, too.”
“Is the mighty Adelar jealous of a humble gleeman?”
“Not at all. Take her, if she is willing. There are plenty of other women.”
“Speaking of women, Bayard’s new wife is not as lovely as they said, is she?”
“It is not for us to discuss Bayard’s wife,” Adelar replied coldly.
“You’re in a terrible humor today, Adelar. What’s the matter—not enough sleep last night, eh? Who were you with, if not Gleda? Let me think... I know! That little slave Ylla has had her eye on you. Or perhaps that servant of Bayard’s wife. She is old, but you always say older women have a hoard of experience that they are only too willing to share—”
“My only companion last night was a cask of ale, and I am ruing that decision now.”
“What? I don’t believe it! And yet he admits it, too. Well, miracles do happen, after all. Adelar awakens alone for the first time in how many years? I must tell Father Derrick at once.”
“Can you stop that wagging tongue of yours?” Adelar demanded. “You make my head ache.”
“Speaking of tongues, is it not amazing what Gleda can do with hers?”
Adelar did not wish to have a complete recital of Gleda’s abilities, so he began to walk faster. “I’m starving.”
“Me, too. Shall we see what remains haven’t already been thrown to the dogs?”
The door to Bayard’s bower moved and Bayard strode briskly out. “Good day!” he called, his breath like puffs of smoke in the chill air as he approached. “I am going hunting this fine morning.”
Adelar looked away from the bower where Endredi had spent her wedding night. “It is a fine day indeed, Bayard. I will fetch my horse.”
“I had intended to ask you to remain behind. Endredi needs someone to show her about the burh.”
“I am not fit for a lady’s company this morning,” Adelar answered. “What of Dagfinn and his men?”
“They are sleeping like rocks in my hall. I have left some men to guard them. I do not want to spend more time in their presence than I have to.”
“I would be most happy to escort your bride about,” Godwin interjected.
Bayard eyed Godwin. “Perhaps, but I would like you to escort Endredi, Adelar. You can speak to her in her own language, and I want to make her feel that this is her home.”
His gaze was hard and firm, and Adelar knew he was as good as ordered to show Endredi the burh, although he would rather face ten armed Danes. “I will do as you ask, Cousin.”
“Good. Since you seem particularly grim today, I think it would be wise to have Godwin go, too.”
“I am only too happy, my lord,” Godwin replied.
“Rouse the dog keeper. I believe three pair of hounds should be sufficient today. I leave Endredi in your hands, Adelar.”
Adelar nodded as Bayard strode off toward the stable. The women at the well and the stable lads called out their good wishes, which the burhware acknowledged with a jovial response.
Godwin eyed his companion cautiously. “Bayard was not pleased by your reluctance.”
Adelar did not bother to wait for Godwin, who trotted along behind him. “I have no wish to play nursemaid to his bride.”
“Fine—but you should have been more tactful about it. You’ve annoyed him, and he looked happier this morning than he has for many a day.”
“I know,” Adelar replied softly. Indeed, he had thought the same thing. But he did not want to spend time with Endredi. He had no wish to see her look at him as she had yesterday—either the first time, when he had seen the unspoken feelings in her eyes, or later, when she had become as cold and distant as her homeland. Yet he dare not disobey his cousin, and Godwin was right about Bayard’s good humor. It had been all too rare of late.
They paused at the entrance to the hall, and Godwin let out a low whistle. “Bayard spoke the truth. Look at these louts!”
The Danes were sleeping wherever they had fallen into a drunken stupor. Some slumbered with their heads on their arms slung over the table, some lay on the benches and some were even under the tables. More than one snored loudly. One or two of Bayard’s dogs sniffed among the rushes, searching for food.
Adelar and Godwin stepped around them and went to Bayard’s end of the lord’s table.
“Not a morsel worth eating!” Godwin muttered in disgust, looking at the remnants of the feast.
Adelar picked up a crust of flat bread, then let it fall into the straw on the floor. One of the smaller hounds lunged for it and wolfed it down.
A deep voice from the nearest corner mumbled, “Who’s botherin’ the dogs?” Two human feet were barely visible beneath a pile of straw and dogs.
“Is that you, Baldric?” Godwin asked.
An affirmative growl answered them. “Can’t you let a fellow sleep in peace?”
“Bayard wants to go hunting. He says bring three pair of dogs.”
“This is no time for one of your jests, Godwin,” the dog keeper mumbled.
Adelar kicked the fellow’s feet. “Bayard wants to go hunting.”
Baldric sat up when he heard Adelar’s low, stern voice, his blond hair sticking out like so many pieces of straw. He shoved the dogs away from him and stood, scratching his flea bites. In the dim light, the short, burly fellow looked not unlike his charges. “It’s you, eh? Then I believe it.” With his rough voice, he sounded like a dog who had been taught speech, too. “Any food about?”
Godwin shrugged. “Duff’s probably gone back to bed after serving Bayard.”
“What time of day is it?” Baldric demanded. “I would have heard the ruckus if there’d been a proper meal. And so would they.” He nodded at the slumbering Danes.
“They would probably sleep through a thunderstorm—and you, too. We could have cut off your legs and you wouldn’t have noticed,” Godwin said. “The food’s been served and we’ve missed it.”
“I will be happy to find you some,” a young woman’s voice said shyly. Adelar turned around to see the slave Ylla standing inside the door. “There is bread and meat in the salter’s stores. If you like, I will bring it to you.”
“Delightful creature, I am beholden to you,” Godwin said with a courtly bow. “Bring enough for three starving men.”
She gave a slight smile and hurried away. Baldric whistled, making the dogs come instantly alert. “Save some for me,” he muttered as he led the dogs outside.
“She’s not bringing it for us, you know,” Godwin said quietly but pointedly to Adelar. “It’s you she wants to make happy.”
Adelar’s only response was a Baldric-like grunt.
Godwin joined Adelar on a bench. “She’s a pretty little thing, eh? And she’s a virgin, or so the merchant who sold her to Bayard claimed.”
“She is Bayard’s property.” Adelar eyed Godwin with some curiosity. “If you are so smitten with her, why are you pointing out her virtues to me?”
Godwin’s surprise was comical to behold. “St. Swithins in a swamp, why am I? Too much ale has addled my wits. Forget everything I said!”
“Very well, but I would suggest you keep your eye on Ranulf. He is the one not to be trusted around virgins,” Adelar warned.
Godwin’s eyes widened. “It’s true then, about Ranulf and that thane’s daughter at Cynath’s burh? How much did he have to pay?”
“You are much too interested in gossip, Godwin.”
“It was you who first told me the tale,” Godwin noted. “How much?”
“I do not know the exact amount, but let us hope Ordella never finds out. And,” Adelar said sternly, “I believe she would never forgive the messenger, either.”
“I think you are correct about that,” Godwin agreed. “Still, Ranulf had best take better care, eh?”
Ylla returned. She eyed the still-sleeping Danes warily and gave them a wide berth as she quickly cleared a space at the table. When she set the bread and ale down in front of Adelar, she smiled shyly. “Anything else, my lord?”
“No. You may go.”
One of the Danes stirred and snorted noisily, and Ylla scurried out of the hall as if she expected him to rise and give chase.
“You see, I was telling the truth. She likes you.”
“She belongs to Bayard.”
“Who never touches slaves.” Suddenly Godwin smote himself on the forehead. “Ah, I am the biggest dolt in the kingdom! You are not interested in that little slave because you care for another!”
“And who might that be?”
“Gleda—no! You have but to crook your finger and she is in your lap. Someone who lives elsewhere, perhaps. Let me think...you haven’t had her yet, or you would not be pining for her—a minor delay, I am sure.”
“You seem confident of my charms.”
“Are you going to try to deny that women find you irresistible? I tell you, Adelar, between you and Bayard, it is a wonder there is a virgin left in En- gland.”
“Who am I to disillusion you? But do you think I would wish to find myself in Ranulf’s place? I am not as rich as he is, to risk my money seducing noblemen’s daughters.”
“Perfectly right. So, she must be married. And she must be beautiful, because everyone knows you would only want a beauty. That lets out Ordella—” Adelar sniffed derisively “—and I think Bayard’s wife, who although not as ugly as Ordella, is no beauty, either.”
Adelar did not reply. Endredi’s beauty was not the kind that most men would see. It did not flaunt itself with bright eyes, pink cheeks and beguiling, empty smiles. It was far more subtle, in her intelligent eyes, in the slight flush that would steal over her soft cheeks when she was embarrassed, in the fullness of her lips when she smiled her shy, sweet smile.
The same smile she had given Bayard last night. He stabbed at the bread in front of him. “Why don’t you stop talking and eat?”
“Careful! You nearly got my hand. I didn’t realize you were that hungry. You are right. We mustn’t tarry or Bayard will be even more angry. I do not want to be the one to further sour his mood.”
* * *
“Where is the priest?” Endredi asked Helmi, who had been bustling about the bower trying to look busy for some time. She knew the serving woman was probably full of questions about her husband, but she was in no mood to satisfy a servant’s need for gossip.
“That one? He has done their ceremony and gone already, I am happy to say. A more pompous, miserable, misguided man never lived, I believe. Do you know he actually thinks all women evil? Everyone knows the gods and goddesses are both good and bad. I think this Christianity is a Saxon plot to disrupt the natural relations between men and women. I hope your husband does not think you are evil, my lady? I trust he treats you well?”
Endredi did not answer Helmi’s questions. “So I have missed Mass.”
“The noon draws near, my lady,” Helmi said with a knowing grin. “A good sign, being so tired. Your husband must be a virile man, eh?”
Again Endredi did not answer. Her husband had done what was necessary to consummate the relationship, no more, but that was no subject to be spoken of to another.
Helmi finally seemed to understand that she did not wish to discuss her husband or the wedding night. “Do you have any plans for today, my lady? Or would you rather rest?”
“I wish to meet all of the servants,” she said thoughtfully. “Bayard said he would see to it that someone shows me about the burh, too.”
“I should hope he would arrange an escort. We couldn’t go by ourselves. It wouldn’t be safe.”
Endredi kept her smile to herself. Helmi thought all Saxon men were little removed from rutting rams, at least those who weren’t vicious murderers. “Perhaps one of the thanes will escort us,” she said, washing her face and reaching for the comb Helmi held out to her.
Helmi opened a chest of clothing. “This gown is a pretty one. I am sure your husband would like it.”
“What of Dagfinn and the others?”
“Still snoring in the hall, no doubt.”
“I believe you are right. It would be an act of the gods if they move before nightfall after the amount of ale they imbibed at the feast.”
Helmi grinned slyly. “Perhaps you would rather wait here for your husband’s return.”
Endredi picked up her thin wool cloak and an intricately carved wooden box. “I will meet the servants of the hall now, and see to the preparations of the meals. Will you come with me?”
