Soot had darkened the wooden members, but he could still see the rich ornamentation and the intricate patterns and scrollwork he had observed in other English dwellings, particularly in the churches. He had left his hauberk, spurs and the wolf’s pelt in his chamber and now sat at the table on the dais enjoying the evening meal. Torches set into the wall cast a warm glow about the long timbered room, and candles set upon the tables flickered as servants with expressionless faces laid trenchers of food before him and his men. Gazing about the room, he paid scant attention to the low male voices and hearty laughter coming from his men. A few dogs lurked in the shadows among the rushes, eager for a scrap. Renaud took it all in and marveled that this now was his as well as the lands that were a part of his earldom. He ate with relish the venison, fish and roasted vegetables the cook had prepared. His prayer had been granted. Maggie was a fine cook. Taking up his goblet of French wine, Renaud leaned back in the lord’s chair, well satisfied.
