Enchantress Mine (41 page)

His loving words heartened her. “We will begin at once,” she said, “and we will work very hard to gain our goal, my lord.”

“Yes, Mairin, we will work very hard,” he agreed, a smile upon his face.

“We’ll start tonight!”

“You most certainly will not!” said Eada. “You will need several weeks’ rest to rebuild both your strength and your poor injured body, my daughter. Surely you understand, Josselin.”

“I will abide by your wisdom in this matter, mother,” he replied.

“Josselin!” Mairin protested.

“Do you want more lost babes, my daughter? That is what will happen if you do not allow yourself time to heal.”

Mairin pouted, but Josselin said, “This matter of Eadric the Wild has caused us to fall behind with the castle. I will have to spend the next few weeks personally overseeing the renewal of construction if we are to have the outer walls half-finished by winter. We shall be able to work except on the coldest days.”

“And what am I to do while you are busy with your castle?” grumbled Mairin.

“Get well enough to bear our children, and oversee the manor as you have been, enchantress,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “When you are well enough I intend keeping you very busy of the nights until our labors show signs of bearing fruit once again.”

Mairin smiled, and lay back against her pillows. She was content now. “My mother,” she said, “has raised me to be a dutiful wife, my lord. It shall be as you so desire.”

Eada snorted. “Hummmmph,” she said, and then they all laughed.

In the weeks to come Josselin involved himself in the serious business of building his castle. Master Gilleet had been highly recommended, and his plan for Aldford, as the castle would be called, was a sound one. The most important concerns for Aldford were that it be able to resist attack, and withstand siege. With this in mind the castle site chosen was perfect, an outcropping of solid rock that overlooked Wales to the west.

The castle was to be constructed so that its northwest walls rose above the sheer cliffs upon which the entire structure was to be placed. It made that side of Aldford virtually impregnable to attack. The outer walls of the castle, called the outer curtain, measured one hundred and fifty feet on each of its four sides. They stood twenty feet in height, and had rounded towers placed at strategic intervals that rose an additional ten feet above the outer walls. Between the outer curtain and the inner curtain, which were the walls of the castle structure itself, was a courtyard called the outer ward.

There was to be but one entry point into Aldford. Along the outer curtain walls that faced down into Aelfleah’s valley a stout wooden ramp would be constructed across the moat leading through U-shaped gatehouse towers into the outer ward. A heavy timber grille called a portcullis was set between the towers of the gatehouse. It could be raised or lowered to open or to bar admittance through its passage. The entry to the outer ward could only be reached by a narrow winding road that had been worn over the years into the side of the hill upon whose crest Aldford was being placed. The entire road would be visible from the castle’s watchtowers. The road was to be slightly widened, and improved.

The walls of the inner curtain being the walls of the castle itself were seventy-five feet in length on either side. Unlike the walls of the outer curtain which were but eight feet in thickness, the walls of the inner curtain were twelve feet thick. They stood thirty-five feet high with towers that soared to fifty feet. The added height of these walls allowed defenders on the tops of the walls to fire over those men guarding the outer walls. There were walks and staircases along both curtains that connected each section of the structure with the others. A low wall edging the curtains called a battlement would protect anyone walking upon the walls from attack.

The castle building was constructed around a quadrangle called the inner ward which was accessible only through the U-shaped inner gatehouse which was also fitted with its own portcullis. At each corner of the building was a square tower. There was to be a Great Hall in the castle as well as apartments for the lord’s family, the bailiff and his family, and the cook and his family. The kitchens would be located next to the Great Hall. There would be barracks for the castle’s garrison and stables for the horses. There would be a mews containing the dog kennels and a place for the falcons. The well was to be dug within the inner ward so that it could not be poisoned by an enemy, and there would be a blacksmith’s shop as well.

It would take several years to complete Aldford Castle, and Josselin knew that the partially built structure would be quite vulnerable until well after the king had completed his conquest of England. There were yet troublesome and repeated rebellions springing up like small brushfires all over the land. Each one of these insurgencies had to be put down, and the two co-regents were kept busy. Members of the Saxon nobility foolish enough to still believe they might overcome William of Normandy found their estates confiscated, and were forced to flee for their lives.

The king returned from Normandy on December 6th. He immediately laid siege to the city of Exeter. The thegns of Devon had long since given their submission, but Exeter held out for eighteen days, finally agreeing to accept William provided they could retain all their former privileges. Gytha, Harold Godwinson’s mother, and her daughter left England. Of Harold’s wife, Earl Edwin’s sister, and her children by Gryffydd of Wales there was no trace. They seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. William then marched through Devon, Somerset, and Cornwall accepting submission from hitherto rebellious thegns.

In the west Eadric the Wild came over the border from Wales to once more harass the English both old and new. This time he steered well clear of Aelfleah concentrating his unfriendly attentions upon Hereford until he was firmly driven off back to his own lair. The eleven-year-old Edgar the Atheling with his mother, Agatha, and his elder sisters, Margaret and Christina, fled north, and sought refuge with King Malcolm of Scotland.

Winter gripped the land with especial ferocity that year. The inhabitants of Aelfleah kept to the indoors huddling about their fires. Little work could be done on Aldford, but on the days that the wind did not howl too bitterly the half-finished walls of the outer curtain were filled carefully with rubble, a mixture of stones and mortar. Provided there were no serious delays the work would go faster in this new year.

Easter fell on the twenty-third of March. Soon after, a royal messenger arrived at Aelfleah. He appeared suddenly upon the crest of the eastern hills one day, and galloping down the narrow road he raced across the icy little river and through the gates of the manor with elaborate flourish. The workers in the fields stared goggle-eyed. Dismounting his horse he looked disdainfully about him, but his mouth fell open in slack-jawed wonder as Mairin appeared in the entry of the house.

“I . . .” He swallowed hard, then remembering who he was he drew a deep breath. “I come from the king for Josselin de Combourg.”

Mairin smiled, and forced back a chuckle. How often in her life had she seen the same silly look upon male faces. “You are welcome to Aelfleah,” she said showing far more composure than she actually felt. “My husband is at the castle site, and I have sent for him. Come in, and have refreshment. You have obviously traveled a long way.”

The messenger, who was no more than fourteen, stumbled after her to again be surprised as he entered the house. Inside it was every bit as elegant, if not more so than any Norman noble’s home in which he had been. His hostess seated him before the fire, for which he was grateful, it being a chilly day. She herself poured him a goblet of wine. Thirstily he gulped at it.

“I am the lady Mairin of Aelfleah,” Mairin said.

Quickly the boy put down the goblet flushing as he did so for he had shown appallingly bad manners by not introducing himself before he entered the house. He stood saying, “Your pardon, my lady, I am Robert de Yerville, a page in my lord William’s service.”

“Then welcome again, Robert de Yerville.” Mairin smiled at the boy. “Have you come all the way from Winchester?”

“Yes, my lady.”

There was a long silence in which the boy shifted uneasily, and Mairin finally said, “My husband should not be long in coming.”

Josselin arrived almost before the words were spoken, much to her relief. “Robert de Yerville! You have grown, lad! Why, you must stand close to six feet,” Josselin said by way of greeting.

“Just an inch short of it, my lord,” the boy answered, breaking into a grin, and obviously pleased that the lord of Aelfleah had noticed his growth. Then he became serious. “I bring you a message from the king,” he said, reaching into his tunic and drawing out the rolled parchment which he handed to the older man.

Josselin broke the seal upon the message, and unrolling it spread it upon the table to read. “The queen is due in England at any minute,” he said aloud. “She’s to be crowned on Whitsun at Westminster. We’re invited, Mairin, Eada too if she wishes to come.”

“No thank you,” said Eada, having overheard as she entered the hall. “You will tender my regrets to the king, Josselin, but I have no desire to do any more traveling than I have already done! Besides if you are going to the queen’s coronation it is bound to be a splendid affair, certainly more so than was the king’s. Mairin must have new and beautiful clothing so she will not shame you. We have scarcely over a month before you are due in London. There would be no time to make clothes for us both. I am content to remain at Aelfleah.”

“Oh, mother, you must not! When will you ever again be invited to a coronation?” Mairin protested.

“Mairin, my mind is made up. You will not appear this time amid a group of battle-weary men for whom the sight of any female is pleasing. You will be amongst the high and the mighty of King William’s court. This time there will be many women. They will all be splendidly dressed and coiffed, and ready to judge all other women. You must not shame us. How you look and behave will help Josselin to gain new honors. You want that, don’t you?”

“Why are you always right?” Mairin demanded teasingly.

“Because I am your mother,” returned Eada calmly, but her blue eyes were twinkling.

Robert de Yerville stayed with them the night before going toward Worcester to tender the king’s invitation to other nobles and their families. William adored his intelligent and strong-willed wife, and he wanted her coronation as Queen of England to be a magnificent spectacle.

“I have worried that we would not be able to use all those wonderful materials we brought from Byzantium before they were ruined,” said Eada. “It pleases me that you will be an excellent representative of our people amongst the great of King William’s court. Your father would be proud, I know,” said Eada.

The two women set to work to create Mairin a wardrobe worthy of the occasion. Josselin had decided they would be in London for several days, and so Eada determined that her daughter would need a full dozen changes of clothing, but Mairin overruled her.

“I do not wish to draw undue attention to us, mother,” she said. “As it is, the marvelous fabrics we are using will be envied.”

“You are every bit as good as any Norman lady!” huffed Eada. “You were a princess of Byzantium.”

“I am no longer, mother. I am but the wife of a simple knight which is just what I prefer to be. If we plan carefully I can interchange the tunics and the skirts which will make it appear as if I have more clothing than I actually do. Besides it will be difficult to transport too great a wardrobe.”

Josselin agreed with his wife. It was wise to keep the knowledge of what they possessed to themselves, and not arouse undue curiosity about Aelfleah. It was decided that Mairin would take but five tunic dresses: two, a violet and a pale dove gray each with gold woven into the fabric, would be of brocatelle, a brocade-like fabric with a more highly raised pattern. Two would be made of silk—one of indigo blue with silver embroidery at the neck, sleeve cuffs, and hem, the other a cheerful plain yellow; the last tunic dress was of a turquoise lampas which was a patterned damask-like fabric.

There would be an equal number of skirts. One of cloth of gold. Another of silver. Two taffeta, one black, the other a light blue. The last skirt was of royal-purple damask, a color not usually allowed out of Byzantium where it was reserved only for the emperor and his subjects. Constantine’s empress had, however, given Eada a bolt of the stuff as a parting gift.

Watching their frantic activity over the next few weeks Josselin found himself tempted to tease his women. “What of my wardrobe?” he asked. “Is Mairin to be the only one in this family with new clothes? I thought it was usually the male who sported the finer plumage while the little brown wren sat dutifully on her nest.”

“What of all those clothes mother and I sewed for you last winter?” she parried. “I have not seen you wear half of them, and there are some beautiful garments amongst them. Besides, no one looks at men.”

“The women do,” he said seriously.

“Well, they had best not look at you, my lord! I suppose you left behind any number of silly creatures in Normandy who think they can still cast sheep’s eyes at you. They will quickly learn otherwise!”

For a brief moment he remembered Blanche de St. Brieuc, and as quickly put her from his mind. Blanche was in Brittany. She was not, nor had she ever been, a part of or had access to the Norman court. He didn’t intend upsetting Mairin with old and bitter memories. “Why, enchantress,” he said, “there is no one who could take me from your side. I love you.”

“Then you shall not be besieged by former amours?” she said, sounding a trifle disappointed.

He shook his head. “No,” he said.

“Men never tell,” she grumbled.

“It would not be chivalrous to do so, enchantress,” he answered her.