Brandt glanced at him. “Where did you hear things like that?”
Deston grinned. “Erith is well-traveled,” he said. “We have many visitors. I hear many stories. Is any of this untrue?”
“Of course it is true.”
“Then you must be a very wealthy man from all of the time spent looting the Aquitaine.”
“I am well-rewarded for my service.”
It was a mild way of putting it. Deston chuckled softly before draining the rest of his wine.
“When do you return to France?” he asked, shifting the subject slightly. “More importantly, how many of my men will you need when you return?”
Brandt sighed heavily. The wine was starting to relax him and his professional manner was easing.
“I will not be in England long,” he said, suddenly looking very weary as he reflected on his future plans. His burdens were huge, dragging at him. “My directive from the Prince of Wales is to return for fresh troops and join him in the Aquitaine in three months’ time. We are beginning the systematic weakening of the north of France. Without going into a huge amount of detail, it is our intention to take Chartres, Tours, and eventually Poitiers. The prince wishes to set up court in Poitiers and rule from there.”
Deston was looking at him seriously. “Is this true?” he breathed. “My God… you have a task ahead of you, man.”
Brandt nodded, slowing down his food and alcohol intake as a thought occurred to him. In returning to France as soon as he was, he would have to marry Ellowyn quickly if he were going to spend any amount of time with her before he left. Odd that now, instead of returning to France where Edward was waiting for him for fresh men and supplies, all he could think of wasEllowyn and how he did not want to leave, not while they were just becoming close.
“I will be soliciting men and material from the Duke of Carlisle, the Earl of Wrexham, and move across the middle of England soliciting what support I can,” he said. “I will perhaps ride to Carlisle and Wrexham because their sons, St. Hèver and de Lara, serve me. I know the families well. To that end, what support can I expect from you?”
Deston took a deep breath, sighing heavily with thought. “Five hundred men at the most,” he said, scratching his blond head. “The six hundred you brought back should expect to stay here. What kind of supplies do you need?”
“Arrows,” Brandt said without hesitation. “The archers go through them at a maddening pace. They recover as many as they can, but supplies are short. We can also use any kind of combat weapons you can provide– axes, poleaxes, swords. Anything. Horses would also be well-met.”
“I will see what I can do,” Deston said. “How long will you be staying?”
“No more than a day, two at the most.”
“Then let us spend tonight feasting and enjoying life. We will speak of the serious things tomorrow.”
“Agreed.”
They lifted a cup to each other before drinking deeply. Brandt was thinking heavily on re-introducing Ellowyn into the conversation for the purpose of asking permission to court her when his knights entered from the bailey.
They were exhausted, dirty, and hungry just as Brandt had been, so Brandt kept his mouth shut as Deston greeted them and the men settled down to wine and food. All the while, he kept thinking of how he was going to broach the subject of Ellowyn with her father, because it had become increasingly apparently during the course of the conversation that Ellowyn was Deston’spride and joy. He wasn’t quite sure how the man was going to view someone who would take her away from him.
Downing his wine, he tried to think of a way to break it easy to the man.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ellowyn was dressedvery carefully in a ruby-red, silk surcoat with a matching shift. The surcoat was stitched with silver thread and a flower made from red-colored glass decorated portions of her belly and trailed down her right leg. It was a magnificent dress that her father had purchased for her in York a few years ago. It had been one of the rare times he had traveled out of Erith because the weather had been warm and his health good, and she very much treasured the spectacular dress. She only wore it for special occasions.
Her first evening back at Erith was a special occasion. Her mother’s maid had arranged her hair in a beautiful style with silver ribbons woven into a braid that draped over her right shoulder. The maid had scrubbed her face along with her body, so her complexion was particularly rosy, and she smelled strongly of lavender.
Furthermore, with a good deal of coaxing, the maid had borrowed some of Annalora’s cosmetics and Ellowyn found herself with luscious red lips, faintly rouged cheeks, and a dark cosmetic on her lashes that was made of crushed coal, beeswax, and linseed oil. Her mother had bought it on a trip to Manchester, a major port, and was told by the merchant that it was a mysterious Egyptian cosmetic that was all the rage in Paris. On Ellowyn with her bright green eyes, the dark lashes made her look like a goddess.
Standing to the rear of Erith’s massive keep where the ponds and small flower garden were, Ellowyn stood by the still waters of the fish pond, watching the water creatures move amongst thelilies. The sun had set behind the hill that backed up to Erith, and the moon was full and bright. As she stood there, gazing into the water, she could hear footfalls come up beside her.
Brandt was walking fairly quickly. He came to within a foot of Ellowyn, gazing down at her with a good deal of pleasure. Ellowyn smiled brightly.
“You received my message, I see,” she said.
He nodded. “Your maid delivered it,” he replied. Then, he took a moment to look her up and down. “I have never in my life seen such beauty. I did not think it possible for you to grow even more lovely since last I saw you, but I was wrong. You are an angel.”
Her smile broadened. “My thanks,” she said softly. “It has taken all afternoon for me to look like this.”
