‘Brice, call all who were high in Lord Bertram’s regard or held places of honour at his table to the hall.’ Before Brice could question his intentions, he called out again. ‘Bring any of Lord Bertram’s men-at-arms who remain in my service there as well. Send word to the village for those who owed service to the old lord to come now to the keep.’
He did not slow his pace, but held on to the lady and half carried her with him. He cursed himself for not handling this as soon as he’d taken control, but he had believed it was not necessary. Now, he could see in hindsight that it was far too late. Giles had thought to protect the lady from the harsh realities wrought by this war and the one her king had fought just before it, but he must right the effects of that faulty decision.
Entering the keep from the back, he continued on through to the hall, gathering a crowd of those working as he dragged their lady with him. Reaching the large table, he pulled out one of the chairs and placed her in it. Crouching in front of it, he took her chin in his fingers and turned her so that she faced him.
‘Lady?’ When she did not meet his gaze, he shook her face gently and spoke again. ‘Fayth?’
This time when she did look at him the grief and pain there were nearly too much for him to gaze upon.
‘I do not know if your father fell under my sword or my bow. In battle it is sometimes impossible to know.’
Tears filled her eyes again and she blinked several times before replying. ‘And is that to soothe my conscience or yours, my lord?’ she asked in an empty voice.
‘Neither,’ he said with a shrug. ‘A warrior reconciles himself to the necessities of war before he enters. No man goes into battle or war without knowing that he will cause many deaths even as someone else tries to cause his. I simply tried to tell you the truth.’
Noticing the people gathering in the hall, he stood back and ordered Emma to see to her lady. He watched as the maid forced her to drink a sip of wine and then called Roger to his side to explain his intentions. Roger accepted his orders and left to arrange the men as he’d directed. Brice…Brice stood as always at his back whether he agreed or not with his decision.
Giles accepted a cup of wine from one of the servants and thought over the words he would use to set out his plans for Taerford and its people.
Edmund gave the signal to hold. Something was amiss here.
As they watched from the cover of the forest the Normans began rounding up all the villagers and herding them to the keep.
It was rushed.
It was forced and no one was permitted to remain behind.
Not a good sign of the new lord’s intentions.
‘What do you think he is doing?’ William asked.
Edmund watched as the villagers made their way down the road to the keep, their fear evident in the way they walked and the glances they threw back at their homes. Would Edmund and his men be betrayed to the Norman? Many were aware of their excursions into the village to seek supplies that Edmund knew were stored there, but would any of them reveal that knowledge?
He dared not move closer now; the absence of most of the villagers would not shield such movements. With a wave and signal, he led his men back through the forest, along the river to their camp.
He’d hoped to get word about Fayth for he’d not heard much of her welfare until just days before. Apparently injured during the attack and kept prisoner in her chambers until just five days ago, she had been forced to the chapel by the Norman and taken in marriage against her will. Edmund could only imagine the perversions forced on Lord Bertram’s innocent daughter by the Norman knight who claimed her and her lands.
The one who’d killed Lord Bertram at Hastings.
Once he spoke to the leaders of the other troops and received word from King Edgar, he would come up with a plan to rescue the lady…and bring her to his side. Through her, he could reclaim the lands that should be his, the lands Bertram had promised him if he kept Fayth safe from the invading forces.
And whether, in the end, he decided to take her in marriage himself or give her to a faithful vassal, removing her foreign husband would be the easiest part of the plan.
They’d travelled only a few miles towards their camp when a man reached them with the news that the villagers were back and all alive and apparently well. Curious to discover what had happened, Edmund ordered his men back towards Taerford village.
Chapter Nine
Giles’s every nerve jangled as he watched them assemble before him. A glance at the lady did nothing to settle him for Fayth grew even paler as her people gathered there. Giles suspected she worried that he would have them killed, but for now he would say nothing else to her about his plans. All of his people would hear his words at the same time.
Nothing in his life, nothing learned at Sir Gautier’s knee or on the many battlefields, had prepared him for this moment, but he gained strength from knowing that he could do well by these people even as he prospered from them. He knew that Duke William supported him in this endeavour and that the duke would never give up his claim to England and these lands. With that backing and his own plans and desires for success, Giles would make his stand and his claim.
Roger called out his name and every person quieted.
‘In defeating your king and your lord in battle, Duke William has made his claim on this land. By right of battle and with the pope’s blessing, England is his and the lands held by those who fought at Harold’s side are forfeit.’
Loud grumbling went through the crowd and Giles waited for it to pass.
‘In supporting his liege lord, Bertram of Taerford risked his life and lands and, with his defeat and death, his lands and more have been given to me. My liege lord requested only one sign of fealty from me for this bestowal—that I marry the old lord’s daughter. I have done that before you as witnesses.’ He watched as, to a one, they glanced over at Fayth.
