smell. It has the smell of death about it."
"I have not noticed anything. Leave it, Edyt. Such fine garments should not be cleaned, save when they must."
With a thoughtful frown, the girl lifted the fabric to her nose and sniffed. Her nostrils flared. "It is still there. The fuller will get it out."
"Edyt, I say it does not need it. Mayhap the smell is mine, rather than the garment's."
"It is not. But two people have died in it, lord."
"It is not cursed, I am sure."
"I only object to the smell, lord."
"Nay, I tell you. And why do you fold it, if you intend only to have it cleaned?"
"I– fold things."
"Well, do not bother with it, Edyt. It is not your concern. Leave it."
The girl stared with her enigmatic blue eyes as she lay the cloak down on the wooden bench before turning away. As she stepped outside the door, brilliant sunshine bounced off her pale yellow hair and made it glow like first sunlight on dewy spider webs. He caught his breath.
Odd girl. And forgetful of her manners, too.
But he'd speak to Thomas about correcting her, rather than do so himself.
* * *
Nay.
Nay, nay, nay! If he told his body often enough, mayhap it would cease its provocations. He had never been a man to be controlled by his passions, and he was not willing to allow it now. Alain had caught himself staring over the top of his silver-trimmed horn cup full of dark wine, watching the girl as she moved about the hall and supervised the supper meal.
He was not the only one. The hall was full of knights and soldiers who followed with covert eyes the servant girl with the yellow braid. Gerard, he thought, showed more than common interest. Mayhap there was an attachment between them.
The thought raised his hackles, yet it was a thought worth pursuing. He'd be less inclined to follow his passions if he knew her to belong to another man. Then that was what he must do. He did not want entanglements that would obstruct his marriage, and it certainly would not be advisable to maintain mistress and wife in the same hall.
He had never intended to have a mistress, once married. Not before now. Nor did he want to ruin the girl, who, despite her servitude seemed to be gently born. He knew little about her, save that she was freeborn, and served where her mother had served before. Mayhap a family down on their fortunes.
"There is little enough to worry us, Alain," said Robert, drawing Alain's attention back to the knights who ate at the trestle table with him. "We do not need all of them, do we?"
"We do not?" He had lost the train of the talk.
"One disgruntled archer, Alain. It is no cause to hold so many here for defense. The castle does not need such a large force until Rufus comes. We should see what needs to be controlled down river."
"Aye. But we will do as we are bidden, and defend and hold this castle. When Rufus needs more men, he will call for them. They will stay, for now."
"You make too much of a scratch, Alain," said Chrétien. "Rufus knows naught of this valley, save what we report to him."
"Your scratch has naught to do with it, Chrétien. What think you, Thomas? Is the threat against this castle more than one disgruntled archer?"
"Aye. Much more."
"Then, from where comes the threat?"
"Strathclyde, largely."
"And not among the knights of this demesne?"
"There are those, as well. Those who have no wish to be in the service of a Norman king, nor to cede their land. You must realize, lord, much of this land has been passed down from father to son for hundreds of years. It is a hard thing to give up willingly. So they would ally with Strathclyde."
"Strathclyde is Malcolm's, now."
"Aye. They would change that, too."
Alain caught his attention wandering, and again forced his gaze away from Edyt and her butter-yellow braid. If he must think about how her hair would flow about her body, he'd do it later.
"And how does this fit with Fyren's plans?"
"They merely take his place. Anwealda, especially." Thomas swirled the dregs of
"I have not noticed anything. Leave it, Edyt. Such fine garments should not be cleaned, save when they must."
With a thoughtful frown, the girl lifted the fabric to her nose and sniffed. Her nostrils flared. "It is still there. The fuller will get it out."
"Edyt, I say it does not need it. Mayhap the smell is mine, rather than the garment's."
"It is not. But two people have died in it, lord."
"It is not cursed, I am sure."
"I only object to the smell, lord."
"Nay, I tell you. And why do you fold it, if you intend only to have it cleaned?"
"I– fold things."
"Well, do not bother with it, Edyt. It is not your concern. Leave it."
The girl stared with her enigmatic blue eyes as she lay the cloak down on the wooden bench before turning away. As she stepped outside the door, brilliant sunshine bounced off her pale yellow hair and made it glow like first sunlight on dewy spider webs. He caught his breath.
Odd girl. And forgetful of her manners, too.
But he'd speak to Thomas about correcting her, rather than do so himself.
* * *
Nay.
Nay, nay, nay! If he told his body often enough, mayhap it would cease its provocations. He had never been a man to be controlled by his passions, and he was not willing to allow it now. Alain had caught himself staring over the top of his silver-trimmed horn cup full of dark wine, watching the girl as she moved about the hall and supervised the supper meal.
He was not the only one. The hall was full of knights and soldiers who followed with covert eyes the servant girl with the yellow braid. Gerard, he thought, showed more than common interest. Mayhap there was an attachment between them.
The thought raised his hackles, yet it was a thought worth pursuing. He'd be less inclined to follow his passions if he knew her to belong to another man. Then that was what he must do. He did not want entanglements that would obstruct his marriage, and it certainly would not be advisable to maintain mistress and wife in the same hall.
He had never intended to have a mistress, once married. Not before now. Nor did he want to ruin the girl, who, despite her servitude seemed to be gently born. He knew little about her, save that she was freeborn, and served where her mother had served before. Mayhap a family down on their fortunes.
"There is little enough to worry us, Alain," said Robert, drawing Alain's attention back to the knights who ate at the trestle table with him. "We do not need all of them, do we?"
"We do not?" He had lost the train of the talk.
"One disgruntled archer, Alain. It is no cause to hold so many here for defense. The castle does not need such a large force until Rufus comes. We should see what needs to be controlled down river."
"Aye. But we will do as we are bidden, and defend and hold this castle. When Rufus needs more men, he will call for them. They will stay, for now."
"You make too much of a scratch, Alain," said Chrétien. "Rufus knows naught of this valley, save what we report to him."
"Your scratch has naught to do with it, Chrétien. What think you, Thomas? Is the threat against this castle more than one disgruntled archer?"
"Aye. Much more."
"Then, from where comes the threat?"
"Strathclyde, largely."
"And not among the knights of this demesne?"
"There are those, as well. Those who have no wish to be in the service of a Norman king, nor to cede their land. You must realize, lord, much of this land has been passed down from father to son for hundreds of years. It is a hard thing to give up willingly. So they would ally with Strathclyde."
"Strathclyde is Malcolm's, now."
"Aye. They would change that, too."
Alain caught his attention wandering, and again forced his gaze away from Edyt and her butter-yellow braid. If he must think about how her hair would flow about her body, he'd do it later.
"And how does this fit with Fyren's plans?"
"They merely take his place. Anwealda, especially." Thomas swirled the dregs of
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