Tag: Wulfrun

Bound by His Oath, Episode 15

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Story Content Notes: Coerced consent, violence, patriarchal societies with deeply ingrained sexism (doubly so for the Norns), a woman with her own ideas, and some on-screen sex.

When Wulfrun, the housekeeper, learned that Mildthryth had been alone in her chambers with Lord Reimund and his knights she was quietly horrified. First, of course, that her lady had been alone with four men. While there had never been any hint of impropriety – no hint of sexual impropriety, at least – in Lady Mildthryth’s behavior, tongues would wag. And with the king arriving in the next weeks no less! Perhaps more importantly, that the Nornish lord and his Nornish knights who had so recently tried to conquer the keep were alone with Wulfrun’s friend and lady.

Wulfrun had formed a reasonably good opinion of Lord Reimund since the wedding. But she would not soon forget or forgive what he had meant to do to her lady. So without saying anything to Lady Mildthryth, Wulfrun had a quiet word with servants she most trusted.

The next day, Sir Damian accompanied Lord Reimund into Mildthryth’s quarters for what had become their nightly conference. Not one, but two maids remained in the lady’s rooms until after Sir Damian left. They were there again two days later when Sir John joined the lord and lady for a private breakfast.

Mildthryth decided to be amused by Wulfrun’s caution. Reimund, after thinking about it, sought Wulfrun out and thanked her for her concern for Lady Mildthryth’s well being. If her concerns were insulting – and they were – he had had a great deal of practice in ignoring insults of late. And if ignoring this insult gained him some trust from one of the most important people in the keep, so much the better.

A few months ago, it would not have occurred to Reimund to view a servant woman as one of the most important people in the keep. Nornish keeps didn’t have housekeepers. But Nornish ladies weren’t as… involved in the running of the keep as Lady Mildryth was. The keep and everything in it not directly involved in defense was, to the lady and her fellow Anglish, the lady’s domain. Within that domain, Wulfrun ran their actual household – ensuring meals were served on time, laundry was done, rushes were changed, and everything else that made the living areas of the keep… livable.

Reimund was not inclined to find his quarters in disrepair and meals cold because he slighted the woman who ensured they weren’t.

Only Wulfrun said or did anything, but many people noted that their lady was spending more time with the Nornish knights. Wulfrun was likely overcautious. Overall, the Anglish of the keep thought it well. Lady Mildthryth knew how to win a person’s loyalty – didn’t they know it! If she could win the loyalty of these knights, then everyone could trust them and the keep would be stronger for it.

And if Lord Reimund seemed ill-tempered, who could blame him with the conqueror descending on him and the Baron’s not-so-subtle threat?

Still, Lord Reimund wasn’t a fool, and Lady Mildthryth was a gift from the Ancestors themselves. They would find a way to outsmart the conqueror and they could finally get on with their lives.

Mildthryth did not have her people’s confidence. She did not forget Reimund’s words – “…do not mock me so. Better to say I am your servant. Or your dog.” Her husband had regained some of his surety now that he knew his friends stood by him, but there was something… something that lurked behind his pained words that day.

She could ask him. He would not, she was sure, refuse her. Not after their last… discussion. But she did not want to hurt him so again. Not if she could avoid it. Which had led her here, to the room Wulfrum had finally cleared for the Nornish knights.

Twice Mildthryth nearly turned away. Her mother would laugh to see her. Her grandfather cringe. A daughter of Dragma, hesitating! But somethings were more intimidating than a charge of Nornish calvary.

Finally, laughing at herself, she raised her hand and knocked.

Sir Damian answered the door to the knights’ quarters. “My lady?”

“I wish to speak with Sir John.”

The quiet knight stepped back from the door, allowing her entry.

Sir John was seated on a bench, mending a torn strap on his armor. He looked up as she entered and grimaced. “My lady witch.”

“John,” Sir Damian chided.

“No,” Mildthryth said. “That is precisely why it is Sir John I wish to speak with. He will tell me his truth where my husband and Sir Hereweald will give me courtly faces and you, Sir Damian, hide behind dignified silence.”

Sir John laughed. “You are right there, my lady witch.” He took a deep breath and let it out with a hiss. “So which of my lord’s secrets do you come to me for?”

Mildthryth smiled. “Actually, Sir John, I’m here for your secrets.”

He stilled and set down his work. “I have no secrets. As you rightly note, my lady, I am an open scroll.”

Something in that sent warning notes down Mildthryth’s spine, but she didn’t let the hint of threat deter her. “I suspect you have many secrets Sir John, but I expect the one I am after today you scarce consider a secret.

“Why do you hate me, Sir John? Why do you call me witch and burn with anger to see my husband kneel to me?”

Sir John growled. “I would have thought mockery beneath you, witch.”

Sir Damian shifted but stayed where he was.

“My lord said something painfully similar before I had him send for you the other day. You both are acting under a false assumption.”

“What would that be? That we are worthy of your mockery?”

Mildthryth laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Ancestors bless, Sir John, I swear you are a breath of fresh air after weeks of seeking answers from Nornish stone! You are almost as honestly expressive as a proper Dragma warrior.”

For the first time, he looked insulted. “My lord’s liege or not, call me a blighted barbarian again, and I’ll cry challenge for the insult.”

“I mean no insult Sir John, and I care nothing for your challenge. As you and my husband seem to have forgotten I am an Anglish lady and daughter and granddaughter of Dragma ‘barbarians’. Cry challenge on me and my mother will demand the right to be my champion and turn you into steaks.

“But that is not what I am here for. I am not Nornish, Sir John. I have no knowledge of your cursed ‘civilized’ ways. Until your darkened Conquerer tossed me to the wolves I could count on my hands the number of times I had seen Norns.

“So no, Sir John, I mean no mockery. I have not one star to guide me in this matter. Tell me, Sir John. Tell me why you hate me. Tell me why kneeling to me is a shame that is destroying my husband. Tell me what I need to know to save him.”

That’s coming straight to the point…

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Bound by His Oath, Ep 1
Bound by His Oath, Ep 14

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Bound by His Oath, Ep 16

Bound by His Oath, Episode 6

Jess MahlerLeave a comment

Story Content Notes: Coerced consent, violence, patriarchal societies with deeply ingrained sexism (doubly so for the Norns), a woman with her own ideas, and some on-screen sex.

The lord’s quarters were smaller than those of a proper castle. But what the modernized burg lacked in size, it more than made up for in comfort. Or at least that’s how it seemed to Reimund as he sat on the first bed he had seen in weeks.

The rooms had been cleaned recently, and the warrior had shown him the respect due to a lord.

Somehow, Reimund had not expected that. Had expected to return to the dungeon. It seemed the lady was correct about one thing – when she was ready, she moved like a lightning strike – leaving those in range stunned senseless and the landscape overturned.

He moved through the pair of rooms, feeling as if he was in a dream. It took another moment for him to notice the next shock the lady had left for him —

His things were here. Even his armor and weapons. Had she been that confident of his decision?

No. If he hadn’t given Lady Mildthryth the answer she wanted, he would have been returned to the dungeon and never known this. The ‘endless’ discussion was not wasted time. It was the preparation that made the lightning strike possible. And she would have prepared for either answer from him.

No, he wouldn’t have returned to the dungeon if he gave the wrong answer. He shuddered. Ruthless as she was, somewhere convenient there was a noose and a place to drop him from. She was ready to be done with her problem, one way or another. So done the lady would be.

The clothespress, when he opened it, held the few changes of clothing he had traveled with. Clean, and in at least one case, mended.

A knock at the door startled him out of his shock. “Come in,” he called, expecting one of the guards and still surprised they bothered to knock.

Instead, it was a woman, somewhat older than Mildthryth and well dressed, but not noble. She bowed briefly. “Milord. I am Wulfrun. I have been housekeeper here since before Lady Mildthryth’s father died. I came to introduce myself and make sure you have everything you need. The kitchen will be sending up a hot meal soon, and I thought perhaps a bath?”

A bath! Just the thought of it had his skin itching under the layers of dirt and sweat. “Yes, a bath would be good. Thank you, Wulfrun.”

“Of course, milord.” She seemed to hesitate a moment. “No disrespect milord, but we do hear that Norns do things differently – there’s a speaking tube in the corner that connects to the kitchen.”

“A speaking tube?” Reimund blinked and looked where the woman pointed. There was a tube of copper coming up out of the floor…

“Yes, milord. Just lift the lid and they’ll hear you in the kitchen. When you need anything, call down and someone will be up. There is another speaking tube in Lady Mildthryth’s quarters.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything else you need now, milord?”

Reimund blinked. There was something odd about her manner. She was more forward than he would have expected, but that might be Anglish custom. Their lady certainly wasn’t afraid to speak the unthinkable!

“I need to speak with my– with the knights who came with me. Can you arrange that?”

“Of course, milord. I understand Wigmar was to tell those in the barracks that you and milady have come to terms. I expect your knights will be seeking you out soon, but I’ll just make sure of it.”

Those in the barracks… “Please make sure that Wigmar sends Sir John to me as well.”

“Yes, milord.” Her eyes widened and her voice was full of curiosity. Apparently, John’s… indisposure was not widely known.

“Thank you.” She bowed and turned to leave.

And he realized why she had seemed nervous. “Actually, one last thing.” She stopped and turned back. This time he could see her fists clenching in her skirts. “Lady Mildthryth has obviously been happy with how her home was managed. I don’t expect I’ll be making any changes.”

Relief swept through her, clear in her sudden relaxation. She doesn’t know, he thought with sudden bitterness, that I had no power to change anything. All she knows is a new lord can set her out or overturn everything she did here.

“Thank you, milord.”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak past that bitterness, so he nodded and turned away. The door opened and closed behind him.

Mildthryth was still on the walk when Wulfrun, came looking for her sometime later. “Milord is settled, lady, and asked to speak to his knights.”

“Good. His folk?”

“As you suggested, most of them should do well enough in the barracks. It’ll need some cleaning and such, but it’ll be a relief for the girls to have something to turn their hands to other than endless weaving.”

Mildthryth snorted. She, too, would be happy to not see a loom for the next year or two.

“I wasn’t sure about the knights. We can put them together in the old reeves’ quarters.”

Prior to the conquest, Eorls like Mildryth’s father had overseen a hundred or more reeves, each responsible for a hundred families. They managed day-to-day administration of the Eorl’s region while the Eorls managed defense and collected the king’s taxes. Mildryth’s father had kept a room set aside to host the reeves who came to deliver their hundred’s taxes and report on any needs those families had. The Conqueror had gradually overturned the old ways, and the room had sat empty the last few years.

But as a gesture of trust, that room was off the same section of hall as the lord’s and lady’s quarters. Mildthryth and Wulfrun exchanged a glance and both grimaced.

“Otherwise I’m not sure we have anything available that would be considered suitable for their rank,” Wulfrun finished.

Mildthryth sighed. “For now, they can continue to stay in the barracks. We may need to rearrange how we handle rooming, but that is not something to be done without planning.”

Wulfrun smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “Of course, Mildthryth. Just as well, perhaps. With the reeves’ room so little used I fear it has developed some mildewing.”

“Well, we cannot insult the good knights with such poorly maintained quarters,” Mildthryth smiled back.

He was surprised that John arrived first. He would have expected Wigmar to push the limits of the soon-to-be lord’s command and leave John in the dungeon as long as possible. His arms, though, were still bound behind him.

Reimund found he couldn’t blame the Anglish – injured and half-blind as he was, John was tense and ready for a fight.

That was so… John.

“Stand down, Sir John,” he said. Then to the Anglish, “Release him.”

Wigmar immediately began untying John’s bonds, saying, “He’s your problem now, milord. If he becomes my problem again,” Wigmar looked up and met Reimund’s eyes with a death glare, “then I’ll take his head and be done with it.”

He finished pulling the ties off John without looking away. “You’re the best of a bad lot, milord, and so I told her. But never you forget that she is our lady.”

John, for a wonder, had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

“I understand,” Reimund answered the Anglish warrior. Wigmar nodded and left the room, leaving Reimund and John alone.

Reimund led John to the room’s one chair and made him sit. “What the hell were you thinking, John? I can’t believe that hard bastard didn’t kill you for putting hands on Lady Mildthryth.”

“He wanted to. She wouldn’t let him. She said… I’m sorry Reimund. Thought I’d gotten you killed breaking parole. But she was going to kill you anyway. Asked if I’d be willing to swear service to her after she killed you.”

“Damn it, John! You could have gotten everyone else killed…” Reimund caught himself and sighed. “Could have but didn’t. You, my impulsive, loyal, friend, may have been the saving of us.”

John gaped and Reimund found himself laughing. Somewhat hysterically.

“The lady gave me her terms, John. Terms for a marriage contract.”

Reimund’s laughter died completely at the memory of what those terms were.

John’s mouth dropped further. Stunned to silence for the first time since Reimund had known him. The lightning strike was still reverberating, it seemed.

“She is in a position to set terms as she pleases, and knows it. Her man – that one who just promised to take your head if you threaten his lady again – will continue to lead the warriors and training here.”

He waited until John picked his chin up and nodded. “There’s more, some that I’ll want to discuss with all of you, some that is… between she and I.”

John licked his swollen lips. “You trust her, Reimund? Granted, I don’t see how she could turn on you once she’s your wife, but… could she be playing you somehow? Promising you marriage to keep the King off her back while in practice keeping you a prisoner? She still rules until after the wedding.”

If only John knew – she had no reason to play him like that when he had given her his word. “No, John. I know your eyes are swollen shut, but you should be able to see something. These are the lord’s quarters. The housekeeper has already been by to make sure I’m not going to replace her. That’s my sword and halberd over there – moved here even before the lady gave me her terms.

“I don’t blame you for being suspicious. But Lady Mildthryth doesn’t need to play games with me. She already won that game. But it’s the king she’s really been playing against, and there she knows she can’t win. She’s told me as much. So she’ll risk giving me her wedding oath and hold what she can, rather than wait for the king to sweep her off the board.”

Wedding oath. Something about that…

Even with his swollen lip, John managed to grin. “So be it, then. I won’t be happy serving under that Anglish bastard, mind. But nothing would please me more than to see you take your proper rank–however it came to you–and to serve you as my lord.”

He slipped off the chair and onto his knees. “My lord, I am your man, heart and mind and blade. What do you wish of me?”

As he spoke, the door opened, and Damian and Hereweald entered – looking as stunned as John had a few moments earlier.

Reimund ignored them to rest a hand on John’s head, surprised and touched by the ancient oath he realized now he had never truly expected to hear.

“Rise Sir John, and go tell the armsmen they will soon have a new lady.”

“Yes, my lord,” John stood and limped past Damian and Hereweald to the door – still grinning

“And John? If you so much as raise a hand to my lady again I will string you up myself.”

John bowed, deeply. “I understand.”

Reimund turned to Damian and Hereweald, to answer the questions that were lurking in their eyes.

For John’s sake, and all his men, he would continue to kneel to Lady Mildthryth and wed her knowing he’d be all but cuckolding himself. Somehow he would endure. Wed her…

Wedding oath… as his wife, she would vow to obey him. Would that not supersede his word to her? Relief filled him, tinged with shame. It was not an honorable thing he contemplated. But right now he would happily live with that slight dishonor. And he allowed himself to grin as well as he waved his brothers-in-spirit over to explain to them what was happening.

So Reimund has a plan… How do you think that’s going to go for him?

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Bound by His Oath, Ep 5

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Bound by His Oath, Ep 7