Warrior's Song (Medieval Song 1)

“What do you mean, my lord?” Chandra asked.

“He means nothing at all,” Jerval said.

“Tell me, Chandra,” Avicia said, wondering how her daughter-in-law could be such a dolt about such matters, “what were your duties at Croyland?”

Chandra smiled. “There were no idle hands at Croyland either. I helped Crecy with the ledger accounts. Lord Richard despises numbers, and during the past year, I saw to Croyland’s purchases and sales.”

“You read?”

“Aye, my lady, my father wished it. Crecy taught me.”

“We ladies do not involve ourselves in that sort of thing at Camberley,” Avicia said, and wondered silently why not.

“You have an honest steward then? One who can count beyond his ten fingers?”

Avicia thought of the oily Damis, whom she had distrusted ever since the day she had seen him strutting in a new fur-lined tunic in the village over a year ago. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.

“Actually,” Jerval said, “I handle quite a bit of that now, Chandra. Damis needs a close eye on his ledgers. My mother is thinking of that new tunic of his. I took the cost of it from his wages. The fellow does well enough now.”

“But what did you do at Croyland that is appropriate for a lady?” Julianna asked.

“Chandra sings and plays the lyre beautifully,” Mary said, “but you already know that, Julianna.”

My little champion, Chandra thought, looking at Mary. She said to Lady Avicia, “My mother directed the servants in the weaving, cooking, and cleaning. She never wished my help. Indeed, she didn’t want anything from me. I know nothing of it.”

“That makes no sense,” Avicia said. “It is a mother’s responsibility to train her daughter.”

“That was not Lady Dorothy’s view of things.”

“Then I will teach you,” Lady Avicia said, and she actually rubbed her hands together. “Since you are my son’s wife and the future mistress of Camberley, there are many responsibilities that will be yours. There is the proper planning of the meals, seeing that the servants do their jobs well, clothes to be woven and mended, the gardens to be tended and, naturally, the care of guests. Ah, so many things to be done.” Lady Avicia rubbed her hands together again as she said with too much relish, “Aye, no one will have to worry about this because I will instruct you.”

Chandra didn’t like that very happy look on her mother-in-law’s face. She wasn’t at all certain that instruction from Lady Avicia would be such a good thing. Probably not even a tolerable thing. She nearly shuddered. She’d spoken aloud about Lady Dorothy because the words had simply popped out of her mouth without her permission. She wondered what Lady Avicia would do now. She thought with horror of using a spinning wheel. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut.

Like his wife, Jerval wondered what would happen now. But what bothered him was what she had said about her mother.

Chandra said at last, “However, I believe that Croyland is the most magnificent keep in all of England.”

Avicia said, “Magnificent mayhap, but the meals were ill prepared save for the marriage feast, the serving maids slovenly and shiftless and the keep filthy. There were bones and refuse in the reeds. I could not even walk about in the bailey without having my skirts soiled. Well, that is not quite true, but almost.”

Jerval saw that Chandra would probably draw her knife to defend all the perfection of Croyland. He said, rising quickly, “It is late. You are all very tired, as are we. Chandra and I bid you good night.”

“She insulted Croyland,” Chandra said as she walked beside him up the stone stairs. “She dared to insult Croyland.”

“The meals were not all that tasty,” he said mildly, and leaned over to kiss her. “I do like your nose.”

She shoved him back. “Leave me be, damn you. You will not make me laugh. You will not make me yowl again. You will not make my brain leap from my head.”

He grabbed her hand, kept walking, and began whistling. Just before they reached their bedchamber, he stopped her and held her hands together in his. “Before we wedded, I never considered our life once it would actually begin here at Camberley. All I could think about was being inside you, kissing every bit of you. I nearly expired with lust. I still do. However, life has intruded. Now, my mother is mistress here, and her standards are exacting.”

“Camberley should be like Croyland—a warrior’s keep, not a sweet-smelling, useless hall where more attention is given to the cleanliness of the tables than to the fortifications.”

“You have eyes. You see that Camberley is very well fortified. The keep is clean. All like it that way.” He paused a moment, then said, “I am sorry that your mother didn’t wish to teach you. It isn’t natural. It must have been difficult for you. But no longer. Now, I know what you should do: just think of the way you feel after I have given you your woman’s pleasure, then speak to my mother.”

She was appalled. “I cannot. She would believe that I have lost all my wits.”

“Aye, and that might be a good thing.”

“She would see me as weak and soft and she would kick me.”