Godric, the orphan child, would be her personal errand boy, not to mention a companion to her son John, who had already acclimated himself to his new home, and his new “sister” Larise. In fact, the three of them had quickly become fast friends, screeching with glee as they dashed through the keep, around the vast bailey and in the orchard with Prince barking happily at their heels. Because of the threat from Steven, they were heavily guarded at all times and never permitted beyond the inner castle walls or kitchen gardens.
The mood throughout the castle and surrounding keep seemed to lighten and expand under the influence of the children. Bertha grumbled, “The bloody buggers will no doubt curdle my fresh cream with their endless shrieking.” But even she could not help but smile as the trio scampered through her kitchen, coming to a skidding halt as they stopped to swipe manchet bread or a slice of cheese, then resumed their squealing excursion.
Eadyth had to ban them from her bedchamber when they teased Abdul until his squawking could be heard all the way to the bailey. And yet, the foolish bird actually seemed down-spirited when the children were not about.
Eirik’s retainers cursed the youngsters when they approached the exercise yards, but were seen on one occasion teaching them how to shoot an arrow straight and true into a moving target. In a way, Eadyth thought, the carefree children represented hope and rebirth for Ravenshire, which many had considered doomed to abandonment.
By the end of the week, the castle was clean and running efficiently. Eadyth would have liked to launch many castle projects, but could not until she knew more about Eirik’s financial situation. Having little to work with—no bright tapestries or fine furniture—she had to settle for clean.
Still, she envisioned a solar built next to the second-floor bedchambers for a family sitting area. And the timber chapel at the edge of the bailey, little more than a hovel, must be rebuilt. All the beds needed new linens and hangings. The now rustless battle weapons hanging from the walls had been polished to a fine sheen, but the few tapestries and banners which lined the walls drooped threadbare with age and neglect. The kitchen sorely lacked utensils—knives, spoons, ladles, even cauldrons. Apparently much had been pilfered over the years of Eirik’s absence. And fabric must be purchased to sew new clothing for the servants, as well as for Eirik and his retainers.
When she had done all she could inside, Eadyth rode outside the keep with Wilfrid. It was not as pleasant an experience as it could have been, since she had to continue her disguise—hunching her shoulders, maneuvering her head-rail, screeching her voice, cackling occasionally. She maintained her tiresome facade around all the servants, as well.
She saw an odd expression on Wilfrid’s face occasionally when he did not think she noticed. It would not do for her husband’s retainers to discover her duplicity before she had a chance to end this foolish masquerade on Eirik’s return.
As they rode the vast estate, handing out seed to the free cotters who had begun to return, they discussed hopes for a bountiful spring crop of oats and barley.
“The farmland is rich,” Wilfrid commented. “I followed your suggestion for plowing in narrow strips of three sections—the first for the spring sowing taking place now, the next for the fall crop of winter wheat, and the third to lie fallow for one year.”
“And you will allow the few cattle left at Ravenshire to graze the fallow fields and the stubble after harvesting the spring crops?”
“Yea, my lady. You have reminded me three times now.”
Eadyth smiled at Wilfrid’s mild rebuke. “I do have a tendency to nag betimes.”
Wilfrid rolled his eyes heavenward.
“The cotters’ huts are in deplorable condition,” Eadyth complained as they left the fields and traveled through the village.
Wilfrid shrugged. “The castle defenses and the planting come first.”
Eadyth started to protest, then closed her lips. As before, she did not know if Eirik had the funds to undertake such renovations.
Eadyth was particularly saddened to see that the estate once known for its fine Yorkshire wool was now devoid of any sheep. “Do you think Eirik would object to our starting a new fold of sheep?” she asked tentatively. At Wilfrid’s look of exasperation over all her plans, Eadyth added, “Of course, ‘twould be a small fold at first.”