Chapter Two

“I ’ve been summoned to meet with the king,” Garrick announced to the guard standing outside his liege’s chamber.

“He’s meeting with an emissary from Merewood Keep,” one of the men answered. “You’ll have to wait.”

Momentarily confused, and at a loss for words, Garrick stood and stared. He had not dispatched a messenger from the holding. Fragments of the last conversation he had with his mother slashed through him. She had planned this, he thought. She had extracted the details of the king’s missive, remarkably showing little emotion over the possibility of losing their home. Stranger still, when he was making ready to leave, there had been a small war between their seneschal and the laborers. It was now suspect that his mother had not been available to step into the breach and handle the matter for him, as she was wont to do. Separately the events were puzzling, but when taken as a whole, the pieces fit together perfectly in the shape of a very familiar, meddlesome woman.

His mother, Lady Eyreka.

Garrick neared the wide doorway to the great hall. Though still daylight, twin torches flared and then hissed as he passed by them into the brightly lit room. The odor of herb-roasted venison and freshly baked bread filled his nostrils as he drew in a deep breath. He had the uncomfortably eerie feeling that he was being watched. Gradually, the room quieted. One by one, each and every person turned toward him and stared. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his hair. He vowed not to give any of them the satisfaction of knowing how much he dreaded being the sole focus of so many Norman nobles.

He thought of his father and the housecarls who had followed him to their deaths in the Uprising, and the brave warriors who fought by his own side, trying to stem the flow of marauding Normans who had laid siege to his home. Each and every man who gave his life for the Saxon cause was worth three of the over-dressed, over-fed nobility who stood gaping at him.

He strode through the crowd, resolving to find his mother and meet with the king, only then could they begin the long journey home.

*

“Merewood Keep is newly rebuilt,” Eyreka began. “A curtain wall of stone… acres of rich fertile soil, and a stream brimming with trout.”

“Is the well within its walls?”

“Aye, and easily defended in times of siege.”

“Is that a guess or do you know for a fact?” Augustin countered.

“The winter of 1044,” she whispered, staring into the brazier, raptly watching the flames devour a piece of wood. Augustin paced before her, his thoughts churning around in time with the beat of his heavy footfall. He needed to know more before he spoke to his beloved daughter and his loyal men; they deserved more consideration than a mere moment of thought.

Augustin continued to pace. So, he thought, she is older than she appears. If the lady had married at three and ten, as was the custom, she could be older than him. He needed to carefully assess the situation at Merewood Keep.

“If you are widowed,” he asked, “who is lord?”

He watched her eyes narrow, and he wondered if she would tell him the truth.

“My eldest son, Garrick, is lord and Jillian, his lady wife.”

“Did he rebuild? Why is he lord?”

“My son is a fierce warrior of great reputation. When no one else could capture the traitor, Harald the Saxon, the Lord of Merewood did.”

“Alive or dead?” Augustin prompted, his interest deepening.

“Alive.” Her expression changed from uncertain to fiercely proud as she warmed to her story. “He and a small band of men rode into the rebel camp undetected and took them by surprise!”

“How so?”

“He drove a wagon filled with barrels into camp, supposedly containing the ransom demanded; only each barrel contained one of his warriors.” She sat forward on the edge of the chair, waiting for his reaction.

Augustin smiled, knowing the value of employing surprise strategies, and nodded. “An impressive feat,” he conceded, amazed that a young knight would use such a clever strategy. One he himself had not yet used.

“I understand that King William plans to ensure the entire border between Northumbria and Scotland is protected by Norman strongholds.”

Augustin nodded. He knew the details of his king’s plans, but was not going to enlighten her. Once the northern reaches of this isle were under William’s rule, only the lands on the west coast, the land of the Cymry, the Welsh, would be left to be conquered. William’s invasion had been brilliant. Even the Saxon Uprisings, just three years past, had been put down. Augustin did not doubt that the King of Scotland would pledge fealty to William.

“Are you ready to ride forth and claim Merewood as your new home?” she prodded.

Her direct gaze was starting to work its way under his skin. And like a sliver of wood, it annoyed him. “I need time to consider.”

Should he accept her as wife? If he did, how would he break the news to his daughter? His daughter would balk at the thought of leaving London. He could not imagine her quietly accepting his marriage, having a new mother virtually thrust upon her. Augustin would have to carefully weigh the words he would use to sway his daughter and to graciously accept the king’s offer. Though it galled him to have no say in the matter, Augustin would accept the Saxon woman as well.

His men should be pleased to have a safe haven, even if it was not their homeland, as he had promised. Angelique would simply have to adjust. Mayhap he would ask his young cousin to accompany his daughter on the journey north, or mayhap follow along at a later date.

The door to the chamber swung open, and the king strode into the charged silence. William stood feet apart, hands fisted on his hips and asked, “Well?”

“I have yet to convince him, milord,” Eyreka said quietly. “I may need more time.”

The king shook his head. “I have decided it is a sound plan.”

Augustin could see the impatience his king held in check. Since William had already made up his mind, Augustin knew it would be useless to try to change it. “Aye, milord,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. “I am truly grateful for the offer.”

William reached out and patted him on the back. “I’ve already sent word to Merewood of my intention to install you as lord.”

“But I—” Augustin felt the words stick in the back of his throat. The Saxon woman had planned this. It wasn’t by chance as he had first thought. His direct look must have unnerved her. She flushed and refused to look him in the eye.

“I knew you would accept,” William finished, with a look of smug satisfaction plastered on his face.

Augustin nodded. It would do no good to press the woman for the truth now. He would coax it from her later.

Augustin knelt before his overlord. “My thanks.”

William nodded, waved him away and moved closer to Lady Eyreka, ignoring him completely. Augustin rose with a feeling of dread beginning to roil in his gut. His fate had been decreed as quickly as that. He would not be returning to Normandy. Mon Dieu ! Had he been used? Was there a plot afoot to ensure that he never reached Merewood Keep alive? Because of his king, and the Saxon woman and her holding, he now had two battles to wage: one with his men and one with his daughter.

He paused a moment to consider his strategy. As far as his men were concerned, he knew they would accept his decision. He always encouraged his personal guard to voice their opinions. He smiled, anticipating their immediate reaction. They would grumble, argue, and challenge him, backing their words with physical rebuttal on the training field. Augustin looked forward to the discussion.

His smile turned into a frown, thinking of his daughter. If she reacted to the upcoming move the way he thought she would, it would be far preferable to deal with the physical abuse of his men than the razor-sharp edge of his darling daughter’s tongue.

His decision made, he bowed to King William and Lady Eyreka then strode down the passageway toward the bailey, where he had left his men training.