The Forest Dwellers by Arnopp Judith

Author:Arnopp, Judith [Arnopp, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2011-11-27T16:00:00+00:00

Charles the King, our Lord and Sovereign,

Full seven years hath sojourned in Spain,

Conquered the land, and won the western main,

Now no fortress against him doth remain

No city walls are left for him to gain,

Save Sarraguce, that sits on high mountain.

Marsile its King, who feareth not God's name,

Mahumet's man, he invokes Apollin's aid,

Nor wards off ills that shall to him attain.

I groaned inwardly. The Song of Roland, a favoured poem of the Normans, was interminably long but, beside me, Ælf rested her chin on her hands and prepared to listen for the piece was new to her.

The torchlight leapt and danced in her eyes, her cheeks were rosy from a surfeit of food. Across the table, a hearth-wench smiled at her invitingly and Ælf sent her a jolly grin in return, thinking she had found a friend. The girl leaned over, her bosom all but spilling from her bodice and placed a foaming cup of ale on the board.

Ælf nodded her thanks and dipped her face to it. I watched the two of them with narrowed eyes as the wench worked her way slowly along the row of revellers, every so often casting her eye back to smile at Ælf again. I nudged Ælf sharply in the ribs.

‘What are you doing?’ I hissed.

She slammed down her ale.

What?’

Her mouth was half open and the moistness of her inner lip made me long to suck it. I put my face close to her ear.

‘That wench will have you wedged tight between her knees if you smile at her again. Are you really such an innocent?’

The colour drained from her cheeks and she flashed a glance up the table to where the girl was dimpling back at her. Ælf looked sharply down at her ale cup.

‘For the love of God,’ she growled, ‘is the whole world corrupt. It seems I cannot move for suitors.’

A great gusty sigh escaped me. Sometimes she annoyed more than charmed me. I’d like to spank her. I dwelled on that happy thought for a while before pulling myself back to offer an answer.

‘The fault is with you, Ælf. You would make a fine looking woman if only you’d allow it but, as a fellow, you are far prettier than a man has the right to be. I have a similar effect on women, the poor girl cannot help herself.’

She flushed, her chin on her chest. I shifted in my seat as she took up her cup again and decided to take the plunge.

‘Ælf, you know ‘tis more than lust with me, don’t you? You know you have my heart?’

She choked on her ale, her eyes watering and I thumped her on the back until she held up a hand begging me stop. After a moment, she looked up at me, tears on her cheek from the coughing, her voice hoarse.

‘Tis said, among the stable boys, that half the women in the castle have had their share of your love. Now it is my turn don’t expect me to fall at your feet.

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