"Get out!" he ordered Edyth. She looked inquiringly at Lillyth, who nodded to her imperceptibly.
The moment the chamber door closed, he threw the heavy bar across. He pulled Lillyth roughly to him, and as he put his mouth upon hers, he thrust his tongue in so deeply she almost gagged and pulled away with a shudder. Wulfric chuckled. "So you don't like my kisses, eh? I will find better sport for your mouth, never fear."
Lillyth did not understand his meaning, but she looked at him contemptuously and rubbed her wrist, which was covered with blue bruise marks. "Wulfric, you hurt me. That is not the way to win a new bride's love," she said.
"I don't want you to love me, I want you to obey me," he shouted.
"When I say strip, you strip. When I say kneel, you kneel!"
The contempt she felt was quickly replaced with a blazing anger. Although a woman was expected to obey her husband without question, Lillyth had been treated with deference all her life.
"How dare you, sir, speak to me thus? Your drunkenness does not excuse you!" she hissed. "l think they have wed me to a madman!"
He grabbed her hair, wrapped it around his fist and gave it such a vicious jerk that it brought her to her knees.
"You have many lessons to learn, Lillyth. Obedience is only the first lesson. You she-bitch, I will master you and you will be glad to do my bidding!"
He was swaying on his feet because of the drink, but it didn't diminish the strength of his cruel hands. He took hold of the neck of her beautiful gown, so lovingly embroidered with seed pearls, and tore it from top to bottom. The pieces fell to the floor, and she was helplessly naked before him. Her anger rapidly dissolved into blind fear, and her limbs began to tremble.
"Help me off with my clothes," he ordered, and he took her breast and squeezed it cruelly. Lillyth screamed and reluctantly helped him to remove the last of his clothing.
"If you scream again, I will make you take this into your mouth." There was no mistaking his meaning this time, as he held his hard member close to her face.
Loathing mingled with mute terror. Her mind formed plans of escape, and she could see herself running naked into the crowded hall. She eluded his fumbling grasp and lunged toward the bar on the door. He tripped going after her but managed in spite of his drunkenness to lay hands on her again— hands that bit into her flesh, not caring what damage they did.
Lillyth was sobbing in her throat as he threw her facedown onto the bed. He separated her buttocks and mounted her from behind as he had mounted his young squire for years.
Lillyth screamed with pain and with one tremendous surge of energy drove her elbows upwards into his gut. He gave a large groan, followed by a thunderous belch, and as he rolled off her he vomited all over the bed and quietly passed out.
She didn't know how long she lay there. When she came to her senses, her pain was almost unbearable and she was sticky with blood. Dimly she became aware of a terrible clamor. Men were shouting, women screaming, and a great din of panic and pandemonium arose. Someone was hammering on the door, so she arose from the bed and wrapped herself in a velvet robe, then went to the door and lifted the heavy bar to find her mother.
"I am sorry to disturb you, my dear, but your father needs Wulfric immediately."
Lillyth waved her arm toward the naked man lying in blood and vomit. "My father is welcome to him. The next time I lay eyes on my husband, I shall kill him," said Lillyth quietly.
"My God, what has happened here? The Normans have landed at Pevensey. A great horde of invaders, seven or eight hundred ships, and our men all left their posts. Harold will go mad when he learns."
Lillyth swept past her mother as if she didn't hear. She heard all right, it was just that she simply didn't care. She walked purposefully down the stairway, ignoring the people who would speak to her, and made straight for the armory. It was filled with drunken men who had suddenly been sobered and were frantically sorting out chain mail and weapons. She searched until she found a sharp dagger in its jeweled sheath, and then she went back the way she had come. She climbed to her own chamber, slammed the door, pulled down the bar, and dragged her large coffer, packed with her belongings, in front of the heavy wooden door. She lay down on her own bed, and the tears pricked her eyelids and slid softly down her cheeks.
Before dawn arrived on the first day of October the lord of Oxstead had been revived and the knights held a meeting. Something had to be done immediately, but the first suggestion of returning to the coast to meet the invaders seemed too foolhardy and was rejected. A vast army was needed to stem the flow of Normans. They discussed riding north by the shortest route and meeting the army on its rapid descent south, but finally the majority agreed to ride out into Suffolk to recruit all the soldiers they could and march to London, where King Harold was certain to pass through on his way to confront William of Normandy.
Wagons were loaded with provender and sent to Sevenoaks where the knights could pick them up on the march south. The armory walls were stripped of weapons as the knights scrambled to equip themselves with arms and chain mail. Everything was done with such haste that there was not time for any formal good-byes. Lillyth stayed barricaded in her chamber for twenty-four hours, and when she at last withdrew her bolt and ventured forth to break her fast, the men had long been gone.
Chapter 4
An anxious week of waiting for some kind of news was endured at Godstone, and then they got some good news and some bad. Aedward came riding in, bursting to tell all he knew of the momentous events taking place around them.
"I've been sent for horses, my lady," he addressed Lady Alison. "I've taken all Oxstead can provide us with and Lord Athelstan said you would be able to send another six or eight mounts. King Harold is unbelievable! There was a huge battle at Stamford Bridge in Yorkshire on the twenty-fifth of September, and Harold wiped out the Norwegians that invaded up the Humber. As soon as a rider gave him the news of the Norman invasion, he started south immediately. He's already in London and it's only the eighth day of October. An impossible feat, you would think! He's traveled so swiftly, the main body of the army has been left behind. That is why they are in need of fresh mounts. The horses have been pushed too hard. As soon as the foot soldiers arrive, perhaps tomorrow, we go straight to the coast to teach William a lesson." He was flushed with pride for Harold's energy and invincibility.
Lady Alison said, "We have had many rumors this past week of Norman doings, and if only half of it is true, God help us! William brought at least eight hundred ships, not counting boats and skiffs carrying arms and harness. He has hundreds of knights on armored war-horses. Hundreds of archers, all shaven and shorn and clad in short garments. He even brought his own carpenters to build forts and his own cooks and provender to feed his army of men and horses. But the worst part is they have burned every hamlet and town along the coast that they have spotted. Pillage, murder, rape, mutilations and burnings, and it is too close for comfort, Aedward."
He glanced hastily toward Lillyth and wished her mother would not use these frightening words in her presence.
"Have no fear, Lillyth. No doubt these things are greatly exaggerated, and our army should arrive at the coast in less than a week's time. We will set them fleeing across the Channel, whence they came. You will have no cause to use that dagger you are wearing, my dearest sister."
"You are right, Aedward, guessing at my cowardice, but it is one Saxon I fear more than the whole bloody Norman army!"
Lady Alison spoke up quickly. "Take whatever horses you think necessary, just leave Lillyth's Zephyr and one of the mares for me if you think you can spare them to us, and Godspeed, Aedward. May you bring us good tidings next time we meet. I've told your mother to come and stay with us until all this is over. She was quite ill after we got news of the Norman landing. We will do our best for her until you return."
Lillyth kissed him and smiled sadly as he prepared to take the horses to Sevenoaks to await the army.
"Aedward, you have never fought in
a battle. Do not let your bravery be your undoing, I beg you. Good-bye, and go with God." She didn't allow the tears to show until he had departed.
"Lillyth, go to the stillroom and get some bayberry oil," said Lady Alison. "It will take away those bruises. If your arms are a sample of what the rest of your body looks like, something must be done immediately. I'm sorry I didn't think of it earlier, my dearest." She looked at her daughter sadly. "I'm sorry I didn't think of a lot of things earlier."
When Lady Hilda arrived at Godstone with her serving woman Norah, Lady Alison was appalled at her appearance. She took Norah aside quietly and said, "She looks most unwell. Do you think you could persuade her to go straight to bed? She will need her strength in the days to come. We all will, for that matter."
"I think she will be glad of a bed, Lady Alison. She was ill all the way over," replied Norah.
In a bracing voice Alison said, "Come, Hilda, your chamber is prepared, and I've just had a warm fire lighted for you. I want you to rest. I will stay with you a while and we can have a talk. You can tell me what is worrying you so badly."
"It's war, Alison! It took my husband from me while I was but a girl and now, it will take my sons. It is a voracious monster that cannot be satisfied. I will never see my sons alive again!" she cried.
"What nonsense!" laughed Alison, showing a confidence she did not feel. "Invaders have been trying to take your beloved England for hundreds of years and they haven't succeeded yet. Our Saxon army is incomparable, invincible! They turned back the Norwegians, vanquished them completely, and now they go to turn back the Normans. Enough of men, they are well able to take care of themselves." She changed the subject. "Tell me about you. Have you been poorly of late, Hilda?"
They helped her into the bed. Norah pulled the bedcovers over the older woman and brought her a cup of mead.
"Well, I've had a strange dream," she said wearily. "It's a recurring dream that I have a splinter in my breast. It was so real that I began to believe it. I've examined myself carefully, and though I have found no evidence of a splinter, I can feel a lump, I'm afraid."
A cold feeling gripped Lady Alison, but she said quickly, "If you would let me take a look, Hilda, I am sure it's one of those things called a slippery mouse. We all get them from time to time. Just a little piece of gristle that moves about, and they disappear on their own quite mysteriously."
When Alison's fingers made contact with the tumor, her worst fears were realized, but she said lightly, "Yes, just as I suspected, a slippery mouse!"
"That is a great relief, Alison," the older woman said, closing her eyes.
"Norah, come to my stillroom and I will give you a soothing syrup that will let Hilda sleep.
On the way to the stillroom Lady Alison warned Norah, "I'm afraid what Lady Hilda has is most unpleasant. She is feeling pain, but trying to deny it. Very soon that will be impossible. Fortunately, I grow the white poppy in my garden. When the flower falls off as they do at this season, it leaves a seed vessel as large as an orange. These are filled with a bitter milk, but mixed into a syrup with honey and water it takes away the pain like magic and brings blessed sleep. I must warn you that half an ounce is enough for a grown person. Never give her a larger dose, no matter how she begs."
'Will it cure her?" asked Norah hopefully.
"I'm afraid not."
"I understand," said Norah with sad resignation.
The Norman invaders, totaling between five and seven thousand, had landed on the coast of England. William, duke of Normandy, had had the forethought to bring horses so that his army could be mounted. William was inspecting the temporary buildings his carpenters had erected for their shelter when two of his scouts rode up at breakneck speed.
"My lord, we have spotted the English army. At first the numbers seemed small, but they are growing rapidly."
William stood a tall five feet ten inches. "Where are they?" he demanded eagerly. So convinced was he of his sovereign rights that no shadow of a doubt of his success crossed his mind.
"About seven miles hence, my lord, on the northern slopes beyond the town of Hastings."
"Good work! It is a sign of bad luck for the English that we spotted them on Friday the thirteenth," he said shrewdly. He knew how superstitious the men were, looking for signs and omens everywhere. "Summon all knights and lieutenants to my tent," he ordered, "there isn't a moment to be lost!"
When William entered the tent he found his two older half-brothers in deep conversation. Robert, Count of Mortain, was the handsomest one of the family, while Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, had the bearlike girth of a warrior, which belied his religious title.
"The enemy has been sighted. We do battle tomorrow!" announced William shortly.
"Is there a need for such haste? Will the men be ready?" asked Robert. "Better to be sure than sorry."
"If they are not ready now, they never will be," said William firmly. "Our men are rested. Harold's men have just fought a battle with the Norwegians. They have had to travel half the length of the country to meet us. I don't think I need spell out in what condition his fighting men will be."
Odo cut in, "Are you so sure of our own men? The only warfare they have known is besieging castles. They have never fought in open battle."
William said, "The choice is a simple one, brother— fight and survive, or fight and die!"
When his captains were assembled, he began, "The English have arrived." The babble of voices ceased the moment William spoke. "Tomorrow at dawn we go forth to meet them. We are smaller in number but we have a higher proportion of select men. We are fresh, we are eager for conquest" He paused dramatically to let this sink in, then announced, "I am open to suggestions for battle plans."
A great chorus of voices arose. Each Norman was eager to stand out in the eyes of his leader. William was a man who could make sound choices swiftly. In a little over an hour it was decided to divide the men into three divisions. William, duke of Normandy, along with his brothers Robert and Odo, would fight in the central one among the highest-ranking Normans. The division to the right would contain all the lesser-ranking Normans, and the one to the left would be made up of men from Brittany.
"My spies tell me the Saxons employ few archers for warfare. When they see what damage my multitude of archers can inflict, they will rue the day," laughed William shortly. He was a hard man, hated and feared by many, but as a leader he was respected by all.
Saturday, October fourteenth dawned early, but before first light the Norman army was assembled, ready and awaiting the address they knew would come from William. As he rode front and center on his great destrier, he felt nervous excitement in the pit of his stomach. He knew he must convey the excitement without revealing the nervousness. He must somehow infuse his strength into them. His words must somehow convey that they had no alternative! He removed his helmet with a flourish and paused dramatically while the cheering rose up and died away.
"For God's sake, spare not," he shouted. "Strike hard at the beginning!"
He lifted his voice again. "Do not stop to take spoil. All booty will be taken in common— there will be plenty for all."
His throat felt hoarse now.
"There will be no safety in asking quarter or taking flight. The English will never spare a Norman!"
He took a great gulp of air.
"Show no weakness, for they will have no pity on you."
He shouted contemptuously. "If you fly to the sea, the English will overtake you and slay you in your shame!"
He stopped, allowing a full minute to elapse before he resumed.
"Fight and you will conquer!"
His voice rose. "I have no doubt of the victory!" His voice rose again. "We are come for glory!" As the sun came up, the autumn morning was revealed in all its brilliance. The woods were a blaze of orange and russet and red— blood red. The Norman army was no less colorful. They advanced with their painted shields slung around their necks. Every emblem and device was a different, gaudy work of ar
t. William's minstrel had chosen to ride ahead of the army. He swung his sword like a baton and he began to sing the Song of Roland. Each man joined in until the entire horde rode forward to the accompaniment of song.
The Saxon army; hardly able to believe their ears, began to shout taunts and curses, and some blew horns to show their contempt. The two armies closed in battle, each sure of victory. They were so well matched, each soon realized it would be a long and bloody fight.
By noon the Normans were not winning the day as they had thought they would. The Englishmen returned blow for blow with their axes, fighting with a stubbornness that was alarming.
In the early afternoon, Harold's men, tasting victory, took it upon themselves to launch an unauthorized attack. They could not be held in check. The moment they broke rank, William's lieutenants wheeled their chargers and began to annihilate the Saxons. This allowed William the time he needed to regroup. He bade his archers aim their arrows high to fall upon the enemy like a deadly shower of rain.
The Saxons raised their shields to protect themselves from this heavenly onslaught and William's knights and foot soldiers hacked their way through. By nightfall, the sheer weight of the horses and the blows of the knights won the battle. Total exhaustion forced them to make camp alongside the battlefield, knee-deep in death.
Inside his tent, William grinned at Robert de Mortain through his exhaustion. "In hundreds of years no other invader of this isle has achieved victory!"
Robert drank his health, then said, "Before I seek my couch I must see how many of my knights were lost."
William gazed at him with hard, unblinking eyes. "Get your sleep, brother. Today we won the Battle of Hastings, tomorrow we must conquer the country!"