Chapter 327 - 238: A Christmas Carol (3)

"But this is a language of peasants and serfs; I usually find it dreadfully dull. However, I’ve had a change of heart since I set foot on this drizzly island. The people here are so lacking in breeding and knowledge that they have no sense of awe.

"So, I think I should learn some truly terrifying English curses, don’t you?" The Baroness took a step toward Eric, pressing herself against him suggestively. She tugged at his belt, tilted her head back, and rested it against his neck. Eric could feel her breath.

The Baroness had a reputation as a flirt.

"Is that so?" Eric shrugged. "Then I imagine it must have been quite an ordeal for you to attend this feast."

Afterward, Eric made an excuse to get away from the Baroness and left the castle.

He wanted to get some fresh air. The castle was so noisy it was giving him a headache. Since it was cold, everyone was crammed inside, and the air was a thick, stagnant mixture of perfume, roast goose, and who knew what else.

’Eric sometimes felt he was a man of contradictions. He hated silence, yet he also hated noise.’

Bristol Castle stood on the riverbank. The cold wind against his face helped clear his head, still fuzzy from the ale. It was December, and it had snowed a few days prior, leaving a thin sheet of ice on the river. The branches of the chestnut trees were bare, their leaves long gone. The boughs of the beech trees shone like silver threads, while the oaks stood tall and stark as silent, black iron.

Torches and bonfires had been set up all the way from the castle to the royal lodge, so the grounds weren’t too dark.

"What’s the matter? Find out the Baroness has the clap and get so scared you had to come out here for some cold air?"

It was Emma.

She smelled of wine and cardamom.

She was dressed completely differently from when he’d seen her that afternoon. She wore a simple, long-sleeved white linen shirt with a form-fitting black leather tunic over it. Her light green skirt had been replaced with tight black riding breeches, and she was wrapped in a deep blue woolen cloak from Flanders.

Eric noticed she was also wearing high boots.

She looked sharp and practical.

She led a horse by the reins. Its mane was adorned with silver chains and ribbons of green and white. A golden Lion of Normandy was embroidered on the white saddle blanket.

The silver chains chimed in the cold wind, a sound as crisp as bells.

It reminded Eric of Matilda.

"What’s all this? Dressed like that, are you planning to go hunting in the forest?"

"I can’t be bothered to dress up like some proper lady. It’s not like I had to attend this banquet, just to be harassed by a pack of insufferable old men. The whores you brought in have already gone to their heads.

"I bet it will take days to clean this castle come tomorrow morning."

"So you’re just going to stay outside the whole time?"

"Hardly. I’m going into town to find an inn. After all, the great Lord Gloucester, Defender of the Kingdom’s Marches, King Robert’s newest favorite, has to save his rooms for more important guests.

"A minor player like me, with no political value to be won over, ought to know when to make a graceful exit."

"And when you go back?"

"Spare me. Don’t ask me that. It’s giving me a headache just thinking about it. I have nightmares about being chased by hunting dogs." Emma pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head.

"Is that so?" Eric laughed at her joke.

"Still, I suppose I can rest for a little while, before my father gets back."

"Don’t tell me you don’t want him to come back."

"Of course not," Emma denied instantly. "Well, maybe just a little."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling.

"A moment of silence for Earl Fitz."

Eric laughed too.

"Gloucester is very close to Hereford. If you find your father is giving you too much grief, you can come here. Your father owes me his life. He promised he would repay that debt one day.

"I won’t be in England often. I’ll be going to Normandy to fulfill my obligations to the King. These lands will need someone to manage them. I can offer you Nine Hides of land as compensation," Eric said suddenly, pulling off his ring.

Emma finally took the ring and put it on her finger. "I must be mad," she said, looking at Eric. "Just when I have some free time, occasionally. Understood?"

He began to kiss her—her mouth, her eyelids, her throat—and his hands began to wander.

"I’m going to Hell for this," she said.

As his touch grew bolder and more intimate, she didn’t object. She allowed him to pull down the collar of her tunic, allowed his hands to explore.

She gradually began to respond, her hand slipping inside his shirt and across his stomach.

He lifted her into his arms.

Just then, the bells for vespers rang out, and the festivities inside the castle grew even livelier.

The Church had futilely condemned the "carol" as sinful, but it remained the most popular dance, a delight for spectators and participants alike.

The dancers swayed to the left, singing the chorus: "Pride vanishes, pride appears, pride is the root of all sin."

They spun in a circle, their colors whirling like vibrant flags, a dazzling, ever-changing tableau under the light of the swaying overhead chandeliers.

The air was thick with hymns, prayers, laughter, alcohol, and forbidden pleasure.

——————

The content of the charter is based on the Charter of Liberty issued by Robert’s younger brother, Henry the Scholarly, as well as the Magna Carta of 1215. It is the academic consensus that the latter drew heavily from the former. The Magna Carta was a reaffirmation of ancient traditions, but its establishment of the principle of habeas corpus and the concept of the king being subject to the law were still highly significant, codifying the underlying principles of Anglo-Saxon customary law.