The Innocent (21 page)

"I have a steward, an old man, who has been in the castle all of his life. He oversees everything, and is quite capable. His name is Harry. You are to do nothing but keep yourself in readiness for my lust, and be an amusing and charming companion when I so desire you to be. Harry will give you whatever you desire to keep you content."

"I want a promise from you right now," Isleen said. "Arwydd is not to be accosted by you or your men. She is no good to me with a big belly. As Clud’s niece, she is invaluable to me in more ways than just that of a serving wench. I need her, my lord. She is a clever girl. Promise me she will be left alone."

"Lift your skirts," he commanded her in reply.

Isleen did not hesitate. She raised her skirts high, revealing her naked body beneath. He knelt before her, and using his fingers to open her, began making love to her with his tongue. Isleen closed her eyes, and breathed a deep sigh of pleasure. When he had brought her to a tingling peak, he stood up and pulled his manhood from his disarranged clothes. Isleen knew what was expected without any command being made. Dropping her skirts she knelt before him and, taking him in her mouth, roused him further with her lips and tongue until he commanded her to stop. Pulling her up, he pushed her back upon the bed and, thrusting her skirts up, drove himself into her. She wrapped her stockinged legs about him, her heels beating a tattoo upon his buttocks as he pistoned her. He was a tireless lover, slowly bringing her to her crisis. Then to her amazement, for he had done so last night to her surprise, though she thought it coincidence, peaking exactly as she did. Immediately, however, he arose from her, pulling her skirts down and offering her a hand to arise.

"Tell your wench not to flirt with my men. Not even to look them in the eye, for they are a randy bunch. If she obeys you, she will be safe from my men. The only man in the castle she may trust unwaveringly is old Harry, the steward. Remember that, my pretty bitch."

"What of the three who were with you last night, my lord?"

"They will never make eye contact with you, Isleen. They know if they do they will be killed. They spent a night in paradise. Now they must forget that paradise ever existed. Did any of them please you? Was there one who stood out among the trio?"

"Only you please me, my lord,"
Isleen murmured softly.

"Especially when I strapped you, and took your bottom," he said with a wicked smile.

"Yes," she admitted. "It was exciting. Will you do it again?"

"When it pleases me, Isleen. You must learn to give pleasure to a man in as many ways as you can. And you must be completely obedient to your lord’s wishes, but I think you already are dutiful in matters of the flesh. Are you not?"

"Aye," she said.

"Raise your skirts up again," he said.

She obeyed.

"Bend over," he commanded, and again she obeyed. Taking her beneath his arm, he spanked her bottom several hard, stinging blows. Then his fingers delved between her nether lips, and he smiled a wicked smile. "You are very dutiful," he murmured as his wet fingers came about and pushed into her fundament.

Isleen squealed, and wiggled her bottom lustfully. "Oh, yes!"

"I have always told myself there is no such thing as a perfect woman, my pretty bitch," Merin ap Owen said as the two fingers thrust back and forth within her narrow channel, "but I think you may actually be perfect, Isleen."

Her body shuddered with its new release, and she sagged against him, panting.
"Ohhh,
that was good, my lord, but tonight I want your hard cock there!" He was a wonderful lover, she thought. Much better than her cousin, Saer de Bude. Still, she would not give up her plans for revenge against Eleanore de Montfort. She would enslave Merin ap Owen with her body. Perhaps he would even fall in love with her. And then she would cajole him into attacking Ashlin, into destroying everything that the little nun and her knightly husband had built up. She knew of Ashlin’s prosperity. Her father had pointed it out enough to her.

"Ranulf de Glandeville has managed to make Ashlin thrive. If you had concerned yourself with helping Richard instead of lusting after your cousin, things might have been different," Baron Hugh had grumbled. "Why they actually made a profit on their wool at the Lammas Fair. But no! You could not be bothered to be a good wife. To give your husband children. Perhaps you are barren like Saer says, you useless bitch! Now you have brought shame upon the family, so much so, that the king has ordered you punished. Well, I've finally found a convent that will take you in York. They understand the situation. You will be locked in a chastity belt, you wretched bitch, and you will work and pray without ceasing for the rest of your life! They have brown woolen robes they wear year-round. Without chemises, Isleen, in order that the itching of the wool mortify the wickedness of the flesh. You will be fed but once a day, at noon. The food is simple and wholesome. There is no wine, and little meat or cheese. And once I have left you there, my daughter, I hope never to see you again!

"But you promised I should only be incarcerated until King Stephen died," Isleen wailed.

"I have changed my mind," Baron Hugh said.

Isleen had escaped from her father’s house that night. He probably thought her dead by now, but she was not dead. She was alive, and she intended on having her revenge, even if she had to give up her immortal soul to obtain her victory.

THE WIFE

ENGLAND 1154

T
he winter passed quietly. There was more than enough food for the people of Ashlin and for their livestock. April flew by, and May first came again. On this birthday Elf was great with her child, and every little thing seemed to aggravate her. No one, even Ranulf, dared to forbid her when she decided to travel to St. Frideswide’s one mid-May afternoon.

"Do you think it wise?" the lord of Ashlin ventured in his only attempt to stop her.

Elf glared at him. "I have been cooped up here all winter, my lord. I have no one to talk to but Willa and old Ida, who fills my ears with dire predictions with every breath I draw. I will take Orva and Willa with me in case of any emergency, but there will be no emergency. I want to see my friends again!"

"The cart must be well padded," he insisted.

"Whatever will relieve your mind, my lord," she snapped.

"And you will have an escort of armed men, petite."

"Naturally."

"I am not happy that you go."

"It is unfortunate that my desire to see friends disturbs you so, my lord," she replied in acid tones.

Willa touched the lord’s arm gently and said, "Orva says a woman near her time can become cranky, my lord. The lady means no disrespect, I am certain."

"You will remember me to the abbess, petite," Ranulf said to his wife. "And to Sisters Winifred and Columba, too." He grinned at her.

"Of course," Elf said shortly.

The cart that Elf traveled in was well padded in thick wool upholstered with blue silk. It had a red-and-blue-striped silk awning over it with side curtains that would roll down in the event of a heavy rainstorm. The awning was waxed to prevent the rain’s penetration. Elf was most comfortable sitting with her legs up now. Orva and Willa rode next to the cart, which was surrounded by half-a-dozen men-at-arms. They departed Ashlin in the morning, arriving at the convent in late afternoon. The men-at-arms left them at St. Frideswide’s gate, returning home. A nun hurried forth to lead the cart horse into the cloister, its driver having departed in the company of the men-at-arms.

The cart came to a stop, its back gate was lowered, and Elf was helped down by her two women.

"Elf!" Sister Columba came running toward her friend, her dark robes flying. "Oh, Elf! It is so good to see you again!" the young nun exclaimed. She set Elf back, and looked at her. "Mary have mercy! You are huge! He'll be every bit as big as his father, I vow!"

"How I'm going to birth him, I do not know," Elf grumbled. Then she laughed. "It is good to be back," she said happily.

"Come along, and I'll take you to the guest house," Sister Columba said. "You will have it all to yourself."

"Most guests visiting St. Frideswide’s usually do." Elf chuckled. "These are my servants, Willa and Orva. Orva is the manor midwife. I thought it better I travel with her."

"Are you that near your time?" Sister Columba said, eyes wide.

"Aye," Elf told her. "I probably shouldn't have come, but I couldn't stand being boxed up at Ashlin one more moment. Then Ranulf attempted to play the lord and master. It was simply too much! Besides, I needed to see you and the others. I have not been back to St. Frideswide’s since we returned to Worcester. It’s been a year and a half!"

They reached the guest house, and Sister Columba ushered them inside. "What is it like being married, Elf?"

"Very nice," Elf told her, then turned to her servants. "Orva, Willa. Unpack my things, if you please. We will sleep in the dormitory through that door." She pointed. "Sister Columba and I are going to walk in the cloister garden. The bell will sound for the meal shortly. Listen for it." Then Elf hooked her arm through Sister Columba's, and the two young women walked outside of the guest house.

"You have grown so authoritative," the nun noted.

Elf laughed. "I have to be. I am the lady of the manor," she told her friend. "Now, let me tell you about being married. My husband is a kind man with a good heart. He is a fine lord, and our people respect him greatly. My life is a round of daily duties, very much like living here at St. Frideswide's. There is a time for planting and harvesting; for slaughtering and threshing; for making soaps and preserving foods. We have done much at Ashlin since I returned, not the least of which was restoring the manor church. We appealed to the bishop of a new priest, and Father Oswin was sent us in late autumn."

"Then, you are happy," Sister Columba said quietly.

"Aye," Elf told her best friend. "I am very happy, Matti. When I was torn from this life I believed I was to lead, and given to be Ranulf’s wife, I thought I should never be happy again, but I am. I am happier than I have ever been in my whole life."

"Do you love him?"

"Aye, I do, though I have never said it to him."

"Why in heaven’s name not?"

"Ranulf is a battle-hardened warrior, Matti. Sweet sentiment does not reside in his breast. I should embarrass him if I said I loved him," Elf said with a small smile. "What could he possibly say to me in return? We like each other, and I respect him. We have a good marriage."

"If you said you loved him, he might just return the sentiment," Sister Columba said hopefully.

"But what if he does not? I would discomfit him, and he would be abashed, for he would not harm me knowingly. Nay, it is better things remain as they are."

"I would want my husband to know I loved him," Sister Columba said firmly. "I tell our dear Lord each day of my love for him."

"But it is God you love, Matti. My love is all too human, and my husband would be quite confounded to hear me whispering sweet nothings into his ear." She chuckled.

"Eleanore."

The two young women looked up to see the abbess approaching, her hands outstretched in greeting. Elf took the Reverend Mother Eunice’s hands in hers. The abbess looked her former charge over carefully, and then she smiled warmly.

"It is as I said to you that day in Worcester, Eleanore. God has changed your fate. That you bloom with new life, and are so filled with smiles is proof in itself, although I never doubted."

"I'm afraid I did for a time," Elf replied with a wry grin, "but my fine husband won me over."

"The king, while not a wise man, is a good one. I knew he would not give you into rough hands," Reverend Mother Eunice said. "But, surely, my daughter, you are near your time."

"I am," Elf responded, "but I needed to come home again before my girlhood disappears entirely, and I find myself someone’s mother."

The two nuns laughed. "Isa did the same thing, although she was not near as far gone as you."

"Has Isa had her baby?" Elf asked. "I did not know."

"A little girl, last year, and she is again with child," Sister Columba replied.

Elf smiled.

***

For the next several days, Elf picked up her old life, attending the various religious services and helping old Sister Winifred. Her former mentor was teaching a young novice the duties of an infirmarian and herbalist.

"You have your own garden?" the elderly nun queried Elf.

"I do. I have been fortunate in that I have had only minor complaints, simple wounds, and a few broken bones to care for at Ashlin. I dread a full-blown epidemic."

"You are up to it," Sister Winifred said. "Ahh, child, how it does my heart good to see you again!"

Elf remained at St. Frideswide’s for over a week. The morning she was to depart for Ashlin, she arose, and no sooner had she done so when a sudden gush of water poured down her legs. Elf stared, shocked.
"Orva!"
she called in a strangely weak voice.
"Orva!"

"Mary, Mother of God, protect us all," Orva said, coming and seeing her mistress standing stock-still amid a puddle of fluid. Then her common sense took hold. "Well, lady, there is no help for it. Your child will be born today, and here at St. Frideswide's, it would seem." She held up her hand, seeing the question in Elf’s eyes. "Nay, there is no time to return to Ashlin. Traveling when a woman is in labor is too dangerous. The lord would kill us all if anything happened to you or the child. This place is every bit as good as Ashlin for birthing your babe, perhaps even better. Willa! Come and help the mistress while I go and tell the abbess."

Orva trotted out of the convent guest house, and made her way across the cloister to the chapter house, where she knew the abbess could be found conducting convent business. The morning meeting was just coming to an end when she hurried to the abbess’s seat of office. She curtsied.

"Yes, Orva?" the abbess said.

" 'Tis my lady, Reverend Mother. She is going to have her baby. I should appreciate some assistance."

"Oh, dear," the abbess said, momentarily disconcerted. But then she smiled a broad smile that few within her world had ever seen. "My sisters," she called out to them. "A baby is to be born here within our convent this day. Sister Winifred, please give all aid and assistance to Orva. The rest of you pray for the safe delivery of Eleanore’s child, and her safety through the travails of childbirth as well. You are all dismissed now."

"Mother?" Sister Columba spoke hesitantly.

The abbess looked at the young nun, then patted her arm. "Go and be with your friend," she said in kindly tones. "Keep us informed, Columba."

"Yes, Reverend Mother."

"I will come to the guest house with what you need," old Sister Winifred said to Orva, and she moved off.

"I'll come back with you now," Elf’s best friend said.

"Birthing is bloody work," Orva said to the nun. "You don't go faint at the sight of blood, do you, sister?"

"I don't know. I've never seen a lot of blood."

Orva shrugged. "If you think you're going to faint, just get out of the way, sister. It’s not likely I'd have time for you if my mistress is in difficult straits."

"How long will it take for the baby to be born?"

"Some come quick. Others seem to take forever. We'll need your prayers, sister."

"The others are praying," Sister Columba said quickly. "I can do more than that surely. I want to help, not stand about wringing my hands at Elf’s every cry."

"Praise be to Mary," Orva said, pleased. "I can use all the help I can get, sister. Willa, my lady’s serving wench, is young, and while she’s seen two of her brothers and her baby sister born, I need more help than she can offer."

The two women entered the guest house. Willa had not been idle. She had gotten her mistress out of her wet chemise, and put a dry one on her. Elf was now back in her bed in the dormitory while Willa struggled to pull and push the refectory table in the guest hall over by the fireplace. It would be used as a birthing table, for the convent had no birthing chair, never having needed one. Sister Columba, seeing what Willa was doing, hurried to help.

" 'Twould be better if we had a birthing chair," Orva said despairingly, "but we'll take what we can and do as best as we can. Where is the lady, girl?"

"She is resting, Ma."

Orva cuffed her daughter lightly. "You know better than to let her lie down!" She stamped into the dormitory, where Elf lay pale and nervous. "Up with you, my lady," she said briskly, and helped Elf to her feet. "Lying about will not help your child to be born.

Have you any pains yet?"

"Nay," Elf said low.

"Well, they'll come soon enough now that your waters have broken," Orva said matter-of-factly. "You must walk, lady. The sooner this child is born, the better you'll be." Putting Elf’s cloak about her, she walked her out into the hall, through the door, and into the cloister. "We'll walk together, lady, about the quadrangle. Your pains will soon begin."

"Ranulf," Elf said. "We must send for my husband."

"A man’s no use, lady, at a time like this," Orva said in practical tones. "When the child is born, then we'll send for him."

"But what if I die?" Elf voiced her greatest fear.

"It happens," Orva said, "but I don't see it happening to you, lady. You are small, but you are very strong."

They walked… and they walked. The damask rosebushes about them were coming into full, profuse bloom. The air was spicy sweet with their fragrance. It was a sunny day, and a light breeze carried the perfume of the rose to them as they traveled about the cloister. Finally Orva allowed them a rest. They sat together upon a small stone bench.

"Have you any pain, lady?"

"Not real pain," Elf said, "but I suddenly feel very, very uncomfortable in my nether regions. I feel heavy there, as if something were about to burst forth from within me."

"Let us walk back to the guest house," Orva suggested. From Elf’s words she ascertained the baby’s birth might be sooner than later.

Elf stood up.
"Owwwwwwwwww!"
She doubled over.

Orva put an arm about her mistress, and half forced her to move forward toward the guest house. Once inside she signaled to Willa, and together they helped Elf to get upon the birthing table.

"Sister, come, and stand behind your friend. Brace her so she is sitting up," Orva instructed the nun. "Lady, put your legs up, and open them for me. I must examine you now." Orva bent down, and peered hard at her patient. It was exactly as she had thought. This child was going to come quickly, and be a very easy birth. The lady was fortunate. The child’s head was just barely visible. "Put my apron on, Willa," she told her daughter, "and then bring me a basin of water and a carafe of wine. You know what I will need." Orva looked at Elf. "Lady, the heaviness you sense is your child pushing its way from your body. It is coming quickly. Do not push yourself no matter how desperately you want to until I tell you to do so." Orva stood still a moment while Willa tied a large apron about her. Then she washed her hands thoroughly first with wine, and then soap and water. "Do you have a knife to cut the cord and swaddling for the child?" she inquired of Willa.

"Aye, Ma," the girl replied.

"I have brought Eleanore herbs to dull her pain during her travail," Sister Winifred said, bustling into the hall.

"We are not going to need the herbs, good sister," Orva told the elderly nun. "This child will be born quickly. Will you remain, and help me?"