In the north Gospatric found himself with no real army with which to defy the king he had so rashly challenged. It seemed that those n.o.bles who had so firmly agreed with him while they were all in their cups could not be distracted from their personal feuds and factional fighting to come to his aid against William. Choosing the lesser evil, Gospatric surrendered to King Malcolm of Scotland, and went into exile with the young Atheling.

William then turned his eye, and his armies, to Earls Edwin and Morkar. Both had sworn their loyalty to him. He had even honored them by having them take part in his wife's coronation. They repaid his kindness by rebelling against him. Worst of all, they had broken their sworn oath before G.o.d to uphold him and his rights as their king. For William this was the greater of their two sins. His superior forces swept down on them. The Mercians and the Welsh fled, panicked before William's armies. The last of the rebellions for that year was broken.

The king ordered that castles be raised at Leicester, Warwick, and Nottingham. One of the king's loyalists, Robert de Meulan, was created Earl of Leicestershire, and made overlord of a huge portion of Earl Edwin's Mercian lands. Josselin felt safer for his new neighbor. York had surrendered without a battle on Gospatric's desertion, and one of the queen's cousins, Robert de Commines, was made the new Earl of Northumbria. As the year 1068 drew to a close, England, south of the Humber, appeared to be appeased and content with the king.

William, heading for Gloucester with a party of his knights, stopped unexpectedly at Aelfleah to shelter for a night. There were close to forty men in the king's party, and although Mairin knew she could house them somehow she wondered how she was going to feed them on such short notice. They had arrived shortly after midday, which she hoped would allow her time to arrange for an evening meal.

She ordered that a young steer be slain, and at least three dozen chickens. Egbert the bailiff sent several young men into The Forest and the successful hunters returned in short order with a young buck, and a number of rabbits which were quickly skinned, boned, and pied. The beef and the deer were roasted slowly over open fires. The chickens, at least six to a spit, were stuffed with grain and dried apples to be roasted in the kitchens. There would be cold mutton in ample supply and plenty of trout from the river. Dandelion greens were steamed in white wine, and there were pickled whole beets. The men at the castle site would be somewhat short of bread due to the emergency, but when Dagda explained to each master craftsman who in turn explained to his own men, they understood. Mairin sent several barrels of cider to the workmen to express their thanks. Large wheels of cheese were ready to be placed upon the tables along with the bowls of grapes, pears, and apples.

Convinced that all was in readiness, Mairin smiled victoriously at Eada. "Well, mother?"

"I taught you well, my daughter," said Eada returning the smile. "I have never entertained a King of England, but you have naught to be ashamed of, for I doubt any chatelaine in any fine castle could have prepared a better meal on such short notice. I am proud of you!"

"I, too," said Josselin, coming in and looking about Aelfleah's hall. The fire burned brightly and warmed the room pleasantly. The well-polished trestles with their wooden cups at each place and the trenchers of fresh bread were inviting. Along the sides of the room, barrels of wine, ale, and cider were in readiness.

"Mother and I will eat in the solar," said Mairin. "This is an evening for the gentlemen."

The king had gone with Josselin to inspect the castle site, and he was pleased with what he found. The outer curtain was close to being finished, for they had had uncommonly good weather since the spring, and it was yet mild enough in this early December for the workmen to continue. The inner curtain walls were already being raised. When bad weather came they would be able to work inside each gatehouse, finishing it.

"You'll have Aldford finished by a year from this spring," said William, his tone approving.

"If I get another spring, summer, and autumn like this year's we will, my lord. If not, it may not be for another two years. I've a good engineer in Master Gilleet, a good bailiff in Dagda, and uncommonly good work-men."

"You have decided to make your wife's servant bailiff of Aldford, Joss?"

"Aye, my lord. He was born a freedman, and was once a feared warrior. His history is a long and a fascinating one. What is important to me, however, is his total loyalty, his integrity, and the fact that he is enormously well liked here. The manor bailiff has never been away from Aelfleah, and is not sophisticated enough to run Aldford. Egbert did not expect to have charge over the castle. He is a man lacking in ambition. He far prefers a world that is basically an unchanging one."

"Has Dagda sworn his fealty to you?" the king inquired.

"Aye! If I am not here he will hold Aldford for you to the last drop of blood."

"You have done well for me, Josselin de Combourg, Baron Aldford, a rank that will be pa.s.sed down to your sons and your sons' sons until that time, may it never come, when there are no longer any de Combourgs. The papers will eventually come from court to confirm this, but I shall announce it at supper tonight. Your wife should be pleased. She carries the child well. Pray G.o.d it is the next Baron Aldford she houses within her belly."

"Amen!" said Josselin fervently.

It was not, however, a son that Mairin birthed on February 2nd. It was a healthy daughter. Mairin had insisted upon lighting her Imbolc fire at a spot near the castle site. Josselin had insisted upon accompanying her and Dagda, for the path was steep, and his wife was huge with their child. He did not approve of her loyalty to the old Celtic way, and she knew it. She also knew he would not forbid her.

"Look!" She pointed with a graceful finger toward the valleys of Wales below them. "Did I not tell you, my lord? Dagda and I are not alone."

As her own fire had been lit, pinpoints of light had appeared in the dales of Cymru beneath them. Mairin threw back her head and laughed joyously as the flames leapt skyward into the indigo night. She felt happy, for her world was a good place. Once more she had kept faith with her heritage, and made strong again the fragile link with her long-dead and barely remembered natural parents. Then the dull ache that had nagged her back all day grew into a sudden pain of such intensity that she cried out.

"My lord!" she gasped. "You must help me back to the house, for our child wishes to be born."

"Can you walk?" he asked nervously.

"Aye." She nodded, a small, tight smile on her face. "Dagda, tend the flame until the proper moment."

" 'Tis done, my lady," he said quietly. "I will say my own prayers."

Slowly, Mairin and Josselin made their way back down the precipitous path. Once they had to stop. Mairin took her husband's hands and squeezed them fiercely, panting, great beads of sweat popping out all over her forehead. Then as the pain subsided she moved on to gain the house before the next tearing wrench came. To everyone's relief, however, Mairin had a quick and an easy labor. Maude Eada Marie de Combourg was born shortly after midnight, slipping into the world with a sputtering howl that grew in volume until the entire manor house had been made aware of her arrival.

If her parents were initially thwarted by her s.e.x, their disappointment was quickly overcome with the knowledge that they had easily produced a wonderfully healthy and beautiful child. There would be other children. Eada was immediately thrilled by her granddaughter, and the fact that the child would bear her name among others. "Maude" was an English version of "Matilda," and "Marie" was for both the saint and for Mairin's natural mother, Maire. Had the baby been the desired son, he would have been called William.

Mairin cradled her finally silent but sleepless daughter who, now swaddled, stared up at her mother with strangely adult eyes. Mairin smiled down at the baby. "She looks like you, Josselin. See! She has your tawny hair, and although her eyes be baby blue now, I would not wonder if they turned the green-gold of yours. And here is your nose in miniature!"

He grinned, and it was as if he was entirely responsible for Maude's arrival. "She does look like me, doesn't she?" he said, pleased.

Eada's eyes met those of her daughter and the two women smiled.

"It is good to have a baby in the house," said Dagda in a mellow voice, and he touched Maude's satiny cheek with his big finger.

"Oh, no!" said Josselin. "You are bailiff of Aldford now, and I need you! Your days of child-rearing are over, Dagda, my friend."

"I will nonetheless keep an eye on the lady Maude as I did with her grandmother and her mother," said the big man. "I will not neglect my duties as your bailiff, my lord. You may always count on me."

Maude de Combourg was baptized the next day in Aelfleah church, her grandmother and Dagda taking their vows as her G.o.dparents. Mairin felt well enough to sit at the table in the solar, while her child slept, and write to Josselin's parents announcing Maude's birth. She had only written them once before, and then in Josselin's name, telling them of his success in England, and their marriage. Now she wrote them in her own right, sharing their happiness over little Maude's arrival, and informing them that the king had personally raised their son from a mere knight to the rank of baron. They had not written back the first time, and she had not expected them to, but she could not help but wonder if they were proud of their elder son who had made his own way in the world despite the accident of his birth.

Then winter came to an end, and with the longer days of spring, work once again began upon the castle in earnest. Mairin was now glad of it. There were rumors heard, even in remote Aelfleah, that Sweyn Estrithson, the king of the Danes, was planning an attack upon England.

"Will it never end?" demanded Mairin irritably of her husband. "Why must men constantly war with one another?"

"I cannot answer such a question, but I know there will be no easy peace for England. Not until King William has beaten them all in battle, I am afraid," admitted Josselin. "England has always been a plum ripe for the picking, and many have enjoyed its fruits. The Normans must prove they are strong enough to hold England, and until all the English agree to honestly support the king, we are vulnerable. The north is still restless and uncertain. I do not think it is over yet, but here in Aelfleah we are safe, and we will await the outcome of whatever is to happen."

Now in the spring of the year 1069 the people of Aelfleah learned that in late January past, just before the birth of Maude, a revolt had broken out again in the north. Robert de Commines and his force of knights were trapped and ma.s.sacred in Durham. The king had returned north in March to defeat the rebels who, at that point, were besieging York. Successful, he had departed south to hold his Easter court at Winchester, leaving William FitzOsbern to hold the north.

Summer came, and with it the antic.i.p.ated invasion by the Danes. A fleet of two hundred and forty ships under the command of King Sweyn's two sons, Harold and c.n.u.t, and his brother, Jarl Osbiorn, arrived first off Kent. Their move up the east coast of England to the mouth of the Humber was a signal for a general uprising in Yorkshire. Young Edgar the Atheling was now fourteen, and filled to overflowing with enthusiasm, ambition, and high spirits. He had been dissuaded from returning to Hungary, and with his fellow English exiles Earl Waltheof and Gospatric had joined with the Danes. Ten thousand strong they marched upon the city of York, which easily fell to them on September 20th.

The Danes then fortified Axholme Island, and dispersed themselves over north Lincolnshire where they were welcomed by the peasant population who wanted no further trouble. The northern rising encouraged other risings of a minor nature in Dorset, Somerset, south Cheshire, and Staffordshire. By now the king had had more than enough. How could he build a strong England when the land and its people were constantly being beset from both within and without? England had too long been a battleground for those wishing to play at war. The bulk of the country had settled down. The bad example of the north could eventually cause serious problems throughout the entire land.

William was a decent man. He considered himself a good Christian, but these were hard times. Even the church agreed with him that an example must be made of those who would defy the king's authority. They did not, however, antic.i.p.ate the harsh cruelty of what was to come.

The king marched north once more, moving toward Axholme. With his coming, the Danish forces eased themselves back over the Humber to York. William's younger brother, the Count of Mortain, and his friend the Count of Eu were left in charge of that part of the expedition. A new rebellion had arisen in the west led by Eadric the Wild and his Welsh allies.

It was Josselin de Combourg who had sent the king word of this latest difficulty, and it was Josselin, with his small but well-trained troop of soldiers, who had held Eadric at bay just long enough for the king to get there. The Welsh princes disappeared magically back into the hills from whence they had come. Eadric was defeated, but once more escaped the Normans. Josselin returned to Aelfleah to personally tell his wife he would be rejoining the king in his battle to subdue the north once and for all.

"The king needs as great a show of force as he can muster," Josselin explained to his wife.

"Then go," she said, "but promise me you will be careful. We have a family now."

He had never felt more pride for anyone than he felt for her as he departed their home. She had offered him a stirrup cup, and then sent him forth with dignity, standing proudly before the door of their house. He did not know that when he had pa.s.sed from her sight she had gone quietly to their chamber to weep silently alone. She feared for him. She would not fret him, however, with those fears. In that moment of her darkest hour, Mairin knew she had at last left her childhood far behind her.

Josselin and his men rode to meet the king at Nottingham, but by the time they had reached it, William, learning that the Danes planned to attempt a reoccupation of York, had gone north again. Josselin followed, easily finding his way, for the king in his anger and impatience left a swath of devastation of such enormity that the north would never really recover. No distinction was made between rebel and loyalist. The land was scorched, and every living male the king's men could find, animal or man, was put to the sword.

Granaries, farms, manors, castles, churches, monasteries, and convents were all burnt to the ground. The air was heavy with smoke and the smell of rotting flesh. Nothing was left that could possibly support life. The king's vengeance was a terrible thing, but there would be no more rebellions in the north because there was no one left in the north. The innocent had suffered along with the guilty, and even the church, which had encouraged William to make an example, was horrified by his actions.

They reached York in mid-December, and the king decided to hold his Christmas court in the burnt city. Messengers were dispatched summoning the n.o.bility to York. At the king's command, Josselin sent for Mairin to join them. It was, he wrote, a royal command. She could not refuse.

"But I can't go!" Mairin wailed. "Maude is far too young to travel."

"Leave her," said Eada. "Of course you cannot take her. She is far better off here at home."

"But who will feed her, mother? She is only ten months old, and still nursing."

"There are plenty of women in the village with nursing babies and milk to spare. The miller's wife! She has b.r.e.a.s.t.s like jugs, and is forever complaining her son doesn't drain her. It is time you stopped nursing Maude. You must go to your husband. I will have Enid move in here this very day with her son. Weorth could use a respite from her chatter. Make yourself a potion to dry your milk, and bind your b.r.e.a.s.t.s, Mairin. By the time you reach York you will be fit for Josselin, and I do not think he will be unhappy that you are so," Eada finished with a broad smile.

He had sent a small troop of heavily armed men to escort his wife, but they could not screen her from the horrors she saw as they rode. Mairin was appalled at the wretchedness and the wholesale homicide that had taken place in the king's name. Her purse was empty by the time they were halfway to York, for she could not refuse the shoeless women with their haunted eyes, and their clinging, weeping daughters. She went hungry most nights, and shamed her men into sharing their own rations with the homeless, wandering refugees. The worst cases she sent on to Aelfleah to Eada for refuge.

She reached York on December 23rd, and was led by her men to a small anonymous tent set among many in the burnt-out city. Within was a small brazier that gave off a feeble warmth. She had brought with her fresh clothing for her husband and bedding for them to share. Stakes were driven into the dirt floor of the shelter, and two large cured and tanned hides that had been sewn together were stretched and fastened between them. Atop the hides she made a bed of furs. She set two additional braziers on either side of their bed and placed kindling and hot coals from the other braziers in each. Shortly the tent began to feel a bit more habitable.

It was not long before Josselin had come, and he had swept her up into his arms inhaling the sweetness of her. "I have missed you so," he said simply. "I find I do not like being separated from someone I love." Releasing her he looked about, and then, his eyes lighting upon the newly made camp bed, he smiled. "What luxury, enchantress! I have slept on the ground wrapped in my cloak these past weeks. You have no idea how I have longed for our bed at Aelfleah."

Mairin chuckled. "You have grown soft with the good living of our home, my lord. This expedition has been good for you, I'll vow." Then her eyes grew sad. "G.o.d's mercy, Josselin! Never had I seen such terrible suffering and devastation as I have seen these last few days. It is horrible! Was it necessary? Really necessary?"

For a moment he turned his eyes from her, and then looking directly at her he said, "It was necessary. The peasants welcomed our enemies. Their lords forsook their oaths to uphold the king. How many times in the last three years has William been forced north to put down their treasons? The king is no saint, Mairin. He is a man, and he has his limits. Even when they ma.s.sacred his wife's kin, Robert de Commines, last January, he forgave them. This he could not. He has destroyed Northumbria and York and wasted their lands. They will trouble him no more."

"When can you come home?" she asked, realizing that his part in the king's revenge must be painful, and that the subject was now closed.

"After he holds his Christmas court, we are both free to return to Aelfleah."

"The king makes a strong point holding his Christmas court in York," Mairin noted.

"Aye, but it is a point well taken," replied Josselin. "It is rumored that Earls Waltheof and Gospatric will submit and be pardoned after Twelfth Night."

"That is outrageous!" cried Mairin. " 'Tis their fault all of this happened. They broke their sacred oaths to the king, and encouraged that beardless boy, Edgar the Atheling, and his Scots allies. Now Waltheof and Gospatric will be pardoned? What of the Atheling, Earls Edwin and Morkar?"

"Those three fled back to Scotland," said Josselin.

"I am surprised King Malcolm puts up with such guests," Mairin muttered.

"Edgar the Atheling's elder sister, Margaret, married the Scots king this autumn past. They are now kin, and he is forced to put up with the lad."

"Will the Scots king support Edgar the Atheling?"

"Not seriously," said Josselin. "Malcolm is too concerned with his own country. Remember, he has only recently overthrown his uncle, MacBeth, to regain a throne that was rightfully his. He spent his youth in exile at King Edward's court, and his only brother was raised in Ireland. He has too much to do in his own country to be bothered with a half-grown brother-in-law's problems. It is for his wife's sake, I suspect, he got involved this time. He is newly wed to Margaret and, rumor would have it, totally infatuated with his bride."

"Why are we speaking on politics?" she suddenly asked him.

They had been standing facing one another as they spoke. Now he put his arms back around her, and drew her into his embrace.

"Because you started it, my beautiful enchantress. I have been separated from you for almost two months, Mairin. There are things I would far rather do with you than stand here in speech." He kissed the tip of her nose, his generous mouth quirking with amus.e.m.e.nt at the smoky look that sprang into her eyes.

"Indeed, my lord," she said softly, and strained closer to him. She could feel the muscled hardness of his thighs through his tunic. Her hands slid up his chest and she wrapped her arms about his neck. The tip of her tongue raced across her upper lip. Teasingly her fingers played with the muscled back of his neck, and she pressed the lower half of her torso suggestively against his body.

A slow smile lit his eyes. "Lady," he said, "you display a behavior most wanton."

"You do not find the bed I brought tempting, my lord? Shall I have it dismantled, and we will sleep separately upon the cold ground?"

"If you do not stop rubbing yourself against me in that shameless way, my enchantress, it will not matter. I am so hot for you right now that I could tumble you anywhere! That delicious-looking bed of furs you have arranged, or even upon the hard ground! Alas, we cannot. Not now at least. When the king heard you had arrived he requested that we join him in his tent for supper. He attempts to make it as normal a Christmas court as one can hold in the burnt-out ruin of a city." Then he laughed, for she made no attempt whatsoever to hide her obvious disappointment. "Sweeting, the nights are longest now. We shall lose little by waiting."

"It will sharpen our appet.i.te for one another," she answered him. "That was what Basil used to say to me. Oh, very well, my lord, there is no help for us now. Can your squire get me some water with which to wash off the dust of my travels? I cannot appear before the king looking like this." Removing herself from his arms, she began to unbind her long hair.

He called for his squire, Loial, who immediately brought water, and having greeted his lady politely, discreetly departed. Josselin sat upon the edge of the camp bed and watched his wife comb out her long red-gold hair. Erotic images arose unbidden within his mind's eye. He pictured Mairin nude, her milk-white skin gleaming in the firelight, her wonderful hair swirling about her body. A small groan escaped him, and she looked up from her task.

"My lord?"

He shook his head. "It is nothing, enchantress." A neat lie, he thought. He wanted her. He wanted her here and now. d.a.m.n the king who had called for a Christmas court to be held in York. Had he not, I might be home in my own bed with my beautiful wife!

Mairin rebraided her hair up neatly, and then washed her hands and face in the icy water Loial had brought. She shook out her dark green skirts, and smoothed the matching tunic, retying the gold rope girdle about her slender waist. Rummaging amongst her scant luggage she drew out a sheer gold veil and a small twisted gold chaplet studded with tiny freshwater pearls, and placed them upon her head. Picking up her fur-lined cloak she said, "I am ready now, my lord."

His glazed eyes refocused themselves, and seeing her fully dressed, he sighed. "So you are, Mairin," he said sadly, and rising, took her hand.

"What were you thinking of?" she asked him as they hurried through the encampment to the king's dining tent.

"Of how sweet it is to make love to you," he said. "Of how I wish we were home at Aelfleah, free of royal commands so I might feast upon your flesh in the privacy of our own chamber, and not upon tough and ill-cooked venison within the king's tent."

"Oh, Josselin," she answered him, "your thoughts but echo my own!"

He stopped then, and there in the middle of the encampment, heedless of what went on about him, he kissed her tenderly. "Tomorrow we will be wed three years, enchantress, and on St. Stephen's Day, I vow we will depart for Aelfleah!"

They were welcomed into the king's makeshift hall, a large tent, and joined with the other ladies and gentlemen who had journeyed from all over England to help the king celebrate Christmas. It was as festive and merry an evening as any might have been, but they were nonetheless glad when they were able to leave the hall to return to their own small shelter.

Loial was nowhere to be found, but the three braziers were burning brightly, and the tent was warm. A flask and two wooden goblets had been placed upon the single stool they possessed. They both smiled, thinking that Loial was a romantic young man. Quickly they pulled their clothing off, and standing in the dim, flickering light cast by the braziers, they caressed each other's bodies. Then hand in hand they walked to their bed and slipped beneath the furs to cuddle.

"What of Maude?" he asked her, caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and noting they were once more firm, the berry-brown nipples thrusting.

"Enid, the miller's wife, will nurse her from now on," Mairin replied, reaching out to fondle a familiar masculine b.u.t.tock. "Do you mind?"

"No," he mumbled from the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as his two hands gently crushed the flesh of those b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His tongue stroked back and forth along that deep dale. He was mounted upon her, his thighs imprisoning her. He sat back now to play with those twin temptations, and she reached out to cup and fondle his s.e.x.

"I love your manhood," she said softly as she caressed him. "When it is little and at rest it has the sweetness of a child, but I love it best when you grow long and thick and hard for me, my Josselin. I love it when you fill me full of yourself, and that great beast throbs its message of love within me."

"Do you want me to f.u.c.k you now?" he demanded.

"Yes! Oh, please, yes!"

"You are impatient, enchantress," he said, tweaking her nipples teasingly. "Pa.s.sion, like good wine, should be savored."

"One can always savor the second cup, my lord," she answered, teasing a pearl of fluid to the tip of his manhood, "but when one is dying of thirst, one should drink!"

"Oh, you tempting b.i.t.c.h!" he groaned, entangling his big hands within her thick hair to cup her head, and raise her up so he might kiss her. Their mouths fused bruisingly together, and he felt her guiding him into her body at the same moment that she slipped him her tongue. For a moment he was shocked by the incredible sensation of total bliss that engulfed him. Then slowly regaining his control, he began to move rhythmically upon her.

Mairin shuddered with pure pleasure as she guided the hot length of him within her, and felt him filling her. It was incredible that after all this time their pa.s.sion for each other only deepened and grew. At the moment he had entered her she had pushed her tongue within the cavity of his mouth, and she had felt a tremor go through him. It always thrilled her that she could make him as weak with excitement as he made her. Pulling her mouth away from his she turned her head, and with her teeth worried at his earlobe. The pointed end of her tongue swept about the sh.e.l.l of his ear, and she blew gently. "f.u.c.k me, dearling," she whispered frantically at him. "Oh, f.u.c.k me!"

He needed to master her this night. The blood l.u.s.t was still hot in his body, and he had a need to dominate. Sitting back upon his heels, still buried within her, he yanked her arms up and pinioned them along the side of her head. Leaning forward slightly, he thrust fiercely into her, and then drew himself almost completely out of her body, only to drive forward once more. Her whimpering, mewling cries urged him to greater pa.s.sion.

With each thrust of his pelvis a shower of stars exploded within her brain. His ferocity frightened her somewhat, and she half-struggled against him. With a low growl of hunger he forced her to his will, finding her mouth again, and kissing her with such ardor that she almost fainted. It had never been quite like this. There had always been pa.s.sion and tenderness between them. This was wildness, a wildness that brought sudden, intense pleasure and elation.

Then her fear was gone, and she pushed up to meet his downward thrust. His fierceness had unleashed an equal fierceness within her. She desired him so very much. She had longed for him all the long nights of their separation, wanted him with a burning hunger she had never before experienced in her life. Her nails raked down the smooth expanse of his back, and he groaned.