CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‡
New Blood
Their hut was shaped like a cross, with a long room that served as both an eating room and a kitchen, and then two chambers off each side where family members slept. All of the girls were in one chamber while their father, now widowed these past few years, slept in the other.
Antillius’ cottage was cozy and well-kept thanks to three daughters who were as meticulous as their mother had been. This cottage was at least one hundred years old, probably more, built on the foundations of another cottage before it that had also stood for many years. The floor was hard-packed earth in the long room but in the bedchamber where Antillius slept, long ago, someone had laid down colored stones to make a mosaic. It was the portrait of a woman although no one knew exactly who the woman was. Antillius suspected it was another ancestor of his, for the woman was pale and fine-featured like he was.
Lygia, Verity, and Atia rushed into this neat little cottage on a mission. Old Pullum, the crone who was the physician of the village, had asked them to help a wounded woman, and help they would. There was very little excitement in their world so they were most eager for something new and different to accomplish, even if the lady had come with a contingent of several of the largest men they had ever seen. The men were dressed in sheets of metal, with big weapons hanging from their waists, and they were of curious interest to these isolated women.
Lygia, the eldest, was the taskmaster. She had seen twenty years and three, having lost her husband and infant daughter to a sickness two years before during a particularly bad winter. She’d moved back into the family home where her sisters, Verity and Atia, brought her some comfort. They were good sisters, even if they were a little flighty at times – Verity was tall, elegant, and with long copper curls, and Atia, the baby of the family at nineteen years, was a shorter, lighter-haired version of Lygia. But she was extremely bright, and helpful, and as Lygia gave the orders, Verity and Atia followed them precisely.
In the young women’s chamber, chests were opened and items brought forth. Lygia was rushing about, finding drying linens, while her sisters were pulling forth other things needed for cleaning. Linens in hand, Lygia came to a halt in the midst of her rush.
“Why must the lady remain in Pullum’s cottage?” she asked thoughtfully. “Why can we not bring her here? Our chamber is big enough to accommodate her. I should not like to leave the lady with old Pullum.”
Verity had a bar of soft tallow soap in her hand that smelled heavily of the violets they harvested in the forest. “But Pater said we should help, not bring the lady to our home,” she reminded her. “She is an allii, after all.”
Lygia frowned at her sister. “She is a wounded woman who requires help,” she said firmly. “Are you so cruel that you would leave a her with Pullum and not try to take her away from that old witch?”
“Did you see those warriors?” Atia interrupted her sisters’ discussion with her rather dreamy question. “I have never seen men so tall and strong. Where do you suppose they come from? They do not look like Saxon warriors to me.”
Lygia could hear the wistfulness in her youngest sister’s tone. “It does not matter where they come from, dear Atia, because they are not for you,” she reminded her quietly. “Phirinius is your chosen one. He would not like it if you paid attention to another man.”
Atia frowned. “Phirinius is a boy. Those warriors… they are men!”
“And you will put them out of your mind,” Lygia scolded, waving an impatient hand at her sister. “Gather the wash for the hair and find some clean clothes we can lend to the lady. From what I saw, she was wearing rags.”
Unhappy that her conversation about the strange warriors was thwarted, Atia turned back to what she was doing, pulling forth all of the things they used when they bathed – a skin scraper to scrape away the dirt, precious oil from the almonds they collected and pressed last month, and flat ale to wash the hair. Holding up the phial of the almond oil, she looked at it in the light, noting just how much they had left.
“Lygia is right,” she said. “We should simply bring the lady here. We have our tub here and Pullum has not the room for such a thing. Her cottage is very tiny. We should simply bring the lady here to tend her.”
Lygia considered Atia’s support a majority vote. She set the drying linens down. “Then let us go and get her,” she said. “If she cannot walk, we will have one of her men carry her here.”
The thought of seeing the strange warriors again had Atia heading from the chamber rather quickly. “Do you think she is a princess?” she asked. “She has many men with her. Mayhap she requires them for protection.”
Verity, too, seemed to be following her sister at a clipped pace, leading Lygia to believe that Verity might think something of these handsome strangers, as well, even though she’d not said anything. She was the quiet one at times. Lygia was on the heels of her eager sisters.
“It does not matter what she is,” she said. “And you will not ask her, Atia.”
Atia made a face at her sister. “Can I at least ask her about her warriors?”
“Nay!”
“Can I speak with her at all?”
Lygia cocked an eyebrow at her. “Only if you are polite and do not ask foolish questions.”
Quitting the cottage, the young women emerged into an open area beneath the massive tree canopy. Their cottage was set off from the rest, for privacy, and they even had their own bread kiln and stock corral for their pigs and goats. But in heading towards old Pullum’s hut, they had to pass by the central meeting area where the strange warriors and the lone lady had first entered, and Atia was very eager to see if those men were still around. Verity was only slightly less obvious about it, which gave her interest away completely. The two of them were searching eagerly for the strange warriors when they caught sight of the men over near the convening house. Atia grabbed hold of Verity.
“Look!” she hissed, pointing discreetly. “There they are!”
Lygia, who had been walking ahead of them at this point, came to a halt and waited for them to catch up to her. When the pair also came to a halt, gawking at the warriors in the distance, Lygia reached over and grabbed hold of Verity, pulling her and Atia along.
“Stop looking at them as if you’ve never seen men before,” she said. “You are making fools of yourselves.”
Verity was trying to walk but Atia was dragging on her, making the entire procession go quite slowly. Suddenly, their father came into view from behind the convening house and Atia began calling to him, jumping up and down and waving until Lygia grabbed hold of her.
“Stop it!” she hissed at her sister. “Are you trying to show everyone what an idiot you are?”
Atia yanked herself away from her sister and ran straight for her father who, having seen his youngest daughter waving at him, made his way towards his girls. Atia grabbed hold of his arm, pulling on him, as he smiled tolerantly at her.
“Have you gone to Pullum as I have instructed?” he asked his girls.
They nodded in unison but Lygia answered. “We have,” she said. “Pullum asked us to help bathe and tend the lady, but it would be too difficult to do it in Pullum’s hut. May we bring her to ours, Pa?”
Antillius considered it. “It might be better if we put her someplace where she would not be disturbed,” he said. “There would be noise in our cottage with many people walking about. There is an empty hut near the pool since the death of old Drucilla. Why not put her there? It would be quiet and peaceful.”
Lygia thought that was a good idea. “I shall have the copper tub put in that cottage for her,” she said. “We shall go and make her bed. Where are her possessions?”
Antillius shook his head. “With her soldiers, I would imagine,” he said. “I will ask.”
“About the soldiers, Pa,” Atia said, hanging on his arm. “Who are they?”
Antillius knew his youngest well enough to know that she wasn’t asking purely to be polite. Atia had an eye for young men and was quite enamored with the opposite sex as a whole.
“They are from France,” he told her. “They have come to our lands seeking a comrade who has been abducted and they are simply passing through.”
Atia was thrilled to hear they were from a mysterious, far-off land. That’s what France was to the isolated young woman, something she’d only heard about in stories. “Can we speak with them, Pa?” she begged. “I would like to hear of their travels and of their home. Please, can we speak with them?”
Antillius knew that question would come, at some point. He just didn’t think it would come so soon. He patted Atia on her soft cheek. “Not yet,” he said. “I do not know these men. I do not know their hearts. Let me determine that they are men of good character before I permit my daughters to be around them.”
Atia’s face fell with disappointment. “But –!”
Antillius grasped her chin and gave her a gentle shake. “Not yet,” he told her firmly. “We have allowed these men into our world but I do not trust them yet. We do not know them. You will stay away from them until such time as I deem it appropriate to have contact with them. If you do not obey me, I will take a branch to you, Atia. Do you understand?”
Atia sighed heavily, grossly disappointed. “Aye,” she said. “But I have heard you speak of finding new blood for our people, Pa. You have said yourself that our numbers are less and less every year, that less babies are born. Would not men such as these bring the new blood you have spoken of?”
Antillius had, indeed, spoken of that very thing at times; after centuries of inbreeding and sickness, his people were a dying race. He knew that. He had hoped for strong husbands for his daughters to bring new bloodlines into their tribe. And it was, indeed, possible that these warriors were the new blood that he had hoped for, but it was far too early to tell. He couldn’t even guess. As he told Atia, he did not know these men. He didn’t know their hearts or their deeds and, until he did, he would continue to be wary of them.
“I cannot know this and you will not speak of it again,” he said, kissing Atia’s unhappy face before turning to his elder daughters. “I have just seen Pullum over near the kitchens and she is finished binding the lady’s leg, so go and prepare the empty cottage for her. Get along with your tasks and I will see you later.”
The girls nodded and he headed off, moving in the general direction of their cottage. Lygia turned in the same direction, pulling her sisters along.
“You have heard him,” she said. “Let us prepare Drucilla’s old cottage for our guest. Atia, did you find something for her to wear?”
Atia made a face at her sister but that face quickly changed into a fake smile when Lygia turned to look at her. Lygia knew her sister was upset with her but that couldn’t be helped. Strangers in their midst had them all edgy with excitement and some fear, for it was extremely rare for them to have any visitors at all.
Truth be told, Lygia was already thinking ahead to the meal that night. She and her sisters would help supervise the meal, as daughters of the tribal chief, and she was already wondering how she was going to keep Atia from making a fool of herself over the handsome strangers.
Secretly, Lygia thought they were fairly handsome as well.
Gaetan had bedded many women in his life, but not like this.
Never, like this.
In the old woman’s hut, as the sounds of a gentle rain began to fall outside, Ghislaine and Gaetan were only partially disrobed as their bodies came together in the ancient primal mating rhythm. Because of Ghislaine’s bad leg, she ended up on her hands and knees, her tattered trousers down around one ankle and her cote and shift up around her shoulders as the bulk of her tender white body was laid wide for Gaetan’s touch.
Her buttocks were elevated to him as he held her aloft by the hips, his manhood deep in her body as he thrust repeatedly into her, trying to keep any pounding off of her right leg. It was tricky, to be sure, and Ghislaine was contorted rather oddly, but the beauty of the moment, the sensuality of it, was beyond measure.
Having been married before, Ghislaine knew how to welcome a man’s body. She knew how to move with him, and how to give him pleasure, because the moment Gaetan had entered her, she’d tightened up the muscles of her slick sheath to maximize his bliss. Gaetan had groaned with delight when he felt her body contract around him but the excitement of it, and her expert touch, very nearly threw him into a climax at the onset.
He had to still himself, slapping her buttocks gently to distract both him and her from what she was doing, but the slap against her buttocks had given Ghislaine the first of what had, so far, been two releases. Gaetan had felt them both against his manroot, that great throbbing that signified a woman’s satisfaction.
He wasn’t able, at the moment, to touch any other part of her body because of the way he held her hips elevated against his, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Everything he was doing below the waist, with his manhood as he ground his pelvis against her buttocks, was enough for the moment. He never knew lovemaking could be so euphoric to his heart or so satisfying to his soul.
It was heaven.
But he could feel his climax coming on and he had been for some time; it had been an effort to hold it off, to enjoy the moment. This was the woman he had fallen in love with, that he would marry, and that would bear his legitimate children. That knowledge was the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world to him.
As he carefully lowered her onto her left knee to take the brunt of her weight while he kept the right leg elevated, his left hand roamed her soft and tender body, fondling her sweet breasts, listening to her groan with pleasure. Breasts that will nurse my children, he thought, but a body that belongs to me.
Me!
He found himself wishing she would conceive his son this day; that his seed would find its mark. Surely God would listen to his prayers as he prayed for a strong son to carry on his legacy from this powerful brave woman who was very quickly consuming him.
When his hand moved to the moist junction between her legs, Ghislaine endured her third and most powerful climax yet. It was enough to throw Gaetan over the edge and he released himself deep into her body. But even then, his hips continued to move as if he didn’t want the moment to end, drawing it out, savoring it, gently thrusting into her until he could thrust no more. Then, he lowered himself down next to her and very carefully took her into his arms.
Ghislaine was sure that she was only half-conscious. She was in a dream state, somewhere between life and death and utter bliss. Her eyes were partially open as she lay wrapped up in Gaetan’s arms, staring at a stone wall that had pots and buckets shoved up against it. Gaetan’s mouth was by her ear and he kissed it, gently.
“Considering how ill and injured you have been, I should be considered quite a brute for forcing myself upon you as I did,” he murmured. “I pray you are not injured further.”
Ghislaine put a hand up, holding his head against hers and savoring their closeness. “I believe I am the one who instigated it,” she whispered. “I pray you do not think less of me for it.”
“Think less of you? God, no. I think you are a goddess.”
She smiled, laughing softly when she heard his gentle laughter in her ear. “Thank you,” she said. “You are most kind, my lord.”
“You did not answer me – I did not injure you further, did I?”
“You did not. I am no worse off than I was before.”
“You really should rest. And I should see to my men.”
Ghislaine sighed faintly. “I do not like the thought of you leaving me now.”
He kissed her ear one last time before propping himself up so he could look at her. “Nor do I,” he said, “but unless you wish to announce to the world that you bedded me, I should leave for propriety’s sake. But I do intend to tell my men tonight that you have consented to be my bride. That way, when I tell them we want privacy, they will understand.”
His eyes were twinkling as he said it, bringing a grin to her lips. But that smile soon faded. “What will you tell Aramis?”
Gaetan’s humor quickly left him. “We had an understanding, he and I,” he said. “He would permit me to express my feelings to you first. If you did not return my feelings, then I gave him permission to pursue you. I suppose now he shall simply have to accept defeat gracefully.”
“And if he does not?”
“You will leave that to me.”
Ghislaine simply nodded. It would be more his business than hers if Aramis was not a gracious loser because the conflict would be between them and them alone. She reached up, touching his rough cheek.
“He is a nice man,” she said. “I do not wish to hurt him.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “I realize that, but there are things in life we cannot control and this is one of them,” he said as he pushed himself up to sit. “Now, you will stay here and rest that leg. I shall return shortly to see how you are faring.”
“Promise?”
He took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a sweet kiss. “I will never leave your side if I can help it, Mousie. You must remember that. And even if I do have to leave you for a time, you will not come chasing after me. I will always return to you.”
The words comforted Ghislaine deeply. She stroked his cheek, feeling like she was still living a dream. Would she wake up from this only to realize there was no spoken feelings between them? God, she hoped not. She would be shattered. At this moment, this stolen and golden moment, she was happier and more content than she had ever been in her life. She had Gaetan.
She had everything.
But any further words were cut off by a knock at the heavy oaken door. Startled, Gaetan immediately rose to his knees, pulling his trousers up and securing them in a hurry.
“Who goes?” he demanded.
There was a slight hesitation. “It is Lygia, my lord,” she said nervously. “We have come to help the lady.”
Gaetan wriggled his eyebrows at Ghislaine, a comical gesture, as he quickly helped her pull the skirt of her cote down. He also helped her smooth her hair and right her bodice, anything to remove the remnants of their carnal activities. When she was covered and straightened, he rose to his feet and went to the door, opening it.
Three lovely young women were standing in the entry, looking at Gaetan with some nervousness. It was Lygia who spoke again.
“I have come to take the lady to a cottage where she can rest and recover in peace,” she said. “It is not far from here.”
Gaetan glanced over at Ghislaine, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and trying to look quite innocent. Who, me? Having seduced a man? Never! He almost grinned, nearly able to read her thoughts.
“This cottage is fine for her needs,” he said, letting no smile break forth at Ghislaine’s attempts to play the innocent maiden. “You do not need to trouble yourselves by moving her.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but this hut belongs to old Pullum,” Lygia said. “It would be quite crowded for the lady, not to mention the fact that Pullum would not be the friendliest person to live with. The cottage we have prepared will be much better for her.”
Gaetan looked at Ghislaine to see what her reaction was to all of this. Meeting Gaetan’s eye, Ghislaine nodded somewhat eagerly at him before addressing the young women.
“It is very kind of you to do this,” she said. “I will come.”
Lygia moved in to help her stand but Gaetan was already there, sweeping her up into his big arms and carrying her from the cramped cottage. As Camulos trotted out on Gaetan’s heels, Lygia indicated for him to follow her as Verity and Atia followed behind, taking the opportunity to inspect every inch of the massive, very handsome warrior.
Lygia could see what her sisters were doing and she was embarrassed by it. Fearful Gaetan would become wise to what her sisters were doing, she hastened to keep his attention.
“I do hope your leg is not paining you too terribly,” she said to Ghislaine. “My father said that you had a battle wound.”
Cradled in Gaetan’s arms, Ghislaine replied. “We were ambushed while traveling,” she said. “It is an arrow wound and I have managed to tear the stitches, unfortunately. Your healer was very kind to stitch the wound up again.”
Lygia looked at her, greatly concerned. “What terrible fortune,” she said. “Are you feeling any better now?”
Ghislaine looked right at Gaetan, struggling not to grin. “Much, much better.”
Lygia didn’t miss the expressions of warmth that passed between the lady and the enormous warrior. In fact, it tugged at her heart because, once, she had looked at her husband with the same expression. Feeling sad, and perhaps even a little jealous, she turned away.
“Then I am glad,” she said.
Lygia didn’t say anything more after that, leading then through a series of neat rows of cottages until they reached a great pool of clear water beneath the oak trees. The stream ran right into the pool and then out another end of it to continue on, so there was a constant supply of fresh water in the pool. Women were washing their clothes on rocks on the edge of the pool while children played nearby. It was a bucolic scene as Lygia led Ghislaine and Gaetan to a cottage at the end of a row of small structures and opened the door.
“Here we are,” she said. “The lady will be quite comfortable here. We have already prepared a fire for hot water and we will tend the lady while you go about your business. We shall take great care of her, my lord.”
Gaetan didn’t doubt the woman for a minute. She seemed sincere enough and he was comfortable leaving Ghislaine in her care. Moreover, Ghislaine could take care of herself. Even wounded, she would be able to defend herself against these three rather pale-looking women. Gaetan had great faith in her abilities; Ghislaine wasn’t some foolish woman that needed looking after.
That was one of the things he admired so much about her.
Ducking under the door, Gaetan took Ghislaine right to a small bed that was built into an alcove in the one-room cottage. It was a comfortable little place, and warm with the fire in the crude hearth, and there were already two big pots of water steaming on the fire. Satisfied that Ghislaine would be well-tended, he turned to her.
“I must see to my horse and speak with my men,” he told her. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Ghislaine smiled, sorry to see him go, but so very glad that they had spent this precious time together. It had been one of the most moving and important moments of her life, now to know that Warwolfe, the most powerful Norman knight in the realm, belonged to her. And she belonged to him.
She loved him.
“You need not rush,” she told him, glancing at Lygia and her timid sisters. “I believe I am in good hands.”
Gaetan’s gaze lingered on her a moment, feeling the same thing that she was feeling. He was sad to leave but so very glad they’d been able to share some time together. Something about that moment he’d shared with her seemed to make his life complete, filling him with a contentment he’d never known.
With a subtle wink meant only for her, he left the cottage, leaving Ghislaine dreaming of her heroic knight, the Norman enemy she’d finally given her heart to.
And she didn’t regret any of it.