Fire and Ice

Chapter 22



“Ah, my love, I thought you were never coming,” Luke breathed deeply and held her hand to his lips. They had contrived various meetings since Giselle’s illness and this was their latest.

“You must try to contain your impatience, my dear. If anyone found us we would be horsewhipped and you would lose your position at the monastery.”

“I care not for those things any longer, Giselle. You know that my heart is yours and we must find a way to leave here so that we can be together.”

Her plan had worked; she now had an ally who would risk his own future to be with her. She smiled temptingly at him and he dared a chaste kiss on her cheek. “You must be careful though, Luke. We must make plans to leave once the good weather is settled. Have you thought of a plan yet?”

“I have thought of nothing else these past weeks. I thought we might leave during the Easter parades. We will be going out among the townspeople so it should be easy to slip away.”

“But where will we go, my love? And I will need clothes. I cannot bear to be in these itchy rags for much longer.”

“You said your father is with the King. We must find out where they are and I will deliver you to his care and throw myself on his mercy.”

“Yes, of course, my father will help us. We will do as we planned and return to Normandy and our lands there.”

“Will you promise to be my wife, Giselle? I want to make you mine forever.”

Giselle’s face was still smiling into his eyes but her brain was feverishly trying to think of an excuse. “I will marry you, my darling one, when my brother returns. I could not possibly think of marrying until I have his consent as well as my father’s.”

“Then let us hope he returns soon.”

Luke pulled her close and kissed her passionately, which she returned with well-practised ease. She could feel his heart thumping beneath his habit and felt a surge of triumph at her success in capturing this young man. In a way she hoped Richard would not kill him when he came back, as she had never before had such a handsome lover.



***



At that moment Sir Richard was sitting forlornly in a duck pond, cursing his bad luck. That stupid horse was useless. Ragn had trained him to respond only to his voice and when the steed had had enough exercise, he had thrown the unsuspecting knight and trotted off back to his warm stable. Sir Richard was now soaking wet and had no money on him to buy a night’s shelter anywhere or to exchange his clothing. The only thing he could do in the daylight he had left was to remove his clothing and leave it on a bush to dry. He squelched off into some nearby woodland and prepared to take off his clothes, but the sound of laughter reached his ears and he turned around to catch two young girls pointing at him in a fit of giggles. He made a move towards them and they ran away squealing with laughter. His temper was now reaching boiling point and he ran after the girls to see where they lived. He would demand fresh clothes from their parents and threaten them with their lives unless they helped him.

The woods ended in a clearing and an old boundary ditch. The girls were disappearing around the corner of a single-storied long house and chickens pecked away at the new shoots peeking through the earth. It was an idyllic scene and de Gant was brought to a swift halt, his fury evaporating in an instant. His attention was caught by a young girl who looked about seventeen as she wandered in the garden reading from a small book. Forgetting his appearance was likely to startle he stepped forward and made his way into the open. He was closing in on the young woman when she suddenly noticed him and gasped, obviously shocked by his unkempt and wet attire.

“Please, don’t run away,” de Gant begged, “I’ve fallen from my horse and he has run away. My name is Sir Richard de Gant and I would appreciate your assistance.”

“You are Norman?” the girl asked.

“Yes, but I mean you no harm. Please could you take me to your father or mother?”

The girl hesitated and looked around to see if anyone was watching. “Come this way,” was all she said and moved away in the direction the younger girls had taken.

Instead of taking him into the house, the girl led him to an outbuilding which was warm from the earlier sun and the floor was covered in sweet-smelling hay.

“Please sit down here and wait for me. I will bring you a change of clothing and something to eat. I dare not take you into the house - my family are Norse settlers and would not appreciate you being here.”

“What’s your name?” de Gant asked, thinking that as soon as he could he would be back to teach these people a lesson.

“My name is not important. You just need to stay here while I go and bring the things you need.”

“Wait!” he began as she opened the door, but she put her fingers to her lips and went out quickly.

Time passed slowly and de Gant made himself comfortable on a bed of straw and hay which he gathered into a heap. He had no idea if he should even trust this girl. She might even now be telling her mother and father that she had captured a stupid Norman and held him in the outbuilding. He was just about to get up and peep through the wooden slats of the door when he heard soft footsteps and then the door opened revealing the girl with a bundle of clothes and a bag with bread and fruit.

She approached him more timidly than she had earlier, perhaps realising that he could overpower her at any moment. De Gant had no energy left to ravish her even if he wanted to, but she did remind him of Juliana in her poise, although her hair was straight and golden rather than curly and red.

“I will leave you to change and eat and I will bring you some water later. We have a clean spring which provides us with good, clear water.”

“Thank you, my dear,” de Gant at that moment was grateful. “Won’t you please tell me your name so that I can thank you properly?”

“My name is Freya, but if I’m asked I will not admit to having met you and will say that you stole the clothes and food. Please be on your way as soon as possible after you are refreshed.”

“Thank you, Freya. I am extremely grateful for your kindness to a stranger and I will not betray you to anyone.”

Freya returned to her parent’s house and prayed that the Norman knight would leave soon as she was deeply attracted to him which spelled danger for them both.