‘He will not allow it,’ she said, believing that Giles sought more from her than only lands. She did not deceive herself that those lands had brought him to her, but now, now he wanted her.
‘Better for us if he does follow, for that would remove any impediment to marriage if this promised Welshman is so squeamish as to have one. One marriage did not stop my father from pursuing his goals though, so do not hang any hope on that to bring this to a halt.’
She watched in silence as he moved about the cottage preparing for night. His men, after securing the two small windows and blocking the door, remained outside while he took a place inside. He brought her some cheese and bread and then the night settled in on them.
‘You do not want to do this to me, Edmund. My father loved you as his own and thought you worthy of his trust.’
‘And I loved him as a father when I was sent away from my own, Fayth. But now, I have the chance to regain what my family has lost, what England has lost, and to keep the name and house of Harold Godwinson in power here.’ Edmund let out a breath and met her gaze for the first time during this debacle. ‘This is larger and more important than either or both of us, Fayth, and I will not fail my father or his legacy by letting this opportunity slip through my hands.’
She felt tears gathering and was the first to look away. When she’d finished eating, he took the remnants of their meagre meal, tied the sack and stashed it by the door. He handed her a blanket and waited for her to settle before handing the torch back out to his men. Fayth heard him make his way to the wall and slide down it to rest there. A few minutes later, complete silence filled the cottage and she hoped she could sleep.
‘You are the key to gaining what we need to fight off the Bastard’s control,’ he whispered to her. ‘Even though I truly wish it was not like this, I cannot let Fitzhenry live or let you go.’
A shudder passed through her and Fayth began to offer up her litany of prayers. But now she knew not if she prayed that Giles would find her or that he would not.
Brice thought Giles mad for leaving before dawn, but he would brook no opposition to his plan. If Fayth’s disappearance had done nothing else, it had strengthened his resolve to find and dispose of Edmund. With plans in place for the defence of the manor and its people if Huard’s men should attack before his return, or if Edmund did muster forces against him, Giles left Brice in charge, with Roger at the ready.
He took only Stephen and Fouque with him to find her, as well as Brice’s promise to aid her however possible if he should fall.
He reached the rebels’ northern camp at nightfall and discovered that Edmund was several hours ahead of him, on the north road to Gloucester. Several men approached him and offered to help him in his quest to save her—men who had served her father or, like Siward, had benefitted from her kindness in some way. Although pleased by such offers and glad to see that Siward had escaped and made it here relatively unscathed, he knew that any more deaths in her name would destroy her.
Giles and his men rested a few hours and left before dawn’s light. If Edmund headed, as Giles suspected he did, to Wales and his father’s old enemies to try to form an alliance to regain control of England from the duke, the land would grow more arduous and challenging. Edmund would never chance taking Fayth into the mountains until day’s light broke upon them.
So there was still time.
They found the cottage just as the sun was rising and Stephen reported on the four knights outside. Edmund would be inside with Fayth. But before they could get close enough, Giles discovered that rebels could indeed get the better of two, or three, mounted knights. When he came to, he found the three of them trussed like game on the ground in front of the cottage.
Edmund’s rebel fighters had arrived behind them and took them unaware with little effort. So focused on finding Fayth was he, he’d forgotten to cover his back. Now, they waited for Edmund to decide their fate, though he had little doubt what it would be.
Fayth heard the men outside before Edmund woke, but dared not move off the pallet. So far, he’d treated her without cruelty, but she feared what lay just beneath the surface in a man as desperate to save his family and name as Edmund was. She had to stay alive and watch for the chance to escape.
Edmund woke then, and, after belting on his sword, he opened the door, looking out at his men. Then he just laughed, bent over at the waist until she finally left the pallet to see the source of his merriment. Nothing prepared her for the sight of Giles and two of his men, beaten and tied, on the ground there. She tried to go to him, but Edmund seized her and held her back.
She thought to follow him when he left, but she found the door barred from the outside and no amount of banging and screaming made a difference. Fayth knew he did not plan to starve her, so she waited for someone to bring her food and drink. Listening against the door, she heard nothing and it worried her.
An hour or so later, the bar was lifted and the door opened. The man who had accompanied Edmund to the keep entered and bade her to come out. She rushed out, expecting to find Giles there, but he was gone.
‘Where is he?’ she asked as the man hurried her up a path next to the cottage. Although she could see that more men had joined Edmund there, she saw no sign of her husband. When the man did not answer, she grabbed his arm to make him stop. ‘Did Edmund kill him?’ she asked, dreading the answer.
‘See to your needs, lady,’ the knight ordered instead.
Fayth found they stood at the banks of a small stream. Still intending to find where they kept her husband, she washed and drank hurriedly and saw to her other needs even faster, not trusting the man to keep his back turned. On their way back to the cottage, she saw them.
Tied against three trees, a short distance behind the cottage, sat her husband and his men. Other than a few bruises, they looked little worse for the wear. When she tried to make her way there, a rough hand on her arm stopped her. Handed a sack and forced into the cottage, she could do nothing against the strength of the knight.
Edmund came to see her, thrilled that he now held the Norman lord to ransom for the duke. His few moments of enjoyment ended when Fayth explained the duke’s thinking in giving the lands to bastards with little standing. His face grew stern and dark as he realised his error in judgement. Fayth hoped she’d not cost Giles his life with her comments.
Before storming out, Edmund revealed that they would remain here for another day, waiting for the rest of his supporters and their troops. Then he would take her into Wales to bargain with one of the Welsh princes who’d promised his aid.
With nothing to do but wait and pray, Fayth began exploring her small prison. Other than the two small windows, too small even if not covered for her and her gowns to fit through, as well as the door, there was no way out. Sitting on the pallet, she noticed that the sun’s light pierced through a worn section in the wattle-and-daub wall. Searching the cottage for some tool to use and finding only a small, rickety stool in the corner, she broke it into pieces, explaining to the guards that it had collapsed under her weight.
Using one of the legs, she began to work at the worn place. Scraping away the clay filling and continuing the work that looked as if it had been started by an animal, she enlarged the hole bit by bit. Tossing her cloak in front of it, she hid it with her body when Edmund brought her an evening meal. When night fell, the hole was large enough for her to crawl through. She took her chance before Edmund returned to rest for the night.
Taking off her bulky tunic and with her braid secured inside her veil, she eased her way through, trying to be as quiet as possible. The number of men camping and carousing on the other side of the cottage, obviously in celebration of their coming victories, covered most of the sounds she made.
She stayed low to the ground and used the surrounding trees to hide her movements before reaching her husband and his men. Crouching down behind him, she realised she had no dagger with which to cut his ropes. Trying to untie them proved a waste of time, for the knots held and her fingers could not loosen them.
‘I need a knife or something sharp,’ she whispered, looking over at the camp and wondering if she could find something there without being detected.
