Some men who were assigned to the stables met them and took the horses and Martin followed at his heels, knowing his duty to the knight he served. Giles sent the other men off to take their ease and have a good meal to replace the one they’d missed during their search. His own stomach growled loudly for, as they passed by the corridor that led to the kitchen, he could smell the aromas of something roasted and something baked.
When he was seated at table, weapons handed off to Martin for cleaning and mail removed, a large, steaming bowl of stew with a small round of cheese and some bread was placed before them, and he reported their discoveries to Brice, Roger and the rest.
A small band was taking refuge in the woods to the west of the keep. Giles had found the remnants of a camp along with fires and refuse, though they could not tell how many stayed there or who they were. He did not wish it disturbed until they could discover who was using it and for what purposes.
The meal finished and they still talked and planned, huddling around the table, even as the peasants from the village and the serfs began to settle into the hall for the night. With dangers encroaching from many directions, Giles knew he needed to be prepared and knew it meant the difference between survival and destruction. Roger’s report that Lady Fayth had been helpful in organising those now living within the walls gave him hope that she would agree to continue to help him.
When one of the servants came over with news that a bath was prepared for him, he stood and excused the men to their rest for the night. After checking about the guards on duty, he washed quickly and climbed the steps to his,their,chambers. Smiling as he noticed that the door had been repaired and placed back on its hinges, he lifted the latch and pushed quietly against it.
Giles had seen many sides to the woman who was now his wife, but the sight that greeted him was a new one. He half expected to find her fully clothed in bed, with her back pressed against the wall. Instead, she sat in the one tall-backed chair in the room, wrapped in a blanket and sound asleep. Unlike earlier today in the yard, her hair lay loose around her shoulders, giving her face a much younger appearance.
Lady Fayth sighed then and shifted in the chair and one corner of the blanket fell loose. She mumbled then, some words that slurred together into an unintelligible sentence or phrase in her language. She settled again, once more into sleep’s embrace, and he continued to observe her for a few more minutes before preparing for sleep himself.
Giles moved about the chamber, tugging the layers of furs and blankets down on the bed, tossing his garments on a trunk, and then decided it would be best to have the necessary conversation here, in private, than in view of her people or his. If she agreed to his request, fine, but if not, it did not bode well for their future. Crouching down in front of her, he touched her cheek and spoke her name softly. When he repeated it for the third time, her eyes began to flutter open.
He knew the moment she recognised him and the place where they were, for a look of fear entered her gaze. He realised that fear always entered her eyes at each of their encounters, something he was growing to dislike. She tried to back away. Considering that she sat in such a chair as she did, it was not possible, and it took a few moments for her to wake up fully.
‘Lady,’ he said softly. ‘I did not think you meant to sleep the night in that chair.’ He tapped on the arm of it and nodded to it. ‘It does not offer much comfort.’ He stood up then and took a step back and away. ‘Surely, the bed is a better place? No?’
Fayth lifted her hand and rubbed her eyes to clear the sleepiness from them. She’d waited for hours here, first pacing to stay awake and then sitting here, praying for the souls of those killed on her behalf and for the innocents caught in the attacks. When she could no longer focus on the words, she’d closed her eyes for but a moment. From the way the candles burned low, she’d slept much longer than a moment. She noticed then his gaze fell to the prayer beads that helped her keep track of her prayers.
‘Has good Father Henry watched over your souls for a long time?’ he asked.
‘Many years,’ she said, gathering the beads and placing them on the table.
‘Did he clerk for your father as well or did another see to those duties?’
Fayth thought that might be the first time he’d asked about her father directly and wondered at it. She tried to keep the pain in her heart under control as she answered him, but it hurt badly to think of her father as gone from her.
‘Father Henry has served God here by taking care of our souls and served my father as clerk, my lord. I have been told that they grew up together and both were happy when Father Henry was sent by the bishop.’
Tears burned her eyes as she thought on the two of them over the many years. Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, Fayth cleared it and asked, ‘Why do you ask, my lord? Have you need of a new priest or clerk?’
He did not answer her immediately; instead he looked away and began to pace, much as she did when troubled or deep in thought. Then he stopped a few paces from her and nodded. ‘A clerk, I think, to take up those duties as well as a miller, a chandler, a reeve, a woodward, a brewer and a harpist, as near as I can tell. And, a few more villeins to take on some other of the duties in my Taerford demesne.’
‘A harpist? We did not have a harpist here…before your arrival.’
He smiled then, one that curved his mouth most attractively and caused her blood to rush. ‘Ah. But I have always found the music of the harp to be soothing and pleasant. We Bretons are amongst the best at playing it.’
He was delaying his true purpose, she could feel it, so she decided to ask him directly. ‘What is your purpose here, my lord? What is it you wish to know?’
Giles stood straighter now and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I wish to know,’ he began and then shook his head. ‘I need to know how many and which of your people fled with Edmund.’
‘I will not endanger those who made good their escape, my lord,’ she said, pushing off the blankets she’d wrapped around herself and standing. ‘You cannot expect me to be a traitor to them?’
He shook his head and waved her off. ‘Non.No. I expect no such thing from you, lady. But, if we are to protect those still here and survive further attacks and the coming winter, I need your help to take an accounting of whom and what remains now.’
Although she’d been thinking on the very same subject all day, his bringing it up to her shocked her. ‘My help?’
‘Aye. First I need to know which man I can trust as steward.’
Startled, she turned to face him. ‘You would trust one of my people to serve as your steward?’
‘Within reason.’ He tilted his head and watched her closely as he answered. ‘He will work closely with one of my men until I know if he is trustworthy or not. There is much work to do to prepare for winter and I need an able-bodied, intelligent man to carry out those measures.’
The proposal came to her mind in that instant and she blurted out the words before thinking it through. ‘Must it be a man?’
He looked as surprised as she felt. ‘Who are you suggesting, my lady? Not Emma? Surely she is too old and not experienced enough, though certainly she can give orders as well as any man I know.’
