Ranulf declared a full day’s holiday on Mary’s Day, which was also Elf’s fifteenth birthday. A Maypole was raised, and the lord and lady danced about it with their people. Tables were set up in the near sunny meadow, and a feast served at the expense of the master and mistress. Barrels of cider and ale were rolled out for drinking. There were footraces and an archery contest with the winners receiving a young cock and two hens. The church had been finished, its walls repaired, its roof newly thatched. Ranulf gave his permission for half-a-dozen marriages to take place as soon as the priest was sent. Two of the brides-to-be were already with child, but there was no shame in it as it but proved their fertility, and their young men were true.
'There be a rider approaching,' one of the girls cried out, pointing and excited, for visitors were a rarity at isolated manors like Ashlin.
The sun glinted off the riders sword hilt, Ranulf noted. A knight. Was he alone? A member of an advance party? But no. He would not come alone to scout for a larger, menacing group. Besides, the knight rode slowly, which meant his destination was in sight, and that destination could only be Ashlin. Ranulf stood up, and called to one of the house serfs. 'Go inside, and bring me my sword. Hurry!' The man ran off, returning quickly with his lord’s sword and belt, which Ranulf buckled swiftly about him. Then he began to walk forward, distancing himself from the revelers, distinguishing himself so the strange knight would understand that Ranulf was lord of this manor.
Silently, Elf came and stood by her husband’s side. He looked down at her with a small smile.
The rider drew his great warhorse to a halt. 'You are the lord of Ashlin manor?' he queried politely.
'I am. Ranulf de Glandeville is my name. How may I be of service to you, Sir Knight?'
The knight dismounted, and held out the hand of friendship to Ranulf, who accepted it. 'I am Garrick Taliferro, and I have been sent by Duke Henry to speak with you, my lord.'
'Duke Henry?' Ranulf was momentarily puzzled.
'The lord of Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Tourraine, and Aquitaine,' Sir Garrick said quietly.
'Empress Matilda’s eldest son? I am King Stephen’s man, sir. I have always been, and will be until the king is no more,' Ranulf replied.
'Sir Garrick,' Elf interrupted. 'You will be thirsty with your ride. Come, and let us bring you some wine. Rolph, take the knight’s horse, and see it is stabled properly, fed, and watered.'
'This is my wife, the lady Eleanore,' Ranulf said, 'and she is correct. I have forgotten my manners. Come, sir. The manor is celebrating Mary’s Day as well as my wife’s natal day. Please join us, after which we will talk.'
Sir Garrick was seated at the main trestle. A cup of wine was placed in his hand by Cedric himself, who had hurried into the house to bring out a decanter. A plate of food was set before the knight, who ate with gusto, quickly emptying the plate twice, and the goblet three times before he finally pushed himself away from the table, a smile of satisfaction upon his face. 'Your hospitality is more than welcome,' he told them, 'and I thank you.'
'You will remain the night with us, of course,' Elf said.
'Gladly, lady.'
'Will you tell us why you have come from Duke Henry?' Ranulf asked. 'As I have said, I am King Stephen’s man.'
'Duke Henry knows this, my lord. That is why I have been sent to you, and to many others like you. I am not here to suborn your loyalty to King Stephen. It is that very loyalty which attracts my master, the duke. Being so off the beaten track, you may not be aware of the events of recent months.'
'I was wed to my wife last December first by the Bishop of Worcester, and in the king’s presence. Until then I was naught but a knight in the king’s service. We departed that same day to return to Ashlin, and have had no visitors at all since we arrived. What has happened? Is the king well?'
'King Stephen is well, and there is a truce now throughout all of the land. Duke Henry arrived in England in January.'
'He crossed from Normandy in wintertime?' Ranulf was astounded. The channel in the best of weather was a rough passage, but in the depth of winter could be a raging tumult of a sea. The duke was either very brave, or a fortunate fool, Ranulf thought to himself.
'During his own lifetime King Stephen wishes to crown his eldest son, Eustace, as England’s king,' Sir Garrick began. 'As you know this is a custom practiced by the French kings. The Archbishop of Canterbury, however, on Pope Adrien’s command, refused. Prince Eustace is frankly as unpleasant a fellow as the Empress Matilda is an unpleasant lady.'
'Yes,' Ranulf said. 'I have heard that he is nothing like either of his gentle parents.'
'The church now attempts to mediate a solution to this long and dark crisis that has plagued England these many years. The church has suggested that King Stephen rule for his lifetime, but that when he dies, the crown go to Duke Henry, the empress’s eldest son.' The knight paused, and took a swallow of his wine. 'The king,' he continued, 'of course, resists this solution, but in the end he must come to accept it. Eustace is unfit to rule, and his young brother, William, has assured Duke Henry that he is content as Count of Bologne. William has no designs upon the English throne.'
'But Duke Henry does,' Ranulf said quietly.
'It is his by right, my lord,' Sir Garrick replied. 'My master wishes to know if you will support him over Prince Eustace once King Stephen is dead. Your manor, small as it may be, sits in a strategic area, near to the Welsh border.' Sir Garrick gazed about him. 'Are your walls new?'
'Nay,' Ranulf responded. 'We have simply strengthened them. Come, and I will show you, Sir Garrick.'
The two men rose and walked toward the demesne.
Elf signaled to Willa and Ida. 'Come,' she said, 'we must prepare the best bed space for this knight.' The three women hurried into the house.
As they lay abed later, Elf asked her husband, 'What will you do, Ranulf? Will you support Eustace or Duke Henry?'
'Duke Henry,' her husband replied without hesitation.
'Why?'
'For several reasons, petite. Eustace, whom I have known all of his life, is a very unpleasant man lacking completely in his father’s charm or chivalry. I began my career when I was just seven at King Henry’s court. That king died when I was almost thirteen. I was Stephen of Blois’s page, whenever he was in England. He was his uncle, the king's, favorite. I learned to love him, although if the truth be known, he is not the best of kings, petite. He has charm, and he is a brave fighter, but he has not the other skills needed to be successful. Only the fact that the Empress Matilda is so arrogant, over-proud, and nasty a lady-coupled with the fact it suited the more powerful lords and barons to keep the country in chaos without a strong central government-has kept Stephen king in power. When he became king, I was made one of his squires, then knighted when I was sixteen. He was always kind to me, and generous as well. Had I been a boastful man, I should have been resented by those whose sons were of higher rank. My loyalty was always and openly to King Stephen. You understand why, don't you, Elf?'
She nodded.
He continued. 'I knew his queen, the heiress of Eustace, the Count of Bologne, and his wife, Mary of Scotland, King Malcolm’s youngest child. She was called Matilda, and she loved King Stephen with all her heart as he loved her. There were three sons of the union. Baldwin, who died when he was nine. Eustace, and William, who is the Count of Bologne today. There were two daughters. The first died before she was two. The second, Mary, is unwed. Count William and his sister, Mary, are courteous and pleasant people. Eustace is violent, haughty, disdainful, and overbearing. Even his own wife, Constance of Toulouse, does not like
