The Beast of Caer Baddan

by Rebecca Vaughn

  “Yea, Mistress,” she said.

  “That is a nice name,” Leola said, with a pleasant smile.

  Gytha looked up at her in surprise.

  “I like it, Mistress,” she said. “It makes me feel special.”

  “Do you have family?”

  “They are dead,” Gytha replied.

  Leola felt a kindred to her at once. “My parents too,” she said.

  “I'm sorry, Mistress. Were you very young?”

  “No. Not very.”

  They talked on about family, harvest, and mead halls, and Leola felt herself at peace for the first time since she came to Venta.

  The steward entered to announce King Irael's arrival at the castle of Venta, but Britu saw at a glance that his uncle was not to be delayed even by etiquette.

  “What is this that you now write me?” King Irael cried.

  His eyes found King Gourthigern, and Britu sighed in relief that for once he was spared someone's rage.

  King Gourthigern tried to give their clansman a greeting, but King Irael would hear none of it.

  “My son has a wife, and you wait to tell me?” he cried.

  Britu had never seen his uncle angry and had to be impressed by the horror the king placed in the sitting room. King Gourthigern, King Emrys, Swale, great warriors of the highest renown, stood shaking in fear.

  “I do not think-” Swale tried to say.

  “You do not think, Sir!” King Irael cried, turning on the prince in a vengeance. “You thought nothing! Nothing at all! I am his father and you failed to inform me that he married!”

  “A grave error, Brother,” Queen Severa said, her low voice gentle as if to sooth him. “But think on the blessings. Swale said that Owain had foretold his death. He must have realized how it was, having no heir, and thought of you first, and your line, and married to give you a grandson in place of a son.”

  “And now everyone shall call him perfect in heart,” Britu said under his voice.

  “He did always think of family above everything else,” Swale replied.

  Britu glared at Swale. He loved Owain but he refused to listen to pretty versions of the story that made his cousin out to be a saint, who gave his clothes to the poor and rescued injured baby animals.

  “Of course,” King Irael said, actually calming down from his sister's words. “And now I have an heir, or at least, I shall soon have an heir.”

  “King Irael,” King Emrys said. “I have long wished to repay the debt I owe to Prince Owain. Allow me to adopt this common woman for you. My wife and I shall look after her until the birth-”

  “Certainly not!” King Irael cried. “You think that now that I have a pregnant daughter-in-law, that I shall part with her?”

  “Clansman,” King Gourthigern said. “We are not now sure that this is Owain's child.”

  “Do not be silly. It is Owain's,” King Irael replied.

  King Gourthigern glanced at his wife as if beckoning her to speak.

  “She seems too far along in her pregnancy, Brother,” Queen Severa said, at last. “She says she is in her sixth month and looks as though it should be her ninth. We cannot be sure of the child's paternity until the birth, assuming that the child will resemble Owain.”

  Britu was sure that Leola's words were true, that she was in fact only six months along and that her baby was Owain's, for he had seen it in her face. Yet she was a Gewissae, and

  therefore he would not defend her against his parents' ill tongues.

  “Nonsense!” King Irael cried. “I shall hear no more of it!”

  “But let us be of some assistance,” King Emrys said.

  “Very well,” King Irael replied. “If you wish, stand at the dedication. I would be proud to make you the godfather.”

  “Of course,” King Emrys replied in haste. “I shall.”

  “Good. Now get my daughter-in-law.”

  “I shall go with you to Baddan,” Queen Severa said.

  “Come, if you please. Only bring her down here.”

  When his mother left, Britu ventured a word.

  “Uncle, forgive my speech,” he said “but I must question the wisdom of recognizing a Gewissae commoner as the wife of an Andoco prince.”

  “Well said, Britu,” King Irael replied. “But think on this, what is a commoner, or a knight, or a chieftain? It is all lowly. All of the women he seduced were lowly. Poor, lowly, and ill-educated. Anyone of them could have been a wife instead of a lover as much as this one. I shall only thank God for this one and not care of her birth. I have nothing to lose from recognizing her marriage. It is not as though she would become Queen of Glouia. My son is dead and shall never have the honor of being king, so you need not fear of that.”

  “True, Uncle,” Britu said. “Yet the honor of the clan-”

  “And what would they say for a woman that they shall likely never see? I need a legitimate grandchild, and God willing it shall be a boy.”

  “But, Uncle,” Britu said. “You must also understand that Owain never considered qualities in a woman that might make her an ideal wife.”

  King Gourthigern gave Britu an angry look, as if to say, “Do not speak of your cousin in such a way!” but Britu was already talking and would not still his tongue.

  “He had been deceived before,” Britu said, “and unfortunately never seemed to gain any lesson from it. We do not know if this Gewissae may prove to be just as self-serving as

  Gratianna's arrogant mother was.”

  “True, true,” King Irael said, thoughtfully. “But remember that a commoner is never in a position to barter. She is already married, and therefore I do not have to give her anything. In all likelihood, she shall be far too frightened to make demands. Now, do not trouble yourselves with dissuasion. I shall not be moved.”

  Britu doubted that Leola was scared of anything, but understood his uncle's reasoning. He only hoped that King Irael's kind heart would not stop him from locking Leola up in Baddan out of the public eyes.

  Queen Severa soon returned with a young woman behind her.

  “Brother,” she said to King Irael, “this is Leola daughter of Hobern.”

  “God keep you, Leola,” King Irael said in Brythonic. “I am Irael, Owain's father.”

  The servant girl came in behind them and translated his words into Saxon.

  Leola replied in kind with Saxon words, and the servant repeated it in Brythonic.

  “I shall take you to Caer Baddan, to the place where Owain was born,” King Irael said. “My sister, Queen Severa, shall accompany us.”

  “Baddan,” Leola said.

  Britu was surprised to see recognition in her eyes at the mention of that city.

  “Ie, to Caer Baddan,” King Irael said. “Now, friends and family, this is my daughter-in-law, Leola, and from now on, she shall be called Princess Leola as she is the widow of a prince.”

  Britu watched Leola's face to see what she thought of it. He wanted to pick some devilish intent from her eyes, some deception from the corner of her mouth. Anything that would justify him calling her a liar. Yet there she stood, both humble and honest, and he was forced to be silent.

  The whole situation played out before Leola as if she was not really a part of the commotion. They seemed to believe that she knew what was going on and therefore failed to explain anything to her.

  King Irael introduced each person one by one, even those whom she had already met, and explained their relationship to Owain to her. They in turn greeted her, giving her a strange

  combination of respectful nods and disapproving eyes.

  Suddenly, Leola felt her confusion lift like a dark storm cloud dissipating within her head, and she understood everything.

  I am Owain’s first wife! I am his only wife! I am his cwen!

  She had explained away Owain's actions by telling herself that he had many wives already, and that one more was nothing to him. But now she realized that she was the only one. And if she was Owain’s cwen then, girl or boy
, her baby would be his heir.

  No wonder that Iestyn Aetheling was so shocked when I said that I was Owain’s wife! My baby shall rule Glouia!

  The thought made her smile from both pleasure and relief. She did not have to fear jealousy or hatred from other wives. She did not have to worry about her child being second to another full Britisc heir. She was all, and her baby was all, that Owain had.

  Leola caught sight of Britu’s judging eyes.

  Why does everyone stare at me?

  But at that moment she did not care what any of these people thought of her. She was Owain's cwen. Nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Twenty Seven: Journey to Caer Baddan

  The carriages were prepared for the next day, and King Irael planned to leave at the midmorning sun.

  Britu knew that it was nothing to his mother to go, for she was a strong woman, but he felt that she should not.

  “He is my brother,” she said to him.

  “And when our clan should hear of this Gewissae woman and reject her child as an

  Andoco?” Britu said. “Should we too be connected with the humiliation?”

  “That is the way Aurelius will have it,” the queen replied. “That is the way it must be.”

  Leola did not mind the journey but prayed that it would be the last travel. She rubbed her growing belly and lay back on the cushions.

  “Are you comfortable, Mistress?” Gytha asked.

  It still sounded a strange title to Leola, for she had always called others “mistress” and “master” but had never been addressed that way herself.

  There is much I shall have to get used to.

  “Yea. As much as I can be,” she said aloud. “My back hurts from walking up and down all those silly stairs and my feet are swollen.”

  The carriage jerked, throwing Gytha against the wooden wall.

  They laughed.

  “Are you all right?” Leola asked.

  “Yea, Mistress,” Gytha replied, still laughing. “And you?”

  “I hope all this moving about does not bring me to labor."

  “Why not?” Gytha said. “That baby has gotten so big, I should think it was time."

  Leola look down at her growing belly and her eyes soften at the thought. “He is big, isn't he? But no. I have three more months at least."

  “I suppose he may turn out to be a giant."

  They laughed again, but Leola secretly knew how true those words might be. Owain had towered over her like an oak tree. It was possible that his child may grow to be the same way.

  The rough road became too much for Leola.

  “I think I shall be ill,” she moaned.

  Gytha rapped on the front to tell the driver to stop, and Leola heard the entire

  caravan come to a halt.

  “What are you doing?” Leola gasped.

  “I'm supposed to look after you, Mistress,” Gytha said. “Come on. You need air. It would not do for you to faint.”

  Gytha stepped out and then she and one of the guards took Leola by her arms and brought her out to the grass.

  “Now just breath and relax,” Gytha said. “Do you want to walk around?”

  Leola was so relieved to be out of the carriage that she did not find words to speak and simply nodded her head in affirmation.

  They walked around in small spirals. Leola felt her larger body weighing heavily on the smaller girl, but Gytha did not seem to notice.

  “Are you any better?” Gytha asked.

  “The fresh air helps,” Leola replied. “At least I have stopped vomiting.”

  “You have been vomiting, Mistress?”

  “I had been every day for a few months and sometimes more. It is so strange that walking around should make me feel better. My feet are so swollen.”

  Leola remembered how her ankle had been twisted and swollen, and how she had to limp everywhere.

  Can I do this for three more months?

  “It shall be all the more rewarding when you hold the child in your arms, Mistress,” Gytha said.

  “Yea,” Leola replied. “Call me Leola, Gytha.”

  The girl stared at her in horror.

  “I could never!” she cried.

  “No one can understand us,” Leola said, with a smile. “I should feel more myself.”

  “I could not, Mistress,” Gytha replied.

  Leola decided not to press the issue but she hoped that the girl would change her mind.

  She glanced up at the road to see Queen Severa peering out of her own carriage.

  Why are you glaring at me? What is it that you think I have done?

  “I wish I was back in Anlofton with my aunt,” she said aloud.

  Gytha gave her an encouraging squeeze on the arm.

  “Better help me back in the carriage,” Leola said. “I think this must be a very long

  journey.”

  Leola's assessment proved correct, for although the road was smooth and afforded few turns along its course, it was late in the evening before the caravan arrived at their destination.

  Baddan, was no more grandiose then Venta had been before it. The stone walls, iron gates, and long linen banners attested to its grandeur. But Leola's curiosity of the place was heightened by Owain's reference to it. She marveled at it, and hardly thought to compare it to the city she had left behind.

  The castle was open and stately, as if it expected dignitaries from the far corners of the

  island to visit there. Each room connected to another by a grand arched doorway and large heavy doors, and the gray stone walls were covered by colorful drapes.

  “I think this is the most glorious place I have ever seen,” Leola said.

  “Good,” King Irael replied, when Gytha had translated the words into Brythonic for him. “From now on it shall be your home. Now, this is Tuathal, the steward,” and he indicated a well-dressed servant standing nearby. “He shall show you to your rooms. If you need anything, he shall get it for you. Severa, a moment.”

  King Irael directed his sister to one of the sitting rooms off the side of the front hall, and Leola's eyes followed them as they went.

  What are you going to talk about? Owain? Me? My baby?

  “Princess?” the steward said, indicating that she should follow him.

  It seemed an easy title on his lips, but Gytha did not seem to know how to translate it into Saxon and so simply repeated the word “princess.”

  It was what King Irael had called her the day before, not unlike what they had called Owain.

  I am a princess now.

  She was not sure what it meant but the thought still filled her with awe.

  As she turned to follow him into a passageway, a tiny gasp caught her ear.

  “What?” Leola said.

  Turning around, she saw a small child hidden behind a curtain and peering out at her, only to hide back again.

  “Who is that?” Leola asked.

  “That is Lady Gratianna, Princess,” the steward replied. “She is Prince Owain's daughter. The mother is married now in the north.”

  That confirms that suspicion.

  For although Leola's assumption about Owain having many wives had proven false, she still felt justified in her thought of him. Owain had had a child, even though that child’s mother had not been married to him.

  “I'm very sorry for her, then,” Leola said, in a quiet voice.

  “She is a good little girl. I hope you like her, Princess.”

  “I am sure I shall.”

  They went down the passageway to the very end, where the steward opened up the large wooden doors.

  “Here are your chambers, Princess,” he said. “These rooms were chosen for their warmth and of course for being on the ground floor. If you wish to change them, I shall show you the others.”

  Leola looked around. The room was large and spacious with tall slender windows

  overlooking the garden. Wide animal skin rugs were spread across the floor. The dark wood of the carved f
urniture was polished until it shined.

  “Oh, no,” Leola said. “This is quite beautiful. I love it.”

  “Excellent,” the steward replied.

  He went to the far end of the room and opened up the doors so she could see the rest of the chambers.

  “Well, out with it,” King Irael said.

  Queen Severa did not pretend to misunderstand him, for she set her cup aside and gave her brother a serious stare.

  “You are in mourning, Aurelius,” she said. “You cannot really believe that a decision of this magnitude can be evaluated with clarity when you are still lamenting your son. I'm not

  saying do not mourn, brother, for I know that you loved him. We all loved him. But are you

  certain that your judgment is not affected by your grief?”

  King Irael gave a sorry laugh.

  “I am sure that my judgment is affected, Severa,” he replied. “But when shall I stop mourning for my son? When this child is born? When he is seven, twelve, twenty? I do not believe I even can stop mourning. Owain was everything to me. Everything I had left of my Elen. I shall always weep for my son.”

  His sister nodded her understanding, and though he knew by her resolute face that she disagreed.

  “Then I shall try to help,” she said, with a sigh. “I shall stay the week and see her comfortable, and I shall return again when she has her labor. You may keep the servant girl, Gytha here if you like.”

  King Irael took her slender hands and kissed each on.

  “Thank you, Sister,” he said, with a grateful smile. “Now no more gloomy talk. Where is that cake I ordered?”

  The servants were called to get it and soon carried in a newly baked sweet bread.

  “Oh, Aurelius!” Queen Severa said in reproach. “You always eat too many sweet things. You know it is not good for your heart.”

  “Do not scold me now,” King Irael replied, his voice laughing. “Scold me tomorrow.

  Today, let us enjoy ourselves.”

  He saw her reluctance, but with his prompting, she soon gave in and ate with him. But for a moment, the sweet taste seeping into his tongue carried the thoughts of his son just a little further away from his weary heart.

  Owain’s gaze fell over the rulers who sat around the circular table, resting once more on the confident face of his father.