The Circle of Ceridwen: Book One of The Circle of Ceridwen Saga

by Octavia Randolph

  I began to thank her, but she went on as if thinking out loud. “There is much for us to do, and a real lack of cloth. The men need tunics and there is no linen; we will have to buy some until we can grow flax ourselves. I should make a mantle for Yrling from the cloth of purple from my mother; there are many furs here to use for trim.” She stood combing her hair, and did not look at either of us, but went on in her sad and quiet voice. “We alone cannot spin and weave for so large a household. Susa and a few other serving women may be skilled at weaving; we must find out. If not, a few village women could be brought by day to weave, or could weave for us in the village if they cannot leave.”

  Burginde walked over to her and patted her on the arm. “No need to solve all the wants of the burh in one day!”

  Ælfwyn looked at her as if roused from a stupor. “Yes,” she sighed, “there will be time for all. But there is much to do, and now I am the Lady who must order and manage so that all are fed and clothed.” She looked at me and then to Burginde, and smiled. “I would I had taken more care in listening to my mother and grandmother!”

  Burginde laughed. “Ach! Every woman wishes that! But ‘twill be fine; you were always a good help to your mother, and Burginde knows a thing or two as well.”

  Ælfwyn nodded her head. She came over to where I stood. “You are not yourself, for you are never so quiet,” she said, touching my hand kindly.

  “O, I am well,” I said, and then stopped, for I could not think of what I could say that would convince her of this.

  “I am glad you went for a walk,” she answered. “It is hard to be indoors so much. Tomorrow we will both go out, and it will do us good, I know.” She smiled at me. “Spring is nearly here, and with it, warmth and Sun. We will ride out soon together, as you have been asking.”

  “That will bring us both pleasure,” I said, and my heartiness was real this time. “We will learn the countryside, and find favourite places to visit.”

  Her face darkened a moment. “I hope we must not always ride through the village,” she said. “It is too hard to see.” She turned her face away a little. “Somehow I feel a part of it; I mean, of what happened to the women.”

  This gave both Burginde and me a start. “You must never say that!” I began. “What happened to the village has nothing at all to do with you, and never will.”

  “And here the first day you are wed to the Dane, you give so much of your silver to the women!” scolded Burginde. “Ach! If you had only been with me to see their faces and hear their blessing your coming! You had no hand in their grief, and never can.”

  These words seemed to allay her doubts, and she said, “I want to believe this is true. I do not want to become part of their fear.”

  “Show yourself to them, then,” I said. “We should go soon and often to the village, and they will see you as you truly are, and love and honour you.”

  “I hope you are right. I want to go and see them, even tho’ it be hard. Perhaps we will also learn what they are keeping back,” she agreed.

  As we were speaking thus, we began to hear the coming of the men into the hall, and knew it was time for us to go down. I was not glad of it, for I did not wish to see Toki, nor to sit by Sidroc and perhaps feed any thoughts about me he may have had. And I feared that Toki might have told Sidroc about the meeting on the road, and even lied about it to make it something it was not.

  There was no way to stay behind, tho’, for I would not give Toki the pleasure of thinking he had frighted me so bad as that. As we turned into the hall I resolved to look calmly on Toki. But he was not at the table, nor was Yrling. Sidroc sat in his usual place, as did the other men. Ale was on the table, but the food was not yet come.

  Ælfwyn hesitated a bit, but then walked to the table and sat at her place. Sidroc had stood to greet us as he always had, tho’ by now we knew he was the subject of amusement from the other Danes for this courtesy. Still, he did it, but I could not tell if he did so to amuse himself, or really to honour us. He sat down, and did so almost in Yrling’s place, so that Ælfwyn was at his right.

  I did not wish to speak, and was relieved when he addressed Ælfwyn. “You are beautiful, Lady,” he said. “The blue of your dress makes your eyes even deeper, as blue as the waters of my native coast.”

  His voice was serious, and it made me look at him and to Ælfwyn to hear her reply.

  “You do me great honour,” she said, and colour came to her cheeks so that she cast down her eyes for a moment.

  He did not speak again. After a moment had passed, Ælfwyn asked, “Where is my Lord?” Her eye travelled around the hall from table to table.

  “He is with Toki. They will be along soon,” he answered, and he also looked out across the hall.

  I wondered to myself if Toki was talking to Yrling about me. Surely there were scores of things for them to speak of, and I must be the least important. I tried to put the thought out of my mind, but could not.

  As we were sitting thus, the door of the treasure room opened, and out stepped Yrling and Toki. Ælfwyn’s face twisted in dismay as she saw them coming out of the room she had so lately left.

  The two were still talking, and it seemed to be a grave matter. Both men were unsmiling, and when they came to the table took their seats silently. Sidroc moved over and was now very close to me. Another Dane who never spoke to me and scarcely ever looked my way sat at my left, and I slid away so far that I was nearly touching him.

  “Asberg has won your favour, eh?” asked Sidroc, but so softly that only I could hear him. The other man was deep in his cup and paid no mind.

  I moved a little away from the other Dane and said, “No one here has won my favour, nor I hope is anyone concerned with the winning of it.”

  I tried not to look at him. “You are frosty tonight,” he went on. “Strange, since I saw you walk today in the Sun.”

  I turned to him. “You saw me on my walk?” I asked, wondering if he had somehow seen my meeting with Toki.

  He shrugged. “Only when you went out.”

  I was glad of this, for it seemed that he had neither seen nor heard what happened. I did not have to speak more, for Yrling now addressed Sidroc in their own tongue, and they and Toki were soon deeply involved. I would not look across at Toki, but it seemed he was urging Yrling to do something. Sidroc seemed to be listing reasons not to do it, and Yrling considering the different sides, and bringing up new points.

  I listened as the food was served, and glanced over to Ælfwyn. Her face wore a patient look, and she smiled faintly at me. I leaned back away from the table, and she made bold to lean back as well, and I whispered to her.

  “What do you think they speak of?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “It always sounds like arguing, unless they are laughing, and even then it sometimes sounds like arguing.”

  “Do you think we will ever learn this speech?” I hissed, beginning to enjoy myself.

  She was not able to answer, for Yrling suddenly stood up, and she straightened up attentively.

  Yrling called out to the men, and the voices that had filled the hall ceased. He held his arms up, and called out something that made the men respond, not in a cheer, but in answer. Then he went on, speaking at some length, and his face was grave at times, and the faces of the men watching him were grave as well. But then he would say something and grin, and the men would laugh and cheer, and raise their arms. In this way it went on for some time.

  When at last he sat down, he turned to Sidroc with a set face, and spoke to him almost harshly. Sidroc said nothing, only nodded his head.

  I glanced at Yrling and saw Toki grinning and speaking into his ear. Ælfwyn looked over at me, and then at the platter in front of her, and pushed her food about without lifting it to her mouth. I felt in that moment that she disliked Toki even more than I did.

  Sidroc gave a low sigh, and I turned to him. A short laugh came from his lips. “At least now you are looking at m
e,” he said. “Perhaps it takes my defeat to catch your eye.”

  “Your defeat?”

  “Yes, a small one, but any defeat is hard to take,” he said, and his eyes went from me to Yrling and Toki.

  “I do not understand,” I began. “Tell me what happened, and what Yrling spoke of.”

  “Some of our brothers have been at battle in the South, and lost, and Yrling has decided we must send aid to them,” he said, and he looked at me rather closely.

  “At battle in Wessex?” I asked.

  “Yes, in Wessex, but do not fear, it is not at your Lady’s home. This battle was far to the South of that place.”

  “Even farther South?” I asked, and tried not to sound alarmed.

  He smiled. “Yes, they have struck deep into the heart of the Kingdom of Wessex. I think it will soon fall.”

  “But you say this battle was lost.”

  “Yes, for every battle cannot be won, even by us. But mistakes were made afterwards, and that is what concerns me.”

  “What kind of mistakes?” I asked, and looked straight at him. He smiled, and the scar went crooked.

  “It does not matter, for now Yrling has decided to try to make right what should never have been done.” He looked once again over to Yrling, still speaking and listening to Toki. “It does not concern you, and women and war do not mix.”

  I thought of the village women. “No, Sidroc, you are wrong, for war affects women as much or more than men.” I spoke very seriously, and was aware that this was the first time I had used his name.

  He studied my face before he spoke. “I am glad you speak my name. It has been long since a woman used it.”

  I looked down at the table. “Have you also then a wife at home?”

  “No,” he said, “no wife waits for me, or me for her.” Then he said, “How do you know that Toki has a wife? Did Yrling tell you, so you would beware?”

  “I do not need Yrling to tell me to beware of Toki. Everything about Toki makes me wary. But it was he himself who told me he was wed.”

  “He must want you very much if he was honest with you,” Sidroc said, and he almost laughed.

  “He does not want me at all, and told me so, and I do not want him,” I said with some warmth.

  “Then who do you want?” asked Sidroc, and his face had grown quiet.

  “I do not want anyone. I am here to serve the Lady Ælfwyn, not to be wed.”

  “But surely she expects and wants you to marry,” he said. “All new brides want their friends to marry.”

  Here I thought of what Ælfwyn had said to me in the morning, and had to smile. But I could not share that with him, and said, “Why are you always telling me what women want, and how they talk to each other? Do you listen at doors? Or have you known so many women that you know all about us?”

  “No, to both,” he laughed. “But unlike some men I like to think, and one of the things I think about is women.”

  I must have blushed, for he went on. “Not just in the way Toki or Yrling thinks of women. I mean, think of what you might be thinking.”

  “That is what makes you so clever,” I said, but I did not smile.

  “I have need of cleverness, for if I were not clever, men like Toki would take all.”

  I did not speak, and he took up his cup and drank. I drank also, and began to eat again. After a while I resolved to speak, for I wished to learn more of what Yrling would set to rights, and more if I could about the battle in Wessex.

  “You said that you think Wessex would fall.”

  “Yes, for they have won a few battles against us, but they can be worn down. Either we kill them and take what they have, or they flee the field and then pay us rich tribute to leave them alone. So we will win in the end.”

  “They are good warriors, I hear,” I said, and then hoped this was not the wrong thing to say. “I am from Mercia, and we were not always at peace with Wessex,” I added.

  “Mercia or Wessex, Angle or Saxon, it is all the same to us,” he said. He looked at me and began to smile. “You will have divided loyalties, then? Not only between us and the Saxons, but between Mercia and Wessex?”

  I felt confused and did not wish to answer.

  “It is all right,” he said. “I will answer your question anyway. Æthelred of Wessex is a good warrior, which is why he has had victory over us. But he is running out of gold, both to feed and arm his men, and to purchase peace when he has the chance. We, on the other hand, have endless gold.”

  “Then why do you want more?” I asked, hoping that it was not a foolish question.

  “Because gold is never truly endless; there is always the lust for more. Besides, we want more than gold.”

  “What more is there?” I asked, hoping that I would not be shamed by the answer.

  He did laugh, but not unkindly. “Not what you might think of. What we want is land. We want the one thing you Angles and Saxons will not give up so easily, and that is land that we might settle here.”

  “But is that not what Yrling and you are doing? Do you not intend to stay?”

  “Yes, we do, but there are many more of us that want the same thing, and so we need more land.”

  I did not want to ask more; it was clear that the Fate of Four Stones would be the Fate of many burhs if the Danes had their way. I looked over at Yrling, and began to wonder about him. Sidroc watched my looking, and I turned back to him. “Tell me about Yrling,” I said. “Is he an atheling as well as a Lord?” He looked uncertain. “Is he the kinsman of your King?”

  “O, no, he is not. He has become jarl through his prowess in fighting, and through the wealth he has captured, or bargained for.”

  His eyes went to Ælfwyn, and I thought too of the rich tribute she had brought, and thought too of the gold Dobbe had told us that the first bride of Yrling’s had brought.

  I began again. “Around his neck Yrling wears an ornament of silver, shaped like a blunted spear tip. It is the one jewel he wears every day. Is it a sign of rank?”

  Sidroc glanced down the table to where Yrling sat, still speaking to Toki. The silver ornament hung about Yrling’s neck and gleamed in the firelight as he moved.

  “No, all warriors may wear it. It is the hammer of Thor, the thunder God,” answered Sidroc. “It confers great strength, or so some believe.”

  So Thor was Thunor. I recalled my own father and kinsman, and thought of how they had worshipped Thunor the Thunderer as well. It felt strange to remember this likeness between my own people and the Danes. But the hammer was new to me; I could not remember seeing any such ornament before.

  I thought of how Yrling had taken it from his own neck and placed it upon Ælfwyn’s. “When they Hand-fasted, Yrling hung it upon Ælfwyn,” I said.

  Sidroc nodded. “It is one of the hammer’s uses, to consecrate, and to bless a bride.”

  I looked back at Yrling, and felt the better of him, to hear that he had blest Ælfwyn in this way.

  “You do not honour our Gods, yet you do not seem displeased,” began Sidroc.

  I looked at him, wondering how I should answer. I could not speak amiss of the Gods, tho’ it be the error the Prior had told me of. But I did not have to speak, for he went on.

  “Your God seems a sad fellow, and good only for peace.” He said these words slowly, as if he had given it much thought.

  “He is called the Bringer of Peace,” I answered, but I was hesitant to press on, and so finished, “War cannot be all you seek.”

  “No,” he smiled, “we look for peace as well, when we have won what we want and need. But we have Gods for war and for peace, and Goddesses too, to honour our warriors and to bring plenty and pleasure. These Gods were yours as well, but your peoples have largely forgotten them, and speak their names no longer. Now you have only a man hung like a thief.”

  I could not counter this, and did not try. I did not know where to begin. I felt only ignorant and confused.

&
nbsp; He looked down the table at Ælfwyn, and then back at me. “Your Lady is not as the one who proceeded her, always in prayer with a holy man. Yet she is Christian, as you are?”

  I nodded, but felt amiss, as if ashamed. I had prayed little since I had left the Priory, and without a priest nearby, had given up observing even the Sabbath. Ælfwyn rarely seemed to pray, or if she did, did so in private; and never spoke of God unless in anger. Yet I remembered all that was good about my years with the Prior: how he gave freely to all who were needy, how he purchased slaves from cruel masters that they might be free, how he had given me the art of writing and that of sums. All of these things were good, and all, he said, were done in His name.

  Then I recalled Cedd, and the laughter of his timber hall, and the grove of oaks into which he carried me with ewers of honey and sheep’s milk, that I might pour out sweetness for the Goddess Ceridwen, whose name I bore. And I recalled also the sacrifices of pig and cock and sure iron that Cedd himself made to Thunor and to Woden, that he might have victory in battle and at the hunt.

  I looked at Sidroc and at his leathern shirt and his silver armlets and the rings upon his fingers, and in the glinting torchlight thought for one moment I was back in my kinsman’s hall. A great joy took hold of me, for I said to myself, Here is life indeed, and tho’ there be war, there is peace now in this hall, and pleasure. And feeling this, my heart flushed, and Sidroc looked at me without comprehending, but smiled at me a smile I had never seen him give.

  Then did I beat back my joy, for I would not wrong Sidroc and let him think he himself was the source of it. But it was too late, and he touched my hand with his own, and whispered to me.

  “I want you, shield-maiden,” he murmured, and his hand closed over mine.

  I tried to draw back, but tho’ he did not hurt me, his hand held me. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching us, and felt my face flame. He brought his head closer to my own, and spoke so softly that he breathed the words.