He was just in time for a small meal served to guests. He was given a little loaf of bread and a haunch of broiled rabbit with a small cup of ale. The monk in charge of the guest quarters, however, took pity on Ranulf, bringing him another piece of the rabbit, for he could see the knight was hungry, and he was, after all, a big man.

"Where are you bound for, lord?" he asked curiously.

"St. Frideswide's," Ranulf answered, bobbing his dark head in thanks for the additional food. "My wife was visiting when she delivered our son there." He chewed for a moment as he thought about his words, then lied. "I was in Worcester when word was brought me by a passing traveler. I am now going to fetch her and take her home to Ashlin."

"Ashlin? You are the lord of Ashlin?" the monk said.

"I am."

"You are very near the Welsh, and they are, I am told, growing restless of late."

"The manor is well defended, good brother. Our walls are high, and my men-at-arms well trained."

"That will not help if they burn your crops and steal your livestock," the monk replied. "They do it for the pure joy of destruction. The Welsh are godless creatures, my lord."

"Then, I will ask you to pray for Ashlin and its people." Ranulf grew concerned. "Have you heard something of late, good brother?"

"They are raiding again. Just little forays over the border, here and then there. One bandit in particular is known by name. He is called Merin ap Owen, and it is said he rides with a golden-haired witch who is as bloodthirsty as he. No one is safe from them. Several weeks ago they burned a small convent, St. Bride's, murdering the elder nuns and violating the younger women before they killed them. The carnage, it is said, was terrible, my lord." The monk shook his head sadly. "You should not travel alone."

"I am well armed," Ranulf said. "Besides, I do not look like a man worth robbing, good brother."

"There is your horse, my lord."

"True, but Shadow can outrun any bandit’s pony, I assure you."

"I will pray for you, my son," the monk said. "And for Ashlin."

Ranulf was relieved that he was, that night, the only guest at the monastery and did not have to share his pallet with anyone. He arose in the gray of predawn to attend Prime in the monk’s austere church. He was then given a surprisingly hearty breakfast of oat stirabout in a trencher of warm bread. He ate the cereal and half the bread, putting the other half into his purse for later. After draining his cup of cider, he arose, leaving a coin on the table and thanking the guest-house monk, then went to the stables to fetch his horse. The beast had been treated as well as he himself had, and so in a burst of generosity, he gave another coin to the monk who managed the stables.

He rode again until midday, stopping to water and graze his mount while he devoured the remaining trencher of bread he had carried with him. He would be at St. Frideswide’s tonight, and the meal would be another simple one. He longed for home and a hearty supper of a steamy rabbit stew with a wined gravy, a plate of juicy prawns, and a sweet pudding. Cheese. As much as he wanted. Butter. A fresh crock of it for his warm bread. Ranulf laughed as he remounted his horse and continued on his journey. He had become quite used to the soft life of a landowner. Having to take to the road again as a simple knight would be quite a hardship.

Was he being disloyal to King Stephen, he questioned himself? Yet Duke Henry had asked no great task of him, and that task certainly did not conflict with his loyalty to his king. He had, after all, pledged his fealty to Duke Henry once he became king, Ranulf reasoned. Bring the future queen to England with her child in safety, and he would have done Henry of Anjou a valuable service. What would Henry do for him? Kings were known to reward their faithful servants. What did he want? The question would be asked of him.

Ranulf considered. Suddenly he knew. He wanted the king’s permission to build a castle. To seriously help in protecting the border between England and Wales, Ashlin needed to become a castle. He could not build that castle without the king’s express permission. He would ingratiate himself with the future queen in order to gain her support as well. Ranulf smiled a wry smile. His wife would be proud of him, he thought, for he was at last thinking like a husband, a father, a lord of the manor. He chuckled, and his horse’s ears twitched back for an instant at the sound.

He rode until almost dusk, finally coming into sight of the convent. With a sigh he kicked his mount into a loping canter and eagerly gained his objective. Sister Perpetua was standing at the gates, one side of which were open and the other closed. He rode through and heard the open gate slam shut behind him with a noisy thunk. Sliding from his horse, he helped her lift the heavy wooden bar into place.

"Thank you, my lord," the portress said. "We waited for you. Eleanore was certain you would arrive before dark."

"I did promise her I would not linger in Worcester," Ranulf replied. "Have my men arrived, sister?"

"Late this afternoon, my lord. We have housed them with their animals in the stables. Reverend Mother thought it best."

"Thank you," he said. "Where is the abbess? I would pay her my respects before I go to my wife and child."

"You will find her in the chapter house."

He hurried to the directed spot and found Reverend Mother Eunice in the chamber, where she oversaw the business of the convent. The door to the room was open, and the abbess looked up from behind the long oak table where she was working.

"Come in, Sir Ranulf," she said. "Sit down."

He took the chair that was set before the table. "I have things I would impart to you that must remain a secret, my lady abbess," he began. "It is nothing traitorous, but you will understand the need for secrecy once I have spoken."

"Go on, Sir Ranulf."

"The king is dying," he began. "I have been asked by Duke Henry, who has my loyalty once King Stephen is gone, to go to Normandy in order to bring his wife and son back to England. I have been chosen by the duke to do this deed discreetly and in secrecy. It is unlikely that anyone, particularly the great lords, will ever know how the future queen came to England. The duke is returning to Normandy immediately. I will follow in a month. This should be a simple task, but if anything happens to me, I want you to know in order that you may aid my wife."

"I understand, my lord. Will you tell Eleanore where you are going and why?"

"I will. We do not keep secrets from each other, she and I."

"What will you ask the king in return for your service, Sir Ranulf?" the abbess queried him astutely.

"If I succeed in my mission for the duke, I shall ask his permission to build a castle at Ashlin."

The abbess nodded. "You are wise," she said. "We can use a castle nearby to defend our wee bit of the border."

"That is something else I wish to speak to you about. I am told that the Welsh are raiding again this year. There is a particularly vicious bandit among them called Merin ap Owen. He burned a convent recently and slaughtered the inhabitants of it. He rides with a woman, they say. Be on your guard. Make certain St. Frideswide’s is secure both day and night."

"We have generally been left in peace, as we are known to be a simple house with nothing of value. We have no silver or gold candlesticks, no reliquaries."

"You have sheep and cattle."

"That is true," the abbess said thoughtfully, "but if the Welsh come, they will more than likely drive off the animals and leave us in peace, Sir Ranulf."

"This Merin ap Owen is a man of no conscience. The younger nuns at the convent he destroyed were violated, Reverend Mother. He did not simply steal. He murdered, and he ravaged." Ranulf arose. "I will go and see my wife and son now. They continue well?"

"Aye," the abbess replied, her mind more on what he had told her than on her guest. A man who ravaged nuns was to be feared. They must pray that this Merin ap Owen not seek out St. Frideswide's.

Ranulf left the chapter house, and walked across the cloister to the guest house. Entering, he was greeted by Orva and Willa. Then his eyes moved past them to where Eleanore sat by the fireplace, nursing Simon. "Petite!" he called to her, and she looked up, her eyes alight, a smile upon her face.

"You are returned," she said. "Welcome, my lord. Come and see Simon. I swear he has grown already."

He rushed to sit by her. God, he thought, how I love her! Why can I not tell her? But he knew the answer to his question. Eleanore had wanted to be a nun with every fiber of her being. Their marriage had been forced. While women always had their marriages arranged by guardians, most had the opportunity to meet and know something about their bridegrooms before the wedding-and they had not been raised to be nuns. How could Eleanore love him when she had been made to marry him? When her whole life had been turned upside down? Still, she had been a good wife to him, but she certainly could not love the man who had been forced upon her. And he could not bear it if she rejected his love. It was far better to remain silent.

"When can we go home?" she asked.

"If you are well enough, tomorrow, petite. The men-at-arms arrived today to escort us. The Welsh are raiding again, I have been informed. I want you and Simon safe at Ashlin. I must go away in a month on Duke Henry’s business, Eleanore."

She looked puzzled and hurt, and he hastened to explain. Orva and Willa had left the hall to give them privacy. "I have entrusted this knowledge only to the abbess and to you. No one else must know why I have gone. You can say nothing, petite. We will arrange an excuse should anyone ask about my absence, particularly if Baron Hugh comes calling and snooping about while I am gone."

Elf had finished feeding her son. "Here," she said, handing the infant to his startled father. "Hold him a moment while I lace up my chemise." Then she laughed at the horrified look on her husband’s face as the baby rested in his two big hands. "Cradle him against your chest, Ranulf. He won't break." Elf laughed.

"He’s looking at me," her husband said, awed.

"Of course he is," she answered. "Your voice is new to him. He wants to know who you are. This is your father, Simon," Elf cooed. "When you are bigger, he will teach you how to use a sword and a lance, and to ride your own pony. I will teach you to read, and to write, and to have manners. And we will both love you, Simon Hubert de Glandeville, my adorable little son. And we will give you brothers to play with and sisters to tease," Elf promised.

"You want more children? But you have just had a child!" He was surprised and secretly delighted.

"Certainly I want more children! Ashlin will be a castle one day, and the de Glandevilles an important family in this region, Ranulf. Aye, we need more children. Besides," she purred into his ear, "we had so much fun making this one." Before he dropped their son, she took the baby back, laughing softly.

Ranulf swallowed hard. "Eleanore, you make it difficult for me to leave you," he said softly.

"Then, I have achieved my purpose, my lord, and you will hurry home to us." She chuckled.

Willa reentered the chamber carrying a tray. "My lord, we thought that you might not have eaten," she said, putting the tray upon the trestle in the hall.

Ranulf’s nose twitched at the fragrant smells coming from the tray, and his eyes widened at the bounty. There was a bowl of lamb stew in a thick gravy with carrots and leeks, a small broiled trout on a bed of green cress, fresh bread, cheese, and a carafe of wine. "This is convent fare?" he asked, surprised.

"The nuns eat simply, their students more heartily. You are a special guest, however, my lord," Elf said. Rising, she handed the baby to Willa, and began to serve the meal. She heaped the food generously into a bowl and onto a polished wooden plate, setting it in front of Ranulf on a small table she had pulled up.

Ranulf ate vigorously, finishing everything that he had been brought. When Elf placed a little dish of wild strawberries swimming in thick cream before him, he grinned happily. Finally, the food all eaten and the carafe drained, he pushed himself away from the little table with a contented sigh. "I have been dreaming for a week of a good meal such as you have just served me, petite."