Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

St. Idloes

E olande was heading for the common area next to the chapel, the one that was outside the cloister and away from the dorter where the nuns slept. She was moving swiftly, and with a purpose, as Mother Mary Moria had just come to her as she worked in the chamber where the oblates sewed their lace shawls.

Your brother is here , Mother Mary Moria had told her. See to him at once .

It was later in the day, the same day that Grier had been taken away, as Eolande made her way through the damp cloister, through the lay gate that led to the yard behind the chapel. It was an open area where male visitors were kept, one that her brother always used when he came to visit her. It was the same place they used for travelers, permitting them to camp in the area, so it was a well-used space. As Eolande came through the great iron gate, she immediately spied Davies standing near the chapel.

Dressed in a heavy tunic to his knees, breeches, and boots, and with a dark green cloak resting upon his shoulders, Davies ap Madoc turned to see his sister coming towards him across the muddy yard. A tall man, sinewy, with black hair and black eyes, he quickly made his way towards her.

"Is it true?" he demanded.

Eolande's movements slowed. She knew exactly what he meant and her heart sank. "Is what true?"

"About Grier. Is she gone?"

"Who told you?"

Davies reached her. "It does not matter who told me," he said. "Is it true?"

When he reached out to grab her, she yanked her arm away. "It matters, Davies," she said, suspicious and unhappy. "You always know what is happening here. You are paying someone to send you information. Well? Who is it? If you do not tell me, I'll not tell you anything at all."

Davies stood his ground, but he knew that butting heads with Eolande would come to no good. It never had. She was stubborn, his little sister, so he eased his stance. If he wanted the information he'd come for, then arguing with her wasn't going to help.

He had to treat her carefully.

"I pay local men to watch the comings and goings of the abbey, and relay to me any information of note," he said. "There is nothing wrong with that. I would be foolish not to know what was happening in my own lands."

It was more than that, and they both knew it. "Then if you already know what has happened, why are you asking me?"

She was being annoying about it and Davies struggled to keep his temper in check.

"I was told that early this morning, a large contingent from Shrewsbury came and took Grier away," he said. "Well? Why did her father take her away?"

So he doesn't know all of it , Eolande thought with surprise. He only knows that Grier was removed, but not why. Even so, there was no use in keeping any of it from him, because he'd find out eventually. Davies was the nosy sort and he always had been. As he'd said, he paid men to watch the abbey for him. He had men all over the area watching roads, or towns, and reporting back to him. And as he'd reminded her, these were his lands. At some point, he'd probably try to find out why Grier was taken back to Shrewsbury simply because he'd been obsessed with Shrewsbury's heiress since nearly the first time he'd met her.

Therefore, for her brother's sake, Eolande knew she had to tell him the truth.

"It was not her father who came to take her away, Davies," she said, reining in her snappish manner. "It was the new duke. Her husband."

Davies' eyes widened in an instant. "Her husband?" he sputtered. "She married ?"

Eolande nodded. "Her father died last month," she said. "He betrothed her to a man of his choosing, although I do not know who he is. All I know is that he came to St. Idloes and married Grier this morning. Then, he took her away."

Davies stared at her, clearly stunned. For several long seconds, he simply looked at her as if unable to comprehend what he'd been told. But in that shocked expression were hints of grief and anger. The woman he wanted for his own had been taken by another.

He could hardly believe it.

"Married," he muttered again. "She is married."

Eolande nodded, knowing her brother was shaken by the news. She could see it in his eyes; the light that was often there, that light of spirit and vibrancy, was dulled. In spite of Grier's father refusing Davies' proposal of marriage, she knew he still held out hope that he would have her someday. But that hope was now ended.

She felt pity for him.

"She is," she said, more gently. "Davies, you must forget about Grier. She was never meant for you. Now that she is married, you must forget her. You must find another wife, someone worthy of the Lords of Godor."

He looked at her, but it was a look of displeasure. "You think I can forget about her so easily?" he asked. "I have tried, Landy. Why do you think I stopped coming to visit you? It was because I could no longer bear to see Grier. God knows I tried to forget about her, but I cannot."

It was starting to mist now, a faint sheen of water coming out of the sky and blanketing the land. Wearing her woolen garments, Eolande wrapped her arms around her slender body, trying to stay warm as she faced her devastated brother.

"You must," she insisted softly. "Whoever Grier is married to now is the Duke of Shrewsbury and commands a bigger army than anything Godor can muster. He will not take kindly to a man pining over his wife, and would you truly shame the woman so by challenging her marriage? Papa would not let you do that."

That was true. Madoc ap Iowerth was the Lord of Godor, a powerful Welsh warlord, but a man who had grown soft in his old age. It was Davies who kept their vassals in line, or who made decisions that would affect them all. Davies had grown up admiring his father but since that fateful day when he went to Shrewsbury to plead for Grier's hand, all Davies could feel was disappointment in the man. When Davies had needed him most, he'd failed him.

It was something he'd not forgotten.

"If you are referring to that weak man who fathered us, then he has no say in what I do," he said grimly. "All he does is sit before the fire these days and complain that his bones are cold. Beyond that, he does nothing that would bring honor to the lordship of Godor."

"And you do?" Eolande fired back softly. "Do you think challenging the Duke of Shrewsbury for his wife is honorable? He will destroy you, Davies, and rightly so."

Davies wiped the water out his eyes. "Who said anything about challenging her marriage?" he said. "But I will go to Shrewsbury to see who she has wed. If she did not wed me, then I must satisfy my curiosity that she married a worthy man."

But Eolande shook her head. "It is a terrible intention," she said. "Nothing good can come of it. Why would you torture yourself? It will only hurt you."

Davies could hear the concern in her voice. Little Eolande, his beloved sister. It was that concern that caused him to second guess his intentions, but his obsession with Grier would not be sated. It had long surpassed attraction; obsession was exactly what it was these days. Grier consumed him and had for a long time. He looked at his sister.

"Dear Eolande," he said, the twinkle of vitality back in his dark eyes as he looked at her. "You have always been concerned for me."

She nodded eagerly. "Of course I am."

He smiled sadly, putting a hand to the side of her head. "As I am concerned for you," he said. "Even these days as St. Idloes knows only poverty, there is not much I can do for you, although I wish there was. Everyone is suffering from famine in these lands. So many crops have been blighted, and even Papa and our men suffer from hunger. It is as if we are all cursed these days."

Eolande shrugged. "At least we have grains," she said. "We are able to eat, but our bellies are not full because there are many mouths to feed. And you? How are you faring, Davies? I have not seen you in some time."

Davies dropped his hand from her head. "I am well enough," he said, his gaze moving across the gray landscape. "But there is a restlessness among the men. They are tired of being hungry. They want food and they want to fill the bellies of their families. There has been talk of raiding villages on the Saesneg side of the Marches, and I know for a fact that some have already tried. Our people are hungry, Eolande."

She could sense something in his words, something ominous. "What are you saying?" she asked. "The Marches have been mostly quiet for one hundred years, Davies. Will starvation motivate our people to go to war against the Saesneg again?"

He lifted his shoulders. "Possibly," he said. "We have little money; how are we to buy food? I fear we must take what we can for our own survival, and Shrewsbury is the largest town this far north. They have a market center and trading."

Eolande frowned. "It is also where Grier is."

"A coincidence."

Her frown grew. "Is it? You sound as if you have already decided to raid Shrewsbury. Mayhap to punish them for taking Grier away from you?"

Davies looked at her. "I do not know for certain that we shall raid Shrewsbury," he said honestly, "but I do know that Grier is there. For my own sake, I must see this man she has married. I must see who took the woman I wanted. Mayhap that is my only business in Shrewsbury, but mayhap not. That is for me to decide."

Eolande shook her head. She didn't think any of this was a good idea. Not only was Davies obsessed with Grier, he was also thinking on raiding Shrewsbury because the vassals of Godor were starving. It was adding up to a very bad situation.

"Davies," she said quietly. "I can see that you will not listen to me when I tell you to stay away from Shrewsbury, so all I will say is be cautious. Whatever you do, take great care. I should not wish to lose you."

"You will not," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "I will come to see you again, very soon. But before I go… tell me one thing, Landy."

"What?"

"Did Grier ever speak fondly of me? Was I on her mind as much as she was on mine?"

Eolande didn't want to hurt him, but she thought that if she told him the truth, he might stop obsessing over Grier. Perhaps, it would be enough to discourage him and even keep him away from Shrewsbury. Somehow, she didn't think so, but she had to try.

"Nay," she said after a moment. "She never gave you a thought."

Davies face fell and the glimmer in his eyes dimmed. It had been a difficult truth for him to hear.

"I see," he said, turning away from her. "Thank you for telling me."

Eolande watched him walk away. "That would make going to Shrewsbury to see her a waste of your time, Davies," she called after him. "She would not care."

Davies kept walking, but he lifted a hand to acknowledge that he heard her. But still, he kept walking, disappearing around the side of the chapel.

When he was out of sight, Eolande turned for the lay gate that led back into the cloister. Truly, she hated to hurt his feelings, but it was for the best. He needed to know that whatever he felt for Grier was unrequited. She'd thought he'd already understood that, but evidently not. Davies was prideful and stubborn; perhaps, he still believed there was a chance. No man liked to face a rejection of the heart.

Opening the old iron gate and listening to it creak on its hinges, all Eolande could think about was her foolish brother and her dearest friend, wondering if Davies would truly be foolish enough to go to Shrewsbury. If it was for a raid, or if it was to see Grier, either reason was dangerous.

She only had one brother.

She didn't want to lose him.