Enchantress Mine (39 page)

Egbert the bailiff sought among the cottages for new kitchen helpers. He took younger girls than he normally might have for simpler tasks, and promoted other servants earlier than he usually did. They would need everyone they could get. The responsibility of feeding the vast army of workers needed to build the castle was a great one.

Weorth, the miller, added two young boys to his staff, and ground extra grain daily into flour. He couldn’t remember ever having worked so hard. Aelfleah had always been a quiet, peaceful place. His responsibilities, inherited from his father who had once been Aelfleah’s miller, had always been minimal. Now he worked from dawn to dusk falling into his bed so exhausted that his young second wife complained bitterly that he was neglecting her.

Byrd, the manor baker, a little wiry man whose mother had been a wild Welsh hill girl, ruled the ovens with a twinkling eye and a merry jest for everyone. The extra work was no burden for him for he loved being busy. Covered in flour up to his elbows he worked kneading the dough into loaves, whisking them to the ovens to bake and out again when they were done. Then his helpers would trek the bread up the hill to the building site where the camp cooks were busy over their fires, and glad to see Byrd the baker’s loaves which were tasty and filling.

Then almost overnight the winter was gone, and the land began to quickly green. Master Gilleet and his staff began to design the castle while the moat was being dug. It was not to be a large castle for Josselin de Combourg was not a great lord. Its main purpose was one of defensive vigilance although there would be comfortable living quarters designed within the castle for the lord and his family. Although Mairin resisted the idea of eventually leaving the manor house the thought of living again within a castle was intriguing. It seemed a long time since Landerneau.

The king returned to Normandy in March taking with him those whose presence might encourage rebellion. Namely young Edgar the Atheling, Waltheof, the Earl of Northampton and Huntingdon, and the brothers Earls Edwin and Morkar. He left behind him as co-regents his brother, Bishop Odo, and his seneschal, William FitzOsbern, whom he newly created Earl of Hereford. The bishop would rule southeast England as far west as Winchester. FitzOsbern would oversee the Midlands from the marches of Wales to Norwich. Northumbria was to be overseen by a thegn named Copsi who had been a relative of the Godwin family. The southwest of England had not yet submitted to William, and was still loyal to the dead Harold Godwinson whose mother and sister were residing in Exeter.

As the days grew longer and warmer, Aelfleah’s peasants were able to work the fields which were planted in barley, oats, wheat, and rye. The orchard flowered profusely in a copious haze of pinkish-white blossoms. Within
The Forest
the streams ran swiftly, and completely free of ice. Taking her basket into the woods Mairin found marvelous large mushrooms which she brought home, instructing the cook to cook them with oil, pepper, and some of their precious salt. This way the mushrooms could not give rise to the illnesses that encouraged black bile.

Then it was summer. The grain stood tall and began to ripen. A messenger from the north sheltered with them one evening and told them that Copsi had been murdered by Oswulf, the son of the ex-earl of Bernicia, in a feud that dated back between Godwin’s family and the old Northumbrian ruling house. Then came a summons to Josselin to come with his men and aid the king’s brother. Eustace of Boulogne, a Picard, had seized Dover Castle, and was holding it against Bishop Odo.

Mairin burst into tears. “No!” she said. “You cannot leave me now. I am with child!”

Josselin’s face almost split itself with a grin. Lifting her up he swung her about with a joyous whoop. “That’s wonderful, enchantress! When? Are you certain? Why didn’t you tell me before?” He set her down, kissing her nose as he did so.

“I am only just sure,” she sniffed. “You won’t go, will you?”

“Of course I must go. Bishop Odo is the king’s brother, and I am the king’s man as well as his friend, Mairin. Certainly I will go, but it is unlikely that I will be gone for long. You have your mother, and you are safe here at Aelfleah. When is my son to be born?”

“
Your son?
It could very well be a daughter, my lord! Our child will be born in February.” She gave a small chuckle. “I should give birth at the same time the ewes are lambing.” She snuggled against his chest, rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his tunic.

He enclosed her within the circle of his embrace, and his lips brushed against a soft tendril of her hair that had escaped her coif. “If it is a son we shall work to make a daughter. If you give me a daughter, then we will endeavor to make a son the next time.”

She thought about his words in the weeks that followed, and she found them comforting. She wanted a large family, and she knew that he did also. They had talked about it often in the dark of many nights while snuggling together within their curtained bed. The part of her that was coolly logical knew that if they were to prosper in this new England then Josselin must be not only loyal, but he must be outstandingly so. It was within the king’s power to create a peerage, and if Josselin could earn such an honor by his usefulness and his loyalty, then there would be more for their children.

There would be the castle for their eldest son, and father’s title. Aelfleah would go to their second son. The third son could have Landerneau if she could get it back. She had never considered reclaiming her inheritance in Brittany, but the child growing within her had suddenly made her mindful of the importance of a man having possessions. She remembered the king’s surprise when she had said she didn’t want Landerneau. She knew he thought her foolish. The child now growing beneath her heart made her think differently.

Her father’s estate was rightfully hers, and Blanche’s daughter had not the legal right to it. It was true her half-sister was as much a victim as she herself was. Of late she had for the first time in her life seriously considered what her half-sister might be like. Putting her mind to it she had seen a sweet-faced child with their father’s russet hair. Each time she concentrated upon it she saw the child kneeling in prayer, and once the little girl appeared to her in the garb of a religious. It came to Mairin that the unknown child who was her half-sister wanted to be a nun.

Concerned that she might be overruling her instinct with her personal desires, she asked Dagda to cast the rune stones for her. Each time the answer was the same. The fate of Mairin’s half-sister was with the church, not in marriage. Her conscience clear, she resolved to regain her lands in Brittany. She would see her half-sister had a decent dowry so she might enter the convent of her choice, but Landerneau belonged to her! It was her inheritance for her children!

Having settled in her mind the three estates upon her three nonexistent sons, Mairin decided her fourth son would be for the church, as well as one daughter. The other girls would be married off most advantageously due to their father’s position, wealth, power, and his place in the king’s favor. It was a wonderful daydream with which she entertained herself during the long and lonely nights Josselin was away aiding the king’s brother in his efforts to retake Dover Castle from the troublesome Eustace.

The long summer days slipped by pleasantly. At the castle site the surveyors under the guidance of Master Gilleet had marked off the locations of the castle walls and its towers. The digging of the foundation was well under way. The quarrymen had opened up an excellent location where they might quarry stone for the project. The stonecutters were already shaping the large blocks of dark gray rock that were to be used.

The grain was being harvested. The hay had been cut, and was drying on its racks in the fields. The cattle and the sheep in the meadows were fat with good grazing, and in the orchards the trees were bent almost in two with a bumper crop of fruit. Looking upon it all Mairin felt the quiet contrast between this bountiful and beautiful summer, and the year prior when they had all been awaiting the outcome of Harold Godwinson’s rash behavior.

Then one day a peddler arrived at Aelfleah, and told them of a rising on the border just over the hills by a thegn named Eadric the Wild. That night in Dagda’s company Mairin ascended the hill to the castle site. Together they watched until dark when they could clearly spot the campfires of the rebel forces.

“Their direction should bring them straight to Aelfleah,” noted Dagda grimly. “Rebels like that usually destroy everything in their path. Why are they doing this? Who the hell would they put on the throne in place of King William? There is no one else!”

“How long will it take them to reach us?” Mairin asked, sounding calmer than she actually felt. For the first time in memory Aelfleah was in danger. She had married Josselin because the manor needed a lord to protect it. Now that they were at risk, where was he? At Dover protecting the king’s rights! It would be up to her to see that Aelfleah was defended.

“Two days, three at the most,” he answered. “It depends upon how much they enjoy their work.”

“We must harvest everything we can, and hide it, Dagda. If they burn the fields, the manor people, not to mention all the workers we have here for the castle, will go hungry this winter. Damn! If Josselin were here we might fight them off, but he has taken all of his men with him. We are left with nothing but serfs. We might escape the carnage but for this damned castle site! Did I not warn him about that? It’s like a beacon drawing our enemies onward!”

“The castle is a good idea, and it is necessary,” he said bluntly, and she looked at him, surprised. “Listen to me, my lady Mairin. England’s days of innocence are gone. So are the days when this manor lay secreted and unnoticed in our hidden valley. The castle will protect Aelfleah, and few would dare to attack us if it already stood upon these heights.” He took her by the arm to steady her. “Come! We have little time in which to prepare for our
guests.
”

They stopped at the workman’s quarters where Dagda quickly and thoroughly explained to all the assembled men the danger which would soon be upon them. Then he turned to Mairin, giving her the floor, for as the lady of the manor with her husband away, she was the only authority figure they had.

“I want no unnecessary blood spilled,” she told them. “Each of you master craftsmen is to gather his men together, and I will see you hidden so that no harm comes to you. When Eadric and his rebels come they will find nothing to threaten them. You will stay hidden until the danger is past. We value the skills that each of you possesses far too much to endanger any of your lives.” Then Mairin repeated her speech in French so that the stonemasons might also understand her, and know their position. “I will also need your help tomorrow in the fields,” she continued. “If we are to save our harvest in so short a time I will need every available pair of hands. If they destroy the crops, how will I feed you all this winter?” She smiled sweetly at them, and there was not a man within the room who did not silently vow to follow her into hell and back if necessary.

As soon as the faint gray light of morning began to brighten the skies the next day, all the people of Aelfleah streamed from their homes, and went into the fields to harvest the grain that had not already been cut. Most of the workers were city men who knew little about farming, but, their very survival at stake, the castle workmen learned quickly from the serfs who were happy for even inexperienced hands to help them. Both Mairin and Eada worked beside their people encouraging them onward.

Egbert the bailiff saw that the castle, horses, and sheep belonging to the manor were herded into groups, and driven off to more hidden locations within
The Forest.
There had been no serious danger to Aelfleah since her grandfather’s time, but Egbert recalled the old man’s tales of how the Northmen had once swept inland up the Wye and Severn rivers, where they then anchored their longboats and ravaged the surrounding countryside. So impressed was he by these remembrances that he even managed to find hiding places for the poultry and the doves in the dovecote.

The castle workmen could give Mairin only a day and a half ’s labor before she sent them to hiding places in the stone quarry and deep within
The Forest.
The young women belonging to the manor who were not yet married were sent off to a nearby convent for safety’s sake. Mairin sought to avoid the rape of the women that might easily occur given the temptation of pretty faces.

Shortly after dawn on the third day Eadric the Wild and his men stormed the western hills, firing the barracks and the workshops at the castle site as they came. The manor gates were open to Eadric for Mairin had no intention of even attempting a resistance. Indeed she greeted him at the door to the house, gowned in a soothing blue, her glorious red-gold hair braided, a demure white veil upon her head.

“Given the reputation which precedes you, my lord Eadric, I cannot welcome you to Aelfleah, but neither do I deny you entrance,” Mairin said boldly.

Eadric the Wild, a big man with a thick beard and shoulder-length brown hair, looked down from his horse upon the beautiful woman. He felt to remain seated upon the big beast which added to his height would give him an advantage. Mairin’s cold words, however, disabused him of any notions of frightening her. He took a moment to appraise her, and staring back at him Mairin thought she had never seen such icy blue eyes.

“You are Mairin of Aelfleah?” he growled at her as he slid from his mount.

“I am.”

“What are you building upon the crest of the hill?”

“A castle,” she answered him.

“Why?” The cold eyes betrayed no emotion, not even the curiosity his words proclaimed.

“To keep the king’s peace,” she said.

“Which king?” he snarled.

“There is only one king of England. William.”