To The Castle. Joan Wolf

must be Roger, Nell thought.

      With her eyes on the floor, she walked with her mother across the hall. When they had almost reached the fireplace her father stepped forward and offered her his arm. Thus supported, she was brought to meet her bridegroom.

      “Earl William and Lord Roger,” her father said. “I am pleased to introduce to you my daughter, Eleanor.”

      Nell curtsied to the earl, then turned to Roger. For the first time she lifted her eyes.

      He was very handsome. His hair was dark gold and his eyes were golden, as well. She thought they bore an expression of relief.

      “My lord,” she managed to say. “You are welcome to Bardney.”

      “I am pleased to be here, my lady,” he replied, and smiled at her. He had a nice smile; his teeth were white and even.

      Nell tried and failed to smile back.

      Everyone, including the pages who sat on a bench along the wall, watched the two of them. Nell turned to her mother for help.

      “Nell, why don’t you show Lord Roger around the bailey?” Lady Alice suggested. “I’m sure you two young people would like to spend some time together.”

      The last thing Nell wanted was to be alone with her future husband. She gave her mother a reproachful look, but it was too late. The words had been spoken.

      “Would you like to see the bailey, my lord?” she asked Roger. Her eyes were on a level with his mouth. At least he didn’t tower over her, like her father did.

      “I would like that very much,” he said. He sounded courteous and she peeked a look upward. His eyes were grave.

      “Go along, Nell,” her father said. “Be sure to show Roger my horses.”

      “Yes, Father,” Nell said. Then to Roger, “Will you come with me?”

      He fell in beside her and together they crossed the wide expanse of the Great Hall. Nell could feel everyone watch them as they went.

      “I’m afraid I’m not overly acquainted with the bailey, my lord,” Nell said as they approached the door, “but I’ll do my best to show you around.”

      “Are you called Nell?” he asked.

      “Yes. My given name is Eleanor, but I have always been called Nell.”

      He nodded. “Well then, Nell, why are you not acquainted with the bailey of your own castle?”

      Her name sounded strange on this strange man’s lips. She said, “I have only been home for a month, my lord, and we have been busy making wedding clothes the whole time.”

      They had arrived at the front door of the castle, which was open to let in the air. He looked at her curiously. “If you were not at Bardney all this time, then where were you?”

      They walked through the door and started across the inner bailey, toward the portcullis gate. She shot him a swift, upward look. “They haven’t told you?”

      He shook his head. Gold glinted from his hair in the sunlight. “They have told me nothing,” he said. “It seemed as if your father produced you out of nowhere, like a magician. My grandfather and I had always thought that Sybilla was an only daughter.”

      Nell drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I was in the convent,” she said. “My parents sent me there when my brother was born. Then, when Sybilla died, they changed their minds.”

      Roger was silent as they passed under the lifted portcullis gate. As they emerged into the large enclosure that was the outer bailey, he said slowly, “So that was the mystery. We wondered where this other daughter had come from.”

      “I can’t imagine why they didn’t tell you,” Nell said.

      He looked down at her. “I suppose your parents didn’t think it was important and my grandfather didn’t care. All that mattered to him was that there was another daughter.” He gave her a fleeting grin. “But I wondered where you had come from. I had a few unpleasant ideas, I can tell you that.”

      He had a very nice speaking voice, very clear but not harsh. Not like her father’s.

      He continued to look down at her. “Were you a nun?” he asked.

      She shook her head. “I was due to be professed at the end of this year.”

      The August sun shone brightly on the packed-dirt ground of the bailey. The blue flags flying from the towers fluttered in the afternoon breeze. The men guarding the main gate watched them as they turned left to follow the line of the wall. “How old were you when you were sent to the convent?” Roger asked.

      “Eight,” she replied.

      “You were there a long time,” he said, sounding surprised.

      “Yes. It is the only life I ever knew until I came to Bardney a few weeks ago.”

      He looked at her thoughtfully. “Did you want to leave?” She returned his gaze straightly. “No, I did not.”

      Wonderful, Roger thought ironically. They are marrying me to a girl who wants to be a nun.

      Nell looked around. “My father wants me to take you to the stable, but I’ve never been out of this front part of the bailey. I don’t know where the stable is.”

      Roger looked around at the storage sheds and craftsmen’s workshops that lined the stone walls in this part of the bailey. He said, “Let’s walk around the whole bailey and we’re certain to find it.”

      They began walking toward the east side of the bailey, with Roger accommodating his stride to Nell’s shorter step.

      Roger said, “Have they explained to you the reason for this marriage?”

      “Yes,” Nell said shortly. “It is political.”

      “It’s more than political,” he explained. “It’s dynastic. One day your son will be the Earl of Wiltshire and the Earl of Lincoln. It will be a position of unparalleled power in the kingdom. When Sybilla died, I imagine your father could not give it up.”

      “No, he couldn’t,” Nell said bitterly. “And I don’t care much about dynasties.” She glanced up at him. He was looking straight ahead. His profile was cleanly cut, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He really was extraordinarily good looking.

      “You would care if you had lived in the world,” he said. They passed the mews, where the earl’s falcons were housed. The head falconer was standing in front of it with a bird perched on his wrist. He tugged at his fore-lock as Nell and Roger went by.

      “Do you want this marriage?” she asked directly.

      “Yes,” he replied quietly. “My grandfather says it is a great opportunity for our house, and I agree. It is a great opportunity for both our houses, Nell.”

      They walked in silence for a few paces.

      In two days time I will be married to this man, Nell thought. A panicky feeling tightened her chest and her stomach. I will have to go with him back to his castle.

      They turned the corner of the inner wall and saw several small fenced-in enclosures where horses were turned out. “Here are the stables,” Roger said, sounding relieved.

      They walked up to the wooden building that was built against the stone outer wall of the bailey. It was a large structure that held the horses of forty knights. The smell of manure hung in the warm summer air. Two grooms were carrying water buckets from the well and Roger called to them, “Find me the head groom. We are here to see Earl Raoul’s horses.”

      “Yes, my lord.” The grooms carried the water into the stable building and shortly thereafter a thin, red-haired man dressed in a plain brown tunic and cross-gartered leggings came out and hastened to join them.

      Roger said, “I am