The Blue Falcon Read online

  Edwina pulled the cloth from her brow and with a half smile handed it to Chandra. “Thank you, Chandra. You are good to think of me.”

  “You’ll have to sleep for a while if you’re to be at your best for this evening’s entertainment.”

  Edwina laughed softly and began to rise. “There is far too much to be done--” She stopped abruptly as though she felt a catch somewhere, but then straightened herself purposefully. “I have a few more things to see finished before I rest.”

  Chandra felt trapped. She could plainly see that Edwina was exhausted and would likely collapse before she neared the altar. It was tempting indeed to allow her older sister to run herself into the ground and never be able to rise from her bed to meet Conan before the priest. Then wouldn’t every­one praise the grand match, Chandra thought spitefully.

  But she could not abandon Edwina, much as she would have liked to. “What more needs to be done?” she finally asked, though softly.

  “A great deal--a great deal indeed. I have not yet selected the birds to be roasted nor the food to be put out for the villagers. There are gifts to be given to the women attending me, a tithe for the priest--an amount not yet settled--and the minstrel I sent for has not arrived. I shall be busy until Conan arrives tonight.”

  Chandra frowned in disapproval. Many of those chores for the wedding could have been taken care of days earlier, but Edwina was not very good at planning. “It is not so very much,” Chandra said. “Will you rest if I promise to see it done?”

  “Oh, Chandra, I couldn’t let you--”

  “I assure you, I shall roust Laine from her prayers and put her to work. A better emissary to Father Michael I cannot imagine.”

  Edwina laughed at that. “You are so good to me, Chandra dear.”

  “I would rather be working than sitting to sew with the women,” she said with a shrug. “But I will not lift a finger unless you promise to rest until the evening meal.”

  “That will not be easy, knowing you are working so hard for my wedding day,” Edwina said sweetly, embracing Chan­dra and holding her near.

  Chandra was caught off guard by the action and returned her sister’s embrace almost fiercely. I love them both! she thought miserably, tears springing to her eyes. While she had hoped they would not be man and wife, neither did she want them to be unhappy.

  Edwina was aware of the tears and held Chandra away from her, looking quizzically at her younger sister’s face. “Chandra, why do you weep?”

  Chandra wiped impatiently at her tears and tried to smile, but it was a lame attempt. “I will miss you so much,” she told Edwina, her voice catching as she realized she would, indeed, be very lonely without her sister.

  Edwina’s long, slender fingers gently brushed Chandra’s cheeks. Chandra looked with fondness at Edwina’s face. Her eyes were a pale blue, small and soft, and her complexion was fair, not rosy. But when she smiled and comforted, there was a beauty that was nearly regal. Edwina was good and kind. There was much about her to love, even the weaknesses that could be exasperating made Chandra love her, for it made her feel stronger and more capable. Perhaps Conan would feel the same. Perhaps it would be as it had been with her parents, and they would be devoted to each other.

  “Now you must dry your eyes and smile prettily,” Edwina said. “You are so beautiful when you smile. You are more beautiful than any--so bright and wonderful. But when you weep, my dearest, your nose is very red!”

  Chandra laughed suddenly.

  “There! That is what I love best about you! When you laugh you are so very beautiful!”

  Chandra kissed Edwina’s cheek. “Rest easy,” she reas­sured her. “I will see the chores done.”

  Each of Medwin’s daughters had stirrings that were difficult for the others to understand. Laine’s calling to the faith was something that Edwina and Chandra did not share. Edwina’s soft, retiring manner was a thing that her more robust and lively sisters were impatient with. And as for Chandra, her obsessiveness over managing a large keep and many people with such an intensive regard for every detail was something that confused and bewildered Laine and Edwina, who did not share that appetite for hard work.

  Despite their different interests, a deep and unquestioned devotion for one another sustained them. So while Chandra went about making preparations for the wedding, she did it with a glad heart. She had never been very good at sitting still, and these many tasks made her feel more confident, for she knew no other in her father’s house could manage with like perfection.

  She judged the stock of available birds and chose four round peacocks to be skinned, cooked and then glided back into their colorful feathered skins with the tail feathers spread to make the main dish. She sent maids to gather roses, violets and primroses to be dried and chopped and stirred into the sweet pastry that would make the dessert. She selected the wines to be served at the wedding feast: vernage, a red wine from Tuscany; capric, a special possession of Medwin’s from Cyprus; and a Rhenish wine. She worried over the fact that there were no raw apples to set out in case of a disagreeable wine.

  For the common folk a boar would be roasted--or should she make that two? With roast goose and piglet and plenty of bragot, a drink made from ale, honey and spices, one boar should be enough. And spiced cakes and cheese would complete their fare.

  She gathered together all those who had been selected to serve the prestigious guests in the hall and gardens. She explained carefully, at least a dozen times, how to serve. The goblets must be held so that no unsightly finger marks showed on the side. Wine must be poured with two hands. The meat must be carved before the master of each table after carefully pulling off the wings. When she was convinced they understood, she inspected the clothes they would wear and sent several off to have their tunics cleaned or stitched, warning them of grave consequences if they entered the hall looking shabby.

  The minstrel finally arrived with acrobats to aid in the entertainment, and she hurriedly found them lodging within the castle, though that was a difficult task, so full was the keep. Some poor castle woman would have to find a pallet in the town, for her room was given away.

  She then, as an afterthought, had a drink prepared with diaciminum and sweet wine for Edwina, to ward off possible indigestion. She sent diaprune along to make her immune to fever. She hoped no other affliction would catch Edwina unawares--she was so susceptible, it seemed, to illness.

  So that some of the festive colors would adorn the breads and gravies, saffron, leeks and certain floral buds were gathered. Strings soaked in honey were ordered hung about the hall so that the flies would not bother the food. For this great occasion the silver, brass and pewter were polished, inspected by Chandra, and polished again. Wooden mazers and cups made of tin were procured, for there was never enough of the finer metal, but all must be given an implement to drink from.

  Laine had settled with the priest on a sum for the wedding tithe, and as the evening meal was just beginning, Chandra went with her father’s helpmate to his counting room to draw out the sum. Though the monk attending her was older than she, he seemed to be in awe of her. He couldn’t quite accept a woman’s handling of sums. And Chandra, already tired and eager to finish these undone chores, was quick and decisive, and impatient with the man’s slow and tedious counting. More than once she jerked the coins from his hand to count them herself and, claiming possession of the quill, scribbled the amounts on the parchment for Medwin’s records.

  When that was done, Chandra assured herself that Edwina would already be in the hall, and in near exhaustion she leaned her forehead against the cool stone wall just outside the chamber she and Laine shared.

  With a sigh she opened the door to her bedroom, only to find that the room was no longer her own. Her presence was stripped from the room she had shared with her sisters since birth. The large oaken frame that would belong to the bridal couple replaced the three smaller beds that previously occu­pied the room.

  The transition had been discussed
. It was not a complete surprise to her. At least it should not have been. A special chamber for the bedding of the bridal couple needed to be set aside. And for their business of that first night together it would not do to be without a bed that could accommodate them both. For their short stay at Phalen, Edwina and Conan must have a privileged chamber.

  But seeing the women preparing the room, hanging bed curtains, sprinkling herbs on the sheets in a fertility ritual, caused Chandra to lean against the open door in near despair. She was in awe of the business before her. The reality of it left her breathless. Their lives would be intimately entwined. The wedding was a formal exchange that would prepare them for this, and the picture was clear. It was the image in her fantasy--but the woman pressed passionately against Conan’s body would be Edwina.

  “Knowin’ you was so busy, milady, we took your things to--”

  “I know which room is to be mine,” she replied meekly. Giving a last look about the chamber, she smiled sheepishly at the serving woman and quit the room.

  Her things were neatly stacked in a room on the other side of the keep, thankfully far from where the bridal couple would sleep. She was sticky with perspiration and grimy from supervising the cooking. Her hair was limp and dirty, but there was no time to wash it. There was no servant free to aid her in dressing, and with a numb acceptance she moved through her grooming with a general malaise. When she scrubbed her face with a cold cloth she realized with a start that Conan would be downstairs now. Now! He and his family were due to arrive this afternoon, but her chores had kept her far from the guests.

  Her hands began to tremble as she pulled her ivory comb through her hair. She donned her dress hurriedly, a pale gold kirtle and a darker gold gunna to cover it. She fastened an anklet about her slender ankle and slipped on her one good pair of slippers. Her gold girdle was the last thing to be applied, and since there was no one to help her, she left her hair to trail loosely down her back.

  She paused only a moment to catch her breath and then hurried to the party below. Medwin was the first to notice her and greeted her warmly, not questioning her on her lateness or her appearance. She had missed the meal, and just looking at the trenchers of bones and gristle from the pork caused her stomach to cry out with a loud gurgle, a sound never heard in this noisy hall. Medwin pulled her into a tight circle of friends, his closest friends: Alaric and Theodoric.

  “Each spring she blossoms more beautiful than the spring before,” Theodoric attested loudly.

  “And she is still free to roam among these swains and set their hearts to flutter,” Alaric said. “You are unfair, Medwin, to leave her unbidden for so long.”

  “She is the youngest born and not easy to give away to any eager young buck. I grow cranky with the thought. She is a great help to me here.”

  Chandra looked at her father with a twinkle in her eye. It was such a bright spot in her otherwise bleak day to hear someone attesting to her good qualities. “You are kind, Father, to flatter me so, but speak the truth to your friends. He is often angry with me and complains that I nag him overmuch on household matters. I think he will be glad when I am no longer his burden.”

  “I pray for such burdens,” Theodoric roared.

  Sir Tedric joined their circle, bowing elaborately over Chandra’s hand, making quite a show of his courtly manners. He, too, made several remarks about how lovely she was and offered his escort for any time during the days of celebrating. Even though she did not much like Tedric, even his compli­ments were easy to bear.

  The next to make their way toward her were two knights she barely knew, but recognized with an eager smile. Sir Mallory and Sir Thurwell she knew to be close friends to Conan, and for that reason alone she smiled more gaily than before.

  Following was Lady Udele, smiling brightly and showing her most gracious manners. She embraced Chandra warmly.

  “Dear child--nay! Child no more, but woman! You are exquisite, but then I knew you would be. You grow more beautiful every time I see you.” She cast Medwin a simpering look. “My lord, you have the most beautiful daughters in the land. Lady Chandra,” she sighed, taking Chandra’s hand in her own. “You are a vision.”

  Chandra smiled, thanking the lady rather awkwardly. She could not help but believe that had Udele kept silent, Conan might not have been persuaded to ask for Edwina’s hand. “You are overkind, my lady,” Chandra demurred.

  “I am not kind!” Udele protested. “I speak only the truth! Sir Medwin, you must catch a fine husband for this lass, and soon. Her face and body beckon a man’s touch!” The men laughed loudly at Udele’s compliment and Chandra felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

  “Come, dear,” Udele urged. “Come and greet my son and soon-to-be daughter.”

  Chandra let Lady Udele pull her toward the bridal couple, and all those compliments that only moments earlier made her confidence soar seemed long ago and far away. Now she felt her stomach jump and her heart race at the thought of facing Conan.

  Edwina was glowingly lovely at Conan’s side, her pale, soft beauty radiating her high spirits. Her gown was the same soft blue that she had worn to the tournament feast, a gold girdle that had belonged to Millicent fitting snugly about her narrow hips. A sheer length of pale blue cloth fell from her circlet, a gold band that was perfectly fitted about her head. The cloth did not hide her beautiful hair, but rather drew attention to it, for the golden locks fell luxuriously down her back to far below the sheer blue.

  Chandra had wanted Edwina to look her prettiest for the wedding, but this sight of her only made her feel dowdy. Her composure was teetering on a brittle edge, nearly ready to tumble.

  Conan kissed her hand and greeted her warmly, but she did not hear his words. He seemed to have grown taller, his shoulders broader than before--or had her memory failed her? His widely acclaimed victory at Stoddard might cause him to stand taller, more self-assured. He was terribly at ease with being the center of attention.

  “I thought by coming early I might be of some help to Edwina, with her blessed mother gone,” Udele said, patting the bride’s hand with affection. Chandra felt stung. It was her mother, too. “But I’ve made the rounds and find she has completed all the preparations. The church is decked in the finest of colors and the meals well planned. Even now the cooks work hard to please her. There is not a thing undone.”

  Chandra looked in some perplexity at Edwina, who smiled shyly at the compliments and never uttered a word that she had done very little of the work herself. Then she looked at Udele and saw the glitter in her green eyes. Chandra was not a fool. Had Udele truly asked, she would have learned that those in service to the castle worked by Chandra’s orders. This play was for Conan, making his bride appear industrious and efficient.

  “You are so lovely, dear,” Udele said to Edwina. “How proud I shall be to call you daughter.”

  “Thank you, madam,” Edwina replied shyly.

  “Is she not the most perfect bride, Conan? Ah, you are a lucky man.”

  Conan’s arm slipped around Edwina’s delicate waist and he pulled her close, smiling into her eyes. “She is, madam,” he agreed. His lips came down slowly and Edwina met him in a kiss.

  It did not go unnoticed, for first one man cried out and then many joined in, making jests, crude and otherwise, over the groom’s eagerness. Conan seemed to enjoy the attention and Edwina lightly blushed. The one who glowed was Udele, taking a sidelong glance at Chandra, meeting the younger girl’s eyes. She seemed to be saying something, announcing that she had the situation well in hand.

  Without asking to be excused, Chandra turned and melted into the crowd of knights and ladies. She took the first exit from the stifling hall and fled straightaway to the gardens. She startled a young couple who had escaped to that haven in hopes of having a few private moments, finding their hopes dashed as Chandra breezed through. Her steps were quick and agitated. She walked deep into the roses toward her favorite hiding place, plopping down on the garden bench with a huff, feeli
ng the anger and frustration tighten her every muscle.

  It was only moments before the anger fled and she relaxed into a rush of tears. Her tired body simply could not support her wish to be gay and composed. She was not only to stand and watch her every dream blow away like clouds on a windy day, but her labors were to go completely unnoticed as well. She could not stand pleased and poised; it was too much to ask.

  Chandra was not disturbed in the garden and her tears became less passionate as the hour grew later. The sounds from within the hall grew dimmer and she knew that many were giving up their horns and seeking their beds. But Chandra did not leave. She would allow enough time for all the guests to retire. She could not enter the hall and let her swollen eyes betray her own weak emotions.

  When the hall was completely quiet she rose with a sigh and made her way into the keep, oblivious to how long she had hidden in the garden. Her steps were slow and lazy, her hands plunged deep into the pockets of her gunna and her head down. She kicked at a pebble now and then in her path.

  Suddenly she felt as if she’d been hit with a ramming log and before she could fall, strong arms encircled her and righted her.

  “My pardon, lady, I--” Conan apologized. “Chandra! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

  “Nor I you,” she said breathlessly. “ ‘Twas my fault. I was watching my feet.” She made to pass him to go on her way, but he stopped her.

  “Is something amiss? You’re about so late--Chandra? Have you been crying?”

  “Nay, I am only very tired. Good night, my lord.”

  “A moment, I pray. I think I should at least give you thanks. I know what you have done.”

  “I?” she asked, confused.

  “I know you labored hard in preparation for the wedding.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Edwina. She is not so selfish as to take credit for your hard work, but I urged her to let the matter rest as it does with my mother. If it brings pride to my mother and her pleasure with Edwina, no harm done.”