"This is a rich land. Among my people at Godstone there are many artisans. The cloth alone that the young women weave is so beautiful it will bring in a fortune if exported to France," answered Guy.
"Soon all the ladies and the whole court will be at London. You would be wise to give us first choice, before exporting it to France. What other artisans have you discovered?"
"When you have examined the treasures more closely you will see what exquisite jewelry is produced. I have also noticed the quality of the wool is much thicker, probably something to do with the climate. All you need do is look at the sheep and you can see they are superior to ours."
"Splendor of God, watch out or they will turn you into a farmer, Montgomery" he laughed.
"Any word from Robert, my lord?" asked Guy, referring to his friend Mortain, another of William's half-brothers.
"Ah, splendid news indeed. A rider arrived yesterday to tell me he is far west of London in the Chiltern Hills. He hopes to take a castle called Berkhamstead. With Robert I have thrust a spearhead between my enemies before they could join forces. You will be seeing him before this campaign is over, once London capitulates."
Guy smiled to himself. William spoke as if it were a foregone conclusion, but of course that was William's way.
"All your men are mounted, are they not, Montgomery? Join up with St. Cloud, I believe his unit is mounted also. Go out as a scouting party Sweep the country before the main body of the army and clear out any hot spots."
As they sat around their camp fires that night, a company of traveling players came among them to entertain. They sang, danced, and bedded with the men; in fact anything to get their silver coins from them. Guy sat with his men, silently contemplating the girl who was dancing at his camp fire. She was young, slim, exciting, inviting, and her voluptuous beauty and flaming red hair were a vivid contrast to the Saxon women.
He gazed into the flames and ached for Lillyth. The dance was purposely taunting and suggestive, and sex was uppermost in the mind of every man who watched her. They kept one eye on their leader because if he wanted her they would concede, but if not they were ready to fight one another to see who would be first.
Guy's loins throbbed, and a dull ache started deep in his belly and spread uncomfortably to his groin. The wineskin he had been drinking from was half-empty, and more than just keeping out the chill, the wine had heated his blood to a fiery degree. He beckoned the girl to his tent. With a flash of white teeth and a contemptuous sidelong glance at the other men, she followed him quickly. She slid against him boldly and her hand went immediately to the enormous bulge in his chausses. She stuck her other hand out and waggled the fingers in front of his face. "First you must show me the color of your money," she said, darting her tongue quickly around her lips.
Guy looked down at the girl and he noticed she was none too clean. An odor of sweat, acrid and pungent, assailed his nostrils, and he was filled with revulsion as he thought about the disease he might pick up and pass along to Lillyth. He quickly slipped a coin into her hand and whispered, "Not tonight, sweetheart, I've changed my mind."
She spat on the coin, as she would have liked to spit on the Norman pig, but she wanted to keep her skin whole, so she settled for a volley of derisive laughter as she ran out of the tent and back toward the other men. Nicholas came in and said,
"By the face, that was fast. She must have satisfied you standing up!"
Guy laughed. "I told her to go. Upon closer inspection I discovered she wasn't my- type."
Nicholas shook his head. "Lillyth has you bewitched, she's spoiled all other women for you."
"Splendor of God, what bullshit you spout!"
Guy exercised control over his men, but was disgusted to find that St. Cloud did not. They killed and raped at will, and the unnecessary violence sickened Guy. The first day they rode out, they brought to heel the men of a large village. Guy caught sight of a young woman with her little son come running forward to beg mercy. He pictured Lillyth in her place being a supplicant for his son's life, but St. Cloud was before him. He hacked the boy almost in half and carried the woman off to rape her.
Guy mustered his men and quit the vicinity. He kept a distance between his men and St. Cloud's the rest of the day. That night he sought out William to tell him that he would ride no more with St. Cloud, but William was not available until later, and after he had time to cool and reconsider his position, Guy realized that William would not appreciate dissension in the ranks and might consider it petty squabbling. The next day he bade his knights not to mix indiscriminately with St. Cloud's men, but to follow his lead. However, in the late afternoon the two groups again came together, and Guy was outraged to see St. Cloud run down a female child of about nine or ten and rape her. Guy called Hugh Montrose, who was closest to him, and asked, "Is your bow horn-backed?"
"Of course, and I carry only candle arrows. They will reach five hundred paces," he assured Guy.
"Good. Lend it to me," he ordered.
He waited tensely until St. Cloud came out of the trees, and after taking very deliberate aim, he loosed an arrow which went straight to St. Cloud's heart.
"My God, you've killed him," said Andre at his shoulder.
"Vermin!" spat Guy.
"If any saw, you will be in serious trouble! Let's bury him before any find him," urged André.
"Hold. Let his own men find him. They are such dishonorable bastards, they will concoct some lie of an accident to keep blame from their door. Let us quit this place."
The army was on the move at last. They arrived at London and camped on the south bank of the River Thames. The English came out of the gates at Southwark and attacked the Normans, but they were soon driven back. William gave the order that all the houses on the south bank of the Thames were to be burned. Norman troops rode down the narrow streets, killing any in their path. They were followed by torchbearers who in a systematic manner fired the houses. Men threw down their weapons and cried for quarter. They received none. The wooden houses burned quickly, and the place soon became an inferno, with acrid black smoke burning the eyes of soldiers and citizens alike. Flaming shells of buildings crashed inward upon themselves. Great towers crumbled and churches blazed. A few children were seen with their clothes afire, and some women's hair caught flame, but most citizens of London had the good sense to flee before the holocaust. The men began looting and plundering what the fire did not destroy.
William had many important hostages from Dover and Canterbury. Because Guy de Montgomery had a fair knowledge of the Saxon tongue, he was relieved that he had been chosen to guard them, rather than sent out to kill and burn. William moved the army west of London and crossed the River Thames at Wallingford. Here he was met with messengers sent from his brother, Robert de Mortain, who was now in possession of Berkhamstead. William passed by Icknield Way to the gap in the Chiltern Hills at Tring, and thus on to Berkhamstead. He had given the decision makers in London a taste of his ruthlessness, now he would give them pause to think on it. After a hurried discussion among London's important men, they decided to capitulate. William received the crown of England for the first time in the grounds of Berkhamstead.
Space was at a minimum at the castle of Berkhamstead, but Robert was delighted to find room for his old friend Montgomery, although his men had to be camped on the grounds.
Guy found himself in exalted company. William's other brother, Odo, the bishop of Bayeux, was very much in evidence, and a more ungodly bishop one was never likely to meet. William's cousin, William Fitzosbern, was a great personal friend to the king, as well as being a relative, and was seen much in the "Conqueror's" company. Richard de Rules, William's chamberlain, and Eudo Dapifer, his steward, rubbed shoulders with Hugh de Grandmesnil, a baron who supplied a vast number of knights and soldiers for the Battle of Hastings.
In the vast dining hall at Berkhamstead, Guy de Montgomery sat down to sup with Robert de Mortain, and other important lords and barons. They were served sumptuou
s meals at which Guy's palate rebelled slightly. There were whole boars, their heads stuffed with spices and cloyed apples in their mouths. Porpoises dressed with frumenty lay in sickening poses on huge platters. Cranes and peacocks were resplendent on silver dishes, but when carved gave off such highly spiced flavors that only stomachs accustomed to such rich fare could digest them. Everything was surrounded by dyed jellies or candied rose leaves. The rich fare, mixed with the wines that flowed from Normandy, caused many a lord, suddenly discovering he had overindulged; to excuse himself.
The talk turned to the castle of Berkhamstead where Robert was in sole charge, and he decried the poorly built Saxon fortification. "These Saxons have no idea how to build a stronghold," he told the other men at table. Guy listened intently, as he was very interested in improving his own hall.
"All this place is, really, is a timber fort with an artificial motte around it," said Robert, waving his arm.
"I agree. The Saxons seem more inclined to be artistic than practical. Look at the beautiful tapestries that cover every wall and the intricate patterns on the silver plate, yet all these riches are housed so poorly, we have no trouble taking their castles and cities," answered Guy.
"Come upstairs and let me show you the plans I've drawn up for this place," Robert invited Guy, warming to his favorite subject of building. The two friends left the crowded dining hall. Robert laid out the plans on a long narrow table and pointed with his finger. "I'm going to build a stone wall at least sixty feet in diameter and about eight feet thick around a shell keep. There will be a rampart wall on top of this for lookouts. Steps up the earthworks will be protected at the top by a tower and a ditch filled with water at the base of the earthworks."
Guy studied the plans intently. "You will have an inner and an outer ward?" he queried.
Robert nodded. "Surrounded by flint rubble walls at least seven feet thick with bastions and gates, plus two ditches and bank between."
"Splendor of God," commented Guy, "you don't intend to give this place up easily."
"Do you blame me?" Robert winked as two serving wenches came in to repair the fire and put a bed-warmer between the sheets.
"That's not the kind of bed-warmer I need," he teased the girls, who giggled and seemed inclined to linger over their duties.
"Are you forgetting that you are a married man?" laughed Guy.
"Bones of Christ, with William about I'm not likely to. Do you know, I don't believe he has ever once been unfaithful to Matilda. You don't suppose he's afraid of her, do you?" Robert asked Guy.
Guy laughed out loud at such a suggestion, that William could be afraid of anything. "More likely, William being bastard, he is determined never to father one. Matilda is only four and a half feet tall, how could he be afraid? Although I know some women can be the very devil," he added grimly.
Robert knew he referred to his own wife back in Normandy, and he cleared his throat and said, "Let me give you a little advice. Every castle both in Normandy and England is full of wenches who will do a man's bidding, and wives expect it and shrug it off, but let a man take a mistress from the nobility or one that is highborn, and the wife will make such a damned jealous scandal, life isn't worth living."
In that moment a beautiful, clear picture of Lillyth flashed before Guy. He had to clench his fists and dig his nails into his palms to still the desire that flamed through him.
Robert glanced at the two girls and spoke in a low voice to Guy. "I will share whatever I have with you, friend."
"Done," grinned Guy, "but be warned now, I intend to steal some of your carpenters and masons when I leave. I want to build new fortifications at Godstone. In fact, I was thinking of moving the great hall up one floor, instead of using the ground floor, for a greater sense of security."
"Enough, Montgomery, or by the face I shall begin to suspect your manhood," he laughed.
Guy kept his men busy by organizing half of them to hunt and half to help with the new building fortifications that were already under way. Each day they would switch about. This way there was less likelihood of them becoming bored, or coveting the next man's job. Guy felt the need to contribute in this way to their keep. Also, leaders who left their men idle soon found they had an unruly bunch of drunken, whoring gamblers on their hands. However, none of this showed up in William's presence. He was a stark man and in the hall or at board he would tolerate no disorder. He was also a man who believed in setting an example for his men. He never drank to excess, he was always in the front ranks on the battlefield, he was a good, faithful husband and a strict father to his growing brood of sons and daughters.
Guy noticed that when William left Berkhamstead and went to London for two days, the hall took on a bacchanalian air in the evenings, with drinking, cursing, gambling, lewd entertainment and womanizing.
"By the face, Robert, you allow things William would never countenance."
"Let them enjoy themselves while they may; William returns tomorrow. He has gone to make arrangements for the coronation and Odo has gone with him. I think Odo will remain in London, but I'll keep possession here, thank you. You can keep London."
"When is the coronation to be?" asked Guy, feeling a longing for it all to be over and done so he could return home.
"Well, we all thought New Year's Day would be a good choice. You know, the symbolism of a new year, a new reign, that sort of thing. We reckoned without William! He insists he conquered England in 1066 and he will be crowned in 1066. It will look better in the history books," winked Robert, "so he has decided it is to be Christmas Day!" Guy raised his eyebrows, but held his tongue from a sarcastic jest that could be repeated.
At night, Guy lay awake long hours going over and over his last night with Lillyth and the shame he had brought upon her, when he only wanted to give her love and happiness. Splendor of God, how he wished he could marry her. A thought stirred, then took shape. Why couldn't he wed with her? Why not have the priest say the words over them? It wouldn't be legal, but if Lillyth truly believed they were wed, she would hold her proud head high and not be ashamed before the others. It was hard enough for her now, but if she bore him a bastard, it would be intolerable for her. His mind followed that path for a moment. A son! It was what he had longed for but never achieved. He was past thirty; he had better make haste. Sons! He wanted his seed to spring from his loins into Lillyth's body and give him sons. He would legitimize any child she bore him. He dismissed the idea of marriage as an empty dream, but it came again and again, and he found himself practicing the phrases he would use to his brothers and Rolf, to ensure their lips would be sealed over the matter of his previous marriage. He thought of it in those terms because, by all the saints, they would be married in God's eyes. He already thought of Lillyth as his wife, and this surely was the only way to keep her for himself forever. He wanted to ask her to marry him, to see her eyes light up with the love she felt for him. When he had settled it all in his mind, he relaxed and fell asleep.
When the cold, clear light of morning arrived, he dismissed his thoughts as impossible, but again at night as he lay abed, they came creeping back, intruding up through layers of subconscious thought to the surface of consciousness, and he knew that he would never be whole until the other half of his soul, Lillyth, was joined with him, mated for life.
Guy was impatient to be home again, even though he had only been away for the month of November. When he thought of Godstone he was filled with unease that it wasn't well guarded and chafed at the bit when he thought of all the month of December that had to be gotten through before he could return. He began to keep his ears and eyes open for an excuse to return home. He could take his men back up to London in time for the coronation.
Chapter 14
As December dawned, Lillyth longed for Guy's return. The people at Godstone prepared for the Yule season as they had done in the past. All the girls were busy making Christmas gifts and Lady Alison asked Rolf to find them a big yule log to bring into the hall to be decorated. A
merry party of ladies went into the woods and, with the men's help, cut garlands of holly from the great oak trees and also mistletoe, and they spent hours trimming the walls and tables and even the sleeping chambers.
May said to her husband Edgar, "I am glad the Lord Aedward was sent over to Oxstead."
He said, "You mean you are glad to have him away from Edwina?"
May nodded. "She has formed an impossible attachment for him. I have tried to tell her that nothing can come of it."
"She will soon forget him," said Edgar. "She will take up with Alfred's grandson or young Lucan."
May shook her head. "She will not look at another man. She asked me not to make any arrangements for her, at least until Aedward returns to Godstone."
He said, "She has set her sights too high, I am afraid. He no longer owns land, but he is still of noble blood. I am afraid if she persists she will receive a broken heart for her foolishness."
May sighed. "Why are all maids foolish when they are in love?"
"Men too," he chuckled as he slipped his arms about her.
"Hurry then if that is what's on your mind. The children, will be in for supper any minute."
Edwina had walked about in a melancholy state since Aedward left for Oxstead. She had received the wax images from Morag and faithfully bound them together with a piece of red wool, but her wishes looked as if they would never be fulfilled. That night she took the little dolls into bed with her and prayed with all her heart that Aedward would return soon. The next day she took them out to the bees and whispered her longings to them as Morag had advised her to do. It was too bad that Samain had slipped by without her noticing, on November first— the pagan festival when the barriers were down between mortal and immortal, between the visible and the invisible.