Chapter Twenty-Seven

T he next morning, Alyce rose to Gertie gently shaking her awake while Edna threw back the window covering to let in the light.

"My lady. Wake up, my lady."

Alyce blinked her eyes to clear her head from a deep, mercifully dreamless sleep. As the fog in her brain lifted, the events of the last days came flooding back, as well as the magnitude of her new responsibilities. She sat up, swinging her feet to the floor as she rubbed her eyes and gave her head a quick shake.

"Did I sleep late?" she asked, yawning.

"Not so late, my lady," Gertie said, briskly gathering her clothing and shaking out the garments in preparation for Alyce to dress.

"The king rose early," Edna warned her, leading her to a chair so she could brush and plait her hair. "He was up well before the dawn, and holding council in the hall since shortly after the sun came up. There have been messengers coming and going since before the morning meal was served."

"That sounds exhausting," Alyce muttered.

"Cook had tables set up in the yard to serve the morning meal to everyone who was not with the king," Edna continued. "She's fuming because the king's cook has taken over the kitchen. Even threw her pots, knives, and provisions right out the door to make room for his own. She had to bake bread over open fires in the yard to feed all of us."

"Oh my," Alyce said with a sigh, already feeling the weight of the coming day on her shoulders. "Thank the heavens the king brings his own cook and food, or our stores would be empty before the winter even started trying to feed his army. I will have to do what I can to cool her temper. Perhaps a few of Aelwin's men can help construct a shelter and create a usable kitchen for the time being."

She longed to see Hawk, to tell her how sorry she was for the part she played in bringing down the king's ire upon him, but would he see her? What could she possibly say that would make up for all that had been taken from him? He was once the king's most favored knight, and she'd reduced him to disgrace in front of his king and his men.

"Your face does not want to wake up." Edna pinched Alyce's cheeks. "But there is much to do today, and you do not want to give the king and queen the impression you choose the comfort of your bed over our duties."

"Oh, Edna," Alyce said, her voice heavy with dismay. "What have I done? Why did I think I could do this without Cynwulf?"

"Chin up!" The older woman chucked her lightly under her chin with a finger. "Staying in your room feeling sorry for your plight will not help you. The entire village has heard about what happened and the speech you gave to Aelwin and the guard upon your return. You made them believe, and now you must show them their trust has not been misplaced."

"But if I fail…" Alyce scrubbed her hands over her face. "If I fail, there are so many people who will suffer."

"Then do not fail," Edna said sternly.

"My lady," Gertie said hesitantly. "Nearly everyone in the village is ready to help you. The Chetwynd lords have been fair to us, even kind. We hear the stories; we know that not all lords are this way. If you do not succeed, we fear the alternatives."

"Aye," Edna agreed. "We will all help you because we know you, know what you have already done for Hawkspur, and know you will do your best for us."

Alyce took a deep breath to steady her nerves and stood. She'd chosen her path and now she must go forth and keep her promises no matter how scared she felt in private. "Let us face the day, then." She started toward the door, then stopped and turned back to Edna and Gertie. "You said nearly everyone will help me. Are there those who do not support me as liege of Hawkspur?"

"They are not many, and most of them are old," Edna said, turning Alyce by the shoulders and gently pushing her to the door. "They cannot fathom a woman as an overlord to Hawkspur, but you will soon change their minds."

"Did you tell them about Isabella Mortimer?" Alyce asked over her shoulder.

"Everyone knows of Isabella Mortimer," Gertie confirmed, excitedly. "You must prove to them she is not the only woman in the marches who can hold a castle."

Alyce nodded with determination as she opened the chamber door, stepping into the passageway. She had no option other than to face the obstacles ahead to prove she was worthy to be Lady of Hawkspur.

Hunter stood sentry at Hawk's door and Alyce stopped to face him squarely. "How does he fare today?"

Hunter widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest, but said nothing, only offering a quick nod.

It was futile to talk to the stubborn man and Alyce almost turned to leave until a voice in her head told her it was time to assert herself. She faced Hunter squarely and matched him by widening her stance and crossing her arms over her chest. Leveling her hardest stare at him, she said in the most authoritative voice she could muster, "I would like you to respond to me in words and I will not leave until I am satisfied with your answers. So, I ask you again, how does he fare?"

Hunter narrowed his gaze at her, but she thought she saw a small spark of admiration in his golden eyes. Returning his glare, she waited patiently for him to speak.

"He lives."

Alyce nodded. "I am glad of it. Does he eat?"

Hunter looked at her in surprise but grunted what sounded like an affirmation. Alyce arched an eyebrow at him, to which he sighed heavily and added, "Yes, he eats."

Alyce nodded once. "I would like to see him."

The irksome warrior shook his head at her, his lips clamped shut in a tight line.

"He doesn't want me to see him? Or you do not want me to see him?" She narrowed her eyes at him, staring him straight into his eyes, daring him to deny her.

"I do not want you to see him, my lady, but in the end, it is not my decision." His face was hard with anger.

"Then let me pass."

Again, he shook his head, and it took everything within her not to kick him.

Just then, a low groan emitted from the chamber. Alyce's eyes darted to the door and back again to Hunter.

"He will not want to see you now," Hunter said with a begrudging note to his voice. "Red is dressing his wounds."

A wave of apprehension turned Alyce's stomach as she looked at the door, but she nodded and started to turn away. She stopped mid-turn and looked back at Hunter. "I thank you, Hunter, for speaking with me. I find it preferable to your grunts."

He grunted at her in response, but Alyce thought she saw his lips twitch before she turned completely away.

*

The rest of the day was an exhausting whirlwind of making decisions, giving orders, coordinating duties, reassuring villagers, and attending to the king and queen. She still found it distasteful to be in the king's presence after what he'd done to punish Hawk, but she performed her duty and discussed the security of the castle, the loyalties of the villagers (Welsh or English), and her plans for keeping the castle out of the hands of Prince Llywelyn and his brother Daffydd.

After midday, Alyce ventured into the village for the first time since taking the lead at Hawkspur to gauge the mood. As Gertie had indicated, nearly everyone smiled, bowed in acknowledgment, and greeted her with enthusiasm. There were some who nodded stiffly or avoided her altogether. No matter, Alyce decided, not everyone approved of Cynwulf either, but he did not let that stop him.

She instructed Cook to come down to the village to request the bread baker, the tavern owner, and anyone else who was capable to make as much extra food as possible to be purchased as provisions for the castle while the kitchen was occupied by the royal cook. She stopped in each cooperating establishment to express her appreciation and offer reassurances they would be compensated for their service.

Alyce marveled at the sheer number of soldiers and servants who traveled with the king and queen. People were everywhere, filling the taverns, lingering in groups in the streets, and laying on the grassy slopes enjoying the last of the warmth from the afternoon sun.

The sound of children laughing and yelling caught Alyce's attention and she turned to see Griffin tending his sheep on the edge of the village, as usual. What was less than usual was the flock of small children squealing, giggling, and running in circles around him and the sheep.

"You have extra helpers today, Griffin," Alyce observed with a giggle of her own as she watched the five boys and girls between the ages of perhaps two and six.

Griffin bowed low to Alyce and then rose up to turn his attention back to the sheep and children. "Aye, my lady. Their mums are working extra hard with the king and queen at the castle. I'll earn a penny a day if I keep them with me during the day and put them in their beds at night. Lizzy!" he suddenly called out to one of the older girls while pointing at the ewe wandering from the herd. "Bring her back. That's the way, just push on her an' she'll turn."

Alyce watched in fascination as he made a game for the children out of keeping the sheep from wandering away. "You are a very kind and resourceful young man."

He blushed at her words, but his chest puffed, and a smile curved his lips, even as he tried to deny the praise.

"I will pay you the penny each day that you care for the children, plus one extra. Their mothers should keep their hard-earned money." She saw a little boy peek out from behind one of the sheep and then come running on his chunky, clumsy legs. When he got to Griffin, he threw his arms around his much taller legs and peered up at Alyce.

"Henry," she said, an unexpected warmth blossoming in her chest at seeing the little child again. He let go of Griffin and held his arms up to her. For a moment, she did not know how to respond, but then she reached down and picked him up to cradle him in her arms. "Hello, young man," she crooned softly. The bitter sadness that used to overwhelm her at the sight of the child was dissipating.

He reached a pudgy hand to the neckline of her tunic and traced the brightly stitched pattern of blue flowers with one of his little fingers.

"How do you feed the children during the day, Griffin?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the sweet, familiar face of the little boy in her arms.

"I go to each of their huts and find what scraps I can." His tone was easy, as though this was not an inconvenience at all for him to care for these children while also caring for himself and his sheep.

"How old are you, Griffin?" He hardly seemed old enough to be taking care of a gaggle of children. He had been orphaned several years ago and she knew John had taken him in at the tavern. He still attended the sheep, as his father did before succumbing to the flux, along with his mother. John was happy for the extra hand at the tavern and the source of fresh mutton for roasting and serving in return for providing a home to Griffin.

Griffin stood a bit taller and said with pride, "I don't really know, my lady, but I will soon be a man."

"So you will," Alyce responded with a smile. She tickled Henry's belly with her fingers as she had seen Hawk do the day they had come to the village together. Then she set him on his feet, patted his head, and gently guided him back toward Griffin.

Alyce fished a penny out of the leather pouch attached to her side and handed it to the young man. "Here is your first payment. Come to see me when you need more. And once the king and his army have moved on, I will pay you the remaining pennies I owe you for watching these children." She arched an eyebrow at him in playful warning, "And if I hear you also took money from their mothers, I will be very disappointed in you."

Griffin shook his head eagerly. "Oh, no, my lady. I would never do that. I would never cheat them that way."

"I apologize, Griffin," Alyce said, looking down at him approvingly. "I should have known you have too much honor to ever be deceitful." She was just about to take her leave when she added, "Bring the children up to the castle each day for meals. I'll let Cook know to set food aside for you if she doesn't see you and the children at mealtime."

Griffin bobbed several bows in a row, his eyes wide. "Thank you, my lady. You are so kind, and we will all be happy for the food." He turned and called to all the children, "Lizzie, Edwin, Roger, Mary, Henry!" When all the children were standing still, their eyes focused on him for their next command he said, "Look at Lady Alyce and say, ‘Thank you, my lady.' She is helping me to take care of you little scoundrels while your mothers work." He said the last with a wink and the children hid their smiles behind their hands.

All five children bobbed curtsies or bowed to her as though she were the queen, saying a chorus of thank yous, just as Griffin had instructed. She curtsied in return. "You are very welcome. Now be good and do as Griffin tells you."

She clapped a hand on Griffin's shoulder and gave it a squeeze of appreciation before taking her leave.

*

As Alyce entered the upper bailey of the castle, the queen and her ladies were approaching.

"My dear Lady Alyce," Queen Eleanor said, holding her hands wide. "Will you join me for a stroll around the grounds? My legs are in need of stretching."

Alyce curtsied. "I would be honored, Your Majesty." She matched the queen's stride and they continued to walk along the stone wall with her ladies, constant companions, directly behind them.

The afternoon sun had warmed the cooler air of the late autumn morning, making for a pleasant day. She walked at the regal woman's side, finding the moment quite unbelievable: she was escorting the Queen of England around the grounds of a castle under her command. The guards they passed stood at attention, first acknowledging the queen, and then acknowledging her in the same way they used to acknowledge Cynwulf.

Perhaps it is not so foolish to think I can do this. She stood a little taller as the thought boosted her confidence.

"May I be frank with you, Lady Alyce?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." A prickling of apprehension shivered down her spine in anticipation, and her newfound pride deflated. Any conversation that started with a request to speak freely usually did not bode well for the listener.

"I think you very courageous," the queen began, looking at Alyce from the corner of her eyes as they walked, a hint of a smile on her lips. "It takes a willful woman with a backbone of steel to stand before the king and declare herself commander of her family's fortress. Very few people are willing to speak their mind to my husband—Hawk being one of those few people."

Alyce did not know if she expected a response, and she was yet unsure if the queen was scolding her or praising her. She chose to stay quiet and let the older woman direct where the conversation was to go.

"May I give you some advice?" the queen asked. They had neared the kitchens—both the actual kitchen and the hastily constructed temporary kitchen—and she stopped to watch the flurry of activity.

"I would be honored for your guidance, Ma'am." Alyce was sincere in her response. Queen Eleanor was well respected in the realm and by her husband. She was rumored to be her husband's most-valued advisor. Any advice she offered would be welcomed.

"Your strength will be in those you find to support you. Because you are a woman, you will have more obstacles than even the most incompetent man in proving you are worthy of your position. Men step into their roles as lords and commanders with the expectation they deserve to be there. They are assumed worthy until they prove otherwise. When a woman finds herself in a position of power, she is assumed unworthy until she proves otherwise. She will start in a position of distrust and skepticism, less revered than the worst dolt of a lord."

Luc Montworth immediately sprang to Alyce's mind. He was an arrogant braggart who relied on pomp and intimidation to build himself up as a leader of men. He garnered little respect, and the loyalty of his men was directly related to the amount of coin they could expect in return. If the spoils of his questionable tactics as sheriff dwindled, would his band of enforcers abandon him? And yet, there were those who would prefer a despicable man like Luc Montworth as lord of Hawkspur over her, just because he was a man.

Alyce let out a snort of frustration before she remembered she was in the queen's presence. "I'm sorry, my queen," she said, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. "Please forgive my unladylike outburst."

The queen squared herself to Alyce, throwing her a stern glance. "Those in positions of authority do not apologize, especially for something so trivial. Never apologize unless you have truly wronged someone; then be humble about it but do not linger in the apology." She tilted her head slightly and softened the expression on her face. "Since I am being frank with you, I expect you to be frank with me in return. What garnered your grunt of dissatisfaction?"

Alyce straightened her spine and tried to imitate the queen's regal stance with her head held high and her gaze steady. "I was lamenting the unfairness of those who would prefer to see a man who is known for his cruel tactics and arrogance as lord of Hawkspur over me, purely because—" She was about to say something vulgar but stopped herself. The queen might demand frankness, but she would not excuse crudeness.

"Because of what dangles between his legs?" Queen Eleanor provided helpfully with a sardonic smirk.

"Yes, my lady," Alyce blurted in surprise.

"Fear is a powerful motivator, and men fear that a woman will not be strong enough to protect them against those who would seek to take advantage of any perceived weakness. That is why you must win the support of men who are willing to fight for what you represent. Find men you can trust, men who will not be intimidated by you, who will stand by you because they believe in you."

Hawk. Her heart pounded a rapid beat as she admitted to herself that he was the man she wanted at her side. He was the one who made her feel she could face anything. It was because he was at her side that she had the courage to stand in front of Cynwulf's garrison and proclaim herself their commander. Yet, he gained nothing by standing at her side. And it was because of her that he nearly lost everything.

Alyce pressed her lips together and clenched her teeth to hold back the flood of despair that was about to bring her to her knees. Instead, she focused on how to move forward on her own. She must be strategic in her alliances, and she must earn the loyalty of men who loved Hawkspur as much as she did.

"You will have to make difficult decisions, Lady Alyce. As women, we want to please, to never hurt anyone. Some will tell you that you must become ruthless, and must think like a man to rule effectively. And though there is some truth in that sentiment, there is also much to be gained from showing a woman's compassion."

Alyce thought about the lack of compassion shown by the king in the punishment meted out to Hawk. She sighed and dropped her gaze to the ground in front of her, praying she would be able to do what was needed when similar, hard decisions came her way.

"The trick is knowing when to show compassion, and when what you are displaying is weakness disguised as compassion." The queen reached for her hand and enclosed it in both of hers, looking at her earnestly. "When given a choice that will benefit you or will benefit Hawkspur as a whole, choose to benefit the people of Hawkspur before yourself. But, for those who would disobey your orders, who would undermine your decisions, compassion will be perceived as permission."

"I could never order someone flogged," Alyce said, bile rising in her throat. She looked pleadingly into the queen's eyes, hoping she would have an answer that did not require her to dispense torture as a punishment.

"It is not the only option and in sooth it was not the only option available to Hawk, but it is the one he chose. To him, being stripped of his position, having his army disbanded, and relinquishing a good sum of his fortune was a worse punishment than what he received."

Alyce felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs. "Saints above, the man must hate me for what I've done to him."

The queen squeezed her hand, then let go to hook an arm through Alyce's, guiding her as they continued to walk, her ladies still respectfully following at a distance.

"He definitely does not hate you," the queen said with a chuckle. "I would wager it is quite the opposite."

"How can that be, Ma'am, after all he has suffered because of my selfishness?"

"Your devotion to your brother blinded you to the truth of what you were asking of Hawk."

"He told you what happened," Alyce stated flatly. "I am so ashamed of my behavior, but in my panic, I begged him to stay with me and let Cynwulf go."

"That is not exactly how he explained it," the queen said sympathetically, "but I surmised the only thing that would cause the venerable Hawk to lose his prey were tender feelings for you."

"What have I done?" Alyce said with a sigh. "I understand now why his men look at with me disdain and will not let me see him. Why does the king not punish me for ruining his most favored knight?"

"My dear, his punishment, and his lesson, was forcing you to watch as Hawk paid the price for his decision. And as far as ruining Hawk, I would argue that is not the case," the queen said slyly. "I have urged the king to find a wife for Sir Grogan for some time now. He refused, insisting Hawk would let him know when he is ready to request an arrangement, and until then, I was to refrain from distracting him with my attempts at matchmaking." She laughed elegantly, a soft trill deep in her throat, and she squeezed Alyce's arm. "Even the king agrees Hawk has given him the sign he is ready."

Alyce stopped in her tracks. "Your Majesty, if you are saying what I think you are, it would be an injustice to betroth him to me. I am barren and will never be able to give a man the heirs he seeks." It killed her to admit the words, but she could not deceive Hawk about what a future with her would look like. They would be childless, with no heirs to carry on his name or their fortune.

"Are you convinced of that truth?" the queen asked. She leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "They may say it is the woman who is at fault when a seed does not take root, but many women have been unable to produce a babe with one man yet go on to have many children with another."

Alyce squared her shoulders and turned to look at the children lining up under Griffin's watchful eye to receive a bowl of stew from Cook. "Do you see that little boy with his hand fisted in the hem of that young man's tunic? The one with the light hair and dimples?"

The queen turned her gaze in the direction Alyce indicated with her chin. "Aye," she said cautiously.

"My husband had those same dimples, and the same fair hair with curls. And if you get close enough to see his eyes, they are the same color of green and set at the same slant as my husband's." She turned back to the queen, her chin high. "My husband spent one regrettable, drunken night with his mother and that child was the result. Five years with me and not once did I quicken with his seed."

The queen looked at the small boy for a long while. "That does complicate matters," she said with a sigh. "Hawk has amassed a small fortune of his own and will require an heir."

Alyce tried to tamp down the heat of shame that was rising in her. She clenched her teeth together and let the anger well in her instead. Others may judge her inadequate because of her inability to grow a child in her belly, but she'd refused to let it determine her worth. She might not be able to have children of her own, but her family included everyone who lived at Hawkspur, who made the village their home, protected the castle, baked bread, tended sheep, and cared for the horses. Her family was as vast as her love and devotion for them.

"It is true I cannot bear a child of my own, and I will never be a mother as you are, Your Majesty," Alyce said, her voice full of pride and devoid of shame, "and I will not have an heir to inherit Hawkspur at my death. But until then, Hawkspur is my child, and I will protect it as fiercely as any mother protects her offspring. I will love this place—" she continued, sweeping an arm to encompass the whole of the castle and village—"fortify it, safeguard it, and lead it with the same dedication, discipline, and devotion as any mother."

Queen Eleanor studied her until Alyce shifted uncomfortably on her feet, fearful she had offended her with her impassioned speech. But then she lifted an eyebrow, and a smile graced her lips. "You are a woman of singular mettle, Lady Alyce." The queen began walking again. "But without a husband and an heir, you will be vulnerable. Even if you cultivate loyal men who are willing to serve you, with no one to inherit Hawkspur after you are gone, you will be a constant target to those who are opportunistic."

"If I marry, I will be giving up my authority over Hawkspur and allowing someone else to decide what happens here, what is best for the people that I love." Alyce realized she'd begun to grind her teeth. Before she'd started this walk with the queen, she had felt she could serve as liege to Hawkspur, that the castle and people would flourish under her rule. Now she felt as though her decision was selfish, and by not marrying, she was putting Hawkspur in danger.

"Marriages, even if for political purposes, do strengthen loyalties and bonds," the queen said, her voice coaxing, though not unkind. "Perhaps we can find you a husband who has children already. Then you would have the strength of a man behind you in your bid to keep Hawkspur, and you would gain an heir."

Alyce pondered the queen's words with foreboding because she recognized the measure of truth to what she said.

By this time, they had walked the perimeter of the inner yard and returned to the main entrance of the castle. "I will take your leave, Lady Alyce," Queen Eleanor said as they entered the hall. "I am feeling the urge to see my own children after our discussion. But do think upon what I have said." The words were delivered with a smile.

Alyce curtsied to the queen. "I am honored by your candor and words of advice, Your Majesty. You are an inspiration to me in all things." She hoped her voice did not sound as wooden and flat to the queen as it did in her own ears.

"You are too kind," the queen said, tipping her head and then taking her leave with her gaggle of ladies following eagerly behind her.

The seeds of doubt had been planted where once she'd felt confident and they were weighing heavily upon her. Was she being foolish by not choosing a man to stand beside her and protect Hawkspur for the sake of those who lived here?

At one time, she'd dared to believe perhaps Hawk was the man who would stand by her side. He was a man of honor, of strength, of respect. He would not put his needs above those of the people who looked to him for leadership. But even if she had not humiliated him in front of the king, the queen had dashed her hopes when she said Hawk required an heir.

And the queen was right, of course. He needed sons of his own, and Hawkspur needed an heir to continue the legacy started by her uncle. If they were bonded in marriage, neither one of them would get what was necessary to ensure the future of their individual responsibilities.