The Copper Sign (71 page)

Baudouin has already told him everything
, Ellen thought strangely unmoved.

“You are strong, Ellen.”

From his mouth, her name sounded almost like “Alan,” and she wondered if he did that intentionally.

“I knew you wouldn’t let him intimidate you, and you never did.”

How wrong he is about me
, Ellen thought, and a wave of nausea came over her.

“Good bait catches fine fish, and to catch Thibault I needed you!” William puffed out his chest. “My feelings have rarely deceived me, and Baudouin must have realized that, too. But I did expect more resistance from Lusignan!” He grinned, sure of himself.

Bait! I was only bait!
Ellen’s head pounded. This realization was worse than a blow to her stomach, even worse than the fear she had had of Thibault. “I want to go home,” Ellen said faintly.

“Of course. I will see that you get back to England as soon as possible.” He squeezed her arm impersonally and strutted off without saying good-bye.

How was this man able to fascinate her for so many years? He had sucked the blood out of her soul and feasted on her passion like a leech whenever he felt like it, and now he had simply left, with no apology for the dangers he had exposed her to. He never even thanked her.

“I want to go home,” Ellen whispered again.

A thin, light-grey layer of clouds covered the sky when Baudouin came to see Ellen two days later to tell her about the travel preparations he had made for her.

“I wanted to accompany you myself back to England, but William needs me here,” he said hurriedly.

“Oh, he does?” Ellen’s eyes flashed with anger, and she began to berate him in bitter words. “And when he needs you, you’re always there, aren’t you? You would sell your soul for him! It was William’s idea for you to bring me here, not the king’s!”

“When he first told me, I didn’t believe you could really do something for him. Be honest, you have never lived in the king’s court. You are just a smith! How could I suspect that you were so closely involved in this matter?”

“Involved? Me?” Ellen’s voice almost cracked.

“Excuse me, I didn’t mean it that way, I just wanted to say…”

“It would be better for you to keep quiet,” Ellen interrupted. Her behavior was out of line, but she no longer cared. After all, these two old windbags owed her a lot.

“Stop and think who and what you are, dear Ellen. A smith— the best I know, and one that saved my life, but no more than that: a smith. Now listen to me and try to understand what I am telling you! William is one of the most important men in the land, probably the most important right after the king and his family. And he is my friend. Yes, if I had to sell my soul to the devil to save him, I would. But I have not done you any injustice. I know how you feel about him!”

“You don’t know anything!” Ellen replied feebly. “My feelings for William were just an illusion. I bore his son, but his heart always belonged to fighting, and the crown he serves. You know nothing about me and my feelings. I am just a smith? Not even that! I am also illegitimate, and Bérenger de Tournai was my father!”

Baudouin looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t know that… then Thibault was…”

“My half brother, yes. Just the same he violated me, and once I also carried his baby. Why did I help you? Was it love for William or loyalty to the king?” Ellen shook her head sadly. “I don’t know anymore, but it is over, and I am happy about that. All I want is to go home, and at the very least you must make sure it happens.”

“My best man and a half dozen soldiers will escort you to England at once!” Baudouin gave her a friendly look. “If I have hurt you, I am sincerely sorry, Ellenweore. I acted in good faith.” Baudouin bowed and blew a kiss on her calloused hand. “Remember me to your son. As soon as I am back in England I would like to see him, with your permission.”

Ellen nodded and sighed. As a commoner she just could not understand these knights. Hadn’t she learned that already in Tancarville?

The weather was beautiful and mild, and a warm breeze was blowing as Ellen rode into the courtyard completely unaccompanied. She had insisted on taking leave of her Norman escorts a few miles short of their arrival so she could enjoy all by herself the first glimpse of the house and workshop. Greybeard was the first to see her. He raised his weary bones and approached her whimpering for joy.

Ellen dismounted a bit awkwardly. She had been traveling for more than a month, and her belly had become quite round.

How old Greybeard has gotten since we found him back then in the bushes
, she thought fondly, ruffling him behind the ears. Then she looked around carefully and took a deep breath. Finally! Finally she was home.

She decided to go to the smithy first to see Isaac and was just crossing the yard when Rose and Marie came out of the house. She was struck by how Mildred’s oldest child had developed into a young woman during the five months she was gone. They would soon have to set out to find a suitable husband for her! Marie was chattering away and didn’t stop until Rose nudged her.

“Ellenweore!” Rose broke out in a wide smile and turned around to call to the others in the house. “Isaac, William, Jean, Ellenweore is back!” Then she hurried toward her.

For a moment, Ellen wondered why the men were not in the smithy. It was the middle of the day and dinnertime was over. Then she smiled. It was probably Sunday! Because of her long voyage she had lost all track of time.

Rose flew into her arms and hugged her tightly. “Why are you alone? Didn’t anyone come with you?” Rose looked at her anxiously.

“When we got to the old linden tree I sent them back. I didn’t want them here when I came home. Oh, Rose, so much has happened!”

“Thibault?” Rose asked fearfully.

Ellen nodded. “But it’s over, once and for all.”

“Then we have nothing to be afraid of anymore?” Rose looked at her intently.

Ellen shook her head reassuringly. “No, he got his just punishment. The Young King slew him with Runedur personally and sent him to hell.”

Rose opened her eyes wide in shock, but didn’t say anything more about it.

In the meanwhile, Isaac had come out of the house as well. Slowly, almost tentatively, as if he feared she might still be angry at him, he strode toward her.

Will came dashing out and ran toward his mother, getting there before Isaac did.

“My goodness, how you have grown!” Ellen said in surprise. After she had hugged him, she took him by the shoulders and pushed him back a bit so she could have a better look.

Will gave his mother a big smile and nodded. “The notch is this much higher than it was at Christmastime,” he said, reaching out his hand and spreading his thumb and index finger apart. The distance was considerable.

Now and then Isaac had had his son stand with his back to the door in the stable and made a notch in the wood with his knife to show how tall he was. Each time the mark was a bit higher, and Will almost burst with pride.

Finally, Will moved to the side and Isaac walked over to Ellen.

She could tell by his questioning look how concerned he was about her. “I’m fine,” she said softly and embraced him. “I’m happy to be back with you.” His familiar odor and his whispered words—“I missed you”—brought tears to her eyes.

Isaac held her firmly, but carefully.

They stood there for a while in the court in a warm embrace.

Then Jean stepped forward. “So, now it’s my turn!” He grinned and made his way to Ellen. “Let’s have a look! What a pretty little belly you have now!” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “It looks like it won’t take much longer, and you got home just in time!”

Ellen nodded and laughed with relief, but she kept looking at Isaac. How could she have had any doubts about him and think that he had been angry at her out of envy and not out of jealousy as Jean had said, when she left with Baudouin? She looked into Isaac’s eyes and could see his pride and love as well as the warmth and concern he felt for her.
He is so different from William
, Ellen thought. For the first time in her life she felt really secure. She had achieved all her goals and was now happy to be here at Isaac’s side.

When she arrived, Ellen’s belly was already so round she could no longer work at the forge and had to content herself with supervising the two apprentices. She always had objections and scolded the boys, who were intimidated by her.

“You should rest a little,” Isaac advised her gently and kissed her frowning brow.

“But I’m not tired,” she objected.

“It is almost time. You should take it a bit easier on yourself, and on us, too,” Isaac insisted in a friendly tone, lovingly stroking her belly.

“Goodness, won’t I be happy when it’s all over and I can finally go back to work,” Ellen complained, though she did leave the shop without being offended. Bored, she walked around the yard. If she went back to the house now she would have to help prepare the dinner, and she really didn’t want to do that. She was still pondering what to do when a crowd of monks rode into the yard.

The abbot himself dismounted from his splendid black horse and approached her with a serious look on his face.

Ellen noticed that he was trying very hard not to look at her belly.

“Dreadful, it’s absolutely dreadful!” he lamented. “Our Young King is dead!”

A sharp pain passed through Ellen’s abdomen and she passed out.

When she woke up later on, she was in her bed and the monks had left long ago.

“You lost your water. The child is coming,” Rose said affectionately, wiping Ellen’s forehead with a damp cloth.

“The Young King!” Ellen sighed; then the contractions became so painful that she no longer had the strength to speak. “Thibault cursed him! The curse killed Henry,” she whispered again and again.

“She’s feverish. It must have been the shock,” Rose said softly when Isaac entered the room.

He anxiously brushed the damp hair from Ellen’s forehead.

“Be strong, dearest! It will soon be over!”

Ellen tried to smile at him encouragingly. Isaac’s words had sounded like he was trying just as hard to summon up his own courage as hers. “I hope it is the son you have always wanted,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, we already have a son. The main thing is that you are well.” Isaac followed Rose into the kitchen. “I’m worried,” he whispered.

“I know, Isaac, so am I, but she’ll make it, you’ll see.”

After Ellen had been in labor for several hours, the midwife finally came. She washed her hands and then felt under Ellen’s shirt.

“I can’t feel the head.” She frowned darkly and tossed the covers all the way back in order to examine Ellen’s belly.

Rose looked on in shock.

“The child is positioned crosswise.” The old woman rubbed her hands nervously. “If I can’t turn it around, it will die!” Then she placed the palm of her right hand down below Ellen’s belly and started pushing up and down rhythmically while she prayed and nimbly fingered the pearls of her wooden rosary. It seemed to take forever, but suddenly Ellen’s belly started to roll from side to side like a ship in distress on a heavy sea.

Rose could hardly believe her eyes. The child had turned, and Ellen’s belly again looked like that of a woman giving birth and not as if she had swallowed a huge loaf of bread crosswise.

“The Lord is with you, my child!” the midwife rejoiced, patting Ellen’s cheek and crossing herself again and again.

From this moment on, the birth went faster. The contractions became stronger, and before darkness fell, Ellen had given birth to a healthy little boy.

“She’ll have to rest for a while. After all, she’s no youngster anymore!” the midwife told Isaac.

“Look, he has dark hair just like you!” Ellen whispered tenderly in Isaac’s ear while the midwife washed and diapered the baby. She didn’t tell Isaac that Will, who had brown hair now, also had a nearly black tuft of hair on his head when he was born. She was thrilled at how proud Isaac was of his son and heir. “He is all your son!” she said lovingly.

“I was so afraid I would lose you,” Isaac confessed softly.

Ellen knew he was talking not just about the dangerous birth, and she took his hand and squeezed it.

“My place is here, with you.”

“What do you think if we name the little one Henry, after the Young King?” he suggested in a soft voice.

Ellen just nodded.

Will appeared briefly at the door and peeked inside. “Come over and meet your brother,” Isaac said, beckoning to him.

Hesitantly Will drew closer. “A little bit wrinkled,” he whispered, and Isaac laughed.

“We won’t tell your mother, but you’re a little bit right,” Isaac agreed, conspiratorially.

Ellen frowned for a moment, then laughed and looked at Isaac with sparkling eyes.

But Will’s face suddenly darkened and he rushed from the room without saying a word.

The next day, when Ellen came out of the house with little Henry on her arm, Will still looked unhappy. He sat dejectedly in the yard with his head hanging down. Ellen was about to go over to him when Isaac came running toward her, smiling.

“Were you coming to see me?” he asked excitedly. He kissed her forehead and then turned to his son. “See how tightly he holds my finger!” He looked at his son with delight and proudly pointed to his little fist.

Will stood up abruptly and stomped by them furiously.

But Isaac took him by the arm and pulled him back. “Hey, my son, are you all right?”

“He is your son, and I’m not!” Will shouted at him, pointing to little Henry, and his eyes filled with angry tears.

“Even if I’m not your father, you are still my son and never— do you hear, never!—think I don’t love you just as much as your brother. Do you understand?” Isaac was still holding the boy by the arm, looking at him intently.