The Beast of Caer Baddan

by Rebecca Vaughn

  “The Britisc ridend-” Leola said trying to find her words.

  “They’re dead,” Ead said again. “They cannot punish me for it.”

  “But the other Britisc can,” Leola replied.

  She took the knife from the girl and pointed to the makings on it.

  “See these? These are not scratches, Ead. They are letters, words. They mean things. Anyone of the Britisc can read them and know who it belonged to! They shall know it came from one of those ridends and shall know that we killed them!”

  “They shall not find it!” Ead cried.

  Leola glanced at Erna's horrified face and then into the direction of the girl's stare. She could see a large group of Britisc ridends on horseback, coming in at the entrance to the village.

  “Take it inside,” Leola said, handing the weapon back to Ead. “Dig a hole and bury it deep. Quick!”

  The twins ran inside, frightened enough that Leola was certain they would obey her.

  And now what?

  Leola let a deep sigh of resignation. She knew that she must address the leader of these Britisc redends and convince him to leave, but this was the last thing she wished to do.

  Sometimes things happen for a reason.

  With that thought, Leola walked out to meet the strangers.

  “You there,” one of the Britisc said to her in Saxon.

  He was at the head of the party and more decoratively attired then the rest, so Leola suspected that he must be in command.

  “Yea, good Sir,” Leola replied, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

  “I'm looking for two Britisc ridends who have passed by here.”

  “There have not been any ridends passing by, good Sir,” Leola replied, trying to keep her voice steady and even.

  The man looked on her with a keen eye, as if to hear her whirling thoughts.

  “Perhaps you have gone the wrong way,” she said, “or your friends have gone on to another village and passed this one by.”

  “I am here and am looking here,” the man replied.

  “Well, you waste your effort, for there have been no ridends here.”

  “You Saxons are not to be trusted,” the man said, still studying her face. “I shall search the huts, every one of them. And if I find any trace of Britisc things, I shall cut your heads off.”

  Leola’s heart told her he spoke the truth, and with the many men with him, armored and ready to fight, she knew the village women could not defeat him. If she did not act now, Ead’s secret knife and the odious ridend Raynar would both be found. The whole village would die.

  Give me courage.

  “Who are you to command such a thing?” Leola asked.

  She raised her chin and eyebrows as if to give herself more power.

  “How dare you question me,” the man said, his voice dripping with disdain. “I am Aetheling Iestyn, a Centurion of the Armies of Atrebat. I have been given the authority to search Gewisland by Britu Aetheling of Atrebat.”

  Britu? I know of him. I heard his voice in the other room of the tent. He was angry at Owain for taking me.

  “You do not look like a Britisc aetheling to me,” Leola replied. “You wear simple clothing and armor, and not enough gold. How can I know that you are an aetheling?”

  “And you, a commoner, think you know what an aetheling wears?” Prince Iestyn said, and he seemed amused at the thought.

  “I am a commoner,” Leola replied, “but I have seen the dress of a great aetheling and it was of many colors, and much gold and jewels, and pictures and letters carved into his armor. You would anger him by bothering me, so I suggest you leave.”

  He seemed to enjoy her words as a pathetic joke. “And who was this great aetheling who would be so angered?”

  “My husband, Owain Irael-son Aetheling of Glouia,” she said. “He is an Andoco,” she added this last part thinking it might be important.

  Leola could not have guessed Prince Iestyn's response, for his face turn deathly white and his lip quivered.

  “How do you know Aetheling Owain?” he cried. “What do you mean?”

  “I am his wife,” Leola said. “Here is his ring,” and she showed her open palm up to him to see the large carved ring. “My husband would not like you bothering me. It is best that you leave now and not return.”

  Prince Iestyn gazed at the ring for what Leola thought to be far too long.

  Is he going to leave? Or strike me dead for such impertinence?

  “I shall go,” he said at last. “God keep you.”

  “God keep you, Sir.”

  She watched Prince Iestyn and the knights turn their mounts around and ride away, then let out a sigh of relief.

  “Are you mad!” cried a voice behind her.

  Leola turned to face Fridiswid and every woman in the village with the dryhtcwen.

  “What has bewitched you, that you would invent such a thing?” Fridiswid cried.

  “Drudi said that she leaned on a hazel tree,” Drudi's mother said.

  “No!” another woman cried in horror at the thought.

  “I made him leave, did I not?” Leola said to the dryhtcwen.

  “With such a tale that he shall discover its falsehood and return to kill you for it,” Fridiswid replied.

  Leola thought to contradict her words.

  “What I said was true,” she would answer. “I am married to a Britisc aetheling.”

  But she knew they would not believe her and did not wish to give them more proof of her hazel-tree-faery-curse.

  “He shall not return,” Leola said aloud, with far more assurance then she thought.

  “You fool,” Fridiswid replied. “You have placed the village in jeopardy. You must go.”

  “Dryhtcwen, please,” Redburga said.

  “She has endangered all of us.”

  “It was not she who has a warrior hidden!” Redburga cried.

  “That is a duty!” Drudi's mother cried.

  “And if this Britisc aetheling should have found him?” Redburga asked. “It would be the death of all of us!”

  “Enough!” Leola cried. “Do not argue for me, Aunt. I shall go.”

  Leola walked through the crowd of women, and they made way for her as she went.

  “Are the Britisc gone?” Erna asked, when Leola returned to the hut.

  “Yea,” Leola replied, her words were short and harsh to match the emptiness in her heart.

  “I buried it very deep,” Ead said.

  “Good.”

  Leola picked up her basket and began to fill it with bread.

  “What are you doing?” Erna asked.

  “I must go to Tiwton,” Leola replied.

  “No!” the twins screamed.

  They wrapped their arms around her as if to hold her there forever.

  “You must stay here with us!” Erna cried.

  “You cannot leave us, ever!” Ead cried.

  “I must,” Leola said.

  Redburga opened the door and stepped in. “You are staying, Leola,” she said.

  “I think it would be best if I left,” Leola said.

  “No!” the twins screamed. “Do not go! Stay here! Stay here!”

  “I have pleaded your case to the dryhtcwen.” Redburga said. “She has agreed to let you stay."

  “Oh, Aunt,” Leola replied, “and now I shall have everyone staring at me as if I'm some curse.”

  “Never mind them, Leola,” Redburga said, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I need you.”

  “Very well.” But her heart told her she would not be much longer in Anlofton.

  What if Owain does want me back? Will he come here to get me?

  Leola did not think that she was scared of that. She did not even think she was sad. There had been a hole in her weary heart ever since her parents died. It seemed to her that, no matter where she went or who she was with, she was not home.

  Even before the Britisc had destroyed her parents hut in Holton, it had not been a real home to he
r. It had only been a bitter reminded her of her father's laugh and her mother's smiles.

  Now, here in Anlofton, she would be an outcast, avoided and shunned. The women would hurry passed her and teach their young ones to do the same, as if Leola had contracted some strange infection. Under such ostracism, Leola was sure that the longing in her heart would overwhelm her.

  As she contemplated these things, she came to one certain conclusion. If Owain came for her, she would go with him without any hesitation.

  Chapter Twenty Three: Fare You Well

  The next day brought Drudi over to see Leola.

  “Mother says you lied to that Britisc Aetheling,” the girl said.

  She leaned over the fence and watched Leola and Redburga pick the ripe vegetables and put them in the different baskets.

  “Well, I did lie,” Leola replied. “I told him that the ridends had not been here.”

  She did not mind Drudi's frank conversation, for the girl seemed to be the only one in the village still willing to talk to her. Leola also guessed that Drudi's mother did not approve of the their continued discourse.

  “Oh, I see,” the girl said. “What ridends?”

  “You do not remember the Britisc ridends coming here to water their horses?” Leola asked.

  Leola wondered how anyone could forget the fear of the two Britisc ridends and the horror at their violent deaths, least of all Drudi.

  “No,” Drudi replied, a puzzled look on her young face. “When was this?”

  Leola sighed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “The point is that I did lie and that it was to protect the village.”

  “Oh,” Drudi replied. “But mother said that you said that you were the wife of an aetheling.”

  “Yea,” Leola said, not looking up from her work. “That is what I said.”

  “Is it true?” Drudi asked.

  Leola smiled on the the ring of excitement she caught in the girl’s voice.

  “Yea, it is true,” Leola said, at last.

  “That would make you a dryhtcwen!” Drudi said, and burst into giggles.

  “I suppose…” Leola said.

  “How thrilling!”

  Leola had to laugh as well, thinking of her own shock when Owain first asked her to marry him. She glanced over at Redburga, who was smiling and shaking her head.

  “Yea, I suppose it is,” Leola said.

  “Drudi,” Redburga said, wisely, “how many wives did Giwis Cyning have?”

  “Nine,” the girl replied, promptly. “He had nine wives. I know. Mother told me.”

  “And how many of his wives actually matter?” Redburga asked.

  Drudi hesitated and when she spoke her words were cautious and slow. “Only the first one matters. She is the cwen.”

  “Yea,” Redburga replied. “And what is the likelihood that Leola is this aetheling’s first wife, his cwen?”

  Leola watched the grave truth appear in Drudi's eyes as if some torch had been lit and she could now see.

  “Oh,” the girl said.

  “Yea, Drudi,” Redburga said. “Do not expect Leola to give herself false airs. She is a commoner like us. It does not matter what some Britisc aetheling did six months ago. Now,” and she rose to her feet. “Do not dawdle too long, or your mother shall be over here looking for you.”

  When Redburga had gone into the hut, Leola changed the subject.

  “Tell me, what are you up to?” she asked.

  “Raynar asked me to marry him,” the girl replied.

  “Well,” was all Leola could say.

  She could feel Raynar's cruel hand grab her neck and push her head into the stream. She swallowed hard, remembering the pain and fear, as her nose and mouth filled with water.

  “I like him little,” Drudi continued, “but there are no other men here.”

  That is very true.

  “I doubt I should be the one to advise you, Drudi,” Leola replied. “But this I shall say. You are over thirteen-”

  “I am fifteen!” Drudi cried.

  “Yea. So you can marry, but no one shall expect you to do so until you are twenty. So I would suggest you wait until you feel you are ready to. If it takes you those five years to decide, so be it.”

  Drudi's face beamed. “That is good advice, Leola! Thank you!”

  She went skipping off, and Leola was left with a heavy heart, wondering if she had said the right thing to her.

  Two other girls walked down the road, carrying bundled wheat under their arms. When they came near to the little fount garden where Leola sat, they began to run and scurried past as fast as their feet could take them.

  Leola sighed.

  I really am a curse now.

  Redburga returned to the garden and switched her now empty basket with Leola's full one.

  “Nearly everyone is avoiding me, Aunt,” Leola said. “I suspect that Drudi's mother would be angry if she found out that she was talking to me.”

  “Let them be,” Redburga said. “They will pout but shall soon come around.”

  “I wonder how you managed to convince the dryhtcwen to let me stay.”

  Her aunt was silent, staring off into the distance as if she did not hear Leola's words.

  “Redburga?” Leola said.

  “Drudi was not begot by Eoforhild's husband,” Redburga said at last.

  Leola was surprised but wondered why her aunt would tell her that.

  “Wigmund Earlmann was rather promiscuous,” Redburga said. “and Eoforhild's husband was rather absent. When Eoforhild gave birth to Drudi, everyone knew that the child was the earlmann's daughter. Fridiswid was annoyed with her husband and sought to punish him. She took a lover herself and conceived. It happens a lot, but the dryhtcwen is supposed to be above that. Fridiswid's daughter looks exactly like her, so no one ever suspected that the father was not the earlmann. Only I knew the truth.”

  She stopped, and Leola thought she saw a hint of anger in her aunt's pleasant eyes.

  “Fensalir,” Leola said, absently, putting the whole story together.

  “Yea, my husband,” Redburga replied, with a nod of her head. “And rather proud of it he was.”

  “I am so sorry, Aunt,” Leola said, for she did not know how to reply to such a narration.

  Redburga shrugged her shoulders. “I got my revenge on them both. My next child, Garrick, was the earlmann's son.”

  Leola was shocked for she had never dreamed her aunt would do that, be married to one man and have a child by another woman's man. But then Leola wondered what would happen if she were to meet one of Owain's other wives. Perhaps she would be jealous of them, or they of her.

  She shook her head in bewilderment.

  “My point was only that Fridiswid does not want anyone to know that her daughter is my husband's child.”

  “You threatened the dryhtcwen!” Leola cried.

  She was not sure if she should be horrified or burst into laughter.

  Prince Iestyn was waiting for Britu as he and Swale returned from business in Ceint.

  “Have you been standing there all day?” Britu said, in surprise.

  “No, Prince,” Prince Iestyn replied, looking on Swale, as if unsure what he should say before an audience.

  “Speak up, then,” Britu said. “Did you find the knights?”

  Britu knew that his grief over Owain's death was making him short tempered, but he was too impatient from the journey to hold himself in check.

  “No, Prince,” Prince Iestyn said. “But in Anlofton I did find a girl, a Gewissae woman, who is pregnant.”

  “So?”

  “She says she is the wife of Owain Prince of Glouia.”

  Both Britu and Swale gaped at him.

  “I did not know what to do, Prince,” Prince Iestyn went hurriedly on. “So I simply left and came back here to see you on your return.”

  “You did right, Prince Iestyn,” Britu said, in a daze.

  “What are your orders?” Prince Iestyn asked.<
br />
  “Be ready to ride in the morning.”

  Britu turned and went in through the front doors and Swale had to hurry to keep up.

  “Nothing shall come of it, Clansman!” Britu cried, repeating Swale's words from the spring before. “Now we have a pregnant Saxon! Owain's father shall be furious with us!”

  But he was far more concerned about what his own parents would say than his uncle.

  “This was an unforeseen event, Britu,” Swale replied. “But it was my decision and so I shall take any blame.”

  Britu doubted that his mother and father would consider that. They blamed him for everything under the sun. This was just one more thing for them to be angry with him about.

  “I have Owain's journal with me,” Swale continued. “I shall write a letter to King Irael at once and give him the journal when he arrives, as I am sure he shall come.”

  “And my father and mother?” Britu asked, bitterly. “What do I say to them?”

  “Nothing at all,” Swale replied, his own distress filling his voice. “As I said, it was my choice. I shall tell them myself.”

  “Then I shall ride to Anlofton in the morning and be sure of her identity,” Britu said, hoping that his parents' wrath would be cooled in his absence. “What was her name?”

  “Leola daughter of Hobern.”

  Britu was surprised that Swale should remember and not have to look at the journal entry to be certain.

  “Very well. Leola then,” he said. “What a strange name. There cannot be too many of those around.”

  Swale went to find Britu's parents, and Britu sank into a convenient chair.

  He had known something would happen all along, had been sure of it, and now his mother and father would be enraged. Perhaps Swale would receive the start of it, but Britu knew that his parents would eventually direct their wrath on him, whatever Swale said.

  The sunrise brought Britu, Prince Iestyn, and over twenty knights into the tiny village of Anlof. They stopped by one grass covered hut and inquired after Leola.

  “I'm looking for a pregnant woman who claims to be the wife of a Britannae prince,” Britu said in Brythonic, and Prince Iestyn repeated it in Saxon.