Born of the Sun

by Joan Wolf

  "I know. But my father may strike the decisive blow for him."

  Niniane's small white teeth bit into her lower lip. Ceawlin would not like that either, she thought, and the thought was plain on her face for Sigurd to read. But all she said was, "I can well see it was not the time to tell him about Wynne."

  "No." His eyes on her upturned face were oddly still. His voice was perfectly normal, however, as he added, "But he had to know sometime. He will get them married, Niniane. Do not worry. Everything will be all right."

  A beautiful rose color flushed into her skin along the lines of her cheekbones. "How could I have been so stupid as not to tell him what I suspected!"

  He raised his hand as if he would touch her, then dropped it again. His mouth tightened. "Stop blaming yourself." His voice sounded short. "It was as much Ceawlin's fault as yours."

  Niniane caught the change in his voice and thought he was annoyed with her. "I'm sorry, Sigurd," she said apologetically. "I did not mean to bore you with my guilty conscience. You are wanting to go to Ceawlin and I am keeping you." She gave him a small smile to indicate that he could go without hurting her feelings.

  "You are not boring me. You could never bore me." Now he sounded angry. "I just do not want you to think you have failed Ceawlin. You have not."

  Niniane's smile became more genuine. "Thank you, Sigurd, for trying to cheer me up. You are a good man." She reached up to touch his cheek with gentle fingers. Then she sighed, put her hand on the door, said, "I had better go and get something to clean up this mess," and was gone.

  Sigurd stayed on in the chamber for several more minutes, his eyes on the smashed pottery on the floor, his fingers on his cheek.

  Ceawlin had an extremely unpleasant interview with Penda, who said the same things to him that Sigurd had said. "You have a woman here, Prince. For how long did you expect the rest of us to do without?"

  The truth of Penda's words only made Ceawlin more furious. He controlled his temper, however, and got Penda's agreement to marry Wynne. Then he went to Naille's farm, where he stayed the night, and the following day he and Naille together called on Wynne's parents.

  "Yes, it will be all right," he said to Niniane irritably when finally he returned to Bryn Atha from his rounds. He had gone into their bedroom to change his tunic, and found her there, feeding Cerdic. "They agreed to the marriage. A Christian marriage, of course, so it cannot be done until the summer. It is costing me a big fine in gold, I might add." He pulled his good tunic, one Niniane had recently finished making for him, over his head and threw it on the bed. Then he went to the clothes chest to get his old one. "This has been a lesson to me, though," he said as he bent over the chest. "I cannot keep the thanes idle any longer. Next week we take to the war road."

  Her body jerked with surprise and Cerdic lost the nipple. "All right, love," she said to the baby as she replaced him at her breast. Then she told Ceawlin, "But Sigurd told me that Cutha was going to lead his own war band."

  "I don't care what Cutha is going to do. I will have to set my hand to what is available to me right here. I cannot challenge Edric to battle, that I know. But I can take some vils, perhaps even pick up some ceorls who are tired of the farm and wish to see what the life of a thane is like. That is one way to increase my war band."

  Niniane stared at him as he put on the second tunic. She longed to cry out that he should not go, that he should wait for Cutha, that it was madness to think some two dozen or so men could successfully defy the army of Winchester. But she said nothing. He would do what he felt he must do, and nothing she could say would make a difference.

  "Bertred is interested in Meghan," she said instead.

  "Well, that decides it then. I will get them away from Bryn Atha. We will raid some vils and collect some women. Otherwise I will be spending my life facing the irate parents of Atrebates girls!"

  Niniane's mouth fell open. "You are going to bring women back to Bryn Atha?"

  He was buckling his sword belt over the tunic. "You will have to find some place to house them."

  "Are you planning to turn my home into a brothel?" Her voice was shrill with outrage.

  He finished with the buckle and looked up. "Do not argue with me on this, Niniane. Sigurd and Penda are right. It was unreasonable of me to expect Saxon thanes to live like your gelded priests. I shall raid a few vils—Saxon vils ... do not worry, I won't bother your precious Britons— pick up some women, and perhaps some men for the war band. That will enliven the thanes a little and let them know that they have chosen a lord who knows how to look out for their welfare."

  "You will scandalize the Atrebates if you bring such women here," she said. "Christians have a very different view of such things."

  "Well, then, they will have to be scandalized. I have sworn not to interfere in their lives, so let them not interfere in mine. I must have women for the thanes, and there is an end to it." He picked up his sword, which he had dropped on the bed along with his good tunic. "Tell your people the women are here to work in the kitchen. The gods know you have certainly whined enough that you don't have sufficient help! Now you will have some." And he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  "Cutha has not gone to join Ceawlin after all." Edric was speaking to Guthfrid in the privacy of the queen's hall one wet and blowy afternoon in March. "He is at Banford."

  "Banford?" Guthfrid's slim shoulders were very straight as she sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her husband. "What is he planning? Does Cutha desire the kingship for himself?"

  "He says not. He has declared for Ceawlin. But it is certainly strange, the fact that he has not joined forces with the bastard. The eorls do not like it. They do not trust Cutha. Nor do I. He has known power for too long to relinquish it lightly."

  "How many men went with him?"

  "Fifty."

  Guthfrid raised a thin, arched eyebrow. "You have three times that number."

  Edric smiled with satisfaction. "I know. Cutha thinks he is a war leader, but all his successes came under the direction of Cynric. We shall see how he does on his own, and outnumbered three to one."

  "You will go after him?"

  "I will go after him. And quickly, before he has a chance to prepare his defenses or change his mind and join with Ceawlin." Edric patted the queen's shoulder with his thick, callused fingers. "It could not have fallen out better," he said. "With Cutha and Cuthwulf out of Winchester, I no longer need to fear the knife at my back. Now I can take a full war band on the road. And once I have dealt with Cutha, we shall turn north and finish Ceawlin once and for all."

  "Bring Ceawlin's head home to Winchester," said Guthfrid, "and I will lay it as an offering on Edwin's grave."

  There were a number of Anglo-Saxon settlements in the valley of the upper Thames, established by settlers who, since the time of Arthur, had come up the river valley from Kent or along the Icknield Way from East Anglia. It was an area of Britain that had not yet been successfully claimed by any of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, and this was the place Ceawlin chose for his first raid. "I have sworn to increase the borders of Wessex, to make her equal with the other English kingdoms," he said to Sigurd when first he told his friend of his plans. "We will start with the upper Thames. I hear the land there is rich, the farms prosperous. Let them swear allegiance to Ceawlin of Wessex."

  Gereint and his friends wanted to accompany the Saxons, but Naille refused to allow them to go. It was one thing to fight when their own land was being threatened, he said, and quite another to fight for the expansion of a Saxon kingdom. Ceawlin had accepted his refusal with perfect good humor and even reprimanded Gereint for protesting his father's decision.

  The war band left Bryn Atha on a chill overcast March morning and Niniane saw it off with ill-concealed resentment. The thought of Ceawlin's bringing women into Bryn Atha was eating like acid into her heart. He knew how she felt but he did not care. He needed women, "and there was an end to it." They parted with each one feeling the other was being u
nreasonable.

  Ceawlin thought that she was being a prude. It was not that at all, she thought as she watched the last of the war band ride out the gates of Bryn Atha. She had lived for too long in Winchester to be outraged by the easygoing morals of the Saxons in regard to sex. The thanes could bed a hundred Saxon girls for all she cared. It was Ceawlin who was on her mind. She could not forget Cynric and the women's bower: the harem that had existed solely for the pleasure of the king.

  What would she do if Ceawlin should take one of these women into his bed? The very thought drove her into a blind and jealous fury. She had never thought of herself as a possessive person, but with Ceawlin ... She was not like Fara, she thought despairingly as she turned to go back into the house. She was not made to love and share. She could not stand by and watch another woman ... she could not even think about it without her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides.

  He would not do that to her.

  But in this, as in so many other things, the gap between pagan and Christian was wide. He would not do that to her, she told herself as she buried her face in the comforting baby-smell of Cerdic. But she was not sure.

  * * * *

  Ceawlin was gone for almost two weeks, and when he rode back into Bryn Atha it was with a herd of cattle and an additional ten men for his war band, but no women.

  "What happened?" It was Sigurd whom Niniane asked about the raid, managing to get him to herself while Ceawlin was seeing to the disposition of his new men and beasts.

  "The country up there is very rich," Sigurd replied. "British and Anglo-Saxon farms stretch all over the valley. They had no idea that we were coming, of course, and no time to organize resistance. We marched from farm to farm, and the mere sight of an armed war band struck terror into their hearts. Ceawlin treated them very gently. He declared himself their king and exacted a tribute of cattle. He also wooed a group of the less prosperous farmers' sons with promises of glory in Winchester. They are the ones we have brought back here with us."

  Niniane listened with concealed impatience. She was not interested in the men. "I thought he was going to bring women back also, Sigurd. He told me you were right, that it was unreasonable of him to expect his thanes to live like celibates."

  "Oh, the women. Yes, there are some women coming. One of the East Anglian settlers had several East Saxon women slaves. Ceawlin bought them. It was a better policy than taking freewomen, he said. Ceawlin has hopes of adding that country to Wessex permanently. The land is really very rich."

  "Where are these women now, Sigurd?"

  "Not far behind us." Sigurd grinned. "Ceawlin put Penda in charge of them. Penda was furious."

  "How many are there?"

  "Five, I believe."

  "I don't know where I am to put them," she muttered, her brow dark with rebellion.

  "Put them in the thanes' quarters," Sigurd answered cheerfully. "They can keep the place clean. They were kitchen sluts for the Anglian, so they will be able to help you with the cooking and the gardening as well."

  Niniane stared at his smiling face, her eyes gray and stormy. "I think you are disgusting," she said. Slowly and clearly. And watched his smile dissolve to a look of surprised shock. "Disgusting," she repeated emphatically. She left him standing in the middle of the sitting room with the silly look of surprise still on his face.

  The women arrived several hours after the men, escorted by Penda and one of the younger thanes. Ceawlin had disappeared with the rest of the men and the cattle, so it was left to Niniane to greet the new arrivals. Penda turned them over to her care with almost comical relief.

  There were five in all, two middle-aged women and three girls. They spoke East Saxon, which was a slightly different dialect from the one spoken in Winchester, but Niniane was able to understand most of what they said. She made out that two of the girls were sisters, daughters of the eldest of the women and the Anglian who had sold them. Slavery had not been practiced among the Atrebates for years, and Niniane was horrified by the way these women had been treated.

  The women, however, did not seem unhappy with their fate. They were impressed by Bryn Atha. They were impressed by Penda. They were impressed by the silver-blond king who had bought them. None of them seemed perturbed by the suggestion that they live in the thanes' quarters. Niniane escorted them there, her face stony, and found them a room by the simple expedient of tossing the belongings of the thanes who had formerly occupied the room onto the floor outside the door. "You can live here," she said, looking around at the planked wooden walls Ceawlin had put up over the old crumbling plaster.

  The women were impressed by the thanes' quarters. Niniane sniffed and wrinkled her small upturned nose, noticing indoors what had gone unnoticed outside. They smelled. "I will fix a tub of hot water for you in the kitchen," she said ominously to the greasy-haired women who looked at her with such pleasure. "You all need a bath. And clean clothes. Come with me."

  The Saxon women had never in their lives been submerged in water, and protested vigorously as Niniane relentlessly forced one after the other into the large wooden tub she had Amena set up in front of the kitchen stove. Amena also assisted with the scrubbing; indeed the British woman seemed to get an almost fiendish satisfaction out of the amount of dirt she scoured out of Saxon skin. By the time she finished, the women's complexions were glowing bright red. Then Niniane gave them clean clothes to put on, and combs to pull through their hair. They were miserable, but they were clean. The two sisters were even pretty. Once their hair was combed, Niniane put them to work cooking the dinner and went to her own bedroom to feed her son.

  Cerdic was there, lying unswaddled and kicking with delight on the bed, but it was Ceawlin who was playing with him, not Meghan. Niniane stared at her husband's back, and bitter gall rose in her throat. "Those women were filthy," she said in a cold, hard voice.

  He was bent over the delighted baby, tickling him. He did not turn around when she came in, but continued to play with his son. "I know." His voice sounded unconcerned. He knew, of course, how she felt on this subject. "I thought they would clean up decent, though. Did they? I heard the screams and splashes from the kitchen and thought you must be working on them."

  "They had bugs."

  "I imagine they did." He was still bent over the baby, not looking at her.

  She could withhold it no longer. Her voice, now low and trembling, came from somewhere behind her clenched teeth. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides. "Ceawlin, if you so much as lay one finger on any of them, I will murder you."

  At that he straightened up from the bed. The blue-green eyes opened wide as he took her in. A slow smile spread over his face. "Nan. You're jealous."

  "I am not a Saxon wife," she answered fiercely.

  He picked her up and sat down on the bed next to the baby, holding her in his lap. "No, you're not, are you?" He began to nuzzle her throat. "I have no interest in those women," he said. "They are for the thanes. I have enough to keep me busy right here."

  She slid her arms around his neck and twined her fingers into his hair. His lips moved lower. The baby felt a pang of hunger and screamed. Ceawlin cursed and looked up. She smiled at him.

  "Tonight," he said, and she kissed his mouth before picking up Cerdic to be fed.

  * * *

  Chapter 19

  Ceawlin and his men were home two days when the thanes from Banford arrived at Bryn Atha. Wuffa, the sentry on duty for the Corinium road, was the first to see them. When first he spied the obviously Saxon group he thought it was Edric again, and then he recognized the men as belonging to Cutha. He rode down the hill on which he was hidden and walked his horse onto the road. The little group raised their spears when they saw the mounted figure, then someone shouted, "It's Wuffa!" and all the spears dropped.

  "Ine," Wuffa said, his eyes falling on the man who stood at the head of the weary group. "What happened?"

  "Edric surprised us," came the grim reply. "Cutha was not expecting him so soon. He
came at dawn and we were not ready."

  "What of Cutha?"

  "He got away. But we left a good twenty men dead in the farmyard before we ran for it. We were but fifty and they numbered at least two hundred. We hadn't a chance."

  "You are heading for Bryn Atha?"

  "Yes. We lost contact with Cutha and the others and so I thought our best chance was to come north and hope to find Ceawlin. I was at Bryn Atha with Cynric and thought I would remember the road."

  "You did. Follow me and I will take you there."

  Ine looked up at Wuffa's mounted figure. "Would you mind if Erick rode your horse?" he asked. "He was wounded at Banford and has been finding the going hard."

  "Of course not." Wuffa dismounted immediately and Ine boosted his comrade into the saddle.

  "How many miles to Bryn Atha?" Ine asked as he walked along beside Ceawlin's thane.

  "Eight."

  "And someone is always on watch here?"

  "Yes. Here and on the road to Calleva. That is how we spied Edric coming last year." Wuffa forbore to point out that Ceawlin had not allowed himself to be taken by surprise. He did not think he needed to. The point was clear enough to anyone with eyes.

  "You look well," came Ine's next comment.

  "We have been very comfortable," Wuffa said. "In fact, we have just returned from a raid to the north. The prince wanted to claim the valley land there for Wessex. We brought a herd of cattle and some women back to Bryn Atha."

  "I see," said Ine.

  "We shall have you all comfortable in no time," Wuffa promised cheerfully.

  Ine looked back at the fourteen tired men he was leading. "That will be nice," he answered, and sounded as if he meant it.

  * * * *

  There was not enough room in the thanes' quarters for fifteen more men, so Ceawlin put the new arrivals in one of the storage barns he had cleaned out over the winter for just such a purpose. Niniane washed and bandaged Erick's wounded shoulder and served up a hot meal for all the thanes in the main reception room of the villa. There was not space enough in the dining room to accommodate them all now.