Surprised that she should be interested in the sport, Hrolf explained proudly, “I have not raised these birds from the nest, but they are mine as is all you see in every direction: I have not known a woman to enjoy falconry, but perhaps you would care to join us rather than merely observe?” He extended his left arm, upon which sat a magnificent peregrine falcon whose sharp talons were firmly embedded in the padded gauntlet he wore. Thinking Celiese would be foolish enough to reach out and pet the bird, he waited patiently to see how badly she would be injured when it bit her.
“Had I a bird of my own I would be happy to participate, but alas, we own none.” Celiese remained upon her horse, her hands holding the reins lightly as she admired the falcon he was showing off so proudly. Clearly he thought her a fool where falcons were concerned, but she knew exactly what would happen were she to make a move toward this one. “This is a hawk of passage then, one captured from the wild and tamed, not an eyas, one taken from the nest and raised for sport?”
Impressed that she knew the difference, Hrolf realized Celiese did indeed know something of his favorite sport. “We have several birds; do you object to your wife joining in the hunt, Mylan?” Hrolf’s booming voice attracted the notice of all who were nearby. There were several other women, but they appeared to be content to be spectators.
“Celiese has many talents; if she wishes to hunt, I have no objection.” Yet Mylan gave her a warning glance. He knew she had nerve aplenty, but falconry involved skill, as well, and he doubted she had any experience with the powerful birds of prey. Moving close, he whispered so only she could hear, “Have you ever done this before?”
“Of course, my father raised hawks as a diversion.” She was surprised by his question until she realized his worried expression mirrored a true concern for her safety.
Seeing something pass between the attractive couple that he did not fully comprehend, Hrolf inquired curiously, “What is your father’s name, Celiese, perhaps I know him.”
“He is long dead, sir, and I’m certain you would not recognize his name. Now, shall we begin? Your other guests look most impatient.”
Distracted by the warmth of her smile, Hrolf signaled to one of his men to bring the bird he had selected for Mylan. “The glove will be too large, I know, but you need only see if you can bear the weight of the hawk upon your wrist.”
“Yes, I understand the secret is a steady hand.” Celiese and Mylan dismounted quickly and handed their reins to a waiting groom. She pulled on the thickly padded gauntlet, extended her left arm, and the hawk came to her. Another peregrine falcon, she was also a beauty, her breast a soft beige tinged with pink, her back and wings brown with black markings. Celiese held the jesses, the two strips of leather tied to the bird’s legs so she might be carried more easily, but unfastened the leash to be ready to send the bird aloft. Small silver bells had been attached to the bird’s legs so she could be found were she to become lost. When Celiese turned into the morning breeze so the bird would be most comfortable while being carried, they rang with a pleasant sound, making music with every step.
Smiling happily, she waited for Mylan to step to her right side. “You see, I do know how to do this, but I know enough also to let the duke send his falcon up for the first kill.”
Mylan nodded slightly, impressed that she had stopped to consider the man’s feelings when to disregard them would have been disastrous. Hrolf’s falcon took a pheasant out of the sky with all the grace and agility that made falconry so favored a sport. Then, at his signal, Celiese slipped the leather hood from her bird’s head and sent her up soaring far above them. Well trained, she took another pheasant with astonishing speed and returned to land upon Celiese’s outstretched arm. Knowing she had proved her ability, Celiese passed the beautiful bird back to the waiting falconer but stayed with Mylan and the other men for the rest of the hunt.
“The hour grows late, but this was the best of days. I insist you return with me to my home so you may both join me this evening.” Hrolf smiled widely, charmed by the handsome young couple’s grace and quiet manner.
“Thank you, sir, but I would prefer to return to my husband’s ship where I might dress more appropriately for the evening.” Celiese could not look at the duke without imagining his clothing splattered with the blood of his innocent victims, but she managed to sound genuinely pleased by his invitation.
“We have clothing in all sizes for our guests; you will lack for nothing. Now come with us.” While Hrolf’s voice was still pleasant, his command was not to be ignored.
“It will be our pleasure,” Mylan responded through clenched teeth. What Celiese’s purpose had been he could not imagine, but clearly she had captivated the arrogant man with an attitude he could only describe as nonchalant. She had turned all the duke’s compliments aside coldly, apparently too absorbed in the excitement of the hunt to notice his growing admiration. He held his temper until they were shown to a suite of rooms in their host’s mansion, where he questioned her angrily.
“Falcons, Celiese? Is there no end to the lengths you will go to accept a dare?”
She walked slowly around the well-appointed room, admiring the elegant furnishings and wondering from where they had come. “Was that a dare? I’d say Hrolf wanted to take advantage of what he imagined would be my inexperience, and I simply turned his trick aside. Had I no skill with hawks, I would not have accepted his invitation to hunt, but merely watched you, as the other ladies did.”
Astonished by her reasoning, Mylan asked incredulously, “Why would he wish to see you hurt?”
“Perhaps he is the one who is jealous; he seems very taken with you.”
Mylan sank down into the closest chair, completely dismayed by her observation. “He is no different from any other man, Celiese. He likes male companions with whom to exchange stories, but he has no need to be jealous of our wives.”
“I was mistaken then.” She had confused Mylan, so he did not criticize her further. After they had bathed she found none of the many lavishly trimmed gowns in the wardrobe attractive. They were all doubtlessly stolen, along with everything else under the duke’s roof, and she was loath to wear one.
Mylan, on the other hand, could not decide which garment was supposed to be put on first and called to her to assist him. “All these were laid outâ??I am to wear them in layers?”
Laughing at his confusion, she helped him to dress. “The chainse is worn first; see it is lightweight, the sleeves are close-fitted and extend to the wrist. The bliaud is a heavier fabric, worn like a tunic over it, the sleeves are three quarter length and full so you will not get the two garments confused. Braies are just like your trousers, chausses are made to fit your legs and you wrap the garters around your legs to make them fit more snugly. That is not so different from the way you wrap the laces on your boots.”
Following her directions, Mylan managed to dress in a reasonable facsimile of a French gentleman, but he was unused to wearing such bright colors and felt uncomfortable. “I am far happier in my own clothing, but since the other men here have chosen to dress as the Frenchmen do I will not argue with their taste.” When her expression grew solemn he looked down at his borrowed garb. “Is something wrong?”
“No, you look very handsome, but you are still obviously a Dane in some Frenchman’s clothes.”
“You misunderstand Hrolf, he plans to be a Frenchman now, truly he does. That he lends his guests French attire is understandable. Now, what have you chosen to wear over your lace-trimmed chemise?”
“You must select something, for I cannot.” Turning away, she left the matter up to him, and he quickly handed her a gown of deep emerald green, the neckline and sleeves banded with wide silk embroidery.
“This will match your eyes, but let us hurry, we have kept the others waiting too long as it is.” He kissed her nape sweetly as he helped her smooth the gown over her glossy curls. “There, let us go.”
She hesitated to give him her hand when she was so worried as to how the evening would end. “Please do not drink so much tonight, Mylan, we will never succeed in our purpose if we do not keep our wits about us.”
His gaze darkening, he shook his head. “I can take care of myself, despite your worries. Cease your nagging and let us join in the fun.” He swept her along beside him to the hall, where the merriment had already begun. Hrolf made room for them at his side, but although he made numerous toasts Celiese drank no more than a drop of the wine that flowed so generously. Gisela had not been present for the hunt, nor did she appear that night, and Celiese wondered if her husband’s amusements did not appeal to her, either. When the hour grew late and the conversation turned to boisterous singing she could bear no more, she slipped away from Mylan’s side unnoticed she made her way through the imposing home.