*
* * * *
Rohaise did not protest at all. She
understood Piers’s manly nature too well to object to something he
felt he had to do.
“I will miss you every day and every night,”
she told him.
“Think of the happy homecoming we’ll share.”
He kissed her once, then grew serious. “If I do not return, I want
you to know that you have remade my life and given me great joy. I
have written a document, giving you a property in Sicily. Samira
has the parchment. I want you to see my girl safely home if I am
unable to do it. Will you promise me, Rohaise?”
“I promise gladly, but I’d rather have you in
my arms.”
“So I will be, God willing. You are precious
to me, Rohaise. You are worth the long journey to England, worth
all the danger we faced, and more.”
*
* * * *
Samira knew she had no right to say anything
to Will to try to change his mind. And where Joanna and Rohaise
could say their farewells in private, Samira had to be content with
a few hasty words in the inner bailey. After embracing Piers and
Alain she gave her hands to Will, who stood holding them and
looking down at her as if he wanted to say something but could not.
Unlike the older men, he was not wearing chain-mail. Will, not yet
knighted or confirmed in his titles, wore only his squire’s sword,
with the baldric that held it fastened over his blue wool tunic.
His dark cloak was still slung over one arm.
“God keep you safe, my lord,” Samira
whispered.
“And you, my lady.” His hands tightened over
hers.
With a
soft cry, Samira rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, Will turned his
head just in time, so it was his lips she touched
– and lingered upon.
“My lady, I will win every battle for your
sweet sake,” Will promised. He dropped her hands to swirl his cloak
in a circle and settle it upon his shoulders. Walking away a pace
or two, he vaulted onto his horse’s back. With a wave of one hand,
he wheeled the horse toward the castle gate.
Samira could not bear to watch the three men
ride away. She fled indoors, seeking the quiet of her own chamber,
where she could weep without being seen.
The men did not return until late March.
Ambrose came with them, and it was he who recounted the end of
nearly twenty years of civil war. This he did while they all sat at
a feast to celebrate the homecoming.
“
Stephen’s army and Henry’s faced each other from either
side of the Thames at Wallingford,” Ambrose said. “It was bitterly
cold that day, with deep snow on the ground and the river partially
frozen, truly a terrible time and
place for a battle.
Then a few of Stephen’s nobles
and some priests went to him and told him the war was destroying
the country. The long strain of it has destroyed Stephen’s health,
too, and I believe he was eager to find peace by any honorable
means. He
and
Henry held
a conference and came to an agreement. Matilda will not become
queen, which relieved those nobles who do not want to be ruled by a
woman. Instead, Stephen will remain as king for his lifetime, and
Matilda’s son Henry is to inherit England a
fter Stephen’s
death. There were other points discussed, but the royal
suc
cession was the most
important item. And so, at last, the war is over, and no battle was
fought to end it.”
“How foolish,” Samira cried. “After so many
years, after countless lives lost, villages and castles destroyed,
after a fair country has nearly been ruined beyond repair, now they
come to terms? Why couldn’t they have been so sensible twenty years
ago?”
“
Because
the circumstances have changed over time,” Ambrose said. “Stephen’s
own son is dead now, so it is all the same to him if Henry inherits
the kingdom. And in those earlier years Matilda was still a
vigorous and arrogant woman, determined to have her own way and be
queen as her father had promised. The difference to her
now
is that her son is grown into a man
who can easily rule this land, so she, too, will probably
be content when she learns of the final resolution. All England
must be rejoicing today.”
“We have our own private reasons for
rejoicing,” said Piers. “Thanks to your efforts, Uncle Ambrose,
Alain and I are now free men in England.”
“
But
landless,” Ambrose added. “Unfortunately, when Alain’s father died,
Woodward escheated to the crown because a criminal cannot inherit.
Stephen gave the land and title to one
of
his nobles years ago and has refused to take it
back.”
“I do not care about the land,” Alain said.
“All I wanted was to clear my name and Piers’s, and to discover and
punish Crispin’s murderer. That we have accomplished. As for
Woodward, I have not seen it since I was seven years old. I
scarcely remember it. I am sorry for my father’s sake that the
title has passed out of our family, but the honors I have earned
for myself in Sicily mean more to me.”
“Since as a younger son I never had lands to
lose,” Piers added, “I also am content to have my honor restored
and ask no more than that of England’s king. I will always be
grateful to you, Uncle Ambrose, for what you have done for Alain
and me.”
“Will has been officially confirmed as baron
of both Haughston and Banningford,” Ambrose told Joanna. “Stephen
himself knighted your son.”
“I know we have you to thank for that, too,”
Joanna said. “William Crispin has changed since he’s been away.
He’s more grown up. He’s tougher.”
“These months with Alain and Piers, and then
his time at court, have all been good for him,” Ambrose agreed.
“Will is a man now, with no more need for guardians.”
“A man. Yes, he is.” Joanna looked along the
table toward her son. “William Crispin, there is something I want
to tell you. I intend to marry Alain.”
There was an abrupt silence at the high
table. Everyone turned to look at Joanna.
“Well?” she said to her son. “Aren’t you
going to say anything?”
“Mother, I already know about it,” he
said.
“How could you know?”
“
I am
young but not blind,” Will told her. “I noted the way you and Alain
looked at each other. Then, one night when we were away, while we
sat drinking and talking, I demanded to know what Alain’s
intentions toward you were, and he told me the w
hole story
of his long love for you.
He
also said he would marry you as soon as you are ready.”
“The moment seemed right,” Alain added.
“I am sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me
yourself,” Will said to Joanna. “But Alain explained you needed
time to decide when and how to tell me.”
“Did he?” Joanna slanted an appraising look
toward Alain. “I recall an earlier decision I made about a wine
jug. I assure you, my lord Alain, I am prepared to make the same
decision again.”
Rohaise
began to laugh. Pier
s looked at her as
if he expected some explanation, but she held her
sides and leaned against his shoulder and kept on
laughing.
“You men,” she gasped, wiping her eyes. “You
think you are so clever, arranging everything for your women. You
planned to surprise Joanna with this news, didn’t you? But she has
a surprise for you that I’ll wager none of you expects.” She went
off into more gales of laughter.
By this time Samira was giggling, her eyes
bright, with one hand held over her mouth to contain the sounds.
Then Joanna began to laugh, too.
Bewildered by this behavior, the men looked
at each other, shaking their heads at the vagaries of women.
“Joanna, enough of this. Explain yourself,”
Alain commanded.
“You may not order me,” she said. “I have
told you more than once, I will never again be ordered by any man.
However, if you ask me politely, I may decide to tell you.”
A slow
grin spread across Alain’s face. “Very well, my dear lady; will you
be kind enough to disclose your mysterious secret
?”
“I would be delighted, my lord. I am glad to
know my son has no objections to our marriage, because you will
have to wed me as promptly as possible. I am carrying your
child.”
“A child?” Alain stared at her. “A child.
Joanna, my love!”
“Rohaise and I have counted as best we could,
and we believe it occurred the very first time we made love. Your
climb up the tower wall to my room was most opportune, my lord,”
Joanna informed him with a teasing smile.
“
Mother,”
Will chided, rolling his eyes, “lower your voice, please.
You needn’t tell everyone in the entire castle of your
condition.
“Wouldn’t you think,” Will added to Samira,
who sat on his other side, “that at their ages, they’d show a
little more restraint?”
“I think it’s lovely,” Samira replied,
looking at Will without the hint of a blush.
On Samira’s other side, Piers leaned toward
Rohaise.
“Is there any chance that you might be
following Joanna’s example?” he asked.
“No, my lord, I regret to say I have no such
hope.”
“In that case,” Piers murmured, “I shall take
immediate steps to change your condition.”
“I hope so, my lord,” Rohaise murmured. “Oh,
I do hope you will.”
*
* * * *
Later on that starry spring night, when the
castle was finally quiet, Alain stirred in Joanna’s arms. She moved
her head, giving him a questioning look. The light of the single
oil lamp showed a woman flushed and happy from love-making. Alain
raised himself on one elbow to look at her.
“My task in England is done,” he said.
“My lord?” A faint crease appeared between
her brows.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said, kissing the
tip of her nose. “I remember a young girl who spoke with shining
eyes of traveling abroad. By now I know better than to command you,
Joanna, so I’ll ask instead. Will you go with me?”
“I have always wanted to see the world,” she
murmured. “I convinced myself to marry poor Crispin with a cheerful
face because he promised to take me to Normandy and Compostela. Do
you remember?”
“
I
remember. And your father was angry…. “
“Yes, well, all of that is finished now. Take
me to Sicily, Alain. I want to see brilliant sunshine on turquoise
waters. I want to see palm trees and eat dates and talk to Saracen
lords.”
“I will have to fight off the Saracen lords,”
he teased. “They’ll want to kidnap you for their harems.”
“No, not me. I’ll soon be too fat, and I’m
much too old. I am almost thirty-three.”
“Not too old for me,” he whispered, “or for
love.”
“
Oh, no,
not too old for love at all.” A moment later, wrenching her mouth
from his, she asked, “May I have a sapphire silk robe and long
golden earrings?”
“
I am
breathless at the thought of you with your hair down
and
nothing on beneath a silken
robe,” Alain said. “You may have anything you want. I told
you before, I am a rich man. Now, concentrate, my dearest, and stop
interrupting. I am trying to make love to you.”
Lady
Samira of Palermo and Bar
on William
Crispin of Haughston and Banningford were married
in early April of the Year of Our Lord 1153. Because the lands in
Normandy that Will had inherited from his father had lain untended
for many years he decided to travel there immediately after
hi
s wedding to inspect them and
see to their restoration.
“I want you to go with me,” he said to Alain
and Piers. “I will value your advice, and since you insist on
returning to your own lands you can rest in Normandy after the
crossing from England.”
“Thank you,” Alain responded. “We plan to
travel slowly, so as not to tire Joanna.”
“It’s I who ought to thank you,” Will told
him. “You freed me as well as my mother, and through you I now know
my father. I am glad we can be friends.”
“
You and
Samir
a are always welcome in my
home,” Alain said.
“Piers has told me the same. Our farewell
will not be a final good-bye, of that I am sure,” Will replied.
In the first week of September, Joanna gave
birth to a daughter, whom they named Eleanor for Joanna’s mother.
Two weeks later, Joanna, Alain, their baby, Piers and Rohaise, all
left Normandy en route to Sicily.
Roger II
of Sicily died in 1154, and was succeeded by his son, William I.
With Roger’s death the most brilliant days of a
glorious,
albeit brief
era in the history
of a tragic island were over, though relatively peaceful Norman
rule continued in Sicily for another forty years. On December 25,
1194, Emperor Henry VI Hohenstaufen, the husband of Roger’s
daughter Constance, was crowned King of Sicily in Palermo
Cathedral. Thus, the Holy Roman Emperors at last took possession of
the island they had for so long coveted. Their rule was fatal to
the tolerant and enlightened blend of Greek and Roman Christianity,
Islam, and Judaism that Sicily’s Norman kings had so carefully
cultivated.
The title
held by George of Antioch, Emir al-Bahr, in Arabic, Ruler (or
commander) of the Sea, found its way into modern languages. In
French it is
amiral,
in Spanish,
almirante,
in English, admiral.
Flora Speer is the author of twenty-two
full-length novels and two novellas.