Ragnar's booming laughter filled their bed space. "By Woden, Antonia, you are clever, but I see through you! You were not expecting that I had additional family, but we Saxons are good breeders, as your belly attests to," he told her, patting the place where his child grew within her. "You had some scheme in mind, and now, I have not a doubt, you will form another crafty plot to replace it. Very well, if it amuses you to do so. Breeding women are given to such vagaries, and it is harmless enough, I think." He lowered his dark blond head and kissed her plump shoulder. His shoulder-length hair brushed her breasts.
Reaching up, Antonia thoughtfully stroked his beard. She hated him, but he was the most virile man she had ever known. "Do not be a fool, Ragnar," she finally told him. "Take the lands to the south, for Wulf Ironfist has given you good advice. Even I will admit to that. Lull our enemy into a false sense of security, and when he least expects it, seize his lands as well! Why settle for being a minor lordling when you could be a king?"
At her words, the child within her kicked mightily, and Ragnar Strongspear felt the movement beneath his resting hand. "It is an omen," he said, almost fearfully. "Why else would the child grow so restive in your womb, Antonia? Surely it is a sign of some sort."
"Our son knows that I speak the truth, my husband," she told him. "Or perhaps it is the gods who speak to you through the babe." What a fool he is, she thought to herself. If the gods existed, and frankly Antonia was no longer certain that they did, why would they bother to concern themselves with one as foolish and superstitious as this great bull of a man who lay by her side contemplating the future?
"My brother and his family should be here in a few days' time," he told her finally. "He has just a single wife, as he has never been able to afford more, but now, of course, that will change. He is younger than I am by several years, but he fathered his first child on his wife when he was but fourteen. There are eight living children. Six sons."
"What a fine family," Antonia said dryly, thinking that this horrid hall he had built to replace her beautiful villa-the villa he had destroyed-was already badly overcrowded. The addition of ten more people would but add to the noise and the filth. The gods! She missed her bath with its lovely rejuvenating steam and its delicious hot water. How Ragnar's other wives mocked her when she insisted on washing herself in a little oaken tub filled with warm water. But she didn't care. She would wager that Cailin Drusus had better bathing accommodations, the bitch! "Ragnar," she said to her husband, who was half dozing.
"What?" he grunted.
"If Cadda-wic is truly fortified so well it cannot be taken in battle, then we will have to think of another way to capture it."
He shook his head at her. "There is no way. Wulf Ironfist has built strongly, and he has built well. Even the water supply is safely within his walls. I am not a man to easily admit defeat, Antonia, but Cadda-wic cannot be taken. It simply cannot be!"
"Let me tell you a tale of ancient times, Ragnar," Antonia said patiently, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand.
"Another time, woman," he said, and rolled her onto her side. "I have other things in mind for you, and then I must sleep. In the morning you may tell me your fable, but now I want to fuck you."
"Your needs are so simple," she taunted him, hissing softly as he penetrated her expertly. "If you are as good a warrior as you are a lover, my husband, you will have no difficulty in taking Cadda-wic once I have shown you how. Ahhh, yess, Ragnar! Yesss!"
Cadda-wic. He thought about it as he methpdically pumped her. The lands were good, the hall sound, and Cailin would be an extra bonus. He had seen her several times, but he could not dismiss her from his mind. What fire and spirit she had! He imagined she would be as strong and sweet as his Saxon wives, and as lustful as Antonia. It was a perfect combination, and he meant to have her. There was time, however. Neither she nor Wulf Ironfist were going anywhere. They had made it abundantly clear that the land meant everything to them. He would have more than enough time to take the lands to the south. To settle his brother and his family on a nearby holding. To find Gunnar a second wife with a good dowry. Oh, yes, there was plenty of time.
***
The autumn came, and Nuala bore Winefrith a fine, big son, who was called Barre. It meant a gateway between two places. Nuala thought it appropriate, for Barre was indeed a bridge between the Britain of old and the new Britain. Cailin was present at the birth, and afterward marveled at the child's size and how strongly he tugged upon his mother's breast when he was put there to nurse.
"You'll have a son of your own soon enough," Nuala teased her. "Surely you and Wulf do not spend all that time in the solar just talking, cousin." She giggled. "I know I wouldn't!"
"Fresh from childbirth, and totally shameless," Cailin said, pretending to be scandalized. "For your information, Wulf enjoys watching me at my loom, Nuala. And then, of course, we sing together."
Nuala looked thunderstruck. "You jest!" she said.
"I assure you it is quite true," Cailin replied sweetly.
"Indeed it is," Wulf said, agreeing with his wife, whom he had overheard spinning her mischievous tale. "Cailin weaves a most marvelous spell about me when we are in the solar together, and sings passion's song far better than any I have ever known."
Nuala burst out laughing, realizing that they were teasing her. The infant at her breast hiccuped, and began to wail. "Ohh, see what you have done to Barre!" she scolded them, suddenly all maternal concern and caring. "There, my little sweetheart. Do not fuss."
By the Winterfest, the lady of Cadda-wic was beginning to swell with another child, much to everyone's delight. It would be born, Cailin told them, after Beltane.
"And it is a son, I am certain," she assured Wulf.
"How can you tell?" he asked her, smiling.
She shrugged. "I just can," she said. "A woman senses such things. Is that not so?" She turned to the other women in the hall for support, and they all nodded in agreement. "You see!"
The winter set in, and the land around them grew white and silent. The days were short, and quick. In the long nights the wolves could be heard howling about Cadda-wic, their eerie cries answered by the mournful howls of the hounds in the hall who grew restless at the knowledge of the predators prowling beyond the strong iron and oak gates.
Wulf and Cailin were alone, for the others had returned to their own villages after the Winterfest. Cailin missed Nuala. Nellwyn, though sweet and loyal, was not particularly interesting to chat with by the fire. Aurora, however, adored her, and without anything being said, Cailin's former slave became the child's nursemaid. It was just as well, for Cailin did not need a personal servant. Her mother had raised her to be a useful person who could do for herself. Now, as mistress of Cadda-wic, Cailin found herself responsible for the well-being of all those in her charge.
Finally the days began to grow discernibly longer. The air felt milder. Patches of earth became visible, and the snow cover shrank rapidly as the earth began to grow warmer with the coming spring. Snowdrops, narcissi, and violets began to make their appearance. Cailin was pleased to find several large clumps growing near the graves of her family. The marble marker had never been finished, and it was now unlikely that it ever would be. It simply read: The Family of Gaius Drusus Corinium. Looking down at it, Cailin sighed, her hand moving to her swollen belly in a protective gesture. How her family would have spoiled her children!
"This child I carry is a son," she assured them aloud. "How I wish you could be here to see him when he is born. He is to be called Royse. Aurora is very excited about the new baby. Ohh!" Cailin looked up as an arm went about her shoulders. "Wulf, how you startled me!"
"You miss your family, don't you?" he replied. "I cannot even remember my mother. I often wonder what she was like."
"Until they were murdered," Cailin answered him, "they were my whole life. I cannot help but wonder what it would have been like if they had not died. My parents, of course, would not be much changed, but my brothers wou
ld. They would truly be men now, with families. How my grandmother would have enjoyed those great-grandchildren. I think, perhaps, it is Brenna I miss the most. How strange that must sound to you."
"I am sorry that I did not know them," he told her. Then together they returned to the hall, where their daughter ran to greet them.
***
The spring was well under way and the plowing started when the gates were opened one morning to reveal a young girl crumpled upon the earth before them. Wulf and Cailin were summoned from the hall.
"The gods!" Cailin exclaimed. "The child has been beaten cruelly! Is she dead? How came she here to Cadda-wic?"
The girl moaned as if in answer, and rolled over just enough to reveal a form more mature than they had thought. She was small and slender, but obviously older than they had originally believed.
Cailin knelt and gently touched the maiden's arm. "Can you hear me, lass?" she asked her. "What has happened to you?"
The girl opened her eyes slowly. They were a pale green in color, and the look in them was one of total confusion. "Where am I?" she whispered so low that Cailin had to bend closer to hear her.
"You are at Cadda-wic, the holding of Wulf Ironfist," she replied. "Who are you? Where have you come from, and who has mistreated you so cruelly?" She shifted herself, uncomfortable in this position, as she was within a month of bearing her child.
The girl looked uncertain as to what to answer, and her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her very pretty face.
"What is your name?" Cailin gently pressed her.
The girl appeared to think a moment, and then she said, "Aelfa. Aelfa is my name! I remember! I am called Aelfa!"
"Where have you come from?" Cailin asked.
Again the girl appeared.to consider, and then said, "I do not know, lady." The tears slipped silently down her face again.
"Poor little thing," Wulf said. "The beating she has received has obviously addled her wits. She will remember in time."
"I will carry her into the hall," said Corio, who had come but the day before from Braleah. Gently, he lifted the girl into his arms, and when her head fell against his shoulder, a strange look crossed the young man's face. No woman had yet captured Corio's heart.
The girl was brought to the hall, where Cailin carefully examined her. Other than her bruises, she seemed fine, but for her loss of memory. Cailin had the tub brought and bathed the girl herself. Aelfa's hair was like cornsilk, a pale, almost silvery gold in color. A tunica and camisa were quickly found to fit her dainty stature. As she was brought to the high board, everyone in the hall could see that Aelfa was not simply a pretty girl. She was a beautiful one. Corio appeared besotted as he watched her eating, picking sparingly at the food.
"He is bewitched," Cailin whispered to her husband.
"As I would be had I not found you, lambkin," he answered.
Cailin was discomfited by his reply, to her great surprise. She had not thought herself capable of such silly jealousy. She gazed from beneath her lashes at the girl. I am just as lovely when I do not look like a sow ready to birth her piglets, she decided. Why are men such fools over a beautiful, helpless female? I should far rather be strong.
When Aelfa had finished eating, Wulf gently asked her, "Have you remembered anything else about yourself that might help us to find to whom you belong? Surely your family is worried."
"Perhaps she is a slave, a runaway," Cailin suggested.
"She wears no collar," Wulf replied. "Did you see any mark of ownership upon her when you bathed her, lambkin?"
Cailin shook her head. "Nay, I did not."
"I can remember nothing of myself," Aelfa said in a sweet, almost musical voice. "Oh, I am afraid! Why can I not remember?"
"You will remember in time," Cailin said briskly, seeing that Aelfa was preparing to weep once more. The men were being foolish enough without being subjected to that. "Have you not work in the fields?" Cailin asked her husband. "Do not worry about Aelfa. She will stay with me, and I will keep her safe. Corio, will your father not want you at home to help? We are so pleased you came to visit, but go, and do not come back until the Beltane fires, cousin!"
"Are all women so impatient when they are close to delivering their young?" Corio asked Wulf as they exited the hall. "I have never seen Cailin so short of temper." Then, dismissing his cousin, he said, "Is not Aelfa the most exquisite creature you have ever seen? I think I am in love with her already. Is such a thing possible, Wulf Ironfist?"
Wulf laughed. "Aye, it is," he admitted, "and I can see you are certainly taken with our waif-child. If we learn anything of import about her, like a husband languishing somewhere, I will send word to you."
Aelfa, however, could not seem to remember anything of her life before they had found her, apart from her name. Wulf felt that all evidence pointed to a gentle birth, and had wanted to house her in the solar, not the hall. Cailin had, with strangely uncharitable feelings, refused.
"The solar is for the lord and his family," she said sharply to her husband. "Aelfa is not family. She is safe in the hall, and to house her with us would say otherwise, causing unpleasant talk."
Among whom? he had wanted to ask, but Cailin's expression was so forbidding he dared not. He put her irritation down to the fact the child's birth was near and that she was anxious for it to be born. "You are mistress of this hall," he soothed her, and was surprised when she glared up at him. He had never seen her like this. Certainly she had not been so easily angered when she had carried Aurora.
"The girl must stay," Cailin said. "It goes against all the laws of hospitality for us to expel her from Cadda-wic due to the mysterious circumstances surrounding her arrival. Nonetheless she is not family, and I will not have her treated as such, lest it be misunderstood."
He was forced to agree, and Aelfa settled into the routine of their lives. She was courteous and pleasant to all, but Cailin thought she seemed more so to the men. Cailin did not know what it was that made her suspicious of Aelfa, but her voice within was strong. She had long ago learned not to deny it even when she did not fully understand the warning. Cailin knew from her past experiences that all would be revealed in time. Until then she would be vigilant and on her guard. Her family and all she held dear were once again being threatened. Would there never come a time when they would know real peace? she despaired silently.
Across the hall, Aelfa sat upon the floor with Nellwyn, giggling as they played with Aurora. They made a most charming picture, even if that was precisely what Aelfa had intended, Cailin thought angrily, wondering why the others could not see the girl for the schemer she was. In time, that little voice counseled her wisely. In time.
Chapter 17
There would never be a Beltane celebration, Cailin thought pensively, when she would not remember the tragedy that had struck her family. The merriment of the festival would always be tinged with sadness for her. When she and Wulf had returned to Britain last year, the holiday had been a subdued one for them because they were too involved with rebuilding their lives. This year, however, it was different. The fields were already green with new grain. There was an air of new hope about them that she could not remember having felt in all her life.
The weather was perfect, and despite the impending birth of her child, Cailin arose early to gather flowering branches for the hall. She took Aurora with her, and upon their return, Cailin noticed Nellwyn and Aelfa loitering about the hall's gates, flirting with the men on duty. She called sharply to Nellwyn to come and take Aurora, and scolded Aelfa for her idleness. Then she hurried into the hall, hearing laughter behind her and knowing that Aelfa had probably said something rude.
Cailin could not understand why the girl's memory had not returned. She had not been that badly injured when they had found her. In fact neither her head nor her face had been touched, it seemed. She had been treated with great kindness in the weeks she was with them. Cailin suspected that the girl knew full well who her people were and where she had come
from, but would say nothing lest she be dislodged from her comfortable place at Cadda-wic, which was obviously better than anything she had ever known. Cailin realized that she did not want Aelfa at Cadda-wic much longer. If the girl could or would not remember, then a husband must be found for her in one of the villages by summer's end. Cailin was perfectly willing to supply the dowry, but Aelfa must go.
"Mama! Mama! See fire!" Aurora, who was snuggled into her mother's arms, pointed with fat little fingers at the Beltane fires leaping up across the hillsides as the sun set.
"Aye, Aurora, I see," Cailin answered her daughter.
"Pretty," Aurora said. "Look at Papa!"
Cailin smiled as Wulf leapt the fire, laughing, and then other men and women both began to follow him.
"Mama jump!" Aurora commanded her mother.
"Nay, precious, not this year," Cailin laughed. "I am too fat with the new baby. Next year," she promised.
Aelfa leapt over the flames, her pale gold hair flying. She was laughing, and Cailin had to admit, even grudgingly, that she was beautiful. The men clustered about her like bees to a honey pot. Corio had come from Braleah village just to see her, but Aelfa did not seem to favor him, to his great disappointment. Her two favorite swains were men-at-arms, Albert and Bran-hard, who vied mightily for her attention. It was just as well, Cailin thought. She was sorry to see the look of hurt on Corio's face, but she also knew he could do better than Aelfa if he really desired a wife. She watched, half amused, half annoyed, as Aelfa disappeared into the darkness, first with one of her admirers, and then returned with him to shortly go off with the other.
"She has the morals of a mink," Cailin said to Wulf. "She will have those two at each other's throats before the night is out."
"She is young, and it is Beltane," he answered mildly.
To Love Again Page 40