Chapter 16

A great commotion in the room stirred Gisla to wakefulness. She cracked her eyes to see daylight flooding through her window. A moment ago there seemed to be so much movement around her she wondered if a bird had become trapped in her room. The sound of the door handle turning caught her attention. Perhaps she had only been hearing the sounds of her women preparing to wake her. She closed her eyes again wishing to go back to sleep. She should not have stayed up so late, today would be another eventful day. So many tasks to finish, so many duties to attend.

"What is this?" Eleanor suddenly asked.

Gisla's eyes snapped open and she turned her head to see what Eleanor was holding. It seemed to be a kind of white cloth with gold embroidery. Suddenly the realization of what it was struck her. It was a man's tunic. A thousand emotions seemed to fill Gisla all at once. There was only one way that something like that could have ended up on her floor, and that was if he visitor had discarded it in the night.

She jerked herself into an upright position. "Eleanor, pass that here," she said with urgency.

Confusion covered the face of the maid, but she willingly obeyed her mistress. However, it was too late. Another figure entered the room. It was the matron and her gray eyes were honed on the fabric in the maid's hand.

"What is that you are giving her," She asked in a stern voice, as if she already knew.


Rollo heard a knock at the door to his room, which surprised him. He was accustom to being ignored during the morning. He had made it quite clear some time ago that he was capable of arriving at breakfast on his own, and that he did not wish for any assistance in dressing what so ever.

He rummaged through his wardrobe to find another tunic and outer robe to wear. Once he had found what he was looking for he dressed, and opened the door. To his great surprise he found Count Odo waiting outside.

The fat man forced a smile upon his face and then began to speak in an overly happy and slow fashion, "Good morning Duke Rollo, I am sorry to disturb you at this early hour, but you must come with me."

Rollo made no movement as he tried to think of a reason his presence would be required.

Count Odo's face fell and he tried again, "You…must…come…with…me." He waved his hand towards himself as if beckoning a dog or small child.

Rollo decided to keep up his ruse, and let a large smile cover his face. "Ahh…come," he said giving a nod.

Odo nodded with enthusiasm, "Yes, come." He then motioned for Rollo to follow.

Rollo did his best to mask the unease he was feeling as he followed Odo. He could not help but feel some nervousness, it had not escaped him that the Frankish court was treacherous and that he was still thought of as a threat by many. He had been careful though, hadn't her? Just a few days ago he had hinted that he had plans for what to do with the marshes that surrounded the first two towers. This was his method of keeping himself useful, he would only tell the Frankish his plan one small piece at a time.

Soon Rollo's fears abated as he realized he was being led down the familiar corridors that led to Abbot Lupus' teaching room. Rollo was pleased to see that the abbot was there when he walked through the doors. But the abbot did not seem to be in his usual congenial mood.

Odo closed the door behind him and then looked between the two men before saying, "Do you wish to tell him, or should I?"

Lupus considered this for a moment, and then answered, "I think it would be best if I told him."

"And you are certain you can…make him understand?"

"Yes, I am certain. You may leave us."


Gisla stood in the middle of the empty throne room waiting for her father to enter. Never in her life had she ever found herself in such a position. Her father had always spoken to her privately in a far less formal way. She was his own child after all. She was a princess after all; her rank made her only second to him. Did this mistake cause all of that to change?

How could she make her father understand that this was not her fault. It had all happened so suddenly. No. It had happened slowly. Gisla shook her head in her own confusion. She was not sure which way it was. All she knew was that she had not intended for any of this to happen. She hadn't done anything wrong after all, had she?

The thought made her blood run cold. Perhaps she had. She had never concerned herself with the teachings of the Church on what things a woman was permitted to do with a man before it became a sin. She had always thought that such knowledge was for lesser, and fallen women. Not a woman like her.

With mortification she recollected the many kisses she had shared with her visitor. And her heart felt like it might stop when she thought of how she enjoyed some of those kisses, especially the one last night. Surely, that had to be sinful. And then there were all those times she had even gone so far as to invite him into her bed. What was she thinking?

The door to the antechamber opened. Gisla watched as her father entered. In his hand he clutched the condemning piece of clothing, and Gisla realized she would have to answer for this.


Rollo waited for the fat man to be well out of the room and then turned to Abbot Lupus. "What is this all about?"

"Take a seat, Rollo," the old man said while moving around the desk to sit in his own spot.

The delay annoyed Rollo, but he reluctantly sat down.

"Well…" Rollo prompted.

The abbot cleared his throat, as if to pause as he found the right words, then said, "The emperor wishes for you to consummate your marriage with Gisla. Tonight, if possible."

Rollo felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something was not right. "Why? He has not spoken of this for weeks now."

Lupus rolled his jaw as if pondering what to say, which only increased Rollo's anxiety.

"Tell me."

The abbot met his gaze and then seemed to be able to find the words. "There has been some evidence that Gisla has committed adultery against you." He then lowered his voice, "They did not want you to know this, but I respect you too much to hide this from you. They wanted to see what she said after they questioned her. I do–"

"Where is Gisla!" Rollo said as he leapt to his feet.

The abbot looked at him in surprise, "She is in the throne room, but…"

Rollo did not hear anything else the man had to say. He had to go to her, and confess if necessary. These Christians seemed to forget that they were suppose to be merciful when it came to punishing unfaithful women.

He would not let this happen to her, even if it meant ruining everything.


"Gisla, do you know why I have left this room empty," Charles asked her from his throne.

She let her eyes drift across the long stretch of floor and fall on his face, but she could think of no words to say.

Charles realizing that she was unable or unwilling to speak continued, "You are here because I do not think I could bear for others to know the depths of the depravity that my own daughter has fallen to. Whose is this," he asked, holding up the tunic.

"I do not know," Gisla whispered as tears began to fall.

Charles leaned back in his throne and Gisla watched as his eyes grew cold and distant. "You must speak up. I cannot hear you. Who does this belong to?"

"I said that I do not know," Gisla sobbed out.

"And how is it that you do not know? Have there already been so many?" Charles gazed down at the tunic in his grasp before continuing, "You once called to a room crowded with people that you were not a cheap whore." He then ran his thumb along the gold trimmed collar of the tunic. "No, not a cheap whore, indeed."

Gisla began to cry harder. All her life she had been so careful of her reputation, so careful that no one would have even implied such a thing about her. Now her own father had insulted her with words she had feared her whole life.

"Please, father," she begged.

Charles reared his head back, and she could see that he was hardening his heart against her.

"Please," she repeated and then stepped closer hoping that he could see the agony he was causing her.

"I did not say that you could approach," Charles scolded her.

She continued anyway, her tears flowing freely. Why should she not be close to him? She was his child. He was her father. She fell to her knees at his feet. "Please, father. It was a mistake that I regret sincerely. If I could go back, I would never allow myself to be such a fool. But please don't treat me so. I am your daughter. Have mercy."

"How can I have mercy on someone who insists on bringing so much shame to me?"

"I did not mean for any of this to happen. And I have not brought you shame. All my life I have tried to be brave and upright, both for you and the people of Paris. How can you forget all of this now?"

"I can forget when you refused to obey both me and God, by refusing to lay with you husband because you say you value your purity. When in truth you are nothing, but a depraved woman."

"No! You don't understand! I have not lain with anyone. The man was only in my chambers. But no man has known me in that way."

Charles shot her a scathing glance, "Are you certain? I could have physicians examine you and they would know. Don't lie to me."

"Yes, father I am certain."

Charles' face lightened. "So all is not lost," he said to himself, and then looked to Gisla. "Your husband will be brought to you tonight and you will complete the marriage."

Gisla felt herself lose all hope again, "Please father, I am not ready for this, and do not want this marriage. How can you bear condemning me to such a fate?"

Charles looked down at her with stone cold eyes, "I could bear watching him rape you before my own eyes if it meant protecting my throne."


Rollo was relieved to remember a shortcut across the courtyard that would bring him towards Gisla faster. He wished he had more time to think of how he was going to explain, but there was none.

He skidded around the shrubbery, nearly losing his footing on the loose gravel as he ran. To his surprise he saw Gisla was in the garden too. She was sitting on a bench, clutching he hand to her mouth and weeping. His heart felt as if it had been pierced. What had he done?

He knew that he had to go to her. He had to give some sort of explanation. He moved towards her, and tried to think of the words to say. He never wanted his silly scheme to end like it was some elaborate joke. He simply wanted to help her see that he was more than a disgusting savage, now all of that was lost.

She did not seem to see him through her tears as he approached. But when she finally looked up she cringed at the very sight of him. And Rollo knew that in this moment she was not ready to hear him.


Gisla tried to stop the steady flow of tears that was covering her face. She was a high born woman, bred for leading nations and controlling countries, surly she could control her own emotions. But she could not. No matter how hard she tried she could not stop herself from crying.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure approaching. She glanced up to see the Northman. What was he doing here? Had they already fetched him so soon? Was he going to drag her away to her bed chambers? Or maybe he would defile her out in the open like her father implied? Bile rose up in her throat at this thought, and she began to cry with more intensity. What did it matter now? She could do nothing to stop it. Her own father had turned his back on her. No one in the world loved her now.

Gisla jumped with fright when she felt a gentle weight on both her shoulders. She looked up to find that Rollo had taken off his outer robe, and was now in the process of draping it around her shoulders. It was such an odd, un-Frankish thing to do, yet Gisla did not think she minded this very much. He took a seat beside her, and wrapped an arm around her. There was no demand in his touch, though Gisla went stiff with uncertainty.

Soon it occurred to Gisla that whatever Rollo was doing he was willing to be patient. They sat together in the stillness of the garden, and slowly Gisla began to feel herself stop crying. He dipped his head down next to hers and began to whisper to her in his strange language. He had done this before, but during those times Gisla had only ever heard the grunts of a savage. This time was different. There was something soothing in his voice, that she had not noticed until now. It was almost as if she had heard the voice a hundred times before. Even his foreign words did not sound so terrible, she knew none of them, yet she thought perhaps he was trying to comfort her.

He finished speaking and then gave Gisla a reassuring squeeze, almost a mix between a hug and a clap on the back. Then he stood up and strode off as if heading to deal with some great task. Leaving Gisla wrapped in his robe, and wondering why she ever feared the Northman.

Author's Note: Bet you didn't see this twist coming. I hope you liked it just the same. I feel like I have been working on this chapter for ages as I tried to get it right.