by Jayne Castel
Travel-weary and hungry, Raedwyn rode past the gatehouse and up the final incline. There, before her, rose Raedwald’s Great Hall. Many throughout Britannia knew it as the ‘Golden Hall’, for its roof was straw thatch, making it appear gilded when seen from far off. Raedwyn dismounted her horse and followed the men up the steps and through the entrance.
The interior of Raedwald’s hall was a lofty space and a great hearth burned in its center. A boar roasted on a spit and the mouth-watering aroma permeated the whole hall. Richly woven tapestries and fine furs hung from the walls. Once inside, Raedwyn left the men to down their first cups of mead for the evening while she went to her bower to prepare herself for the evening’s feast. Raedwyn’s bower nestled in an alcove behind one of the wall hangings. She felt Cynric’s eyes on her as she ducked behind it into her small, but private, space.
Raedwyn sighed with pleasure upon seeing a large clay bowl of steaming water awaiting her. Behind her, a young woman dressed in a long brown sleeveless shift belted at the waist, drew back the hanging and stepped inside the bower.
“He’s so handsome,” the girl whispered as she began unlacing Raedwyn’s gown at the back, “even if he is old enough to be your father!”
“Eanfled!” Raedwyn gave her friend a look of mock outrage. “Age matters not in love!”
Eanfled snorted at that but made no response. Raedwyn turned round and let her maid finish undoing her laces. Eanfled was right of course; the age gap between her and Cynric was considerable. However, the king had chosen Cynric the Bold especially for Raedwyn – the ealdorman’s honor and valor would make him a worthy husband.
“He certainly does not look like an old man,” Raedwyn reminded Eanfled, “and the other servants say that older men make the best husbands!”
Eanfled giggled. “You shouldn’t listen to those crones Raedwyn – it’s long time since any of them had a man!”
“Stop it!” Raedwyn laughed. “Not all of us have your good fortune.” She turned to Eanfled then and gave her a wicked look.
“Not all of us are about to marry Alric the Smith.”
Eanfled blushed at that. She and Alric’s handfast ceremony was in two days – after nearly a year’s betrothal. Raedwyn was happy for her maid, and only wished she could attend. However, tomorrow she would leave Rendlaesham and journey south with her new husband.
Raedwyn shrugged off her gown and stepped out of it. Eager to set eyes upon her betrothed again, she washed quickly while Eanfled hung up the dress and retrieved the one that Raedwyn had chosen for this evening; a flowing white dress with a gold embroidered neck and hemline that left her arms bare.
Eanfled helped her into the dress and sighed at the sight of Raedwyn wearing it.
“You look lovely,” she breathed. “I feel like such a drab in comparison.”
Raedwyn raised an eyebrow and cast her gaze over Eanfled. Even in her simple attire, Eanfled’s hazel eyes, creamy skin and long pale brown hair were of a gentle beauty.
“Drab is not a word I, Alric, or anyone in Rendlaesham would use to describe you Eanfled,” Raedwyn replied archly.
Eanfled blushed once more and handed Raedwyn two golden arm rings, one for each arm,
“I think you should leave your hair loose tonight,” she told Raedwyn. “Men love it.”
Raedwyn smiled at Eanfled’s knowing comment and slipped on the arm rings. The young women were of the same age and had grown up together. They were close friends more than noblewoman and servant.
“Are you excited?” Eanfled asked as she combed Raedwyn’s hair. “You will be able to run your own household. I know I’m looking forward to that.”
“I am,” Raedwyn admitted, “and it’s about time. Eni says that if I wait much longer no man will want me!”
At twenty winters, Raedwyn was ripe for handfasting. However, her late marriage was due to the whim of her father rather than lack of suitors. After Raegenhere’s death – slain by her father’s archenemy, Aethelfrith of Northumbria – Raedwyn had become his only solace. She was Raegenhere’s female counterpart, sharing her brother’s sharp wit and exuberance. Her uncle, Eni, had pressured Raedwald to find Raedwyn a husband, arguing that there were essential political and military alliances to be made.
Cynric was a good match, for he had a large portion of land to the south, near the Saxon border. Cynric was loyal to the king and an important ally. However, these days Raedwald did not seem to be interested in extending his kingdom or conquering his enemies. He had become withdrawn and contemplative; even Queen Seaxwyn, whom he loved deeply, had been unable to lift his depression. Only Raedwyn brought a little sunlight into his days.
“It will be a magnificent wedding tomorrow.” Eanfled arranged her mistress’s hair so that it fell in heavy golden curls down her back. “I cannot believe you will become a wife before me!”
“I’m sorry that I will not be here for your wedding Eanfled,” Raedwyn replied. “It’s not right that we cannot both wish each other well.”
Eanfled made a dismissive sound but Raedwyn knew her friend had been upset to learn that Raedwyn would not be in Rendlaesham for her and Alric’s handfast ceremony.
Outside her bower, Raedwyn could hear raucous laughter. The mead was flowing freely now. Taking a deep breath to still the nerves that had dulled her appetite, despite her empty stomach, Raedwyn exchanged an excited grin with Eanfled, drew back the tapestry and re-entered the hall.
Cynric spied her immediately.
“Ah, there goes Raedwyn the Fair,” he boomed across the hall. His face was florid from the copious mead he had drunk since his arrival. “And I am relieved to see the stories of your beauty were not exaggerated! You are a goddess my Lady!”
Raedwyn, not shy by nature but not used to such bold statements, felt her face grow hot in embarrassment. Suddenly, all eyes were on her and she felt dozens of male gazes rake her, head to toe.
“Come Raedwyn.” King Raedwald beckoned his daughter over to her place near the head of the table. The king and queen sat at a table on a raised dais. Below the high seats ran two long benches. Raedwyn took a seat in-between her brother Eorpwald and her uncle Eni at the head of one of the tables. Opposite her sat Eni’s eldest son, Annan, and Cynric. Raedwald’s thegns and most prized warriors sat nearby, closest to the king and queen, while the younger men sat on the other side of the fire pit.
Raedwyn could feel Cynric’s stare as she picked at her piece of roast boar. The hall was loud with the crackling and spit of fat in the fire pit and boisterous conversation. Smoke from the cooking tinged the air.
Raedwald was in fine form tonight. The mead had relaxed him and distracted him from the pall of melancholy that hung over him these days. He put an affectionate arm around his wife as he regaled his audience with stories of the adventures he and Eni had shared in their younger days. Raedwyn laughed with the others at the banter that flew between the two brothers. They were good men, her father and uncle, noble men.
Torches, soaked in oil, hung from the walls and their fire illuminated the handsome lines of Cynric’s face and glittered off the gold and silver rings he wore on his arms. It was too bold to stare at him but Raedwyn kept her eyes averted with difficulty. She had her mother’s strong-willed nature and the role of coy maiden did not sit well with her. She had grown up as the only young female in a household filled with strong, dominant men and with a father who had relished her feisty nature. However, Raedwyn understood instinctively that not all men liked strong-willed women and so she behaved demurely at the table. She nibbled daintily at the meat and bread before her and only took occasional sips of mead.
“You’re quiet this eve sister.” Eorpwald washed down a mouthful of bread and roast boar with mead and eyed Raedwyn. “You’re not usually at a loss for words.”
Raedwyn threw her brother a withering look. She and Eorpwald had never understood each other.
“I think I like this new, lady-like sister of mine,” Eorpwald teased. “She’s much less of a
handful.”
Raedwyn rolled her eyes and resisted the childish urge to stick out her tongue.
“It’s not long now dear brother before you shall be rid of me for good,” she replied sourly.
“Then our father’s hall will become a much sadder and duller place,” Eorpwald replied, the teasing tone now absent from his voice.
Raedwyn gave him a sharp look, unsure whether he was still making fun, but Eorpwald was no longer looking at her. He was a small and sinewy young man with mousy hair and heavy-lidded gray eyes; a sharp contrast to the other blond, blue-eyed and physically imposing men of the Wuffinga line.
Eorpwald often irritated Raedwyn. He was observant but indirect and she found him sly compared to her beloved late brother Raegenhere. He would often look on with barely concealed amusement at Raedwyn’s exuberant, pragmatic behavior, unfazed by her coolness towards him. Eorpwald’s relationship with their mother and father had always bemused Raedwyn. He often appeared ill at ease in his father’s hearty company, and relations between Eorpwald and the queen were distant, bordering on cold. Seaxwyn had always treated Eorpwald like her other children and Raedwyn noticed it was he, rather than she, who was standoffish.
Raedwyn watched her enigmatic brother for a moment longer before turning her attention to her betrothed. Cynric took a gulp of mead from his bronze cup and saluted her. This time Raedwyn held his gaze and smiled back.
***
The Handfast ceremony took place at noon. Raedwyn stood before Cynric in her father’s hall. She felt like a queen, dressed in a magnificent gown threaded through with gold and with flowers woven through her hair. This was not a Christian but an ancestral ceremony that took place on the day sacred to the Goddess Frigg, protector of marriage and childbirth. Raedwald had converted to Christianity and had worshipped at the altar of both religions simultaneously for many years, even if he was not a Christian at heart – much to Seaxwyn’s joy, for the queen had always remained loyal to the old gods.
“Do you both enter into this bond with a free will?” King Raedwald’s voice echoed in the silent hall. Beside him, Queen Seaxwyn looked on, intently watching her daughter’s face.
Both Cynric and Raedwyn nodded their assent.
“Is there anyone present who protests at this union?” Raedwald continued.
A brief silence followed Raedwald’s words before the king spoke once more. “Then make your pledges.”
Cynric turned to Raedwyn and looked into her eyes.
“I, Cynric, pledge to defend my Lady Raedwyn, with my life.”
“And I, Raedwyn, pledge to never harm nor bring dishonor on my Lord Cynric.”
Then Cynric knelt and picked up a sword sheathed in a gem-encrusted scabbard. “Take this sword, Dragon Hammer, as a token of my fidelity.” He gently placed the sword in Raedwyn’s hands.
Raedwyn looked down at the gift. The sword was heavy in her hands, a valuable and exquisitely crafted weapon. Now it was her turn to give him a gift.
“Take this shield as a symbol of my family’s protection.” She handed Cynric a great lime wood shield studded with an iron boss. He took it reverently, admiring its fine craftsmanship.
Then Cynric reached out and clasped Raedwyn’s left hand in his. He had large, blunt hands; rough and coarse compared to his fine physique and handsome face. Queen Seaxwyn stepped forward and wrapped a ribbon around their joined hands.
Cynric and Raedwyn looked into each other’s eyes and Raedwyn’s heart pounded nervously as they spoke the next words in unison.
“May we be made one.”
Seaxwyn unbound the ribbon and passed it to Raedwyn, before they shared a small cup of mead. Cynric sipped from the cup before passing it to Raedwyn. She took a sip and returned it to Cynric who drained the rest in a single draught. Then they shared a piece of honeyed seed cake. It felt oddly intimate for Raedwyn to break off a bit of cake and gently feed it to Cynric while he did the same. An ancient ritual, only the bride and groom were allowed to eat the seed cake. The seeds represented fertility and abundance while the honey symbolized harmony between the new couple. Raedwyn hoped the seed cake would indeed work its magic.
The ceremony ended with Cynric pulling Raedwyn into his arms and kissing her. It was a brief, hard kiss that crushed Raedwyn’s lips against her teeth. The crowd cheered exuberantly and Raedwald stepped forward to congratulate his new son-in-law. He then enveloped Raedwyn in a bear hug.
Burying her face in her father’s chest, Raedwyn felt like a little girl again. Despite her eagerness to be married, now it had happened she did not want to leave Rendlaesham and her father’s protection. Raedwyn fought back tears and stepped back from the king. You’re not his little girl anymore, she reminded herself as she gave her new husband a bright smile and took his hand in hers, it’s time I grew up.
Well-wishers swirled around the newly wedded pair and the festivities began.
***
That eve, nervous despite the mead she had drunk throughout the day, Raedwyn sat on the bed in the bridal chamber, in an annex at the end of the Great Hall, and watched her new husband undress. He was a big man and broad across the shoulders. He deftly removed his clothes, not looking at Raedwyn as he did so. His chain mail vest fell to the floor, clinking like gold coins. Under it, he wore a linen tunic with a silk border and loose breeches that were cross-gartered to the knee. He removed these, still not looking in Raedwyn’s direction, until he stood naked before her. He had a virile, mature body that bore the scars of many battles. A curly mat of blond hair covered his chest, and the sun had tanned his face and arms a ruddy gold. The areas of his body where the sun never touched were milk-white. He walked over to where Raedwyn sat, staring at him.
“You’re a curious one aren’t you?” he said. “Stand up.”
Raedwyn did as ordered, only to have him pull the long, ankle length tunic she had changed into over her head in one practiced motion, revealing her nakedness.
“Very nice,” Cynric murmured as he took a long look at her body. Strangely, even though he had gazed into her eyes during the Handfast ceremony, he would not look her in the eye now they were alone.
“Nice large ones.” He squeezed her breasts hard, making her squeak in protest. His big hands moved down her torso, over the dip of her waist and the curve of her stomach until he gripped her bottom. “I like a girl with a bit of meat on her,” he said appreciatively.
Raedwyn felt her face grow hot, as much from annoyance as embarrassment. He was making her feel like a juicy side of pork, rather than a beautiful, desired woman. Despite her irritation, she could feel a curious heat building between her legs. He was naked, big and handsome and he was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his body touching hers.
Cynric pushed Raedwyn back onto the bed and parted her legs wide, staring at what lay between them. Raedwyn saw his face was now flushed with excitement and his erection thrust up, quivering with anticipation, towards her from a nest of blonde curls. Raedwyn’s mouth went dry, whether from fear or desire she could not decide.
Cynric’s hand slid down her belly and dipped between her legs – the tingle of pleasure it brought made her gasp aloud. That was the only encouragement Cynric needed. With a grunt, he leant over her and kneaded her breasts like bread dough before pushing his hand between Raedwyn’s thighs and rubbing so hard she cried out again, this time in pain.
Mistaking her cry for one of pleasure, he shoved her legs so far apart she felt her hip muscles cramp before he thrust his way inside her. Pain knifed through Raedwyn. The urge to scream and rake at his face to get him off her was overwhelming. With a strangled cry, she managed to stop herself and bit down on her bottom lip. Then, Cynric jerked his hips violently and drove himself deeply inside her.
Oblivious to his bride’s agony, Cynric bent her legs back and started to pound into her, watching his own performance as he did so. Raedwyn gritted her teeth. He could have been bedding any woman. He had not looked at her face once sinc
e they had entered the chamber. She writhed in an attempt to escape the pain; her thigh and hip muscles were held at such an uncomfortable angle the muscles were now burning.
Fortunately, Cynric’s passion did not last long. He thrust and grunted for a short while before his face screwed up in an expression more reminiscent of pain than pleasure and he let out a hoarse shout. Then he collapsed on top of Raedwyn and promptly fell into a mead-induced slumber.
Raedwyn lay on the bed, pinned under the heavy body of her new husband, and stared up at the rafters. All was quiet except for the distant barking of a dog. The rest of Raedwald’s hall slept peacefully but Raedwyn knew she would not sleep tonight. A single torch burnt on the wall, casting long shadows across the bridal chamber her mother had decorated lavishly for this occasion.
Dry-eyed Raedwyn continued to stare up at the shadows playing across the timbered ceiling. So that was how it was between men and women? Would Eanfled have to endure the same agony with Alric? She had seen animals approach mating with more tenderness than she had just endured. Cynric did not make love; he rutted like a frenzied ram. He had not shown any tenderness towards her. He would rut until he got her with child and then once she gave birth he would rut some more – groping at her body until he tired of it.
The thought made bile creep up into the back of Raedwyn’s throat but still she did not cry. She had married Cynric of her own free will and there would be no going back.
Chapter Two
A short while before sunrise, Raedwyn finally drifted off to sleep. What seemed like moments later, she awoke as Cynric rolled off her and belched. The torch had long since burnt out, cloaking the chamber in darkness. Raedwyn feigned sleep as Cynric stumbled across the room to use the privy. Then he threw open the shutters and watery sunlight poured into the chamber. Raedwyn opened her eyes a crack to see gray skies outside, before quickly closing them. Too late, Cynric had seen she was awake.