Crusade

‘I know why you are doing this and I’m very grateful, but this marriage can only be a cloak. If I ever see your little prick poking out of your smock with an evil look in its eye, I’ll dice it up like minced meat!’

‘Thank you, my beloved. Worry not, I will try to keep my “little prick” under control. If its needs become too great, I’ll take comfort in one of the baggage girls; that’s what they’re there for.’

Edwin and I looked at one another, not entirely sure how much of the exchange was serious and how much was banter. Either way, although not exactly made in heaven, it seemed to be a match that served its purpose.

The four of us agreed that the terms of the marriage would be known only to us, to be kept in the strictest confidence.

I went to Robert to give him the extraordinary news.

The wedding ceremony was organized within hours. Adela managed to borrow a linen dress from one of the few Norman women in Durham and made for herself a lovely circlet of wild flowers. The overall effect was very fetching, and she looked like any other bride on her wedding day — serene and striking. Her dress was an abrupt reminder of her femininity. The pleasing curves of her sexuality, previously hidden by the smock, leggings and hauberk of a warrior, were plain to see. Her hair, washed and brushed, fell in gentle ash-blond waves and her skin shone with the rosy glow typical of her Englishness. She seemed smaller — indeed, petite — without her male garb and weapons. It was an image that must have challenged many prejudices about her sexual preferences.

Sweyn stood by her side, proud and handsome, a young man who had, within just two days, become a knight and a husband. Not surprisingly, he now looked older than his years. He had always had the bearing and manner of a knight, but now he was one. With his dark-brown hair and tanned skin, in contrast to his fair English bride, he could easily have been the haughty son of a Count of Aquitaine; he looked the part and had the self-confidence of a young man born to wield power. I was proud of my brother- and now my ‘sister’-in-arms. They were, to everyone’s agreement, an eye-catching couple.

Sadly, that was not the end of the matter. Even before the happy couple could retire for the non-consummation of their marriage, several of Sweyn’s fellow knights were determined to cause trouble.

The taunts were predictable. Sweyn was ten years younger than Adela so, inevitably, the mocking suggested that she was the real ‘man’ of the partnership and that at the bedroom ‘tilt’ it would be Adela who would do the ‘tilting’ and Sweyn who would be ‘speared’ in the joust.

Adela tried to pull him away from the insults, but Sweyn’s anger could not be assuaged and pandemonium broke out. He drew his sword with lightning speed and lunged at his barrackers before any of them could unsheathe their weapons. They retreated rapidly, some falling over one another as they did so. Sweyn managed to get his blade firmly under the chin of one of them, who happened to be Alan of Sees, the youngest son of one of King William’s most powerful allies and one of Count Robert’s most capable young knights.

As Sweyn spoke, the razor-sharp tip of his sword drew blood, which began to trickle down the blade.

‘If you ever insult my wife or me again, I’ll kill you. And that applies to any other man here.’

Adela was at his side in an instant. She had hitched up her dress beyond her knees and pulled out the seax concealed inside the ankle straps of her leather shoe. Now she was holding it towards their goaders, crouched in the pose of a knife-fighter. Suddenly, she was a warrior again.

Sweyn glared at them all with a fiery look in his eye that had real menace in it, then calmly put his sword in its scabbard, took Adela by the hand and walked away.

She, in turn, sheathed her dagger in its improvised scabbard, dropped the hem of her dress, smoothed out its wrinkles and curtsied sweetly to Count Robert, who had arrived to see what the commotion was. Their assailants dispersed sheepishly as the many onlookers began to mutter to themselves.

The speed and ferocity of Sweyn’s reaction had certainly mesmerized me. Whether it had won him respect among his and Adela’s detractors, or created enemies for life, was difficult to tell. Notwithstanding that, he had certainly made an impression.

At dinner that night, Robert was full of admiration for Sweyn.

‘That boy put the fear of God into Alan of Sees today.’

‘Yes, he did. It was quite extraordinary.’

‘Let’s hope he can break Adela as easily as he can tame my knights.’

I smiled to myself, remembering the terms of the marriage, and thought, ‘If only you knew, my friend.’