Mistletoe Kisses and Yuletide Joy

by Jo Beverley

  Raef's frown had deepened. None could doubt such oaths and witnesses. "She was attacked on the road? It is no great distance, and no one saw any disorderly strangers about."

  Magnus gestured to the head table, littered with broken meats and bread, and stained with drink. "Come, sit. You do not need to feast, but sit and let us talk about this one thing of which I am innocent. This is Yule, and for Alfrida's sake, I would have the enmity between us be on an honest basis at least."

  At an order, churls ran forward to gather the old cloth, complete with all its mess, and to spread a new one. Magnus and Alfrida sat on one side in the big chairs, Hera and Raef on the other on benches. The seating arrangement was inevitable, but it must be salt in Raef's wounds.

  "We will still be enemies," he said flatly. "You hold my home."

  Magnus leaned back, drinking. "I can perhaps be persuaded to give it up for gold."

  "I will pay you pirates no more gold. I want you gone or dead."

  "Your king does not think that way."

  Raef just shrugged. "Let us talk of Edith, and see if we can find the truth there, at least."

  Hera leaned forward. "Alfrida, did you speak to Edith? What did she say happened?"

  Alfrida took the ale cup given her by a servant and sipped. "She didn't say much, or much of sense. All about Danes, and how they are foul and disgusting, and how men are foul and do disgusting things. She kept wanting to wash herself and wash herself."

  "She did that here too," Magnus growled. "Never seen such a waste of water."

  Raef's hands clenched. "She was always very fastidious."

  With her new knowledge that he hadn't really loved Edith, Hera shared his tangled hurt and struggle. She knew that even now he'd die rather than criticize his wife.

  She looked at Alfrida. "Did your maidservant attend Edith?"

  "Fleda? Yes, why?"

  "Call her. Let's see if she can add anything."

  Soon the middle aged woman was standing nervously by the table. Everyone seemed to want Hera to question her, so she started, "Fleda, you remember when Lady Edith came to Froxton not long ago, having escaped from Acklingham?"

  "Oh, aye, Lady Wulfhera. A sad day."

  "Indeed. Did you see her as she arrived?"

  "Nay, but I was called soon after to help prepare a room for her."

  "And you saw her come to the room?"

  "Aye, Lady."

  "You heard a man here say that when she left Acklingham, she did not move as one who has been physically hurt. What was her state when she came to the room in Froxton?"

  The woman pulled a face, staring into the distance. "Weak, Lady. Exhausted like, which was strange since she'd only walked from here. She collapsed on the bed as if she'd sleep, but then immediately called for a hot bath."

  "Did you see her undress?"

  "Nay, Lady. Her maid attended her."

  "Did you see any blood?"

  "Nay, Lady."

  "Fleda, in the weeks between Lady Edith coming to Froxton, and Thegn Raefnoth returning, did you hear Lady Edith say anything about what had happened to her?"

  "She wasn't one for chatter, Lady, and she mostly just had her woman, Gytha, for company. But I heard from the younger maids that she kept warning them to stay away from men. That men would do foul things to them."

  Hera sent the woman away, wondering how such stories affected a man who had been intimate with Edith.

  Raef, however, showed no emotion when he said, "Gytha might know something, but she returned to Tildwold after Edith's death. She can be questioned, but not now."

  Hera considered what she was going to say, considered all the implications. She couldn't not say it, however. "Did Edith ever actually say she'd been raped?"

  Raef turned to her sharply. "Of course she did. She said it to me."

  "Oh." Despite his anger and possible hurt, Hera said to Alfrida, "What about earlier? When she first arrived."

  "I don't remember. We all just assumed.... After all, Vikings." She glanced at Magnus, and perhaps even blushed. "You think...?"

  Raef seized Hera's arm in a cruel grip. "What are you saying? That she lied about it?"

  Trying not to wince, she met his eyes. "Entered an unreal world, perhaps. Raef, at least think about it!"

  He let her go, but glared. "No one could make up something like that!"

  Hera thought people could make up almost anything if the mental pain was great enough, but she wasn't sure how to express her thoughts without hurting him further.

  Magnus, spoke. "Thegn Raefnoth, you must know well enough how some soldiers run mad during and after battle. In some it is glorious, and we call them berserker. In some it is shameful, and we call them nithing. Some never recover, and their words make little sense."

  "Edith didn't fight," Raef snapped. "Edith didn't see any bloodshed or violence. Edith just opened the gates to you!"

  "But she opened the gates," Hera said, "because she was so afraid. And yet, it took great courage to treat with Magnus."

  "And once they were inside," added Alfrida, "she found herself with no control over her home, surrounded by men she thought barbarians. Men of violence and lusty tastes who made no attempt to hide such things from her."

  Magnus grinned. "Is that a complaint, my plum?"

  She poked him in the chest. "I've grown used to it, but I'm no Edith."

  "Thank Woden."

  Raef lowered his head for a moment, hands tight clasped, then looked up. "Even if this is true. Even if Edith's mind was turned, and she came to imagine things that hadn't happened, she would live still, and be in peace, if not for you, Ravenbringer."

  "Are we all not but the tools of God? Fate lies in His hands."

  "It is your fate to hold Acklingham?"

  "So it would seem."

  Raef, swung to face away from the Dane, but Hera laid a hand on his tense arm. "Raef, can you not accept that it is likely that Magnus did Edith no direct harm? That her pain came from within herself? He wouldn't swear such a mighty oath if it was untrue. Christian or pagan, it's the time of forgiveness. Can you not at least be at peace on that one thing?"

  He closed his eyes, and she could imagine what he was thinking. That if Edith had gone mad in this way, he'd failed her most grievously. After all, it was apparently to him alone that she had spoken directly of rape, perhaps using it as a shield.

  But then he did turn back to the Dane, and hold out a hand. "On this matter, I cry peace with you, Ravenbringer. For the good of my soul, I absolve you of fault in the death of my wife. It was her folly in letting you in here, and mine in not forestalling that."

  The two men clasped hands briefly, and Hera had the frustrated feeling that they could even be friends if a thousand things were different.

  Apart again, Raef said, even with a touch of wry humor, "Now, leave Acklingham and we can truly be at peace."

  "Abandon such a rich prize without gain, Englishman? I'd be a laughingstock. You must pay, and pay well."

  "Never."

  Back to snarling, circling wolves.

  "You must fight for it." The words came out of Hera's mouth without her intending them at all.

  Before she could retract, Magnus shot to his feet, bellowing, "Glima!"

  Chapter Nine

  The hall fell silent again, all turning in keen expectation.

  Glima? Hera stared at the Dane. The world truly had turned mad. Glima was wrestling with no bloodshed attached. An entertaining sport. It couldn't settle a matter such as this.

  And why had she suggested fighting in the first place? She put her hand up to touch the Star. Was it possible that someone holy had spoken through her?

  "Why?" asked Raef, clearly as confused as she was.

  Magnus put down his ale-horn. "I've turned Christian, Englishman, but pagan blood still runs in my veins. Both sides tell me we live in extraordinary days. Perhaps we face Ragnarok or apocalypse tonight. Or at Christmas. Whatever else it may be, this is the thousandth Yule, and I would s
tart the new millennium aright."

  "I thought you were innocent of everything."

  "We all have our fate, and seek to evade it at our peril. I would put mine to the test. We fight for Acklingham?"

  At that, Raef leaped to his feet, stripping off his tunic and shirt to stand naked from the waist up. "I'm more than willing."

  Magnus laughed for joy, kissed Alfrida heartily, and began to strip.

  Raef turned and swept Hera into a passionate kiss. The hall erupted with whistles, shouts, and thumping hands and feet. She emerged dazed, and put her faith in God and his holy mother, though she couldn't see how this was supposed to work out. At the end of the bout, they'd still be deadly enemies.

  "We fight for Acklingham?" said Raef, hands on hips. "But what if I lose? I have nothing to stake."

  "Not quite true," said Magnus, his eyes sliding to Hera.

  Hera glared at him, then glanced at Alfrida, who was glaring too. Did the Danes have the pagan practice of keeping more than one wife? If Magnus tried that, he'd likely find himself neatly divided down the middle. By a blade!

  "The pendant," Magnus said, shaking his head. "Could I even try to handle the two of you? Alfrida has told me the story, that it was touched by the hand of Christ." He came over and reverently touched it. "With that around his neck, a man would be a mighty warrior."

  Hera grabbed it away.

  "It is Hera's," Raef stated, moving closer as if in physical guard. "It is not mine to wager."

  Hera realized that she was putting her own thoughts and wishes first and made herself relax. Thy will be done.

  "I'm willing for it to be a stake. It only comes to anyone for a brief while." She offered that as an honest warning to the Dane, but he just smiled. Perhaps he even winked.

  Had she been right in thinking that Magnus didn't want to keep his prize? Was this all an elaborate plan to give Acklingham back to Raef with honor? She prayed that that be so.

  Her suspicions were strengthened when he said, "You have a song about it, Lady Wulfhera? Would you sing it for us, so that all may understand."

  Hera was willing to do everything she could to help this plan along. She called for a harp, tuned it, and then began the saga of the Star of the Magi. However, for the chorus, she changed the wording slightly.

  Stella mirabilis, come from afar.

  Stella mirabilis, come where we are.

  Stella mirabilis, shine night and day

  Stella mirabilis, come light one Christian's way.

  She even improvised a little toward the end, making Miriam's husband, Alric, a warrior made great by the love of his wife, so that he conquered many lands and brought them into Christian harmony and prosperity.

  "And it is said," she completed, letting the harp go silent, "that the Star of the Magi was swallowed by a fish, that symbol of Christ. And that it will return at a special time of great need. And what greater need could there be than now, as the thousand years turn, and the end might be nigh?"

  She put aside the harp and rose to walk down the long feasting tables, holding the pendant out for all to see.

  "Today, I tell you, the Star of the Magi, that magical pendant touched by the hand of Christ, came to me in the belly of a fish, and this is it. Christ's magic among us. But for whom? I found it, and yet I tell you true, Christ's Holy Mother herself spoke to me in the chapel and told me to bring it to my sister Alfrida, beloved of your leader, Magnus Ravenbringer. Alfrida felt driven to return it to me."

  Men and women leaned forward to peer as she passed.

  "There is a star trapped in there!" one whispered.

  "Magic…."

  "Power to the husband of she who wears it…."

  Some stretched to touch and pray. "Bless me, Christ Child."

  One man, however, seized the pendant and drew a knife to cut the leather thong. "By Woden or Christ, this belongs to my lord!"

  Magnus's bellow had him releasing it, but Raef was faster, and his fist drove the man to the floor. Magnus hauled him up to face him.

  "If I wanted to seize this thing by force, could I not do that for myself, Thorold Svensson?" He threw the man back down. "No, this will be put in the hands of the gods, old and new. Lady Wulfhera, return to the table and sit by your sister."

  Raef rubbed her neck where the thong had bit. "Are you all right?"

  "Of course, though I've been manhandled more this night than in my life."

  He rested his head against hers. "I'm sorry about earlier. Too much bitterness held inside for too long."

  "And now?" she asked.

  "Now? I feel very strange." He moved back and raised the pendant in his hands. "Is this really the Star of the Magi?"

  "I believe so. And I think it can solve all this if we let it."

  He looked into her eyes. "For the first time in an age, I have hope. Hera, you are my sun in the night and my fire in winter, and my precious jewel at all times." Then he gave a strange laugh, and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. "Tears?"

  She sniffed. "I knew you'd make me cry one day, Raef Eldrunson! Go and fight for Acklingham, for I want to live here."

  She escaped to the big chair Magnus had vacated, and not having taken Raef's vow, accepted water to ease a throat dried by singing. She hugged Raef's words to her, but couldn't help a niggling worry that they came from the Star, not truly from him.

  She told herself again that the magic seemed to be permanent, no matter what happened to the pendant thereafter. Then she began to worry about how the prizes could be arranged. Surely usually winner took all, and for there to be peace here, both must win.

  "Now," said Magnus, standing in the central space, hands on hips, magnificent broad chest gilded by flames. "This is how it will be. I place this manor of Acklingham in the test. Thegn Raefnoth places the sacred pendant currently around his woman's neck. The winner of our bout will have first pick. The loser must take what remains."

  Hera tried not to look as relieved as she felt, but she took Alfrida's hand beneath the cloth and squeezed it. Truly the Star was magical and Christ was with them. A solution had been found.

  "Your Magnus is a very clever man," she said quietly.

  Alfrida was practically eating him with her eyes. "Isn't he wonderful?"

  "Will he marry you?"

  Alfrida grinned. "He's going to have to. After all the Star's power only goes to the wearer's husband."

  Hera had to choke back a laugh. "The Star will probably return to the sea soon. What then?"

  "Magnus doesn't truly need its power to be great."

  "And you don't need it to hold him?"

  Alfrida's look was astonished. "Of course not."

  So, it was as she'd thought. Once started, the magic was permanent. Hera settled to watching the wrestling match almost with enjoyment. In glima contestants rarely suffered more than a bruise or two.

  The men took a firm grip of each other's belt with their right hands, then grasped each other's trouser leg with their left so they were locked together. Losing grip was an easy way to lose the match.

  Thus locked, they began to move, trying to force a fall, while never looking down at their feet. That was another way to lose.

  The first whose torso touched the ground lost.

  It was a game that even children played, but she knew pride burned in both to win, and she hoped fiercely that Raef would, even though the result wouldn't matter. If Raef won he would choose Acklingham. If Magnus won he would choose the Star.

  Magnus was bigger, but Raef was almost as tall and strong, and perhaps more agile. As they swayed, trying to hook their opponent's legs away, or twist to throw them off balance, the fire danced golden over sweating, rippling bodies. Magnus had a cross of red hair down his chest. Raef was smooth.

  And beautiful. Definitely more beautiful.

  Knowing she was probably eating him with her eyes, Hera rested her chin in her hands and admired the strong, graceful movements of her beloved's body. She'd seen plenty of it in their younger games, bu
t it was definitely different now. Hot memories stirred. It would be even more splendid by firelight, his body a feast for her eyes.

  Yes, hope danced here.

  Hope of survival.

  Hope of peace of a kind.

  Hope of a future for her and Raef.

  She saw him flick his head and almost be unbalanced. Both men should have taken time to tie their hair back, for it fell into their faces and stuck there, and they couldn't brush it away.

  Hera glanced at Alfrida, and met understanding. They both took a ribbon from one of their braids—one blue, one red—and ran forward to halt the bout. With the men still locked, they combed back their hair with their fingers and tied it. Finishing in both cases with a warm kiss.

  The rapt audience cheered and the bout recommenced.

  A dozen times it seemed one or the other must fall, and yet they kept their feet, just, grunting with effort, cheered by the men who understood the finer points of this sport. Hera suspected that any awareness of Acklingham and the Star had faded from them both.

  Both wanted to win.

  She prayed that Raef would win—it would do so much for his bruised pride—but then she hastily reverted to the prayer, "Thy will be done." God and His Mother were doing excellently thus far.

  Raef loved her. Raef desired her. Surely nothing now could come between them. Her hand hurt, and she realized she was clutching the Star.

  Still she wondered if Raef's love came because of the Star.

  It had only been after she'd worn it outside her clothes that Raef had told her, shown her, his love. What might happen when she gave it up...?

  Suddenly, before her troubled eyes, Raef threw himself to one side, kicking out, and Magnus, after a bellowing struggle, fell to the floor with a hall-rattling thump.

  Raef let go as the other man fall, and raised his fists, bellowing his triumph. Even though their lord had fallen, the hall rocked with cheers for the good bout. After a dazed moment, Magnus leaped to his feet to shake Raef's hand, buffeting him on the back hard enough to stagger him.

  "So now," he said to all, "Thegn Raefnoth has the difficult choice. A plot of land, or the pendant of power."