Chapter One
Lillyth heard the excited shouts of "Horseman approaches!" and "Rider coming!" that echoed down from the watchtower and were repeated across the courtyard. She lifted her linen kirtle until it was above her ankles and sped from her chamber down to the great hall below, her eyes sparkling with the anticipation of a visitor who might perhaps have news. It would break the dull monotony of endless weeks of waiting for great events that had been rumored for years to take place, but which never seemed to come about. "And like as not ever will," mused Lillyth as she went out of the hall door into the brilliant sunshine of the last day of August in the year of our Lord 1066.
The yard was becoming crowded as word had spread from mouth to mouth, and Aedward, a young Saxon of eighteen summers, rode into their midst. His eyes quickly sought out Lillyth, and they smiled their welcome to each other as he handed his tired mount over to a serf from the stables. "What tidings, Aedward?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes going wide in momentary fear.
"No invaders, if that's your meaning. However, I have news that touches you more closely," he confided, his eyes momentarily clouding. "Come, your mother will be anxious for these letters I carry from your father. You will hear all soon enough."
The Lady Alison, Lillyth's mother, awaited them at the door as they entered the hall together.
"Bring Aedward a horn of ale, my dear," directed Lady Alison to a young serving girl. He handed the packet of letters to the older woman, and as he did so he marveled at the stately appearance she presented. She was small, dark and plump and not nearly so beautiful as her daughter, but she wasalmost regal in her bearing and always wore an air of serene authority that could set one quaking with a glance if she were displeased. Aedward avoided Lillyth's questioning eyes and watched Lady Alison's hands, adorned with many beautiful rings, open the sealed packet. She scanned the pages quickly, while Aedward drank his ale before he could put the drinking horn down. Fashioned from hollowed bulls' horns, the drinking horns had a crescent shape that made it impossible to set them down before they were empty.
"My Lord Athelstan complains this watch they keep is but another folly of King Harold's," Lady Alison told Lillyth. "No invaders sighted all these long weeks, and their supplies are near run out. Your father says they will keep watch only one more week and then return for the harvest. I think pressing business here at home, occupies his thoughts more than rumors of invasions." She was slightly shaken that Athelstan had directed her to make preparations for Lillyth's marriage to Aedward's elder brother, Wulfric, who was patrolling with him on the coast at the moment.
Even though the betrothal had stood for two years now, Lillyth shied from marriage to Wulfric, and her mother knew she would prefer the youth and kindlier manner of Aedward. She looked at the handsome couple before her. Aedward had beautiful blond shoulder-length hair, a fine mustache and a trim golden beard. In her mind's eye Lady Alison contrasted this with Wulfric's sparse red hair and bushy beard, his barrellike chest and his coarser manners. He was strong and brave and would prove a sturdy protector for their daughter; also he was not a poor man, being the lord of the nearest village, Oxstead.
She sighedand laid aside the letters. "Your lady mother will be most anxious to see you, Aedward. My deepest thanks for coming to Godstone first." She arose. "Don't keep him too long at your side, Lillyth -- unless you will dine with us before returning home?" she queried.
"Many thanks, Lady Alison, but I must let my mother know of the men's return for the harvestand the other matters," he finished lamely.
Lillyth arose and walked to the door with him. She wanted to ask a hundred questions, but knew her mother would tell her in her own good time.
"Tomorrow, early," he whispered, "before the others are about. Bring your gyrfalcon and we'll go hunting."
Lillyth nodded quickly, and he left.
"What is it, mother? Something that concerns me, is it not?" Her eyebrows rose in concern.
"After the harvest is in, your father wishes your marriage to take place without any further delays."
"Oh, no!" she whispered. "Mother, must it be?" she pleaded.
"If my Lord Athelstan so directs, daughter, there is no more to be said. However, I will consult the rune stones and see what the future holds."
Lillyth followed her mother up to the solarium, a bright room where beautiful cloth and tapestries were woven, and watched her take the rune stones from a coffer. Lady Alison laid out the oddly shaped stones before her, and sat and gazed at them for a long time. Then finally, "There is much here that I do not understand." She shook her head to dispel the dark images from her mind, but kept her own counsel about these. "However, one thing is quite plain: The marriage will take place. It is preordained, Lillyth -- you know the rune stones do not speak untruths, so it is useless to resist further."
Unhappiness and uncertainty filled her daughter's eyes, so she placed a comforting arm about the girl's shoulders. "Come now, when I came from France to wed your father I was terrified, but I managed well enough. You only have to go to the next town. Wulfric's hall is almost the equal to ours, and you will hold the place of honor."
"Forgive me, mother, if I seem ungrateful. What is to be will be. You have told me many times and none has proved you wrong yet."
Resignation quenched hope, and her light step suddenly dragged as she sought solitude in her own chamber. The room was hot, and Lillyth took off her head covering and her linen tunic, which came to her knees, and fingered the delicate emroidery that banded the neckline and hem. In her oft underdress she crossed to a tall coffer and poured cool water into a bowl. She scented it with few drops of rosewater she had helped her mother distill, and washed her face and hands.
Guy de Montgomery's army sweeps across the British countryside -- and the lovely Lillyth of Godstone Hall despairs as her beloved home falls to the Norman invaders. Yet she is irresistibly drawn to the dashing conqueror whose strength and gentle virility leave her breathless ... and force her sensous surrender. But noble Guy is himself love's helpless prisoner, sworn to protect the proud lady of his desires from the brutality of others. For it is she who is the fairest prize in all England. And though treacherous friend and foe alike rise up to challenge him, Guy will never relinquish this bewitching woman who has enflamed his warrior's blood with a passion he is powerless to resist.