Chapter XXVIII
Nottingham, September 15th, 1194
" How do I look?"
Rebelle's question detained a strangely uncertain tone. Violet smiled at her. "You're gorgeous. Drastan's going to gawk."
Mary had just finished dressing the bride's hair and had left the two cousins alone. Rebelle touched her curls.
"You say?" he insisted, unable to hide her anxiety.
"You're the most beautiful bride in all Nottingham County", Violet assured her, handing her the gold necklace set with agate stones that William had given her as a wedding present. Rebelle pushed aside her long dark hair, allowing her cousin to tie the jewel around her neck.
"I'm not used to all these frills", she complained. The rare times Rebelle donned women's wear, she tended to choose very simple clothes, while her wedding gown had intricate golden embroideries on the bodice. The dress was dark blue, the colour of the Virgin as the bride was supposed to be an untouched maiden, but it wasn't her case, because dark blue and gold were the colours of the House of Rivendale.
"Come on, you can endure it for a few hours", Violet said firmly.
"I can't wait to take everything off", the bride grumbled.
"Drastan will surely help you very gladly, tonight…"
The tone of naughty amusement her cousin was using made Rebelle laugh.
"You're right", she admitted, then she pulled up her skirt. "Anyway, I didn't renounce neither my breeches, nor my knife", she added, baring herself up to her thighs to show where she had tied the scabbard with the small weapon and confirming what she had said some time ago to her cousin.
Violet sighed, feigning exasperation. "You're incorrigible, little cousin!"
The exchange had partially dissolved the bride's nervousness, and she was now feeling a little calmer.
As Rivendale would become the spouses' home – it already was, but of course, by convention everyone pretended it wasn't – they had decided that Rebelle would spend the night before the wedding at Chetwood. Drastan would sleep at Nottingham Castle, from where he would come with Guy, his best man, to sign the marriage contract before the notary, exactly as it had been for Violet a few months earlier. The wedding procession would then start from Chetwood to head for Rivendale, where Brother Tuck was awaiting the couple to impart the Church's blessing onto the nuptials. The wedding banquet would then take place – in the open, as it was a mild season – with not many attendants, because Rebelle and Drastan had chosen to keep things simple, to the point there wouldn't even be a dancing.
Violet had been two hours ahead her husband and the groom to keep company to her cousin, helping her to dress up and offering her moral support as Rebelle had done with her a few months ago. Violet thought back at that day, recalling how nervous she had been – no, she had been frightened by what she expected would come at night. Never would she imagine how it had ended up instead…
"Let's go grabbing some food", she exhorted her cousin. "I didn't break my fast at the castle and now I'm starving."
"I too am starving", Rebelle admitted. Unlike Violet, nervousness gave her an appetite instead of killing it. They went downstairs to the kitchen, where Maud gave them bread, butter, honey and porridge, as well as lukewarm milk.
They then returned to Rebelle's bedchamber, waiting for the groom and his best man to show up. Unable to stay still, Rebelle kept pacing back and forth the whole time, constantly looking out of the window. Her anxiety was beginning to affect Violet too and at a certain point, the latter opened her mouth to invite her cousin to sit and calm down, but right then Rebelle jumped.
"Robin and Marian are here!" she announced.
The Earl and Countess of Huntingdon were the sole guests other than the directly involved people. They had come with a carriage out of regard of Marian's state, not halfway through her fifth month of pregnancy.
Robin joined William in the great hall, while Marian came upstairs to Rebelle's.
"So, how's the bride doing?" she asked smiling.
"As nervous as a cat" Violet answered laughing.
"Indeed", Rebelle admitted with a sigh. "I don't understand why I'm so agitated", she then muttered. "I wish with all my heart to marry Drastan, I couldn't wait this moment to arrive, and now I'm tense like a bowstring. Shouldn't I just be happy?"
"You're just impatient", her cousin soothed her. "Come on, Drastan will be here soon and then at last you'll become his wife."
"Aye", the warrior maiden smiled, then she looked at Marian, whose bulging belly was well visible under her gown. "So, did you and Robin choose the names?"
The last time they had met, at Nottingham's twice-weekly market – before Violet's misadventure with the Black Knights – the young countess had told them that she and her husband were very undecided.
"Aye, in the end we opted for Richard if 'tis a boy, in honour of our king, and if 'tis a girl, we'll name her Meliora, like my maternal grandmother."
"Both beautiful names", Violet declared. "How's your pregnancy going? Your morning sickness ceased?"
Marian had been spared this indisposition during the first trimester, when it's most common, hut she had started manifesting it a couple of weeks earlier. Violet had advised her to eat little and often, light snacks every two hours instead of three meals a day, and to drink frequently in small sips an herbal tea with peppermint, fennel seeds and liquorice.
"'Tis almost gone, thanks to your advice", the mother-to-be assured her.
Rebelle had resumed her pacing around the room and looking out of the window, but at least Violet was now distracted by Marian's presence and wasn't as much bothered as before.
Less than ten minutes later, the bride saw the notary coming.
"Look, Harper's here!" she announced.
Of course, he preceded the groom and his best man, to be ready with the contract, which signing would make the marriage legally valid. Mary went and opened the door for him, then she walked him to the great hall where William was waiting for him. The Knight of Chetwood was Rebelle's legal guardian and therefore he would act to all effects as the father of the bride.
With the wedding, Rebelle's estate would formally become her husband's property. Drastan, like Guy, would keep his own family name, but his children would take the mother's. Anyway, as Drastan was a younger son, it didn't make much sense for his children to bear the name of a place they would never inherit and much likely even never see.
A few minutes later Rebelle, still on sentry duty at the window, was the first to catch sight of Drastan and Guy's arrival.
"They're here!" she cried, in her voice a shrill tone that showed her great excitement. She moved to get out of the bedchamber, but Violet stopped her. "Wait, where are you going? 'Tis not the moment to go downstairs yet. We must wait that everything's ready, and then Mary will call us."
Like Violet, Rebelle had decided not to be taken to the groom, but to go to him on her own, for the same reason as her cousin: she was the one who had chosen Drastan as her husband, not someone else who had suggested him to her or, worse, laid him on her. This was her way to affirm it.
Hearing Violet's words, the bride froze in the middle of the room.
"You're right", she sighed, then she resumed pacing back and forth.
"You're going to wear out the floor", Marian observed. Rebelle was about to snap, but she realised that her friend has spoken out of sympathy. The bride laughed nervously. "You're right, but I simply cannot stay still!"
At last, a few minutes later Mary knocked at the door to notify that time had come to walk downstairs. Consequently, Violet and Marian preceded Rebelle into the great hall. Marian joined Robin as Violet positioned herself next to Harper, in front of Guy. She and her husband exchanged a smile, then they both turned towards the door, waiting for the bride.
As he had done at Violet's wedding, Jack Knowles was acting again as the porter. Seeing that everyone was ready, he opened the door and let Rebelle in.
Drastan, a few steps away from Harper, his best man and the matron of honour, was unusually pale and stared at the threshold holding his breath. He was elegantly dressed with a white shirt of the finest linen and a sleeveless tunic of velvet the colour of hazelnut, dark brown breeches and knee-high boots of quality calf leather. When Rebelle appeared on the doorway, his heart leaped in his chest. She was simply gorgeous.
Rebelle immediately looked for her groom and, seeing he was gawking at her – exactly like Violet had predicted – she addressed him a bright smile. Drastan felt his head spinning as if he was tipsy. He straightened his back, returning Rebelle's smile, and took a deep breath to calm down his heart, which was somersaulting in his chest.
Rebelle felt her knees wobbling and halted for a moment on the threshold, forcing herself to relax. By all the saints in paradise, she wasn't about to confront an adversary in a duel, she was about to marry the man she loved with her all her heart! Appealing to all of her fierce determination as a warrior-maiden, she moved and began advancing, more marching than walking, until she joined Drastan. He offered her his hand, she took it, and together they moved the last few steps toward Harper.
The notary read the marriage contract aloud, informing the bride and groom about their reciprocal rights and duties and entrusting Rivendale to Drastan of Greenmere's care, and then he asked them to confirm that they were joining into marriage out of their free will. After their positive answers, the bride and groom exchanged the rings and the ritual handshake, and Harper declared them formally husband and wife. Keeping his bride's hand into his, Drastan drew her to him and, smiling, brushed her lips with a light kiss, but she threw her other arm around his neck and pressed her lips harder against his. When she withdrew, she addressed him an impish smile that had him grinning. His Rebelle had always to do things her way!
"Please sign here", the notary said, showing a spot on the parchment. Drastan took the quill and appended his name at the end of the document, and Rebelle did likewise – nearly writing Rebelle instead of Isabelle – then Violet and Guy came forward to sign in turn in their quality of best man and matron of honour, as bride and groom kept holding their hands and looking amorously into each other's eyes.
Watching them, William recalled his own wedding day and smiled, happy that his niece had found a man to love like his Adèle had found him.
After congratulating the bride and groom, they had a first toast with the dry cider that Rebelle liked so much. The peasants would celebrate with a rich banquet the second wedding in less than two months and they were definitely enthusiastic. Then, the party left Chetwood and headed for Rivendale, Rebelle, Drastan, Violet and Guy riding their horses, as well as William, followed by Robin and Marian on their carriage. With them went Harry, now head of the Chetwood guards, and two armigers.
In Rebelle's estate, dozens of banners with the colours of the bride and the groom – gold and dark blue for her, light blue and green for him – decorated the mansion, the chapel and every visible building. The inhabitants welcomed the small party with jubilant shouts and applauses, lining up on both sides of the path leading to the small church, in front of which Brother Tuck was waiting for them in his best habit, a broad smile on his brown face. He had met Rebelle at Nottingham Castle, where she often came to see her cousin the baroness, and he had liked the warrior-maiden at once, recognising her as a kindred spirit. As he esteemed Drastan too, who he thought immediately to be a reliable man, deeply loyal to his sire, Tuck had been very glad to accept to impart the blessing onto these nuptials.
Drastan got off his horse first and approached Rebelle's Friesian. The bride, not much used to have someone helping her dismounting, rose onto the left stirrup and passed her right leg over Blackfire's back before realising that her groom was there to assist her. At this point, Drastan opened his arms laughing.
"Jump, my love!" he invited her. Laughing in turn, Rebelle did as suggested, throwing herself into her husband's arms. He took advantage of the situation and gave her a less chaste kiss than the one they had exchanged in Chetwood. She didn't complain at all and returned it, among the peasants' enthusiastic shrieks.
They entered the chapel, walking solemnly as it was suitable to a couple of nobles. This required a certain amount of effort from Rebelle's part, as she was much more used to march.
Tuck proceeded with the blessing, at the end of which the bride and groom exchanged a light kiss.
W hen the simple ceremony was over, everyone headed for the pavilion that had been set up at the back of the manor, where the wedding banquet would take place. All inhabitants of Rivendale had been invited to attend to it. The bride and groom's table, where the best man and the matron of honour would be seated too, and the table for William, Robin, Marian and Tuck, were covered with white embroidered cloths and precious tableware in gold, silver and blown glass, and the chairs had been stuffed with cushions for the guests' comfort. The tables for the peasants where instead simple wooden planks on trestles with benches, set with wooden dishes and beakers.
When everyone was seated, the Table Master received from the bride the signal to begin and so he signalled in turn to the servants, who began bringing the first course to the table, a cabbage and leek soup, seasoned with coriander. Then came a tasty deer stew with carrots, followed by grilled pike with a mixture of dried herbs that was a secret recipe of Roger, Rivendale Hall's cook. Then came the main course, roasted boar with boiled cauliflower fried in butter, golden and crispy on the outside. In between courses, guests munched at fruits – apples, pears, grapes, cranberries, blueberries, plums and prunes – taking them from the small baskets on the table. In the meantime, jugglers, acrobats and singers performed their art in the free space in front of the bride and groom's table. Then they had pastries with dates and figs, and finally came cheese with honey. As drinks, they could choose among red and white wine, cider, beer and fresh spring water aromatised with blueberry juice.
They ate and drank copiously for the best part of the afternoon, with the Rivendale peasants keeping shouting toasts to the bride and groom. Violet recalled her own wedding banquet, down to just seven people because for her, the wedding had been only a duty, though she had personally chosen her groom, and therefore she had had no desire for great celebrations. However, the memory didn't bother her, considering how things had developed between her and her husband.
The shadows of the waning day were long when the last course – a cake with pears and sweet cream – was finished. At this point, it was time for the women to come and take the bride to the nuptial chamber. Violet beckoned Marian and both rose. Mawa too came, accompanied by one of the youngest maidservants, the sixteen-years-old Rose.
Invited by the four women, Rebelle rose, cast a glance full of promises – not even that much secretly – to her groom and then walked away.
"Well, Drastan", Guy grinned, remembering perfectly how his friend had acted on his wedding. "Let's toast to your beautiful bride…"
He filled up Drastan's goblet, but the fair-headed knight laughed.
"You won't get me drunk, old chap!" he cried. "I wasn't able to do it with you, you won't be able to do it with me!" he leaned forward to his best man's ear. "I want to be perfectly sober to enjoy my bride, if you know what I mean…"
Guy smirked, nodding, and took a sip from his goblet. He too had reasoned this way and he wouldn't certainly prevent his friend to do likewise.
The peasants however tried to get the groom at least tipsy, calling for more toasts, to which Drastan answered pretending to drink and instead just wetting his lips.
After the first two toasts, Drastan lifted his cup to his bride's uncle.
"Sir William", he said in a loud voice. "You already know that I love your niece with all my heart. I promise you that I'll do anything to make her happy, at any cost."
William smiled.
"I'm sure of this, Drastan", he countered, then he grinned. "However, 'tis not to me you have to commit yourself, but to Rebelle. I'm sure that, should you not behave the right way with her, she won't hesitate a bit to let you know loud and clear."
Drastan laughed. "I have no doubts about this!"
Robin laughed in turn.
"A wife with a strong character guarantees a lively marriage", he asserted. "You will say many things about your conjugal life, Sir Drastan, except 'tis boring, and I toast to this!"
All those who heard him rose their beaker or goblet in response, and even those who hadn't heard him did likewise, because every excuse was good to have a draught.
Then, Robin sobered.
"One more thing I'm going tell you, Sir Drastan", he added. "A woman with a strong character doesn't double, but triples a man's strength, and that of the family she's going to start with him. You, me, and Gisborne as well, we are all lucky men."
"I agree", William declared, who not so long ago had expressed the same opinion. "And I number myself among the lucky men. Let's toast to our brides!"
Again, everyone joined in and drank.
After an amount of time he judged suitable, Drastan rose.
"I'm going to join my bride", he announced, though there was no need. Guy rose in turn to fulfil his duty as best man, seeing the groom to the nuptial chamber.
Robin too rose, looking forward to the usual foul-mouthed puns going with this moment, but to his great disappointment, Drastan declined firmly.
"You cannot escape the custom, Sir Drastan!" Robin protested. "Gisborne, tell him!"
He realised he had once more used the habitual name he gave to his now ex-adversary, instead of his title, but Guy didn't seem to mind.
"I cannot, Locksley", he in fact replied coolly. "If you remember well, at my wedding I too didn't want any escort. Thus, I think I'm in no position to force Drastan."
Robin made a frustrated face, grumbled and sat again, rising William's benevolent mirth.
"See you Monday at the castle", Guy then said, talking to the groom with a grin. Recalling what Drastan had told him, he added. "Try not overdoing or tomorrow you'll walk crooked because of back pain…"
Recognising his own pun, the blond knight burst into laughter and, shaking his head, he walked away.
Guy was now alone at the table. Noting it, William exhorted Robin and Tuck to take their chairs and sit with the baron, waiting for Violet and Marian to return. As for him, William went and seated himself next to his son-in-law, onto the chair where Drastan had been previously sitting.
Soon enough, Marian returned. Robin invited his wife to sit next to him, onto the chair he had fetched for her. Seeing Guy's quizzical gaze, Marian smiled.
"Violet stopped briefly by the kitchen", she said. "She's coming right up."
A few minutes later, the Baroness of Nottingham joined her husband, bringing a mug for her father. She had an herbal tea prepared for him earlier, knowing William's difficulties to digest meat. The elderly knight thanked her, a little moved by her thoughtfulness. Since his daughter had left Chetwood, he felt a little lonely, and now that Rebelle too had definitively left his house, the feeling had worsened, despite the loving care of the servants. However, he was aware that things had to work this way, and he had accepted it.
Violet sat again next to Guy.
"How's Rebelle?" William enquired, looking at his daughter. "She's impatient to be with her husband, I think?"
His knowing tone made Violet suspicious.
"Ummm… aye, I'd say so", she answered warily.
"You don't think I didn't notice that she and Drastan have already widely enjoyed the joys of married life, do you?" William grinned.
Violet was speechless, because she was positive that Rebelle had been very careful in her nightly escapades with Drastan, during the last few months. Nor her father had ever implied he was aware of their affair.
"Oh, she's been very discreet", William assured his daughter, guessing her thoughts. "But after some time, I recognised certain subtle changes in her behaviour, and in Drastan's", he grinned. "I'm not blind, my dearest daughter, and 'tis unlikely that two people, healthy and in love as they are, are capable to resist temptation. Actually, your mother and I too didn't resist, though it happened only a few weeks before our wedding…"
Violet blushed. Her mother had told her this detail before she wedded Roganton, but naturally, it had been a woman-to-woman thing, and now Violet felt a little uncomfortable that her father was telling her. Those were topics that usually a male parent didn't bring up with his female offspring, especially in the presence of a man of the cloth. Actually, Brother Tuck was just a short distance away and had heard very clearly.
Seeing the young baroness' embarrassed glance, the monk smiled at her in a reassuring way.
"Of course, the Church does disapprove the carnal knowledge before marriage", he said serenely. "However, as I haven't always been a monk, I know perfectly that this happens very often. What matters is that the involved man and women later join in the sacred bond of marriage, exactly as Lady Isabelle and Sir Drastan just did."
"I think that those who deny carnal desire are very hypocrite", Guy affirmed straightaway. He liked Tuck, but this didn't prevent him to tease him often regarding what he thought the moralistic phonies of the Church, and the ex-soldier never backed down, also because for most things he felt the same way as Guy.
"In fact, St. Paul wrote that 'tis better to marry than burn", the friar replied, quoting the first letter of the saint to the Corinthians. "Nobody denies carnal desire, but the Church exhorts to contain it into marriage."
"However, there are men of the cloth who don't follow this exhortation and let themselves be tempted by the flesh", Robin observed, having met several of the kind.
Tuck nodded.
"Unfortunately 'tis true", he admitted, unperturbed. "But 'tis a matter of conscience and God won't fail to judge them basing on this too, when their time comes."
"And all too often, they're the ones thundering against the other's dissoluteness", William intervened, shaking his head in reproach.
"Hypocrites, as I said before", Guy concluded in a fierce tone.
"I agree", Tuck said placidly.
Violet smiled secretly, amused. The discussions between her husband and the friar always ended in a tie.
"The party's almost over", she observed, rising. "Mawa will take care that everything is cleaned up and put back, so we're free to go home."
"Very well", Guy said, rising in turn. "Sir William, shall we go back to Chetwood with you? 'Tis not a long detour, for us."
"Nay, thank you", the elderly gentleman answered. "I have my escort", he reminded them, referring to Harry and the other two guards.
Robin and Marian took their leave, then they got into the carriage and headed to Locksley with their escort. Violet, Guy and William took the road to Nottingham, from which at a certain point the path to Chetwood branched.
As they rode on side by side, William turned to his daughter and son-in-law.
"Today I noticed you're going along very well, you two", he said. "I'd say that affection has developed between you. Am I wrong?"
Violet smiled.
"You're not wrong, father", she confirmed. "Actually, 'tis more than affection", she cast a loving glance to her husband. "We found out we love each other, like you and mother."
"Wonderful!" William cried, happy with the news. He couldn't have wished for a better outcome, as both his daughter and his niece had made a love match, something pretty rare for nobility. "May I hope I'll become a grandfather soon?"
Violet felt her ears burning and Guy cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable because it is never an easy task speaking to a man about the fact you're bedding his daughter, even in the sacred bond of marriage.
"Let's say we're working on it", be muttered. William grinned, amused by his son-in-law attitude. Never had he seen Guy of Gisborne embarrassed. Goodness, how much he had changed, since the wicked Vaisey had died!
"Very well", he said, without pushing it further.
Soon enough, they arrived at the fork that on one side led to Chetwood and on the other to Nottingham. Here, they took their leave from one another, each heading home with their own guards.