semi-circle of his sword hilt, and although she knew it must surely be from habit, she still felt uneasy. He was so tall, so fluid of movement. Her brothers were tall too, but their tread was bear-like, and this Norman walked as lightly as a cat.
'See,' she spread her arm to encompass the devastation. 'My leeks too.'
He folded his arms and stood with his legs apart, a frown knitting his brows. 'Sleipnir adores cabbages.' He paused, seeking for easy words to help her understand. 'Horses, they should not eat such things, but he does not care. He had very bad colic in Winchester when he raided a market stall. I was worried that he would die – if he did I would be unable to replace him.'
Ailith had picked up enough of the gist to be further angered. 'I lost my brothers to your butchery at Hastings!' she snapped. 'They were irreplaceable too. Do you think I care about your stupid horse?'
He unfolded his arms. She saw him inhale to speak and then suddenly think the better of it. Instead he rummaged in the pouch at his belt, and withdrew a handful of small silver coins. 'Will this pay for the damage?'
She wanted to dash them to the ground at his feet and screech that she would not touch money that had been dipped in blood. Quivering, she fought off the impulse. It was what she wanted, wasn't it? Compensation? 'For the damage to my garden, yes,' she muttered gracelessly and took the silver from him. All fingers and thumbs, she struggled to place it in her own small pouch.
He watched her in silence. After a time he said gently, 'I too suffered losses at the great battle. Many good friends I will not see again in this life… including his former owner.' He looked over his shoulder at the horse.
Ailith made to return to the house.
'No, wait, please.'
Against her better judgement, the urgency in his voice made her turn round.
He grimaced and pinched the end of his fine, straight nose.' I am not the most tactful of men,' he said. 'I offer you a full apology for the damage my horse has caused.'
Ailith nodded stiffly. 'It is accepted,' she replied, her tone cold and far from gracious.
'My name is Rolf de Brize-sur-Risle,' he continued. 'Aubert de Remy is my friend and I am billeted with him for the moment. From what he has told me, you must be Ailith, and your husband is a master armourer?'
Ailith did not understand all that he had said, but she understood enough to be much taken aback that he should know who she and Goldwin were. It was an uncomfortable thought that a Norman stranger should own such knowledge. Mutely she nodded.
The Norman drew the knife from his belt and showed it to her. 'Aubert asked your husband to make this for me. It is the best work I have ever seen. Aubert says that he made armour for Harold Godwinson himself.' His attention suddenly cut towards the house.' And this is your husband coming now?'
Ailith turned and saw Goldwin moving stiffly towards them.
'Yes,' she said, 'this is my husband. He speaks no French at all.'
Goldwin reached them and Ailith saw his gaze travel grimly over the ruined vegetable garden before coming to rest on the powerful grey horse tied to the pear tree. 'He has made recompense,' she said quickly. 'His name is Rolf de Brize-sur-Risle, and he's a friend of Aubert's.' Hastily she explained the rest of the situation and finished by saying that the Norman had praised Goldwin's craftsmanship. 'You made his knife apparently.'
Goldwin looked the handsome stranger up and down, then fixed his eyes on the scramaseax in the man's hand. 'And where is Aubert now?'
Ailith translated, and the Norman shrugged. 'He should be here soon. I think he is visiting his wife. She is great with child.' He sheathed the knife. 'Duke William has need of craftsmen. It may well be that Aubert and I could put some useful business your way.'
Goldwin drew himself up as Ailith explained what she believed Rolf had said. 'Norman business?' he growled.
'Tell him that a man has to eat.'
'I will tell him nothing. He will come to his own decision,' Ailith said stiffly.
Rolf de Brize chewed his lip for a moment, then nodded. 'I will visit another time,' he said. 'I have to treat my horse for the colic' A grimace crossed his face. Inclining his head to both Ailith and Goldwin, he turned away.
He was untying the grey from the tree when Aubert came walking up the garth, his mobile features pensive. Obviously, Ailith thought, he had heard voices and decided to investigate. Aubert paused to speak briefly to the other Norman. De Brize replied, shrugged, and with a salute, led his horse away.
Goldwin permitted Aubert to continue up the garth, waiting until there were only feet between them.
The Norman cleared his throat and attempted a smile. 'It is good to see you, Goldwin,' he said, and extended his right hand in friendship. 'I heard you were wounded at the battle for the north.'
Goldwin ignored the gesture. 'You are nithing,' he said in a soft, contemptuous voice. It was the worst insult that an Englishman could use to another, and such was its power, that it was known and used in Normandy too.
Aubert blenched. 'Listen, I want to tell you that I never intended…'
His words fell on deaf ears, Goldwin looked straight through him, then turned his back and walked away. 'Come, Ailith,' he commanded.
She dared not defy him. With a single, frightened glance at Aubert's shocked face, she followed Goldwin into the house, leaving Aubert standing alone amid the ruins of her vegetable plot.
'I'll find custom without his help,' Goldwin muttered through his teeth as Wulfhild served them with bacon pottage and Ailith unlaced her bodice to feed the baby. 'He lied to us, betrayed our trust. God's eyes, I'd rather do business with that red-haired horse-warrior than I would with Aubert de Remy. Wine-merchant, hah! To think of all the occasions he sat at our board listening to our conversation, and all the time he was gleaning information for William of Normandy. And then he has the gall to expect me to remain his friend!'
'I believe he is sorry,' Ailith murmured, trying to be fair. 'Perhaps he had no choice.' Harold did not want to wake up. She blew gently on his face. He grimaced, half-opened his eyes, took one attempt at her nipple, enough to make her milk drip, then returned to sleep. He had scarcely fed all day, indeed had scarcely woken up. She laid the palm of her hand against his little body, but he did not appear to have a fever. Perhaps in the morning she would ask Hulda to have a look at him.
'He can be as sorry as he likes,' Goldwin grunted. 'I have called him nithing and nithing he will remain. And from now on, you will have no more ado with that wife of his either.'
Ailith bit her lip in dismay. 'Aubert used you once,' she said. 'Now it is your turn to use him. He can find clients for you, rich Normans. Surely it is foolish to turn your back on what he can offer.'
'No!' Goldwin snapped. 'I will hear no more on the subject. Let that be an end to it!'
Ailith bowed her head over the baby and swallowed her exasperation. She knew Goldwin could be a stubborn ass when the mood was upon him, and trying to make him change his mind would only cause him to dig in his heels as hard as he could to the detriment of all common sense. She would hold her tongue today in the interests of using it tomorrow.
'I did not expect to find him so altered.' Aubert hunched over the desultory fire burning in the central hearth and rubbed his hands together. 'So bitter and angry when before he was so good-humoured and steady.'
'There have been a few changes since then,' Rolf observed wryly, glancing up from the piece of harness he was repairing. 'And he must have his pride. Don't worry about it, I'll bring him round.'
Aubert threw a kindling twig at him. 'How, by letting your destrier trample his garden?' he said acidly.
'The garden is his wife's domain, and her temper calmed when I spoke her fair and sweetened my words with a recompense of silver.' Rolf chuckled. 'If you thought her husband was angry, you should have seen her when I arrived in their garth. Dear Jesu, she was chasing Sleipnir with a besom, and she looked magnificent! I thought for a moment she was going to set about me as well. I half-wish she had,' he added wistfully.
Aubert glanced at him sharply. 'Duke William says that he will hang any soldier caught molesting the Londoners' women, and he will make no exception for rank.'
'Peace, Aubert, I did but jest,' Rolf said with amused irritation. 'I thought she was handsome, but I was admiring her the way I would admire a horse.'
'You mean you wondered what she was like to ride?' Aubert said archly.
Rolf shrugged. 'It went no further than a mild curiosity. I've no desire to fetch up a gelding. There are
