by Maura Seger
Covering their hands with his own, he prayed that the favor of the Lord would shine upon them, that they would always be a source of mutual comfort and support, and that if it was the Creator's will, they would be blessed by children.
Turning to the cross set above the altar, he blessed the wine and bread that were the living symbols of belief. As Roanna and Colin knelt before him to receive communion, the ancient Latin litany drifted over them, calling the faithful to everlasting life.
Having been so long without this ritual, many others wished to partake. Father Elferth had wisely brought several young priests with him who spread out among the crowd. After the briefest hesitation, men and women pressed forward to receive the salty wafers. Few eyes were dry as the grief-stricken memories of recent months slowly gave way to the hope of salvation.
"Before God and man," Father Elferth said at last, "I charge you all to recognize the sanctity of this union. May this man and woman be united forever as one flesh, one spirit, one will." Smiling gently at Roanna and Colin, he concluded, "In the name of Christ our Lord, I pronounce you man and wife."
The hushed silence erupted in joyful acclaim. Guests surged forward, each anxious to be the first to offer congratulations. In the melee, the bridal couple would easily have been separated were it not for the steely arm Colin kept wrapped around Roanna's waist Locked firmly to his side, she could hardly breathe. Her smile was frozen as she responded unconsciously to the rush of tributes.
In a departure from custom permitted only at weddings and the fertility festivals of early spring, the men and women were seated together. As the newlywed couple took their place at the high table, servants rushed to fill mugs and begin serving the seemingly endless supply of food. The first of innumerable toasts began, each more florid than the last.
Roanna was careful only to touch her cup to her lips and was relieved to see that Colin did the same. With the conclusion of the ceremony, he unbent a bit. Some of the tension eased from his rugged features as he joined her in accepting the company's good wishes. There was even a glimpse of laughter in the silvery eyes as acrobats and jesters darted about and songsters offered tunes which became increasingly bawdy as the afternoon wore on.
Though she had been prepared for a long feast Roanna had underestimated the effect of such prolonged celebrations. She accepted little food and ate even less, yet she still felt filled to bursting. The small amount of wine she sipped sent her senses spinning. The constant clamor of shouts, laughter, randy jokes, and the like made her head pound.
Long before the fight began to fade and torches were lit against the darkness, the small of her back ached She understood that it was necessary for a chieftain of Colin's standing to observe his marriage with proper expansiveness. But she could only wish it was all over and done with.
With the coming of dark, Father Elferth discreetly excused himself and his young priests. Their departure was the signal for a new phase of the festivities. The Christian rituals had been observed; it was time for the pagan to have its due.
Brenna had warned her of what would take place, so she was not unduly shocked by the sudden appearance of a figure robed and hooded in white, horns upon his head, and a red cord wound round his waist
The Norman guests, likewise prepared, had drunk enough to view the spectacle as no more than an interesting local custom. Only later would a few among them wonder where the line was drawn between ancient gods and the deviL For the rest their loyalty to Guyon would be too great for them to voice any such doubts.
Roanna swallowed hard as the figure approached. So forbidding was its appearance that the raucous merriment died away in an instant Even the musicians set down their instruments, their jaunty tunes replaced by a low, sinuous chant from the shadows.
Were it not for Colin's firm grip on her arm, Roanna doubted she could have stood. He led her to the open space before the tables where the figure had stopped. They exchanged a few words in a language she could not understand.
At a signal from the hooded one, several young girls stepped forward. Their hair lay loose about their backs. Their feet were bare. They wore thin white gowns that hid little of the beauty of their forms.
Flowers were laid around the bridal couple. Burning herbs perfumed the air. The hushed crowd leaned forward, anxious to miss nothing of this rite performed only at the marriage of great warriors.
A silver chalice was brought forward and handed to Roanna. Glancing into it she felt a rush of relief when she saw nothing more than wine. Holding the cup before her, she faced Colin. Silently, they both drank from it.
The ceremonial dagger he had worn strapped to his waist was withdrawn from its scabbard. In the flickering firelight of the torches, it gleamed menacingly. Roanna had to call on all her courage to stand motionless.
In the instant before his arm lifted, she thought she saw a tiny smile quirk his hard mouth. It reassured her just enough to keep her still as the lethal blade plunged. Straight into the chalice.
The crowd roared its approval. As the deep red wine closed round the dagger, engulfing it raucous comments left no doubt as to the meaning of the ritual. Roanna's face was hot and her hands shook when a smiling young girl took the chalice from her. The blade was carefully dried on a white linen cloth before being presented to her. She was given to understand that it was now her property.
Silence fell again as the hooded one removed the red cord from around his body. Roanna stiffened as Colin took her hands. The chanting increased as they were bound firmly together. Ancient prayers were recited over them.
Though the words were unknown to her, she sensed the sentiments were not all that different from those expressed by Father Elferth. Far from the Satanic rites she had vaguely feared, they were simply being wed again before the spirits of fire, air, earth, and water.
Comforted by Colin's nearness, Roanna did not shirk when the hooded one at last untied the cord.
The white-robed girls were instantly at her side. Before she could take a step, she was hustled away toward the private quarters she would henceforth share with her husband.
Colin's chamber was somewhat larger than those provided for guests, but furnished in much the same way. Copper braziers provided enough Bght to see clearly. A large bed covered by a down-filled mattress took up most of one wall. Across from it stood a table flanked by benches where Roanna guessed he sometimes held private meetings with his most important retainers. Carved chests held clothes and ornaments. A shield and several swords were propped against one. The floor was strewn with fresh rushes sprinkled with sweet-smelling herbs.
Roanna had attended several nuptial beddings in Normandy and understood their purpose. But she was thankful to be spared such exposure. It was enough to be stripped naked by the girls, her body sincerely admired in terms that made her blush. Resignedly, she allowed herself to be guided to the bed.
The blankets were pulled back, revealing a coverlet of smooth white linen. Lying down, Roanna told herself that the sooner they were done the sooner Colin would come. She lay quietly as the girls anointed her with a light, pleasantly scented oil from the tips of her toes to the gently rounded curve of her shoulders.
Beneath their ministrations, Roanna sighed softly. She must be even tireder than she had thought. It was growing difficult to keep her eyes open. They fluttered shut as her skin grew warm and flushed. She was unaware of the oil's sensual effects as it permeated her body, nor did she hear the low moan that broke from her.
The girls glanced at each other, satisfied. One of the youngest giggled, only to be instantly hushed. Preparing the bride was a sacred ritual handed down from the days of the mother goddess. There was no place for levity in actions meant to make intercourse both easy and pleasant no matter how inexperienced a woman might be or how clumsy her husband Garnering up the discarded clothes, they withdrew discreetly.
Outside, Colin watched them go with relief. If it had been left up to him, he would gladly have dispensed with this part of the ceremony. Co
nfident of both his own ability and his bride's response, he knew it was not necessary. But ancient traditions demanded respect. With the ritual's completion, however, he need wait no longer.
There was a masculine equivalent of the preparations Roanna had just undergone, but that Colin firmly refused. He had been almost painfully aroused since first laying eyes on her at the beginning of the day. The skilled priestesses charged with assuring his potency were not only unwanted but unnecessary. Certain that their disappointment could be readily assuaged elsewhere, he rose to join his bride.
The ribald jokes and eager offers of assistance faded quickly behind him. Reaching his quarters, he stepped swiftly inside, shutting the door firmly on any prying eyes. The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat and sent a tremor racing through his huge body.
Roanna lay on her back, her honeyed skin glowing in the lamplight Her slender arms were raised above her head. A dreamy smile curved her lush mouth. As her amber gaze focused on him, her eyes darkened. In the deep shadows around the bed, he looked like a huge, savage warrior intent on plunder. A flicker of fear darted through her, only to be banished by the overwhelming desire to give everything he demanded.
"Colin. . ."
He stood for a moment relishing the ardent beauty of his wife before crossing the room swiftly. Dropping on the bed beside her, he reached out a trembling hand to touch the smooth perfection of her body. His calloused fingers closed round her nipple, gently bringing it to a hard, yearning peak.
"Hmmm ...." Roanna murmured breathlessly, "please. . . keep touching me. . . ." Arching under his hand, she sought more of the exquisite sensations rushing through her.
Colin was delighted to comply. Easing himself fully over her, he stroked and caressed the silken length of her until she was quivering with need. Only then did he step away from the bed long enough to strip off his own clothes.
Roanna welcomed him back with open arms. What few inhibitions might have remained after their earlier lovemaking were banished by the ointment that drove out all restraint and opened the way for unhindered fulfillment
As his mouth wandered over her, his tongue flicking from the satin firmness of her breasts down along the flat plane of her belly to the hidden treasure of her womanhood, Colin absorbed some of the salve into himself. His caresses became slightly rougher, though no less pleasurable. Drawing her even closer, he moved to possess her fully.
The smooth thrust of his manhood within her made Roanna groan with delight. She moved against him eagerly, thwarting his efforts to prolong their pleasure. The shattering burst of ecstasy hurled them both far from consciousness. Colin cried her name into her mouth as together they hurtled toward the stars.
With any other woman, he would have been astounded to find himself still hard after such release. But with Roanna, he was not at all surprised. His need for her was endless, as hers was for him.
Holding her firmly to him, Colin rolled over on his back. Roanna straightened above him, her high-pointed breasts beckoning his hands. He gently squeezed and stroked them as they began another, slower ascent heavenward.
Even then they were not satiated. Long after all effects of the ointment had worn off, they continued to love unrestrainedly. Not an inch of Roanna's body went untouched even as she learned to know Colin as thoroughly. Together they sought the furthest reaches of ecstasy, not stopping until sleep at last claimed them both.
Much later, when she ruefully soaked away a certain lingering soreness, Roanna would reflect on the wages of such erotic excess. But just then she knew only that she lay with the man who made her heart and soul complete, and that she had everything in life she could ever wish.
No shadow darkened her happiness, no premonition hinted at the mortal danger already gathering just beyond the confines of their love-dazzled world.
Chapter 9
"We'll expect you when we see you," Brenna advised lightly. For good measure, she added, "Don't hurry back."
Roanna and Colin were willing enough to accept her advice. Married three days, they were still far too absorbed in each other to need anyone else's company. The preparations for winter were well ahead of schedule, the stronghold lay secure in the combined protection of both English and Norman forces. There was nothing to keep them from fully enjoying the balmy summer afternoon.
Hand in hand they wandered across a field bright with wildflowers. Colin bent to pluck a daisy, teasing it beneath Roanna's chin. Laughing, she made to pull away, only to be stopped by his gentle but firm grip.
Pulling her to him, Colin tilted her head back. His lips brushed hers tenderly. "I love you, my wife."
Would she ever grow used to his touch? Roanna wondered dazedly. Her throat tightened as she met his smile with her own. "And I love you, my husband." A teasing gleam entered her amber eyes. "Were we not within sight of the stronghold, I would show you how much."
Without another word, Colin scooped her into his arms and set off toward a nearby glen.
"Where are we going?" Roanna demanded, trying without success to sound stem.
"To a secluded spot I know," her husband informed her roguishly.
"The last time I wandered too far from home," she reminded him, "I was carried off by an arrogant, fearsome lord."
"What a coincidence," Colin growled, his lips nuzzling her throat "I can guarantee the same thing is about to happen again."
Not quite the same, Roanna thought with just a touch of pardonable smugness. This time there was no terror or remorse, no dread of pain or dishonor. Only joyful anticipation and the certainty of love.
With new-found docility, she yielded. It was no great hardship to be laid on fragrant grass, stripped of her domes, and slowly, relentlessly caressed to exquisite ecstasy. Nor did she regret the long, languorous hours of the afternoon during which she greedily explored her husband's lean, hard form with skillful hands and mouth.
Afterward, Colin fell asleep while Roanna nestled contentedly in his arms. Her body was pleasantly tired, but her mind was too full of happiness to rest Staring up at the bright blue sky dusted with fluffy clouds, she gave silent thanks for the joy that had come to her. Her life before meeting Colin seemed no more than a dream, from which she had at last awakened.
Far off in the back of her mind, she was aware that this blissful interlude could not last. Protected by the loyalty of his people and the support of her brother and sister-in-law, she was insulated from the problems of the world. But harsh reality would inevitably intrude. The country was still too torn by hatred and violence to allow lovers any great degree of peace.
Instinctively, she was storing away each precious moment as a source of strength against the darker days she could reluctantly foresee.
Determined to shake off her somber mood, Roanna brushed a feather-light kiss across her sleeping husband's lean cheek before going off in search of some distraction. A glimpse of irises blooming beside the stream drew her in that direction.
Humming softly to herself, she filled her arms with the flowers. They would bring a welcome note of color to the guest chamber Brenna and Guyon were sharing, as well as to her own and Colin's bower. One particularly lovely blossom was just beyond her grasp. Stepping around moss-draped rocks, she reached for it carefully.
The flower was in her hand when she saw the still form lying half-hidden by the underbrush. The man lay on his stomach, his arms and legs spread in the attitude of falling. He was roughly dressed in the garb of a peasant A brown serge tunic covered him to his knees. Stained and torn hose sheathed his legs down to wooden clogs, one of which was missing.
Though she could not see his face, the firm muscularity of his body suggested he was a young man. That was substantiated by the sight of thick brown hair heavily matted with blood.
Dropping the bouquet Roanna moved forward, intent on determining whether the man was alive and, if so, offering what help she could. She was at his side before she remembered that Colin was only a short distance away. If he found she h
ad approached a stranger by herself, even one so grievously hurt, he would be angered.
Picking up the skirt of her tunic, which was her only covering, she darted back to him. An urgent hand on his shoulder shook him awake.
"Roanna. . . ." The sight of her strained features and wide eyes banished his sleepy smile. Instantly alert he sat up. "What is it? Has something happened?"
"There's a man, in the underbrush. I don't know if he's alive or not"
Colin was on his feet before she finished speaking. He dressed swiftly. "Show me."
They reached the spot by the stream within minutes. Motioning her back, Colin glanced round cautiously. A body meant assailants, who still might be nearby. His hand was on the dagger strapped to his side as he turned the still form over.
Roanna had been right to think the man young. His face, ashen from loss of blood, revealed him to be little more than a boy. Besides the wound at the back of his head, he showed numerous other injuries. Wherever he came from, he could not have gotten very far in such condition. But despite his grave condition, he was still alive. Kneeling down beside Colin, Roanna was able to find a slight heartbeat
"We must get him back inside," she murmured, "whoever he is. . . ."
Her husband's face was grim. "I know him. He lives on one of the farms in my holding."
Shock turned Roanna's eyes to darkened pools. Violence of any form was almost unheard of within the Algerson lands. Colin ruled justly but firmly. He did not allow his people to injure one another. Whoever had done this was an outsider.
Stunned by his revelation, she said nothing more as Colin easily hoisted the young man over his shoulders and started back toward the stronghold. The flowers lay forgotten on the bank as Roanna hurried after him.
Guyon was crossing the bailey as they entered. He came quickly to their side. Glancing from one to the other to make sure they were all right, he asked quietly, "Are there any others?"