The Betrothed Sister

by Carol McGrath

  Thea frowned. It was confusing. Beyond the table in the centre of the hall, Padar was playing the harp softly. They listened for a moment.

  The ambassador remarked, ‘The skald plays well.’ Then he resumed his tale. ‘The rule is that a prince’s father must rule in Kiev as grand prince before the son can inherit. Otherwise the throne goes to the uncle whose father had ruled. The boyars of Kiev thought Prince Iziaslav a weak grand prince. However, many think that these boyars were subject to an enchantment.’

  ‘You mean the magician who was his nephew enchanted the nobles of Kiev.’

  The ambassador tapped the table with his wooden spoon. ‘Indeed it was so but, Princess Gita, all improves we hope. We expect to reclaim Kiev very soon but you see it will be some time before things are settled and I hope you can travel to Russia soon.’

  ‘I hope so too,’ Thea said.

  The ambassador took a breath and continued, ‘The magician is set on dividing the three brothers of Kiev but now they have united to banish him from our territories. You see, Princess, we Russians dwell in troubled times. It is certain that your wedding will be delayed.’

  ‘Does King Sweyn know this?’ Thea asked, thinking that Russia was every bit as dangerous as the land she had fled a year before.

  ‘Your uncle needs our trade routes through to Byzantium. King Sweyn knows that marriage into our princely families is of great benefit to him and to us. His warriors will help our warriors. Our families are already united.’ The ambassador glanced along the table at Queen Elizaveta. She was sister to the three princely Russian brothers and an aunt to Thea’s affianced prince.

  Ambassador Igor said in a firm voice, ‘King Sweyn will want your marriage to happen soon. However, he must be patient.’

  Thea felt disappointed and it showed because Igor said in a kindly manner, ‘Princess Gita, I am certain that you will travel to our lands no matter the threat.’ He smiled with old wisdom in his eyes and Thea recognised that he had seen much unfold in his long lifetime and suspected that he sensed that she could not wait to escape from the Danish court. ‘You, of course, must be used to danger, Princess, since you were in England when the Duke of Normandy swept through your land. Assuming that our great city of Novgorod is safe you will travel there to await your wedding.’ He leaned closer to Thea, so close she could smell a whiff of mint waft off his breath. He touched the sapphire ring on her middle finger with his own mottled one. ‘The young prince is fighting in Ukrainia but he will come to Novgorod when things are settled. He will take you south for your wedding ceremony in Kiev’s magnificent Cathedral of St Sophia.’

  ‘But if there is strife in your lands I could be betrothed for years?’ She tried not to let her impatience show.

  ‘You will enjoy your betrothal,’ he said, avoiding a direct answer. ‘The prince’s stepmother will take you into her terem and teach you our ways. You will learn to be a Russian princess.’ He smiled in a kindly and very reassuring manner. ‘Kiev may be a troubled city, but when it is peaceful it is the most wondrous city of all our Rus cities. It is a Jerusalem, a great city of Christian churches, craftsmen, merchants, people of many nations, including exiles from your esteemed father’s court.’ The diplomat paused and crossed himself before continuing, ‘You, lady Princess, will be safely hidden from any outside turmoil in the Lady Anya’s terem in Novgorod until you travel to Kiev for your wedding.’

  ‘Lady Anya’s terem?’ Thea was both curious and anxious. A terem sounded like a cooking pot. She was to be hidden away!

  ‘Our women remain more sheltered from the world than women here in Denmark. But you will find her palace quarters much to your liking and the atmosphere pleasant. Princess Anya is only twenty-two summers old. She will teach you the ways of our land – the rules we expect our wives to understand.’

  Thea had wanted her wedding to follow her betrothal. She wanted to be a princess of the Rus and not to be ruled by a stepmother who was only six years her senior. She wanted her prince. She pushed a pastry coffin around her silver plate until a creamy filling oozed out. She lifted her veil aside and spooned a little of the custard neatly into her mouth. She would learn to be a good wife and mother, yes, but she wanted to help her prince rule his lands. Together they would be strong. No enemy would steal what was theirs and do as the Normans had done when they had crossed the Narrow Sea, entered her homeland, massacred her father’s people and razed their homes to the earth.

  She glanced up from her pastry. Padar had finished playing. The musicians with bagpipes, drums and cymbals were back. So were the poor. They had crept into the hall doorway from the courtyard beyond begging food, leftovers, creatures seeking betrothal alms and who were almost as noisy as the guests with their whinges, cries, begging and blessings until they were shooed from the hall by two of Sweyn’s servants who carried enormous baskets of leftover loaves and scraps high on their shoulders. She felt sad for those unfortunates who needed alms.

  Once the musicians had resumed playing, two men began leaping about the lower tables in a wild dance. She turned her attention from them. To her side, Ambassador Igor was studying the rosy-cheeked woman who was seated again between two of King Sweyn’s female cousins. Edmund was conversing with his friends.

  What was so special about that woman? She looked at the ambassador with a question she did not form, but it was one he answered anyway.

  ‘The woman sitting amongst the Danish women is from our land. She travelled here with her father, a well-respected merchant of Kiev. I have asked for her to serve you and teach you our language.’

  ‘She is beautiful. But I think it best we keep her very busy and away from the king.’

  ‘I fear it is so,’ the ambassador whispered conspiratorially. ‘Her father would kill the king should he lay a finger on her.’

  ‘That would signal her father’s death for sure.’

  Ambassador Igor leaned close to Thea. She strained to hear him above the dancing warriors, the women on the lower benches, who were now clapping and banging drinking cups in encouragement, and the loud conversations that competed with the racket below.

  Igor whispered close to her ear, ‘Not if her father snatches her from under the king’s nose and sails away, He knows all sorts of tricks to elude King Sweyn’s greatest fleet. Dimitri is one of our most valuable spies as well as a wealthy trader. He works for Prince Vsevolod himself.’

  ‘What is her name?’

  ‘They call her Katya.’

  ‘Katya,’ Thea murmured to herself. ‘I hope you will become my friend.’

  13

  Autumn 1069

  Thea liked her new position at the Danish court as the official betrothed of Prince Vladimir of the Rus. Katya was soon established in Thea’s new household as her personal teacher.

  Thea enjoyed studying the strange symbols that made up the Russian alphabet and she strove to read simple words as she spoke them. Katya was a good teacher and Thea was quick to learn. By November Thea had begun to knit together simple sentences in Russian.

  One afternoon Thea said, ‘Enough for today, tell us of your life in Kiev, Katya. I am curious.’

  Katya sighed. She glanced at the seamstresses who were sewing new garments for Thea. Her sorrowful dark eyes darkened into two pools the colour of bog-land peat. ‘Sometimes I long for Russia. Others, I want to be as far away from that terrible country as I possibly can be. I like sewing. Perhaps I should not return to Russia when you travel, my lady, but instead stay here in Denmark and earn my living as a seamstress.’

  ‘Oh, Katya, was it so terrible? Why does thinking about Russia bring tears to your eyes?’

  ‘It was.’ Katya brushed her tears away with her fingers and told Thea how in the springtime a fierce Steppe tribe called the Cumans attacked Kiev from the Steppes. ‘It was a terrible time. It is why my betrothed lost his life.’

  Thea’s eyes widened as Katya told her story.

  ‘There was an uprising in Kiev because the Grand Prince did not allow his n
oblemen to have an army to protect their trading vessels from the Cuman tribesmen’s attacks. The boyars banished Prince Iziaslav and chose his nephew to rule the kingdom.’

  ‘Ambassador Igor told me about it. What happened to your betrothed?’ Thea urged Katya.

  ‘The sorcerer prince, you know about him, enticed many of Kiev’s nobles to follow him. He cast spells and magicked the Cuman invaders away from the walls of the city. In truth, he is no sorcerer, just a thug who used bribes to win his way out of prison and into the boyars’ hearts. The nobles armed themselves and even Iziaslav’s own army turned against him. The magician prince negotiated with the tribesmen and gave them promises of trade.’

  ‘Which, perhaps, Iziaslav should have done.’ That seemed one solution to Thea.

  ‘He would not spend the money.’

  ‘Your betrothed, Katya, how was he involved?’

  ‘My lady, my betrothed was a young nobleman in Prince Iziaslav’s employ. When Prince Vsevslav, the wicked sorcerer, was released from prison and his followers attacked Prince Iziaslav,’ Katya paused and swallowed, ‘a swordsman struck my love down in the street as he helped Prince Iziaslav flee the city. I miss him every day.’

  ‘Oh, Katya, it is so sad. If I meet that prince I shall thrust my eating knife into his evil heart.’ Her hand involuntarily strayed to the silver eating knife that hung with her scissors and purse from her belt. ‘I hope my Vladimir is safe from his cunning.’

  ‘Did your betrothed die in the street?’

  ‘They carried him to my father’s house. As is our tradition, when the match-makers led us together for our betrothal, I was veiled so my fiancé never saw my face. He did see my face on the day he died, my lady. He looked upon me as he breathed his last breath. He was alive when they brought him into our house, but his life was draining from him, so when he asked for me I was brought to him. He said, “I want to see your face before I die and I shall keep it with me when I travel into God’s Kingdom”. My lady, I lifted aside the head covering that cloaked my face, my head and my neck. I let him look upon my face. I did not weep. Instead I smiled and so my beloved died with my smile in his heart. I can never forgive those who murdered him.’

  Thea thought of the vengeance that lay in her own heart. She thought of Lady Ragnar’s calming words to her as she had looked into the still water in her beautiful bowl. She said to Katya, ‘Perhaps God will extract his own revenge on this man. I hope it is so. Such wickedness will not go unpunished.’

  The circle of life did not pause for a wicked sorcerer but somehow God’s mysterious justice might have a way of evening things up.

  Katya looked at her fiercely. ‘If I can, I shall kill him.’

  ‘No, Katya, set aside revenge and allow fate and God to find a way. One day another man will want to marry you and perhaps then you will let sorrowful memories of your first betrothed rest.’ Thea held Katya’s hand. ‘I, too, have lost many whom I have loved.’

  Gudrun shook her head. ‘If the one I love was murdered in the street I would have revenge in my heart.’

  ‘And who is your love, Gudrun?’ Katya asked, a small smile beginning to brighten her sad face.

  ‘I cannot say because he has not spoken yet. Perhaps he never will.’

  Thea felt her mouth open and then closed it firmly. If she could speak to Padar for Gudrun she would. First, she must be sure that it was what Padar really wanted. And she must think of a way to provide them with a home. The life of an exile was precarious. The life of two exiles with no home and land of their own might be impossible.

  ‘Have you ever seen Prince Vladimir, Katya?’ she asked.

  ‘Only once. My father works for his father. He carries messages. He watches for him.’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘Are you asking me about my father or Prince Vladimir?’

  ‘Well, the prince. Is he heroic? Is he kind? Is he as handsome as they say?’

  ‘I really cannot tell, my lady. He is a warrior and his father worships him though his father is recently married again. The prince’s mother died. His father may have other sons.’

  ‘He has never written me a letter.’

  ‘It is not our way. He cannot even see your face before you are married.’

  Thea could not believe that Vladimir’s uncle, the ruler of Kiev, had had to flee his kingdom, but worse, she was saddened that Katya’s betrothed had been murdered during the rebellion.

  Hearing footsteps, all three looked towards the doorway as Padar entered the room, pushing awkwardly though a blue-and-crimson door tapestry. He carried a new harp with him.

  It was time for Thea’s music lesson.

  ‘An ancient lyre, very like the harp you have been practising. Your first lesson will be today, Lady Thea. Besides I have news for you.’

  ‘Go and fetch my seamstresses some refreshment,’ she said to Gudrun who had flushed crimson. Katya, too, was staring at Padar with interest in her eyes. ‘You too, Katya, my dear.’ Thea gestured towards the end of the long chamber. ‘Just look how my sewing women are busy around the hearth working on my wedding garments. They are hungry.’

  After the girls had slipped through the same curtain that Padar had entered by, Thea said, ‘What news, Padar?’

  ‘In a moment.’ Padar pushed the codex that Thea had been using for her lesson aside. He placed a kinnor, a wonderful lyre from the East, on the table. ‘I brought it back from Novgorod in the spring. It is just like the harp of King David.’

  Thea reached out and plucked the strings. The instrument was in tune. She longed to play it. ‘Padar, what is your news?’

  He lowered his voice. ‘It is both good and bad but more bad than good. The English North rose up. King Sweyn’s warriors burned down the castle at York. They took York, my lady. That was good.’

  ‘The Aetheling will be king, not my brother, and that is not good.’

  ‘The bad news is that King Sweyn made a truce with King William. The Bastard paid him to leave York. The Aetheling fled back to the Scots.’ He paused as the wall candle above him spluttered. ‘The other bad news is that Godwin attacked Exeter and failed. He has returned to Ireland, tail fallen.’

  Two days after her betrothal feast, Edmund had sailed back to Ireland. ‘And Edmund? What news of him?’

  ‘Edmund will join Godwin.’

  ‘And you, Padar? Will you go to Godwin?’

  ‘No, my lady, I shall sail with you to Novgorod next summer. I wish to settle down. I may trade in the Russian lands.’

  ‘Tell me more.’ She was thinking of Gudrun.

  ‘The earl, that is Earl Connor, and I intend to join in an enterprise. I shall become his agent in the Rus lands. I learned their language last winter; not a great deal of it, but enough to stop translators cheating me.’

  ‘Perhaps you should take lessons from Katya.’

  ‘I think not, my lady. It might encourage her.’

  ‘Encourage her?’

  ‘Those dark eyes follow me. She smiles at me at supper and she steps into my path around the courtyards. She becomes bold.’

  ‘Nonsense, she is, in truth grieving for a lost love. You would choose another, Padar?’

  ‘If she would have me. I have nothing to offer a wife.’

  ‘Padar, if it is Gudrun you speak of, she will take you and with my blessing.’

  Padar appeared startled. ‘She likes me?’

  ‘I believe if you asked for her she would be very happy.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady.’ Padar bowed from the waist.

  The curtain moved. Her maids had returned. She glanced over at the door. Gudrun held the tapestry curtain aside for Katya, who carried a laden wooden tray. Observing how Gudrun turned at the first wooden pillar to peer back at Padar, she said quietly into his ear, ‘You do have my blessing. Soon we shall travel to Novgorod and both you and Gudrun will be part of my household.’

  Padar’s countenance was so joyful, looking at his happiness took away the melancholy she felt for her brothe
rs’ failed attempts to recover a kingdom.

  ‘When the time is right, I shall marry her, my lady.’

  ‘Do not leave it too long, Padar. Now, show me this instrument. I wonder if I can make Solomon’s harp sing songs of joy.’

  That evening, Thea fell on her knees on the chapel’s stone flagged floor. She prayed to St Theodosia for Godwin, then Edmund. She prayed for the Atheling who had fled through woods and mountains back to Scotland, bitterly disappointed at Sweyn’s double dealing. Her prayers turned towards little Ulf and to her mother and to Grandmother Gytha.

  The cunning woman’s words floated in and out of her mind as she whispered her prayers and counted them off, clacking a simple ring of stones that hung from her belt. The past was past and though it still caused a deep ache in her breast, she felt at peace because it would be God’s will that William of Normandy would reap punishment for the evil he had sown. And Lady Ragnar, who saw far into the future on water as still as a clear night sky, had said, ‘In time, King William will suffer for his crimes.’

  14

  Russia, April 1070

  On a late spring day, filled with the scent of lilac, Thea’s retinue – her guards, their horses, and wagons – clip-clopped and rumbled their way through the streets of Novgorod. Her white mount, an Arab horse with a plaited mane and a proud stance, was a gift from the ambassadors who had met her party at Lagoda. His name was Starlight. She loved him from the first moment she met him and he had nuzzled her hand. Padar and Earl Connor trotted to either side of her on their sturdy destriers. Rus guards rode behind with two Russian ambassadors.

  Thea occasionally glanced back to reassure herself that the wagons with her maids and wedding goods, including her beautiful palanquin, followed close behind. She could see the wagons’ curved covers rise above a host of armed men in conical hats. The Godwin dragon pennant, her father’s fighting man and her mother’s swan banner, fluttered from the palanquin where Gudrun and Katya sat behind a servant who occasionally flicked a light whip at the horses pulling their carriage. Her family’s silk banner depicting the dragon of Wessex was carried by a page that walked before her horse and led her cavalcade into the city. She felt today that she really was a princess.