Now they were nearly upon me and I needs must move to keep myself from the mud flying off the hooves of their beasts. I walked into the neglected field, and Toki surged by on his great grey horse, whooping and beating him about the neck. The other man was just behind him, but Toki had reined his horse in, so for him at least the race was over, and he the winner.
I regained the road and started walking towards the village, glad that they were gone. I had not taken more than a few steps when I heard the champing of bits and jingling of bridle fittings behind me. I turned about, and there was the grinning Toki and the other Dane, panting and out of breath as were their mounts. Their horses danced under them, and Toki wheeled round and round calming his.
Toki moved his horse past me and blocked my path, and the other Dane brought his horse in behind me, so that I was subject to be struck by a hoof if one of the beasts should fright.
I would not look at them, but stepped into the muddy field and began to make my way through it.
The other Dane spoke to Toki, and Toki answered. My back was turned, but I heard one of the men move their horse, and ride away down the road at a trot.
“Greetings, shield-maiden,” said Toki, and his light voice was full of mockery.
I did not turn to look at him, but he went on. “Or are you angered that I use the name Sidroc gave you?” I picked up the hem of my gown and began to move through the field away from him.
“He has all but spoken for you, so perhaps he will be angered at my words,” called out Toki.
I would not answer, but he would not be deterred. He urged his horse forward, and soon overtook me. He leaned down from his horse and said, “Why do you not answer me, Lady? It is better sport when you do.”
I looked up at him. “Why should I pleasure you then, when your sport is such a poor one? Do you take pleasure in trampling a woman on the road? Or in shaming her and her Lady at every chance? Is this what Danes value in their men?” My words were hot, but I did not care, and could not have cooled them if I tried.
I stared him full in the face, and his grin faded. He swung himself down from his horse, and stood next to me upon the unploughed Earth.
Now that the distance was closed between us, I did not feel so bold, but my anger was still hot in my veins, and I would not flinch.
“We value many things in our men; and in our women too,” he said, and his speech was more quiet than any he had yet used with me. “Hardiness and spirit we value very much in our women, and if beauty and riches be found there as well, then the man who claims such a woman has claimed also the favour of the Gods.”
I could not let this chance go by me, for I saw what path his words were taking. I spoke again, with as much firmness as I could. “Then you and every other man here should know at once that I am a poor choice for your testing-games, for I have no riches.”
He began to laugh. “Ha! You think much of yourself, as all your kind do.”
I thought the colour would rush into my face, but perhaps I was already red from anger. I spoke not, but looked away.
“Not to fear, Lady,” he said in an easy tone. “You should think much of yourself, for you are worth much.”
He paused, and shifted the bridle reins from one hand to another. “Any man here will pay Yrling a good bride-price for you.”
I jerked my head and looked at him. “I will not be sold away like livestock at your Lord’s pleasure,” I said.
He laughed the more. “But you are such a prize!” he answered. “Hissing and spitting like a beautiful cat.” He looked at me closely and lowered his voice. “I think, like most cats, you can be tamed.”
I did not speak, but began to move away. He reached out and grasped my arm, and the strength in his fingers made me stop. I turned and looked at him, and spoke as steadily as I could. “Please to let me go. I want to return.”
His hand dropped away, and he walked with me out of the field. We reached the road, and he did not remount his horse, but walked on with me.
After a few moments he said, “I am sorry I cannot marry you myself.”
I did not know how to take these words; there was no mockery in them. I glanced at him.
“I already have a wife, but I do not like her very much,” he said.
“You are already wed?” I asked, hoping that I had not walked into another jest.
“Yes,” he answered, “but she is home, so I have not seen her for two Winters.”
I believed these words, and asked, “Have you children?”
He nodded his head. “Two. One of them is a boy.”
“Then perhaps your wife will come soon and join you here,” I suggested.
“I do not know,” he said, and he looked across the fields. “She dislikes the sea, and is fearful of ships.”
I did not know what to say, so I said, “I am sorry.”
“That is all right,” he answered, “As I said, I do not like her much.”
“Why then did you wed?” I asked. “You could have had a great choice amongst women, I think.” I said this not for the praise of it, but because it was true.
“Before my father died he made this match for me, and the woman was rich, so I had to wed.” He turned and looked at me and gave a short laugh. “Sometimes men have no choice either,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, but in truth it seemed to me that men had all the choice in life, and women very little.
I looked down, and we walked on in silence. I wished every moment he would mount his horse and ride away.
I looked at him from the tail of my eye, and thought to speak once more. “Why even tell me you are wed, if you are not bound by the Hand-fasting bonds? A man who is married to one, yet takes his pleasure with every woman as will have him, is not truly wed.”
He only laughed. “You speak much, but you know little,” he said.
I went on, and he walked by my side, leading his horse. “Why did you come out?” he asked. “There is nothing to see.” He raised his arm to the landscape.
“I wanted air,” I said. “I am not used to being shut up.”
We walked along. “I never walk when I can ride,” he said, not looking at me.
“Why then do you not ride?” I asked in a short voice.
He began to laugh, and I walked the faster.
“I would rather walk with you than ride, but most of all I want to ride with you,” he said. I was silent, but he went on. “I would like to take you to the camp where we keep our horses. I have just come from there; it is not far.”
“Perhaps another time,” I answered. “When my Lady and I ride together, you can take us there.”
“I would rather take you alone,” he said. I was not looking at him, so I do not know if he grinned as he spoke.
“I think not,” I said, and kept moving.
He grasped my arm again and stopped me. I would not look at him, but kept my eyes fixed on the fields. He said nothing, but I felt his staring eyes. At last I turned my head, and looked into his face.
“Sleipnir is strong,” he said, inclining his head toward his horse. “He will carry us swiftly. We will be gone and back before dark.” His voice was quiet and low.
“No,” I said, “I will not ride with you.” I began to feel true fright. We were still far from the palisade; I did not think anyone would hear me if I cried out.
His fingers tightened around my arm, and he brought his face close to mine. His blue eyes flashed. “I also am strong, and could lift you upon the saddle and ride off with you,” he said, and his voice was almost a whisper.
I wanted to speak, but knew I must choose carefully what to say. I could not believe that he would try to carry me off; I recalled the words of Yrling when he said that I would be safe, for no one would touch that which was his. But he looked at me in such a way that his wildness struck me with fear.
“Your own Lord told my Lady that I would be safe here at Four Stones. Would you dishonour him by breakin
g his word?” I asked, and I tried to stem my fear as I looked at him. “And do not think that Yrling would never know if you used force upon me. I would go to him at once and tell him.”
He stepped closer to me and our bodies touched. “Perhaps after once with me, you would not wish to tell him,” he breathed.
I pulled my arm away so hard that I broke his grasp. “I would never go to you willingly! My father and kinsman would kill you if you despoiled me, but they themselves have joined the dead. Do you take pride in your threat against a maid with no one to defend her?”
He did not answer, and I went on; I could not stop my words. “I would not rest until I had revenge against you, even if I myself must do it alone, and no man came forth to punish you.”
He looked at the ground and then spat upon it. “I do not want you,” he said. “Sidroc can have all.”
And he turned and grasped his horse’s mane and swung himself into the saddle. He dug his heels hard into the animal’s side, and the beast reared and then plunged down the road towards the palisade of Four Stones.
Chapter the Twenty-fourth: Fright and Fight
AS he rode off I closed my eyes tight to keep the tears from them, but my tears flowed just the same. I was trembling with anger and hatred and with fear, and at that moment if I could have struck Toki from his horse with a thunderbolt I would have done it, and rejoiced.
Then I felt the force of my wickedness in thinking this, but felt even stronger the force of the wickedness that was in Toki. I walked fast, and the tears streamed down my cheeks, and as I walked I spoke aloud in my anger and fear. I gained the palisade, and then the hall, and burst into our chamber.
Burginde was alone, sitting on her stool over some mending.
She came to my side in a moment and clasped her arm about me. “Lady, what troubles you?” she asked, and touched my wet face with her hand.
“It is Toki,” I cried. “I met him on the village road, and he would not leave me alone.”
She drew back. “He did not touch you!”
“No, no,” I choked through my tears. “Only pinched my wrist in holding me. I broke away, and told him that I would kill him if he touched me.”
“Good!” she said. “And yet he tried to catch you up, and grasped you by the wrist?”
“Yes.”
“Did you strike him?”
“No, I only pulled away, and tried to shame him.”
“You should have kneed him in the cods,” said Burginde decisively. “Like this.” And she lifted her skirt and raised her knee in a quick motion.
Despite my anger and upset I laughed a little, and Burginde brought the basin and poured out water. I splashed my face, and Burginde went on talking. “Never be afraid to strike out against a man if he will not listen to the word No. ‘Tis the best thing for the likes of Toki. Words can’t shame them; they have no shame in them.” She thought a moment. “Some men thinks No means Yes. A maid like you be a challenge to them. Like as not he and that scarred Sidroc have a wager on who beds you first.”
I shuddered. “Ugh! I would not even go down to the hall if that be true! And Toki even told me he had a wife!”
“Does he, now?” asked Burginde.
“Yes, and children too, at home! He said he did not like her much.”
“Ha!” cried Burginde. “As if that be the excuse to prey upon a fatherless maid!”
I wiped my face and began to unbraid my hair. My arm hurt where Toki had held it, and the hem of my gown was filthy with mud. I wanted to bathe and change my clothing, and put everything out of my mind.
“Sounds like it was more than just him testing you,” said Burginde. “The Dane should know of it, and from your lips.”
I looked up at her. “I do not want to tell Yrling! I just want Toki to leave me alone.” I took my comb and drew it through my hair. “Besides, he will probably tell me that I should marry, and so end Toki’s game.”
“Ach! You be right there, and who could you wed in this wasteland?” She had picked up my mantle and was shaking it out. “Still,” she went on, “the Dane should know; he is the closest thing to a real protector you have; and tho’ Toki be his own kin he cannot allow you to be harmed.” She hung the mantle on a wall peg. “And to think the sly dog has a wife and kiddies!”
I could not think about telling Yrling, and wanted only to forget the meeting on the road. “Burginde, will you bring the tub for me? I want to bathe now, even if the water is not warm.”
“Just let me go down to the kitchen yard; Dobbe always has a cauldron on, and a hot bath will do so much more good than a cool one.” She took up the buckets and opened the door.
“You must at least tell my Lady about this,” she said, and began to go.
“I would rather tell Yrling himself,” I said with warmth. “Do you not think Ælfwyn has enough to worry her without the sport of Toki?”
She shrugged her shoulders and went down the steps. I pulled off my gown and tried to brush the mud from it, and then I paced around the room myself as I had seen Ælfwyn do so many times.
“O, stop it,” I said at last to myself. “It is over, and it was nothing. He will leave me alone, or the next time I will hurt him before he hurts me.”
At the same time I thought of Toki’s last words, when he spat upon the ground and said he did not want me. Perhaps he really would leave me alone now. Then I recalled his final words, ‘Sidroc can have all.’
Could Burginde be right, that the two cousins were betting over me? I felt troubled over all this, and knew I must not give Sidroc reason to think I liked him. I thought of another thing Toki had said, about Yrling giving me to one of his warriors. Yrling too, had spoken to me about Sidroc, saying he was the better man for me. What if Sidroc should ask Yrling for me? I trembled, and trembled the more to recall Yrling’s words to Ælfwyn: ‘Perhaps I should give you to Sidroc.’ Could he then simply give me to his nephew as he had threatened Ælfwyn?
I would not do it; I would not accept it; I would run away. Then I thought, It will never happen; Ælfwyn would not permit it; I need not fear. But the memory of what she had said earlier, that she wished I could be married too, stuck in my mind. Besides, would her voice count? I thought of how Yrling had called her to his side. It was an order, and she needs must obey.
All these thoughts tumbled in my brain, and when Burginde returned with the water I was more and not less alarmed. But this alarm was deep within me, and I spoke not of it.
The afternoon was nearly gone. I bathed, and Burginde took up my russet gown and promised to cleanse it. I dressed and rebraided my hair, and then sat at the table and lit a cresset.
“Perhaps we shall have tapers soon, if the bees have done well,” said Burginde.
“Yes,” I said, but I was not thinking of tapers. I looked up at her and said, “Ælfwyn has been gone a long time.”
“She be in there with the rest of the treasure.” Burginde sighed as she sat down on her stool. “He be enjoying it all.”
I put my elbows on the table and rested my forehead in my hands. “I shall never marry,” I said. “I would rather take the veil if I could find the calling, or live as a spinster.”
“As I do,” laughed Burginde. “Aye, there be worse lives. But do not decide to cut men off so quick as that. There be as many good men as bad; maybe more good than bad.”
I did not answer, and did not raise my eyes.
“You may yet love,” she went on, “when the right man comes along your path; and if you do you will not know how your life got on before him.” She lifted the lid of the brazier and dropped in a few coals. “Can be a good thing to be married, a very good thing, and if you can wed the man you love, ‘tis the best thing in the world.”
I was thinking now not of me, but of Ælfwyn. “Do you think Ælfwyn will be happy?”
She blew out a long breath. “It may be; she has got a good head, and an even better heart. ‘Twas only her sad Fate to meet someone
who caught her fancy, and then have to give up the thought of him to come here.”
I looked over at where she sat. “She truly loves that young man,” I said.
Burginde sighed again. “Aye, but love him or not, it could not be; and she may bear that love for him all her life, but she can no more wed him than she can fly.” She poked at the charcoals. “The Dane seems to like her well enough. And once she has a babe, her longing will be eased.” She stood up and stretched her back. “And her young man himself may be dead soon anyway, for he is known for his daring, and travels with the King to the most perilous battles. Her job now is to make the most of the lot she has drawn, as it is for me or for you. She has health and youth and wealth and beauty, and can do much good. That ought to be enough for one person.” She looked over at me. “And she has me to spin!” At this she made me smile.
Chapter the Twenty-fifth: Dusk Grows to Dark
IT was dark when we heard Ælfwyn upon the wooden steps. She came into the room quickly and went about changing her gown with little more than a simple greeting to us both. Burginde went to help her with her clothes, and watched her with a careful eye.
“Would you like a bath? There be plenty of water, and the tub’s right here,” she asked, shaking out Ælfwyn’s gown and rolling it up.
“No, I thank you,” answered Ælfwyn in a quiet voice. “I washed before I came up.”
The sadness in her answer told me not to ask if she was well. I busied myself putting away a few of my things, and was glad of the dimness of the chamber. Ælfwyn put on a fresh shift and stockings and pulled a blue gown over her head. She went to the ivory casket and pulled forth her new necklace and bracelets and put them on. As she was fastening them she looked at me. “You have changed your gown,” she said.
“Yes,” I answered, and tried to make my voice light. “I went to walk along the village road and muddied it.”
Burginde stood behind her mistress, and I saw her open her mouth to speak. I did not need to interrupt her, for Ælfwyn spoke instead. “Tomorrow we will begin our weaving, and when we cut the first length from the loom we will make another gown for you.”
The Circle of Ceridwen: Book One of The Circle of Ceridwen Saga Page 15