“It is deep winter,” said the king. “It would be hard to get a messenger through now, particularly after this last storm.”
“Do not let this man take me back!” begged Mairin. “Do not force me into an adulterous state, and imperil my immortal soul, my lord king! If not for my sake, then think of my little daughter who weeps for her mother! I would be a servant in your house before I would go with Eric Longsword again, or slay me now, my lord, but do not force me back with this man!” Mairin bowed her head in submission as if a prisoner awaiting the axman’s blow.
“She shall not return to him,” said the queen firmly.
“Margaret, Eric Longsword is my liegeman,” said the king.
“Malcolm, I will not allow this poor girl to be further abused. Until the truth of her words can be proved or disproved, she will remain with me.”
“Very well, Meg,” the king said quietly. “It will be just as you wish it.” He looked at Eric Longsword. “Mairin of Aelfleah will remain with the queen until this matter can be straightened out.”
Eric Longsword glared at the back of Mairin’s head, but she didn’t see him. Her whole body was awash with relief, and for the moment she was incapable of even rising. “Thank you, my lady,” she said gratefully to the queen, and looking down into the incredibly beautiful face, Margaret knew with unwavering instinct that Mairin was telling the truth. At a nod from the queen, the laird of Glenkirk came forward to help Mairin to her feet.
“Take the lady Mairin to my apartments,” she instructed the laird, and then looking to the abbess of St. Hilda’s asked, “Will you accompany them also, my lady abbess?”
The abbess, an elderly woman with a worn and kindly face, nodded her assent, and moved to Mairin’s side. The trio turned to exit the hall, to be momentarily blocked by Eric Longsword. Automatically the laird’s hand went to his dagger, and the abbess set herself protectively near Mairin.
“You will regret your actions, Mairin of Aelfleah,” Eric said venomously. “You are mine, and you always will be!”
“No,” Mairin said quietly, “it is you who will regret your actions. Josselin will kill you for what you have done.”
He stepped aside then, and they moved past him leaving the Great Hall of the king’s house to find their way to the queen’s abode.
“Puir child,” sympathized the abbess. “What a terrible experience ye hae had. Ye were wise to ask the queen’s aid. Never has there been such a good woman as our Queen Margaret.”
“Bride stealing is one thing,” said the laird of Glenkirk, “but stealing another man’s wife is a foul deed. Yer husband will hae to kill him if he has any honor at all.”
“I wish I could kill him!” said Mairin fiercely, and the young laird grinned at her.
“Child, child,” admonished the gentle abbess, “ye must na say such a thing. Dinna put yer precious soul in danger of hellfire over the likes of a man like that.”
They reached the queen’s apartments, and seeing them safe inside, the laird of Glenkirk took his leave of them. The abbess explained to the queen’s serving women that Mairin was to be the queen’s guest, and then she motioned Mairin to sit with her by the fire while they awaited Margaret’s coming. The young queen did not keep them waiting long, arriving with her mother and sister several minutes later.
“Eric Longsword attempted to cajole my lord, the king, into returning you to his custody,” the queen said with a chuckle. “He but succeeded in annoying Malcolm. You will be quite safe with me, my lady Mairin. Now tell me just how you came to be in this man’s clutches.” The queen settled herself into a chair by the fire facing Mairin, instructing her and the abbess to reseat themselves. The queen’s mother sat by her eldest daughter while her younger daughter sat down upon a stool by her mother, resting her head upon her parent’s knee.
“My husband and I live on the manor of Aelfleah which is close by the Welsh border near Hereford and Worcester. My husband came from Normandy with the king, and being his liegeman, went with him to subdue the recent rebellions in the north.” Here Mairin stopped, and blushed. She felt somewhat uncomfortable speaking before Edgar the Atheling’s mother, but Agatha, realizing her plight, waved her hands and said,
“Do not be embarrassed, my lady Mairin. I have faced the fact, if others haven’t, that Edgar will never be King of England. I dislike all this killing in his name. Go on with your story.”
“The king ordered that his Christmas court be held at York,” Mairin said. “My lord sent for me to come and join him, and I did.” For a moment her eyes were sad with the memory of her trip from Aelfleah. “The devastation was too terrible to behold,” she said simply.
“A king must be strong,” said Agatha approvingly.
“I reached York safely,” Mairin continued. “We celebrated the third year of our marriage together, and Josselin gave me this.” She held up the pomander, which was admired by the other women. “On Christmas morning we attended Mass, and all through the service I felt as if someone were staring at me, but from my vantage point I could see no one, and I dared not turn. Finally when the Mass had been concluded I did turn about, and I thought I saw Eric Longsword, but then he was gone. I told Josselin, and he said that perhaps Eric had sworn fealty to Gospatric or Waltheof, for their men were beginning to reenter the city prior to their master’s submission to King William.
“A royal page came then, and told my lord that the king wished to speak with him. We were leaving early the next day, and the king was busy. Josselin escorted me to our tent, and left his squire, Loial, to look after me. The boy admires me, and I told him he might join me inside if it became too cold. I entered the tent, and it was there that Eric Longsword accosted me, putting an arm about my throat, and threatening to kill poor Loial if I cried out. He said he was taking me with him to Scotland, that I should be his by right. When I said I would not go with him, he hit me in the jaw rendering me quite unconscious. When I awoke we were far from York.”
“How absolutely terrifying!” said the queen’s sister, Christina.
“It was very terrifying,” Mairin admitted, “and the thought that my lord husband would have no idea of where I was, was even more frightening.”
The queen glanced about at her serving women, all of whom had been listening, and were now goggle-eyed by Mairin’s tale. “Leave us, all of you,” she said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, and the women reluctantly departed. “There is no need for any more gossip than this incident will engender naturally,” she said.
“Thank you, my lady,” replied Mairin. “I am so shamed by all of this.”
“How did you first meet Eric Longsword?” asked Margaret.
“My father, Aldwine Athelsbeorn, was sent by King Edward to the emperor, Constantine Ducas, in Byzantium. It was my father’s duty to negotiate a trade agreement between the two countries. My mother and I went with him, leaving my brother, Brand, at Aelfleah. We were in Constantinople over two years, during which time I was wed to Prince Basil Ducas, the emperor’s cousin.”
“You are a princess of Byzantium?” Christina was now very impressed.
“I was once,” said Mairin, “but Basil died unexpectedly in the first year of our marriage so I returned with my mother to England. Eric Longsword was a member of the emperor’s Varangian Guard which is made up of Anglo-Saxons and Norsemen. He escorted our party home to England as he and his troop were due for leave. I was in mourning for my first husband then, and yet he dared to approach me. I rebuffed him. Later he suggested to my brother, Brand, that he would be a good match for me, but Brand laughed and told him no.
“He thought that if I were alone and helpless I should turn to him, so he killed my father and brother in the battle with Harold Hardraade. Then King William overcame Earl Harold, and not realizing that I was legally my father’s heiress . . .” here Mairin smiled. “He did not know that my father had a daughter. So not being aware of my existence, King William sent Josselin de Combourg to be Aelfleah’s new lord, but the manor was my
legacy, and the only dowry I could bring a husband. Josselin and I were at immediate loggerheads. He claimed Aelfleah by right of conquest, I by inheritance. What was worse, the king had charged him to build a castle to help keep the peace. Aelfleah is very isolated, and the main reason for our prosperity over the years has been that we have escaped marauders because no one knew we were there. Josselin wanted to build his castle upon the boundary of our western hills, but I did not want him to do so.”
“But how did you come to be wed?” burst out Christina.
Mairin laughed. “Josselin and I decided that marriage between us was the only solution to settle Aelfleah’s ownership. We went to London with my mother for King William’s coronation, and the king agreed with us. He ordered us married in his presence, and that of his closest friends, and by his brother, Bishop Odo. It was not quite the wedding I envisioned,” she admitted.
“Do you love each other?” the curious Christina persisted.
Mairin’s face softened and her eyes grew dreamy. “Oh, yes, I love him very much,” she said.
“I think that is the most romantic story I have ever heard,” young Christina sighed.
“When did you see Eric Longsword again?” asked the queen.
“Several months after our marriage, Josselin went to aid Bishop Odo at Dover. While he was gone Eric Longsword led Eadric the Wild to Aelfleah. He had told Eadric that I was his betrothed wife, and that we would hold Aelfleah for Eadric.” Mairin had wisely amended her story so as not to offend Edgar the Atheling’s family who were sheltering her. “I was expecting our first child at the time,” Mairin continued. “I lost that baby shortly after Eadric and his raiders left us.” She then went on to explain how, knowing that Eadric and his men would be coming to Aelfleah, she had helped and led her people so that the manor’s harvest was saved instead of being burnt. She explained to the listening women how they had hidden the livestock to prevent their being driven off, and hidden the castle workers and master craftsmen, and sent the young girls to a nearby convent for safekeeping. “The last time I saw Eric Longsword before he kidnapped me from York was as he rode off with Eadric the Wild,” Mairin finished. “I know he probably felt very much a fool, having been publicly proved a liar. I never expected, however, that I should ever see him again.”
“Did he ravish you?” Christina’s blue eyes were wide with curiosity.
“Christina!” Both her mother and her sister spoke simultaneously. Their tones were equally shocked.
“Nay,” said Mairin, “it is all right. That is the strangest thing of all. He did not, but he believes he did.” Mairin turned to the lady Agatha. “Lady, this is not a tale for an innocent girl.”
The queen’s mother nodded, and said to her younger daughter, “You will go to your chamber, Christina, and meditate upon the sin of excessive curiosity and a thoughtless, too-quick tongue.” Agatha’s tone was a severe one, and her demeanor was unsmiling.
“Yes mother,” said the chastened Christina, rising from her place, and then she turned to Mairin. “If I have offended you, my lady, I beg your pardon.”
“You have not offended me,” said Mairin and she smiled at Christina. The girl could not be more than a year younger than she was, but as a married woman with a child she felt so much older.
With a curtsy to her elder sister, her mother, the abbess, and Mairin, Christina left the room.
“Continue on with your tale,” said the queen. “You say that Eric Longsword did not ravish you although he believes that he has? I do not understand at all.”
“My lady queen, imagine for a moment that you are in my position. You have been stolen from your husband by a rejected suitor. That first night you are together sheltering from a blizzard in an old barn. He beats you, and you know, because he has threatened it, that he will next ravish you.”
Mairin’s three listeners shuddered openly.
“When he had finished beating me, he made me disrobe, and he threw me down upon the straw, flinging himself upon me.”
“Ohhh!” The elderly abbess’s eyes were round.
Mairin quickly explained to them how Eric had fondled and kissed her, attacking her not with his manhood, but with his fingers. “He actually seems to believe that each time he does this thing he is coupling with me. It is so strange, but you have no idea how relieved I was each time he forced me to his bed that he did not actually rape me. How could I have faced my husband under such circumstances?”
“He never really once . . .” began Agatha, and then she flushed.
“Nay, lady. Not once, though he believes he has. I would swear it on the Holy Cross!”
“Who is your patron saint?” asked the queen.
“The Blessed Mother,” said Mairin. “My name day is hers, August 15th.”
“It is obvious,” said the queen, “that our Blessed Mother was watching over you, Mairin of Aelfleah. Your escape is nothing short of a miracle. I have believed you from the first, and hearing your full tale, know for certain it is my duty to shelter you from this wicked man. I will see that my husband, the king, sends to England so that your Josselin may come for you, and you may be reunited.”
Mairin burst into tears of relief, and slipping from her chair to her knees before the queen, took Margaret’s hand and kissed it. “How can I thank you, my gracious lady?” she said.
“Stay by my side until my child has been born,” said the young queen. “Your husband will not be able to reach you until the spring, and my child is due then. The ladies of my court are good and kindly women, but they lack education and refinement. I miss these things, for I had them in Hungary, and I had them at King Edward’s court when we first came to England. You are close to me in age, you have traveled, and you are obviously educated. Do you read?”
“Yes, my lady, I do.”
The queen motioned Mairin back to her chair, and said, “Then we shall read together, and discuss what we have read. It will keep me content in these last months of my confinement.” Margaret smiled at her, and Mairin knew she was finally safe.
She was not loath to becoming a member of Malcolm Ceann Mor’s court in return for her safety. The king took an interest in everything that was of concern to the queen, and so Mairin found herself under his strong protection as well. Malcolm Ceann Mor had not survived the civil war of his childhood, his flight to England as a boy of ten, all the years in between, and finally his successful struggle to regain his rightful throne by being stupid. Recognizing in Eric Longsword a man who would not be deterred, he arranged that Mairin sleep in a small chamber within his wife’s apartments.
“Attempt to regain custody of the woman before Josselin de Combourg’s arrival, Eric Longsword, and you forfeit my friendship,” he warned. “I will hunt you down. You will have no place else to hide.”
Mairin settled into her life as the queen’s companion. She was relieved to be safe again, but she missed Aelfleah and her family, but her mother, she knew, would keep Maude safe. Her greatest concern was Josselin. It was going to be very hard for him to accept what had happened. He was such a proud man, but then their love for one another would sustain them. She knew it!
January passed, and on the eve of Imbolc she was amazed to find that the Celtic fires were lit all over Scotland. Indeed, the court made quite a festival of the occasion although the queen did not approve.
“It is not Christian,” she said.
“There is no harm in it,” said Mairin softly. “It is an old folk custom, and we do it at Aelfleah. Over the hills of Wales the Cymri dot the entire countryside with their fires. It is part of our heritage. ’Tis but an excuse to ease the long dull days and nights of winter. Do not forget, my lady queen, that the penitential season of Lent will soon be upon us.”
Halfway through February, Mairin found herself growing ill in the morning, and beef, her favorite meat, became repugnant to her. Having faced such a condition twice before, she realized that she was once more with child. A child conceived during that passion-filled night in
York with Josselin. Their son! This was their son! She just knew it! Protectively she placed her hands over her flat belly.
“I am with child,” she told Margaret. They had become friends now, even sharing secrets about their husbands.
The queen was delighted. “How fortunate you are that you did not miscarry of him while you were in that awful man’s clutches.” The queen did not even consider the possibility that Mairin might have lied to her about Eric Longsword, and that the child was his.
Mairin nodded. “He was so newly conceived too,” she said. “Aye, my lady, I am lucky, but if you believe the Blessed Mother protected me from Eric Longsword, then she also protected my son. I know it is a son! William de Combourg. That is what we plan on naming him. Before Maude was born we decided that a son would be William, a daughter Maude. What will you call your son?”
“Edward,” said Margaret, “after King Edward who was so kind to us when we were children at his court.”
Mairin made no attempt to conceal her condition. Indeed, she was proud to be once more with child, for she and Josselin desired a large family. The hardest thing was not being able to tell him, and not being able to share her news with Eada. She said a silent prayer of thanks for her mother. Because of Eada she knew that her daughter would be well taken care of and safe.
The laird of Glenkirk had taken it upon himself to squire her about. His name was Angus Leslie, and she was very grateful for his company within the Great Hall of the king’s house, for Eric Longsword had not been forbidden the court. A day did not pass that she did not see him glowering at her from someplace within the hall. Until Josselin came and proved her truthful, she was forced to bear his presence.
Angus Leslie did not like Eric. “The man has the look of a coward to me,” he said to Mairin one afternoon as they strolled out-of-doors in Margaret’s little garden. There was still snow upon the ground, and the skies were threatening more before the day was out.
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