Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5)

He looked puzzled, then realized she’d followed his vision to his arm. There was a dirty rag tied around his forearm.

“It is nothing,” he said, and rose. “I must work the men. It is what Severin wants.”

Without thinking, Hastings shoved him back onto the bench. “You will go nowhere until I have seen what is wrong. I do not wish you to die, and that happens many times when there is an open wound. It is something about the blood that turns bad and poisons the body. Hold still, Gwent.”

He suffered her. He didn’t make a sound when she bathed the cut. It was deep and ugly. When she rubbed an infusion of chives and Saint-John’s-wort onto the sore, he didn’t even flinch. She knew that it hurt. “Listen to me, Gwent. You will keep this bandage clean. I will change it every evening until the wound is healed. If you do not obey me, there is every chance that you could die.”

Gwent wanted to tell her that she was a woman and thus she saw every little cut or bruise as something to fell a man. But he kept still. Men did die too easily from wounds. Also, she was the mistress of Oxborough, Severin’s wife, and he rather liked her. He had never seen his master so utterly baffled in his life. She had right upended him and he had said to Gwent that if he didn’t learn to control her he might thrash her and then she would make his bowels turn to water and what man wanted that?

Gwent rose, smiled down at her, and said, “My thanks, Hastings. Worry not about Severin. If there is any trouble at the keeps, he will send a message to me. Ah, Hastings, since you have cured my arm, I agree. I don’t really believe you are overly prideful.”

“Keep the bandage clean, Gwent.”

“Aye,” he said, then turned to see Torric the steward standing there. “Ah, I believe it is the worm who has crawled into the hall to see if I have yet realized that he is a miserable cheat. By Saint Andrew’s teeth, I hate cheats.”

Torric was a cheat? He had been with her father for five years now. Her father had trusted him. They were rich, all their holdings prospering. Gwent believed he was cheating? That meant that Severin believed it too. She had never paid any attention to the steward’s varied tasks about Oxborough. She only knew that Torric performed all his duties well, was usually fair with all their people, and smiled perhaps not as much as a man should, but it wasn’t all that important. Perhaps she should begin to pay a bit more attention.

During the second week of Severin’s absence, on a hot and dusty afternoon, Alart, the porter, yelled that a company of men were approaching. Since Oxborough rose above the surrounding countryside, they could see all who approached from great distances. These men were still some miles away.

Hastings saw the king’s standard. Surely King Edward was not arriving for a visit. But still, Hastings quickly changed her gown, combed her hair, and braided it neatly about her head, and grabbed Eloise’s hand to stand in front of the keep.

It was the chancellor of England, Robert Burnell, King Edward’s secretary and most trusted advisor. He looked as if his bones had been rattled into dust. He didn’t ride well. His face looked drawn and tired, yet they were but a three-day ride from London. Riding beside the chancellor on a bay palfrey with white stockings was one of the most beautiful women Hastings had ever seen in her life. She was so fair, her hair shone nearly white in the sunlight. She was wearing a white wimple that fastened beneath her chin. She was young, not more than five years older than Hastings, and she rode her palfrey well. She was wearing a soft green gown with long, loose sleeves that fell nearly to the ground. Burnell slowly dismounted. Then he shook himself, looked up at her, and nodded. He handed the reins of his horse to one of the Oxborough stable lads.

“My lady,” Burnell said, giving Hastings a fat smile, for he’d known her since she was born, though he’d seen her only rarely during the past ten years, “this is Lady Marjorie, widow of Sir Mark Outbraith. King Edward has sent her to you to care for Eloise of Sedgewick. This is the child?”

The child pressed herself against Hastings’s side.

“Eloise,” Hastings said, “my dear, this is a very nice man who serves our king. He isn’t here to hurt you.”

“What is wrong with her?” Robert Burnell asked, one eye on Eloise, who refused to release Hastings’s leg.

“Her father beat her and her mother set her on her knees most of the day to pray. She is much more at ease now, but it will take time.”

“Ah, the little girl,” Lady Marjorie said, and without paying any attention to the dirt on the keep steps, she dropped to her knees and looked straight into Eloise’s pale blue eyes.

“You and I,” she said very slowly and quietly, “will become great friends. You may call me Marjorie.” She reached into the pocket of her beautiful cloak and withdrew a cloth. Slowly, knowing Eloise was staring down at that cloth, she unwrapped it. Inside were almonds covered with honey. “Just one, Eloise, just one. That way they will last a long time and you will have something to look forward to.”

Eloise very slowly reached out and took an almond. She studied it. Then she eased it into her mouth. Almost immediately she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

Marjorie smiled and rose. “You are Hastings of Oxborough?”

“Aye. You have come quickly.”

Robert Burnell said, “We will remain until tomorrow, Hastings, then go to Sedgewick. Lady Marjorie will be the child’s guardian until she comes of age. Where is Lord Severin?”

“He is away visiting his other holdings.”

The evening meal was an odd affair. Robert Burnell sat in Severin’s chair, Lady Marjorie sat in Eloise’s chair with Eloise on her lap. “She is so very thin,” Marjorie said.

“You should have seen her when she first arrived at Oxborough.”

“All of this is very strange. However, I fancy that at Sedgewick, everything will soon be all right again.”

What am I, Hastings thought, a witch to terrify and starve the child? She realized she didn’t want Eloise to return to Sedgewick. Beale was there. Both Hastings and Eloise were afraid of Beale, probably with good reason. When she spoke of this to Robert Burnell after the long dinner, he was silent for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “I will hang the woman. Then there will be no problem. You did say that she threatened you, did you not, Hastings?”

“Aye, I did, but sir, surely hanging is a bit too severe, even for Beale. Cannot Eloise simply remain here? It is kind of Lady Marjorie to come to her, but I can be Eloise’s guardian until she is of marriageable age. Severin will protect her and her holdings.”

“I am sorry, but His Majesty is set on this course. Besides, you are newly wedded. You and Severin will have babes. What need do you have of a child not your own?”