stirring in his blood.
“ She is young and lovely,” he heard himself say. “ She will make a man a good bride.”
“ Aye, and I will see that matter done after you and Edwina are wed. A horn of good ale, lad, and a toast to the spring and your wedding.”
“ Aye,” Conan said with a smile, taking the proffered cup and imitating Medwin, though a little less enthusiastically. “ To the spring -- and the wedding.”
***
With the bloom of the roses and lilies, the blossoms of the pear and apple trees, Phalen saw the arrival of many guests: t he prestigious lords and ladies who would witness the wedding of Sir Conan and Lady Edwina.
Though Medwin’s hall was not small and could accommo date many for meals and revelry, trestle tables were set in the gardens, for Phalen would flaunt the flowers and blooming fruit trees that filled the air with a soft romantic scent.
About the village, seeds were sown for lettuce, melons, cresses, beets and onions. The humble folk no longer hid within the walls of their huts, but came out to hang the wash and weed their gardens, lingering for long periods over these tasks to converse with their neighbors. Bakers pulled their carts about the streets, and washwomen hummed as they hefted their heavy baskets from tub to line.
Within the hamlet the people chattered about the upcom ing wedding, for the simple serfs were as enchanted by this union as the lordly guests were. Tales of Sir Conan’s feats in battle were well known, and his most recent occupation of Stoddard was one of the favorite stories. His choice of bride, the frail and genteel lady of Phalen, pleased one and all. Gossip surrounding the clothes sewn for Edwina and the gems the family would gift her with were as important as Conan’s technique in wresting Stoddard Keep from the usurper’s hands. Everywhere, from castle to town, there was buzzing over this noble couple. Many times Chandra wanted to cover her ears with her hands and run screaming from their voices.
Chandra’s birthday was over and she had passed four and ten. Had there not been so much ado over Edwina’s wedding, more notice might have been taken of the fuller breasts and long slender legs that appeared on this young maiden. Some voices broke from the preoccupation with the wedding to remark, as Chandra passed, that she had locked herself away within the keep for the winter and emerged a woman. But Chandra heard none of that. She heard only the praises attesting to Edwina’s petite beauty and her likeness to their beloved Millicent.
Within the great walls of a nobleman’s castle there is no protection from the realities of life. Chandra had known about the coupling of a man and woman for many years. She had already given assistance to women in childbirth. Most of her childhood companions were already wed to her father’s men-at-arms or bowmen or village farmers and apprentices.
While she envied them their round bellies, they envied the delicacy of decision over the marriage contract of a nobly born woman.
Cordell was the prize Chandra would dangle before her suitors. It was not nearly as rich as Phalen. It had belonged to Millicent and to Millicent’s mother, managed by women for many years. Medwin had given his wife a free hand to manage her dower lands, and when Chandra married, the contract would be the same.
Chandra had been reared to manage Cordell, for it had been decided long ago that Phalen would be Edwina’s, Laine would take money as her dowry to the church, and Cordell would belong to Chandra. She knew every detail of the estate by heart. It was not a rich castle or wealthy village and had been maintained more as a retreat than a fortress. There was ample protection, but Cordell did not house a grand army.
Early in her youth when she would see Conan at celebra tions during days of feasting and hunting, she had seen herself one day being his bride. He would have rich holdings, his own men-at-arms and stout walls, and Cordell would
“ She is young and lovely,” he heard himself say. “ She will make a man a good bride.”
“ Aye, and I will see that matter done after you and Edwina are wed. A horn of good ale, lad, and a toast to the spring and your wedding.”
“ Aye,” Conan said with a smile, taking the proffered cup and imitating Medwin, though a little less enthusiastically. “ To the spring -- and the wedding.”
***
With the bloom of the roses and lilies, the blossoms of the pear and apple trees, Phalen saw the arrival of many guests: t he prestigious lords and ladies who would witness the wedding of Sir Conan and Lady Edwina.
Though Medwin’s hall was not small and could accommo date many for meals and revelry, trestle tables were set in the gardens, for Phalen would flaunt the flowers and blooming fruit trees that filled the air with a soft romantic scent.
About the village, seeds were sown for lettuce, melons, cresses, beets and onions. The humble folk no longer hid within the walls of their huts, but came out to hang the wash and weed their gardens, lingering for long periods over these tasks to converse with their neighbors. Bakers pulled their carts about the streets, and washwomen hummed as they hefted their heavy baskets from tub to line.
Within the hamlet the people chattered about the upcom ing wedding, for the simple serfs were as enchanted by this union as the lordly guests were. Tales of Sir Conan’s feats in battle were well known, and his most recent occupation of Stoddard was one of the favorite stories. His choice of bride, the frail and genteel lady of Phalen, pleased one and all. Gossip surrounding the clothes sewn for Edwina and the gems the family would gift her with were as important as Conan’s technique in wresting Stoddard Keep from the usurper’s hands. Everywhere, from castle to town, there was buzzing over this noble couple. Many times Chandra wanted to cover her ears with her hands and run screaming from their voices.
Chandra’s birthday was over and she had passed four and ten. Had there not been so much ado over Edwina’s wedding, more notice might have been taken of the fuller breasts and long slender legs that appeared on this young maiden. Some voices broke from the preoccupation with the wedding to remark, as Chandra passed, that she had locked herself away within the keep for the winter and emerged a woman. But Chandra heard none of that. She heard only the praises attesting to Edwina’s petite beauty and her likeness to their beloved Millicent.
Within the great walls of a nobleman’s castle there is no protection from the realities of life. Chandra had known about the coupling of a man and woman for many years. She had already given assistance to women in childbirth. Most of her childhood companions were already wed to her father’s men-at-arms or bowmen or village farmers and apprentices.
While she envied them their round bellies, they envied the delicacy of decision over the marriage contract of a nobly born woman.
Cordell was the prize Chandra would dangle before her suitors. It was not nearly as rich as Phalen. It had belonged to Millicent and to Millicent’s mother, managed by women for many years. Medwin had given his wife a free hand to manage her dower lands, and when Chandra married, the contract would be the same.
Chandra had been reared to manage Cordell, for it had been decided long ago that Phalen would be Edwina’s, Laine would take money as her dowry to the church, and Cordell would belong to Chandra. She knew every detail of the estate by heart. It was not a rich castle or wealthy village and had been maintained more as a retreat than a fortress. There was ample protection, but Cordell did not house a grand army.
Early in her youth when she would see Conan at celebra tions during days of feasting and hunting, she had seen herself one day being his bride. He would have rich holdings, his own men-at-arms and stout walls, and Cordell would
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