Knight and the Witch 02 - A Summer Bewitchment (12 page)

“Until I saw your tricks with the flowers and the gown I did not know you were a witch,” she said. “Is that how you got yourself married?”

Elfrida shook her head. “Why the deliberate insults?”

Lady Astrid plucked a cowslip and threaded it into her blond hair. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I deal with you according to our mutual status. I am a lady. You are a peasant.”

“True, but you and your kin have a strange way of trying to win favors and of asking for help.”

The lady tore the flower from her hair. “We never beg.”

“Is a request the same as begging in your eyes?”

“You should be honored to be any part of our company.” Lady Astrid dropped the yellow blossom onto the grass. “As for the gown, it was fitting. I suggested it to my cousin. I wanted to show you as you really are to everyone.”

“Why?”

“Because your peasant arrogance offends me. But now I understand. You are a witch who has bewitched your country knight into marrying you.” She smiled and brushed the rich silk of her blue gown. “What happens when the magic wears off?”

She is a malicious fool, Elfrida told herself, but it made no difference. The scene changed. She was back at Magnus’s manor and a mass of armed and mounted knights were charging at the house. Lady Astrid materialized beside her. She wore full armor. Her chain mail sparkled in the blazing sun.

“What are your orders, peasant? How do we stop them?”

The earth shuddered beneath Elfrida’s feet and already the noise of the closing horses and men was such that she would have to shout.
What magic have I to stop these horses? I charm and weave spells to cure animals, not harm them.

An instant’s hesitation only but the screaming knights were here, slashing at her with swords and clubs.

“You have lost your lord’s home,” Astrid mocked, then the dream folded into a different space and time, a midwinter courtly dance. Tall and strong beside her, Magnus whistled the dance plucked out by the lute players and offered her his hand.

I do not know this dance
.
I know only country dances
.

“What are the steps, peasant?” Clothed in gold threaded with seed pearls, Lady Astrid passed in a scatter of rose petals and rose perfume, drawing Magnus with her. They danced to a dais. Colliding helplessly with the other twirling lords and ladies, Elfrida trailed in their wake.

By the time she had reached the dais, Magnus was already seated next to the lady. He frowned at her. “Why have you not prepared the feast to my liking?” he demanded. “These dishes are a disappointment, a disgrace.”

He indicated the bowls of stew and pottage, the simple, hearty fare that Elfrida had made since girlhood.

Magnus does not say words like disgrace. But would he ever be disappointed in me? In my narrow, local wisdom?

Learning nothing more, Elfrida started and opened her eyes.

“Good,” said Magnus beside her. “Any more of that twitching and I would have shaken you awake. You were deep in a dream, my heart, and it did not seem to please you. Did you see anything?”

Elfrida swallowed and rolled onto her back. They were lying side by side on a bed of heather and ling, with Magnus’s cloak draped over them. The horses were hidden, tethered amidst a stand of ash trees. Closer still his men crouched around a small fire and passed a flask back and forth.

“Nothing useful,” she said after a moment.
Nothing concerning Silvester or the missing girls, only my own fears mirrored back to me. And earlier I was not even able to talk to Githa. I have done nothing useful.
“Where are we?”

“Well away from where anyone will find us.” Gently Magnus dusted pollen from her forehead.

“I thought we would ride through the night.”

When Magnus said nothing, she knew at once that he had stopped because of her.
I am a weakling who slows him down
. Ashamed, she forced her aching, knotted limbs to move and sat up. “But the Percivals and the Lady Astrid know where we live and our people—”

“Never fret! Baldwin is riding to castle Pleasant with a message for Peter. He and his men will go at once to our manor.” Magnus snorted. “Doubtless Peter will think the whole matter an adventure, a chance to best the Giffords. He has never liked the family.”

She believed it. Peter of the Mount was also Magnus’s oldest friend
. And Alice, Peter’s wife, she likes me well enough, even though I am no lady.

“Piers will be at the Templars’ Highwood preceptory already. The Templars know me from Outremer. They will send men. The manor and lands and all our folk will be well protected.”

“And your own hostage?”

He gave her a piercing glance that instantly softened. “You know, lass, that I will never hurt Tancred?”

She nodded, relieved he was not angry at her for asking.

“He and the relic are safe. I spoke to Mark in secret before we set out for Lord Richard’s. I told him to make haste with Tancred and take him and the crown away from Warren Bruer, to get back to our own lands and be ready to defend them. The lad may be bored and he may feel like baggage, but he will be looked after. After all, we are striving for his bride-to-be and will recover her yet, pray God.”

She breathed more easily, although conscience made her observe, “Yet if the Percivals attack your manor, people will die.”

“Having the place stoutly defended will make them think twice. These men are cowards, believe me.”

He kissed her, a brisk
be quiet
kiss. “We have no food tonight but shall do better tomorrow. My men’s empty stomachs will see to that.”

“We cannot steal from any villages.”

“You know I do not allow that.” He kissed the back of her neck. “Roll over.”

She felt his arousal and wanted to say, “Can we not make love face to face?” but was too dispirited after her dream to suggest it. She wondered how she might explain, or at least seek comfort. “Magnus, can we talk?”

He tongued her ear. “You smell good.”

“Even though I am a peasant?”

He drew back a little, his face darkening. “No more of these foolish notions, Elfrida. I do not like them and you should not heed harpies like Lady Astrid. Look at your sister instead. Christina is happy with Walter and already with child, as nature intends for all good wives.”

Alarm galloped through her. “What are you saying?”
Am I not a good wife?
“Have I done something amiss?”

“Not so far as I know, nor would I want you to. Now hush!” He cupped her breasts, one after the other, gently circled each nipple. Her breath stopped as her body responded and he drew her even closer against himself, against his hard, full manhood.

“Magnus, what do you mean?” she whispered, afraid of his answers, afraid that he might stop his caresses.

“Later.” He flipped her onto her front.

He had been quick, masterful as always. She had given herself to him willingly and eagerly. Yet as he slept curled around her, Elfrida remained wakeful. They had not talked. Their lovemaking had been exciting and lusty, but she was uneasy.

Why am I not comforted? Why do I feel lessened?

The heart of their marriage was somehow wounded. Magnus had never compared her unfavorably to any woman, least of all to her sister. What did he mean about children and nature? What did he mean when he said she had done nothing wrong so far as he knew? Or was she making too much of her fears?
I wish my mother was alive so I could speak to her.

One thing she did know. She did not want to sleep again and dream of Lady Astrid.

Norton Mayfield looked the same as it always did when Magnus rode past the church and fields and houses. A few of his people leaned on their hoes and scythes to watch the dusty column go by but most did not. The charcoal burners and woodsmen were busy in the copse beside his house. Goodwives weeded their gardens. The carpenter repairing the shutters of the kitchen block still sawed and hammered.

“How will I feed the extra men who are coming?” lamented Elfrida, almost falling from their horse as she waved to the children who played by the church stocks. Magnus snatched her back, spurred the horse into the yard and reined in.

“More ale, bread, blankets, and washing. I must check the bath house and our stores.” Elfrida counted on her fingers as she slid from the horse. “Bandages, potions, the manor hedges and ditches. These riders need a breakfast now as well… What, sir?”

He blocked her path to stop her racing across the yard to the kitchen. “Come and eat, wife. The place is not under siege yet, nor is it likely to be.”

She crossed herself and muttered a charm, her forehead knotted. She was not like her sister, always fussing about clothes, although he half expected a complaint about that next.
Truth to say, her flowery gown still looks very well. I will not mention it unless she starts on again about how much there is to do. Scolding me then against talking of such trifles as gowns will divert her.

“I know nobles, Elfrida,” he went on as she remained silent. He watched Mark run down to the manor’s outer staircase and saluted the man as he approached. “Come into breakfast, wife, and I shall tell you why Lord Percival is not coming here, not yet.”

She looked unconvinced but went with him.

Inside the great hall Magnus discovered his hostage Tancred still at table, with Father Jerome alongside him. The pair were playing chess and picking strawberries and raspberries from trenchers.

“They have been doing that ever since they arrived,” Mark said in a low voice. “Playing that game. The lad says he does not like the food but he still eats.”

Magnus nodded. “Any trouble otherwise?”

“No, and no messengers.”

“Good! I half expected Tancred’s parents to have sent some kind of word or threat before now.”

“A younger son,” remarked Mark laconically, as if that explained everything. Or did Tancred’s father assume that the boy’s older brother, Lord Percival, would help him?
If so he is sadly mistaken
.

“Did the priest volunteer to come with you?”

“He did.”

“Where have you put Tancred’s men?”

Mark shrugged. “I left them behind at Warren Bruer but brought their horses along. They can walk here if they wish.”

“Any good horses?”

“One or two.”

“The relic?”

“Hidden with your book.”

I must look to my book again, make sure I am doing all right with Elfrida.
Magnus glanced at his wife as she spoke with one of the servers. She had lost some of her pretty summer color and a few of her freckles.
Women often sicken when they are first with child.
The thought made him hopeful and indulgent together. He beckoned to her.

“Tancred will not look at me directly,” she remarked, when she joined him and they watched the two figures at the high table.

“His loss.”

“He must hate being a hostage. And we did promise to help him. He must feel doubly betrayed, and fearful.”

“Nobles are accustomed to being traded as hostages and expect to be kept safe. It is more likely that high and mighty Tancred feels he is not being held in sufficient splendor, or by grand enough company.” He flicked a glance at her. “His aunt will certainly have told him that I am a middling country knight.”

“And that I am a peasant.”

“He had better remember you are my wife.” Magnus tucked her arm through his and escorted her to the dais. The priest greeted them while the boy managed a terse nod.

“Food first for everyone.” Magnus whistled for the servers.

For several moments the hall thronged with harvesters tramping in from hay-making and setting up the lower trestles, servers rushing in and out with flagons and bowls of pottage and the whole clinking of cups and knives as people settled down to eat.

Tancred scowled and jabbed his spoon into the central dish on the table.

“A guest does not complain about the food.” Elfrida surprised Magnus with her frankness, but he understood it when she added, “You are still our guest, Tancred. It is not our doing that you became a hostage.”

The back of Tancred’s neck reddened, but still he would not look at her.

“Your aunt is now allied to your brother for her own advantage,” she went on. “They will seek Rowena first.”

And I thought she pitied the lad. More, I thought I had to explain to her why this manor is unlikely to be attacked. She has already understood why without my needing to say a word.

“Richard will rescue me.” Staring at the table, Tancred spoke as if to convince himself. “He will come and you will be his prisoners.”

Elfrida nodded. “Your brother will not abandon you, but he and Lady Astrid will seek Rowena first. If they discover her, she will be lost to you.”

The cunning wench! She speaks to Tancred but also addresses the priest.

She shrugged. “Of course, kindred are always very strong and trustworthy. You know your family best.”