Elizabeth Chadwick - The Conquest

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When a comet appears in the sky over England in 1066, Ailith, a young Saxon wife, feels sure that it can only bode well, in spite of her husband's fears. With a child on its way, the couple are prosperous and content. Yet, within a year, Ailith's joy turns to heartache as her husband and her child are taken from her and the conquering Normans advance.
Ailith's grief turns to love for a brief period with Rolf de Brize, a handsome and womanising Norman invader. She bears him one daughter, but in the aftermath of the Battle of Hastings she discovers a betrayal she cannot forgive . . . 
Years later, the spirited and strong-willed Julitta is determined to find happiness, and yet her life has been filled with pain: from surviving life in a brothel in Southwark to suffering the pain of a forbidden love and a bitter, loveless marriage. Her quest takes her on a Pilgrimage to Compostella to a colourful horse fair in Bordeaux, to the terrors of piracy on the open sea.
The year is 1066 when Norman womanizer Rolf de Brize saves the life of a Saxon woman, Ailith, who tries to kill herself after losing both her husband and her child following the Normans' invasion of England. Installed as chatelaine of Rolf's English estate, Ailith resolves to remain chaste, but her determination is sorely tried by Rolf, who is already married and has a child. These are not simply modern characters dressed in medieval garb but very clearly men and women of their time, and their fascinating story is completely involving and believable. Chadwick (The Wild Hunt, St. Martin's, 1991) is a prize-winning historical novelist who does not romanticize what was often a dangerous and brutal time, particularly for women. Intelligent, enjoyable, and entertaining, this novel will be appreciated by readers of Sharan Newman's medieval mysteries (e.g., Strong as Death, LJ 8/96).?Elizabeth Mary Mellett, Brookline P.L., Mass.
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.
A young Saxon woman suffers the harsh consequences of the Norman invasion of England in this epic melodrama. After both her husband and brothers suffer violent deaths at the hands of the conquerors, Ailith temporarily loses her wits and attempts to take her own life. Thwarted by Rolf de Brize, a lusty, sympathetic Norman, Ailith agrees to assume the position of chatelaine of his English estate. Though she bears his child and spends many contented years as his mistress, she reluctantly realizes that the fundamental gulf that separates them is too wide to sufficiently bridge. When she discovers that Rolf has betrayed her both physically and spiritually, Ailith flees, bequeathing her young daughter a bitter legacy of love and loss. Historical romance on a grand scale.
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There was a long silence. Two strangers who had run out of things to say. Then, the flambeau Julitta was holding wavered and dipped. 'I am afraid,' she whispered, and it was not just her wrist that trembled, but her entire body.

'Of what?'

'Of having wanted too fiercely and for too long. Of having my heart's desire offered on a platter.'

Benedict grimaced. 'Hardly on a platter,' he said. 'The pain has been too fierce and endured far too long.' A considering frown lined his brow. 'Ah Christ, let there be an end to this, let me tell the bees the truth as I feel it.' Taking a pace forward, he removed the torch from her hand and thrust it into the dug earth beside the skep. Then he drew her into his arms, gently lowered her chin with his thumb so that she was no longer chewing her lip, and kissed her.

It was fierce and tender, swift and slow, subtle and raw. She felt the pattern of the dance in her veins as she had felt it on that long ago May evening, and again in the garden at this very place when she was a married woman on the verge of adultery. Her loins were suddenly liquid. She pressed against him and the anguish of his voice in her ear melted her bones.

'I swear I will go mad if I cannot have you — tonight and for a lifetime,' he muttered. 'Julitta, say yes.'

Julitta laid her head against his breast and felt the swift thump of his heart. Lower down, against her belly, she could also feel the hard proof of his need. 'I choose the future,' she said, and gripped him, clenching her fists to grasp her decision so that it could not be taken from her as so much else had been.

He gripped her in return, speaking her name over and again, kissing her, and being kissed.

Their embrace was curtailed by the hound. He pushed his moist muzzle at them and stood on his hind legs, pressing muddy, wet forepaws against their joined bodies. Gasping for breath, laughing, they broke apart. Benedict snapped at Grif to get down. The dog whined and sat back on his haunches, his wrinkled face reproachful. Then he yodelled at them.

Dizzy with emotion, Benedict looked at Julitta. Her wimple was unpinned, her braids an unwinding dark tumble over her breasts. His Julitta, his lovely, brave, Maytime Julitta. 'Come,' he said. 'Grif is right. It is time to go in.' He held out his hand, and she linked her fingers through his.

Handfasted, like a bride and groom, they entered the keep.

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