A True and Perfect Knight (24 page)

Owain had come some time later. With him, he brought an old beldam. “Milady, this is Gwyneth. She has herbs and other potions that may help Sir Haven.”

Gennie fell on her knees before the peasant woman and clasped her hands in a fierce grip. “
Merci, merci. Pour grace de Dieu, aidez mon coeur.
”

A string of rapid Welsh issued from the woman.

Gennie looked to Owain. “She speaks so quickly. Please, what does she say?”

“She says that in exchange for her help, she wants a place by Sir Haven’s fire for the rest of her life.”

Lady Genvieve didn’t hesitate. “Anything. Anything I have.”

Another spate of Welsh, and Gennie looked again to Owain.

“She asks that you remain here with her. She wants you to learn what has happened to their people as well as how to use the potions that will heal Sir Haven.”

Gennie smiled. “She could not make me leave. I will be happy to learn all I can from her. In turn, I will teach her English.”

Owain left one of the Welsh bowmen to act as interpreter for Gennie. Then the sergeant-at-arms went off to get the items Gwyneth said she needed to heal Sir Haven.

The next day and a half sapped every ounce of Gennie’s reserve. The treatment of Haven’s fever required reopening the wound; draining and cleaning it, stitching it shut and applying a poultice. The beldam insisted on alternating hot and cold compresses.

Haven tossed, shouted and fought with distressing randomness. They had to wait until he exhausted himself before feeding him, or he would spill more food than he ate.

During the few moments when he slept, Gwyneth told Gennie of the horrors that had visited Two Hills Keep since Daffydd had decided to rebel against the English. If Gennie hadn’t expended all her tears on Haven, she would have wept over Gwyneth’s tales of orphaned children, families burned alive and women raped.

All the folk in the area had lost their homes. Crops had been destroyed, and there was no money to purchase replacements for the winter. Worse, it seemed that both the English and the Welsh rebels visited these horrors on the people of the region.

Two mornings after the beldam arrived, Gennie had slipped into a weary doze. Loud voices from the bailey roused her from the only rest she had gotten in more than a day. She glanced to the corner near the braiser where Gwyneth had taken up residence. The woman nodded, and Gennie rose. She stretched the kinks out of her back and legs, then descended to the courtyard to discover what the yelling was about.

Chapter Nineteen

In the bailey she found that Soames had arrived with two strangers. They stood in the open with Owain. All four men shouted at once.

From the top of the stairs, Gennie used her firmest tone and said, “Stop that yelling this instant.”

The effect was minimal. Obviously stronger measures were called for. She marched straight up to the group, elbowed her way between the two strangers into the middle of the bellowing males and knelt in the mud. She folded her hands and began.

“Our Father…”

A groan fell into the stunned silence, but no one interrupted her. “Amen.”

A chorus of
Amens
rumbled over her head.

She smiled and made to rise. Four hands shot out to assist her.

“Milady, that was unnecessary.” Owain actually looked hurt.

“Was it? I disagree. My husband rests peacefully for the first time in almost a week, and you can find nothing better to do than shout down the walls below his chamber.”

Soames and Owain had the grace to look embarrassed. The two strangers chattered in Welsh.

“Now what is this all about?”

“Soames says the Welsh cannot…”

“Owain doesn’t realize the harm…”

Welsh words came from the other two men. Gennie put her hands over her ears. “
Antez!
One at a time. Please, Soames, you fist.”

“But…” Owain objected.

“
Non
, you’ll have your turn. Now be silent until Soames finishes.”

“We have a serious problem, milady. Owain has allowed the Welsh to work and trade at the keep. I understand some of them even live here.”

“The Welsh hereabouts have been much abused. In exchange for our protection, they help us to rebuild and secure supplies. I do not see a problem.”

“King Edward gave Sir Haven specific orders not to let the Welsh anywhere near this place.”

“Did he so? I wonder why?”

“That 1 do not know, Lady Genvieve. But Sir Haven will be angry if he recovers to find the Welsh have overrun the keep.”

“My husband may prove more reasonable than you expect.” Gennie hardly believed her own claim. She offered it nonetheless, knowing that the men needed to hear it.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“We shall have to see. Is there anything else?”

“The walls and keep must be reconstructed. We’ve not the laborers nor the supplies with which to do it. Then, there’s this fellow and his assistant.” Soames gestured with his thumb at the two Welsh strangers.

“What is the difficulty with these men? We have little, but we can offer what hospitality we may.”

“’Tis not a matter of hospitality. That black-haired fellow is the castle builder.”

Gennie studied the engineer, who unabashedly studied her right back. “I am confused, Soames. Everyone knows that Edward’s master builder is James St. George d’Esperanche. This man is Welsh. And did you not just say that the king did not want the Welsh anywhere near Two Hills Keep?”

“Aye, I said all that. But seems the master builder was needed elsewhere, so he sent this fellow Arthur Pwyll in his place.”

Upon hearing his name, Pwyll spoke in careful English. “I studied with Master St. George for ten years. Your king has many castles he wants to build. Too many for one engineer. My master has permitted me to supervise construction on some of the smaller keeps. I have letters to confirm what I say.” He reached into a sack at his side and offered a rolled and sealed parchment.

“Well then, Soames, that sounds well enough. If Pwyll has letters authorizing his work here, all we need do is read them and comply.”

She looked from Soames to Owain and back, then took the parchment from Pwyll. “I will read the letters. Soames if you are finished, I will hear from Owain.”

“Aye, I am done.”

“Milady,” Owain began, “we must have the Welsh to aid us.”

“I do not see how that will be possible if the king expressly forbids it,” she countered.

“And what of your promise to Gwyneth?”

“Oh, my. I cannot unsay that promise.”

“No milady, you cannot.”

“You should never have made such a promise in the first place,” Soames interjected.

“Did no one tell you that I made the promise because Gwyneth claimed she could save Sir Haven’s life? She did as she claimed. I would make the same promise and more if I had it to do again.”

Soames’s face flushed. “No one spoke of this to me.”

“Now you understand. It is not only Gwyneth but also others of the local Welsh who have made it possible for us all to survive. I will hear no more about removing them from the keep unless my husband decides it must be so.”
Which he never will do, if I can prevent it
, she thought.

“What else, Owain?”

“Soames does not agree with me as to which task to undertake first.”

“What say you, Pwyll?” Gennie asked.

“I disagree with both of them.”

“Soames, can we not divide our men and the Welsh workers into three groups, and thus make progress on all tasks?”

“Aye, milady, that might work.”

“An excellent idea, Lady Genvieve.” Pwyll’s bow accompanied the statement.

“Thank you, Pwyll.”

“You are most welcome, milady. If you will permit, my assistant and I will begin our examination of the keep and grounds.”

“By all means do so.” The Welshmen left, and Gennie turned her attention to Soames and Owain. “If all is settled, I must return to my husband.”

“Stay a moment, Lady Genvieve. There remains one small matter.”

“’Tis foolishness to bother her ladyship with such a small disagreement,” Soames said.

Gennie sighed. “What disagreement is this?”

“Your son, milady…” Owain hesitated.

She had seen her son but briefly in the past week. Guilt and concern choked her. In an impulse to still the worried beat of her pulse, Gennie’s hand went to her throat. “What of Thomas? Is he well?”

“He is fine, milady,” Soames assured her.

“It’s just that the dog…”

She cut Owain off. “Dog, what dog? Please tell me he’s not been bitten by a mad dog?”

“The boy is fine.” Owain muttered from behind clenched teeth. “But he has found a dog and has grown attached to the beast.”

Relief nearly stopped her heart. She could not have borne to lose Thomas. “Is that all?”

“It is a most inappropriate creature, milady,” said Soames. “The boy even named the cur Caesar.”

“It is a puppy, and ’twill do the lad good to have a playmate,” Owain argued.

“Sir Haven will be most displeased,” countered Soames.

Gennie laughed. “I would hardly worry about Sir Haven’s displeasure over a hound that I allow my son to have, when we will no doubt suffer more than frowns over the issue of the Welsh workers.”

Soames and Owain both nodded, as if she had uttered some sage wisdom.

“Good; now I must go. If you see Rene, would you ask him to send some sops for my husband with my food?”

“We’ll see to it, milady.”

Gennie turned and mounted the stairs to the gatehouse room. She could not help but smile as the two warriors’ voices rose in discord behind her.

Gennie licked his ear. It felt good, very wet, but good. Still he had rather she licked his…

“Bad dog. Get out.”

Bad dog? Get out?
Haven felt tension form between his eyebrows. He opened his eyes, but the dim light made his head ache mere. He hurt all over, yet even with his eyes closed, he struggled to rise. He had no idea where he was, nor to whom that voice belonged. Nonetheless, he would not stay where he was unwelcome.

“Nay, Sir Haven.” The strangely accented voice cackled, and a hand met his chest, restraining him.

Haven fell backward, surprised to discover just how weak he was.

More words crackled from the odd voice, but the sounds made no sense. He heard shuffling footsteps.

He had a vague vision of a battle with the Welsh. The three warriors, Rebecca, falling in the mud, Watley’s horse…

Haven braved the increased headache and opened his eyes. Stone walls, a few tapestries, a braiser and a heap of furs met his glance.
Where am I?

More footsteps sounded, lighter and faster this time.

“Haven? Haven.” Gennie burst into the room, a smile beaming on her lips. “
Merci le Ban Dieu.
Gwyneth said you had awakened, but I needed to see for myself.”

She sat by him and fussed with his covers. She seemed determined to touch him everywhere. Weak as he was, he could not prevent his body’s natural reaction.

“I only stepped out for a moment, to tell Thomas he must keep that dog out of this room. Getting you well has been a trial, and I don’t want that mongrel bringing pestilence in here.”

Mongrel? Thomas? Why would Gennie call her son a dog? And where in Hades were they? He grabbed his wife’s wandering hands and grimaced. Even that small movement hurt.

“What is it? Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?” Her words rushed, panic-driven, over his face.

“Everywhere,” he gritted out. “Now be still. It will lessen the pain.”

“But husband…”

“Nay. Please, where are we?”

Gennie blinked at him. “Why, at Two Hills Keep. Where else would we be?”

“I know not. The last thing I remember is falling in the mud and Watley’s horse leaping over me.”

“Oh, my poor dear Haven.” Gennie removed one hand from his. Her soft finger moved over his face, pushing back the hair that fell across his brow. “You remember nothing of the two days that followed that battle?”

“Nay.”

Gennie caressed his cheek.

Haven shuddered.

“You refused to allow me to treat your injuries, but insisted on pushing forward. You would complete the task your king had set you or die trying.”

He lost focus as she spoke. He narrowed his field of vision, clinging to the sight of those plush lips, moving a hand’s breadth from his. She had called him her dear Haven. Had he somehow managed to capture a small portion of her affection? More like she simply felt sorry for anyone in pain.

“We at last arrived at Two Hills Keep, and you collapsed. I was certain that you had no strength left, but it might have been from the shock of seeing the keep destroyed and the knowledge that Daffydd had been here and gone before us.”

Instantly his gaze shifted back to her eyes. “What do you mean? If the keep is destroyed, where are we, exactly?”