As she began to drink, she became more and more annoyed as the alcohol entered her blood and fuelled her temper. She sat brooding quietly, until a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

  "Wouldst thou pass the wine, my lady?"

  She blinked as her eyes focused on one of the causes of her troubles, Renaud de Clairvoy. She pulled the wine jug nearer to her and snarled. "Fetch thy own wine. I am not thy serf, thou Norman swine!"

  "Cynwise, desist!" exclaimed Elfreda, visibly mortified that her sister would speak thus to her new brother-in-law.

  Renaud tapped his fingers on the table, clearly vexed. "I never said thou art a serf. I merely asked thee, politely, to pass me the wine."

  "Nay!"

  * * *

  Renaud quickly realised this was yet another battle of wills. If he let this pass, then she would continue in her quest to belittle him. Nay, he wouldst get her to comply by foul means or fair!

  "I will ask thee one more time, and woe betide thee if thou dost not comply!" He leaned forward, his hand outstretched. "Pass me the wine."

  He studied her, wondering how such a pretty exterior could hide such a precocious, willful wench beneath.

  Cynwise leaned forward and said, "Nay!"

  With a lightning move, Renaud pulled her from her seat and away from the high table. She squealed with fright and tried to fight him off.

  Elfreda went to rise as Renaud flipped a protesting Cynwise over his shoulder and strode out of the hall, but Gerard stayed her with his hand. "Nay, wife. Cynwise hath behaved obnoxiously and will be treated accordingly."

  "What will he do?" she asked apprehensively.

  "Spank her, and before thee raises protest, I think thee will agree she is in dire need of chastisement."

  Elfreda nibbled on her bottom lip. 'Twas true, Cynwise had behaved abominably. She only had herself to blame.

  Renaud took the kicking and screaming Cynwise out into the inner courtyard where they wouldn't be disturbed. Quickly, he seated himself on a stone seat and pulled her struggling form over his lap.

  "Thou art a stubborn, willful wench, and I will not be spoken to in such a manner!"

  "Desist, Norman! Thou wouldst dare to spank me?" she exclaimed angrily, her voice ending on a high note as he threw up her skirts and revealed her bare bottom to his gaze.

  "Aye, Saxon wench, and with much pleasure! Mayhap, 'twill still thy venomous tongue."

  Before Cynwise could retort, his large hand began smacking her bottom. Instead of words, Renaud only heard shrieks—shrieks of outrage, mingled with pain.

  Never before had a woman riled him so much. How dare she use his birthright as an insult!

  Four hard smacks followed, the sound of his hand upon her tender flesh echoing throughout the courtyard.

  He rained down more harsh slaps upon her upturned backside, relishing her cries as each smack made contact.

  "Gerard told me thy parents are both deceased. In their absence, thee hath become most willful." Smack! Smack! "I shall see to it that thy tongue remains civil whilst I am under thy roof."

  "Civil! What wouldst thee know of civility? Aow! Plundering another country to take what doth not belong to thee! Oh! Desist, that doth hurt! Prithee, I beg thee, no more!"

  Three more smacks!

  Despite her pleading, Renaud continued to mete out punishment until her buttocks were a deep, fiery colour. Only then was he satisfied that she had learned her lesson.

  He pulled her upright, and she hopped from one foot to the other in front of him, rubbing her bottom to alleviate the pain. He noted with satisfaction that she scrunched up her face and was on the verge of tears. "If thee ever call me a Norman swine again, remember this punishment. I will not stand for such insubordination."

  * * *

  Cynwise opened her eyes briefly and fixed him with a petulant stare.

  "And take that look from thy face!" he demanded.

  Quickly, she averted her eyes, knowing that if she continued, she could very well end up with an even sorer bottom than she now had. The man was a beast.

  "Thee will go back into the hall, thee willst pour me a wine, and thee shallt hath a smile upon thy face."

  He smacked her hands away from her bottom and propelled her forward with a small push. "Thou shallt not rub away the pain. 'Twill be a reminder."

  Sullenly, Cynwise re-entered the great hall and did as he bid. He raised an eyebrow when she didn't smile as she handed him the goblet, so she gave him the briefest of tight-lipped smiles before walking back to her own seat. Her seat was thankfully padded, but even so, her bottom hurt as she sat down. She shifted uncomfortably and, there and then, vowed vengeance upon the Norman knight who had dared to spank her!

  A few days later...

  "Cynwise! Cynwise! The king hath come!" Elfreda rushed into Cynwise's bedchamber.

  Cynwise looked up from braiding her hair. "The king? Here?"

  "Aye!"

  Quickly, Cynwise placed her wimple over her head and stood up. "How shall we greet him?"

  "I know not, but we shall go together. He is already in the great hall with Gerard and Renaud."

  Together, they entered the great hall and, with much trepidation, approached the king who had conquered their lands. He was fairly tall, although not as tall as the de Clairvoy brothers were, but he was strongly built. Cynwise guessed him to be in his early forties.

  He eyed the two women with unabashed appreciation as Gerard introduced them. "Sire, my wife, Lady Elfreda de Clairvoy, and her younger sister, Cynwise Golderon."

  The ladies curtseyed and stared at the king with big eyes. He laughed. "Thee both resemble startled deer. I do not bite!" He suddenly frowned. "Doth thee understand me? I cannot master this Anglo-Saxon language and only speak my native French."

  Elfreda smiled. "We understand, sire. Gerard hath this past year instructed me in thy language. Likewise, I hath taught my sister."

  "I congratulate thee on thy achievement. Would it that I could learn thy language so easily. Mayhap I am too old in the tooth!"

  "Nay, sire," Renaud interjected. "There is no need to learn the language. These lands belong to the Normans now, and Norman French will be the spoken word."

  Cynwise immediately bristled and went to offer a sharp retort but Elfreda squeezed her hand, signalling silence. She had to suffice with shooting a dark look at Renaud as he glanced triumphantly in her direction. She had avoided him as best she could since he had spanked her, but on the few occasions they had met, he never failed to rile her.

  "Come and be seated by the fire, sire. I shall order some refreshments." Elfreda grabbed Cynwise by the arm and led her away towards the kitchens.

  "Cynwise, prithee, I beg thee to keep a civil tongue in thy head. This is the king, not some lowly peasant," pleaded Elfreda.

  "Tell that to Renaud. He aims to flaunt his Norman rule over me yet again."

  Elfreda sighed loudly. "I know he doth but cannot thee ignore him?"

  Cynwise closed her eyes briefly before opening them angrily. "'Tis hard, sister. Wherefore doth thou think I hath been resting in my chamber so oft? 'Tis to avoid that arrogant fool."

  "Hush, someone will overhear thee."

  "I care not!"

  "Dost thou think the king will allow thee to show thy disapproval of his Norman birth?"

  Cynwise shook her head and sighed, knowing she spoke wisely.

  Elfreda continued, "Then hold thy tongue, I beg of thee." She turned to the kitchen staff and ordered them to fill several jugs with wine and ale, lay out a platter of their best meats, and fill a basket with seasonal fruit.

  Whilst Cynwise watched Elfreda organise the refreshments, her thoughts turned to Renaud. For some reason, when she had lain in bed last night and tried to dream of Algar, she had found herself picturing Renaud's face. He had even invaded her dreams, spanking her lustily as she cried out for him to stop but, strangely, wanting him to continue. She had awoken to find her heart beating rapidly within her breast and her breathing heavy.

  She pulled a face. It should be Algar she dreamed of, not Renaud!

  "Stop thy daydreaming, Cynwise, and carry these for me." Elfreda handed her a flagon of wine. The serfs followed with the well-presented platters of food, and they re-entered the great hall.

  "How long doth the king intend to stay?" Cynwise whispered to her sister.

  "Gerard told me nigh on a week," Elfreda responded. "'Twill be a testing time for us all, methinks."

  "Aye." Her gaze settled on Renaud as he laughed with Gerard and King William. The easy sound set her heart fluttering. Annoyed at her reaction to him, she set the wine down and turned to go, but his hand stilled her.

  "Cynwise, wherefore doth thou goest? Stay a while. The king hath a question for thee and Elfreda."

  She looked at King William. He patted the seat next to him. "Aye. Come sit with me, ladies."

  They both took a seat on either side and waited for him to speak. "Hath thee knowledge of a man called Wulfwynn the Bold?"

  They both shook their heads. "Nay, sire. Who is he?" asked Elfreda.

  "'My spies tell me that he is a Saxon rebel in the process of leading a revolt against the Normans. He was last seen in this vicinity. 'Tis why I hath come."

  "Thinketh thee, he wouldst make an attempt to gain control of Ilchester?" asked Gerard.

  "I know not, Gerard. He could make an attempt on any one of our fortresses. Be aware and make ready thy men so that he will rue the day, should he try."

  "Aye, sire. My men-at-arms art well trained. They will not fail me."

  "As I thought. Even as we speak, I hath several scouts around the county, hunting him down. We shall hopefully find him afore he launches an attack."

  Cynwise smiled slyly to herself as the king looked away. So, these Normans, who thought they could just march into England and take what they wanted, now found they were still under attack five years later. The Saxons were not such an easy enemy to conquer, after all.

  She suddenly felt a pair of eyes boring into hers and looked up to find Renaud staring at her disapprovingly as he noted her smile. She raised her chin defiantly and helped herself to an apple. Mayhap, Wulfwynn the Bold would overthrow the Norman rule at Ilchester, including the arrogant Renaud de Clairvoy. She could only hope so.

  * * *

  A few days later, Cynwise lay on the hill outside the castle grounds and watched Renaud practice his sword fighting with Gerard. They were a handsome pair and, reluctantly, she realised her sister had made a good marriage. The castle was strong and well furnished. Elfreda would be happy here with Gerard; he appeared to treat her well and saw to her every comfort.

  But what of her own future? To whom would she marry? Her thoughts turned to Algar. She had not seen him for over a week and yet, peculiarly, she could not picture his face properly.

  She dismissed him and all thoughts of marriage from her mind. She was young and, at the moment, content to have fun annoying the Norman lord. 'Twas amusing to see his face turn dark as thunder.

  She lay on her back and stared up at the clear blue summer sky, a broad smile on her face. Aye, life was good. Marriage could wait.

  Chapter Two

  A Saxon Wife

  Ilchester Castle, Somerset, England 1071

  Sir Renaud de Clairvoy frowned as his destrier, Malo, kicked out his back leg yet again. Something was bothering the beast. Renaud leaned forward and patted his neck reassuringly, causing him to quieten a little.

  "Malo seems restless today, my lord," his squire remarked.

  "Aye, Philbert. Did he eat well this morning?"

  "Aye, my lord. He was well rested."

  Suddenly, Malo kicked out again and, this time, nearly unseated Renaud.

  "Whoa, whoa!" He quickly jumped down, and Malo seemed to quieten immediately. "What ails thee?" He ran his hand over the destrier's large frame, feeling for any signs of irritation or sores. Philbert jumped down and checked the other side.

  "I can see naught here, my lord."

  "Check the saddle. Mayhap, there is something rubbing underneath?"

  Philbert unbuckled the cinch and pulled the heavy load off Malo's back. As he slipped it off, a small pebble fell to the ground. He picked it up and handed it to Renaud.

  Renaud frowned and looked at it in the palm of his hand. "A pebble? Was it beneath the saddle?"

  "Aye, my lord."

  "How didst it get there?"

  "I know not, my lord. In truth, 'twas not there when I placed the saddle on his back."

  Puzzled, Renaud inspected Malo's back to see if the pebble had done any damage. Small though it might be, it could still have chafed his skin. Luckily, Malo was fine. So he ordered Philbert to replace the saddle, and he remounted.

  "'Tis most odd, Philbert. We shall go back; methinks Malo hath had enough riding this day."

  On their return, Renaud ordered some wine to be taken to his chamber. His page, Baldewyn, arrived shortly after with a flagon of wine and a small platter of cheese and fruit. After taking off Renaud's leather boots, Baldewyn poured him a goblet of the beverage and stood aside, awaiting further orders.

  Renaud picked up his drink and made himself comfortable on the bed. "Take my hauberk down to the blacksmith – some of the links need replacing." He took a swig before continuing, "And tell Philbert – Oh, by the rood!" His face took on a pained expression.

  "My lord? What ails thee?"

  "This wine! 'Tis odious!"

  Baldewyn looked aghast. "But my lord, I was told it was the castle's finest!"

  "Who told thee?"

  "'Twas the lady Cynwise, my lord. She assured me 'twas the best they hath!"

  Renaud nodded, deep in thought. "And didst she ask for whom the wine was for?"

  "Aye, my lord."

  Renaud picked up the platter of cheese and looked at it suspiciously. Holding it close to his nose, he sniffed it tentatively and immediately drew back, sneezing loudly. "This has pepper upon it!"

  "Pepper, my lord?" Baldewyn now looked terrified, as if he was sure that Renaud would punish him, although he had no idea how the cheese had been tainted so.

  Renaud closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, before turning a knowing look on Baldewyn. "Tell me, boy, didst the Lady Cynwise slice the cheese herself?"

  "Aye, my lord. S-she said 'twould give her pleasure to prepare thy fare."

  Renaud smiled grimly and handed the platter and flagon back to Baldewyn. "Take these back to the kitchen and prepare them fresh for me, thyself. No other is allowed to touch them, dost thou understand?"

  "Aye, my lord." He quickly backed out of the room and did as he was bid, leaving Renaud to ponder on how to deal with the wayward wench, Cynwise, his brother's new sister-in-law just these past few days. She had offered him a direct challenge, and upon his soul, he would make sure he was the victor.

  * * *

  Cynwise Golderon hummed happily to herself as she walked within the castle bailey. She would have loved to see the look on Renaud's face when he had tasted the food and wine his page had brought him. She had thought about listening outside his door, but the risk had been too great. She wondered how he would react if or when he found out who the culprit was. Would he spank her again? The thought did not alarm her as much as she would have thought; in fact, it brought a strange excitement! She smiled slyly and bent down to pick a daisy that had planted itself in the gravel. As she pulled it up to her nose to sniff its fragrance, she saw Renaud himself heading towards her from the main keep. His face had a look of determination upon it.

  Her stomach fluttered uneasily. 'Twould seem he was on the war path. She pondered on whether to run or stand her ground. Looking around, she spotted the small, stone well in the centre. Hurriedly, but trying not to cause suspicion, she walked over and took position behind it. Casually, she twiddled the flower between her fingers. Renaud stopped on the other side.

  "Good day, my lord." Her eyes twinkled mischievously at him.

  Renaud folded his arms over his broad chest and studied her. "Art thou aware that for every action there is a consequence?"

  "Nay, my lord. It must be a Norman trait, as I know it not. Is something amiss?" she asked innocently.

  "Aye. Deny it not, for I know thee tainted my wine and cheese, and I wouldst also blame thee for my horse's discomfort this morn. Didst thou intend for my horse to try and throw me?"

  Damn it, so he'd managed to stay astride, she thought. She hid her disappointment and maintained the guiltless look on her face. "I wouldst do no such thing, my lord!"

  "Aye, thee would. I wish to know why thou wouldst provoke me?"

  "Thou art wrong, my lord. Thy charge is false, for thee cannot prove it."

  He stepped to his right, and she quickly did the same, so they were no closer to each other. He narrowed his eyes. "Then wherefore dost thou seek to escape me?"

  "Because I trust thee not, Norman! Thy hands wouldst do me harm." She looked at them pointedly and thrummed her fingers on the well ledge. "Wherefore dost thou think I wouldst spoil thy food? Dost thou think I hath little else to occupy my time?"

  "Aye, idle hands do the devil's work, and thee, my lady, apparently, hath too much time on thy hands." He quickly lunged for her arm, but she was too quick and neatly sidestepped him once again. She could not help the smug grin that spread across her face.

  "So, thou thinketh this is amusing?" he growled ominously.

  She watched him carefully, her smile slipping a little as she took in his stance. He was like a coiled snake, ready to spring.

  "Mayhap, I should amuse myself by smacking thy bottom!" He lunged again and this time, Cynwise made a dash for the keep, shrieking as she went. She held her skirts high and fled for safety but Renaud was faster and, within seconds, he had her in a firm grip.

  "Nay, my lady Cynwise, thou cannot run from me. Wicked behaviour warrants a punishment."

  "Take thy hands off me! I am innocent!" Cynwise yelped, struggling and trying to prise his hands off her waist.

  Renaud merely lifted her off the ground and carried her over to the courtyard stairway that led up to the battlements. Making himself comfortable on the bottom step, he dragged her over his lap.

 

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