by Mary Yarde
“Well, here.” He shoved his hand towards Alden. “Have a drink; you will need one if you are seeking sanctuary here, right, Oeric?”
Alden took the invisible goblet Merton offered him. Truth be told, he was unsure what else to do. Crazed men were prone to violence, and he did not want to provoke Merton’s rage because as a sane man he was a formidable opponent; as a madman Alden guessed he would be lethal.
“Drink. Drink,” Merton encouraged.
“I am not really thirsty,” Alden said.
“Oh.” Merton said. “Well, give it back then; I’ll not let it go to waste.”
“Merton.”
“Come, come, I haven’t all day.”
Frowning, Alden handed back the invisible goblet.
“Annis of Wessex,” Merton said in astonishment as his eyes fell upon her. “You are a long way from home. What are you doing here?”
“I…” she looked at Alden for help.
Merton followed Annis’s gaze to his brother. “You married her?” Merton asked, the madness from his eyes lifting; but it was only temporary, for suddenly he started to swear, fluently and loudly.
“Merton, there are ladies present,” Octa said, his voice thick with disgust.
Merton looked through Annis as if she wasn’t there. “Where? I can see none,” he spat.
“You insult my father,” Octa stated.
“Oh, how I wish that were true. What is she doing here?” He indicated Annis with a nod of his head.
“She came with me. I told you. She is my wife,” Alden said.
Merton looked at Alden and then back at Annis. He began to laugh. It was high-pitched and shrill; the laugh of a lunatic.
Alden did not know this man in front of him. This was not his brother. Inside he wept for the man his brother had been and the man he was now. Another mark against him, another person he had failed to protect. His brother was ruined, his life over.
Merton, doubled up with laughter, wiped the tears that had formed in his eyes and stamped his foot on the floor. He raised his knuckle to his mouth and bit on his hand. The hysteria stopped as quickly as it started. He swayed unsteadily on his feet. “Why did you marry her?” he asked again, his voice rising to a squeak.
“I will not speak to you when you are like this. And you are not my keeper. I do not have to answer your questions,” Alden answered; he would not have a conversation with a drunken lunatic, even if it was his younger brother.
“You will not speak to me? Am I not good enough for you now? Oh, sorry, I forget. Thanks be to God,” he started to yell. “The king has returned and he has come to save us and to deliver us from evil. Amen.” He bowed mockingly. “No…wait, you no longer have a kingdom. And your clothes, how fitting, brother, for you are nothing but a common serf now. And serfs are not allowed secrets.”
Alden should have known when Merton was about to strike. But the words Merton threw at him, the accusations — all true, of course — had knocked his senses sideways and Merton had seen his opportunity and like an adder, he attacked. Not at Alden, no, an easier target and a deadlier one. Annis screamed as Merton grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. He twisted her around so that her back was to his chest, the tip of his knife pointed against her exposed throat. “Should I ask again?”
Annis almost blacked out with fear. She could feel the cold blade resting on her skin. She dared not breathe. Her eyes locked on to Alden’s, who had also withdrawn his knife. If she were to die here, then at least Alden would be the last person she would see. She tried to take comfort in that.
“She should burn,” Merton stated. “A sacrifice to all those souls that her father murdered.” He pressed the tip of the blade into her neck, drawing blood.
“Please,” Annis whimpered.
“Let her go,” Alden commanded.
“Let her go?” Merton repeated. “She is responsible for the destruction of our kingdom. She must pay.”
“She did nothing; she is innocent,” Alden spoke softly, edging closer.
“We should cut her into pieces and send her back to her father.” Merton acted as if he had not heard Alden speak; he moved the knife to Annis’s ear.
A muscle jumped in Alden’s face. “Merton don’t. You hurt me if you hurt her.” He saw something shift in Merton’s eyes and he pressed the advantage and stepped closer. “Merton, give me the knife.”
Merton took two steps back, dragging Annis back with him. “She must pay for her crimes.” He removed the knife from her ear, his hand caught hold of her braided hair, pulling tightly.
Annis yelped in pain, closing her eyes, for it felt like he was going to pull her hair from her scalp.
“Let her go,” Alden ordered, rapidly losing his patience.
“Did you see the children, Alden? Did you see their burnt bodies? She will pay. He will know suffering. His daughter will die in Oeric’s kingdom.” His glance fell on Oeric’s face. “And won’t that be fitting?”
Then Merton slashed at Annis’s hair, cutting off the plait that had hung halfway down her back. His hand tangled in her short crop of curly hair and again he looked into his brother’s face. “Perhaps an ear next,” Merton taunted.
Alden saw an opportunity and struck.
Merton fell backwards, and Annis screamed as he pulled a handful of her hair from her scalp. Merton landed on to the reed-covered floor, blood running from his broken nose.
“I forgot you were fast.” Merton stated, watching as Alden grabbed hold of his wife, pulling her behind him out of the way. “You hit me?” His tone held disbelief, because Alden had never, even in childhood tantrums, raised a hand to him before. Alden’s shadow fell across him.
“You are lucky we are blood. If you were anyone else, you would be dead.” Alden stamped hard on Merton’s hand that still held the knife. Merton gasped out in pain as his own blade dug into his skin.
“Get out of here and sober up. That is my wife you have just dishonoured,” he yelled, giving way to anger.
Merton glared up at his brother, and then slowly he rose to his feet.
“You married her,” Merton accused, spitting out blood. “After all you said, you married her. And they say I have lost my mind.” He barked a laugh. “Well, Sire, you have chosen your side. Little good it will do you.” Merton looked at Oeric and back to his brother. He flexed his bloody hand and bent, picking up his knife and Annis’s braid from the floor. “Make sure your bed is not your grave.” He smiled, blood running into his mouth from his nose, and then he turned and staggered out of the hall.
Alden watched Merton leave and then he sheathed his knife and fisted his shaking hands. He felt like he had just faced a thousand fierce warriors in battle.
He turned when the doors were firmly shut behind Merton. He reached for Annis’s hand and pulled her in front of him. Ignoring King Oeric and his courtiers, he raised his shaking hands and touched the ends of her slashed hair, which now reached just below her ear. He put his thumb to the small cut on her neck, stemming the slight trickle of blood. It was merely a scratch, nothing serious, it could have been a lot worse.
“He has been through a lot, Alden. He is just looking for someone to blame, someone to fight,” Octa said, although his voice, too, sounded shocked at what he had just witnessed.
Merton may have been many things, but he had never, ever, hurt a woman. He was an honourable man and believed in a fair fight. But not anymore, it seemed. Everything in Alden’s world had changed. The people had too, and that did come as a surprise.
“We have all suffered,” Alden replied. He would think about what he was going to do about Merton later. There was something more pressing for him to worry about. There was a tension in this hall, almost as if the people inside it were on the edge of hysteria. Octa looked uneasy and the rest of Oeric’s loyal peers looked like they were ready to take up arms at a moment’s notice
. Alden feared the violent encounter with his deranged brother had been set up on purpose. Like a cockfight or a bear bait. Had the du Lac brothers entertained?
Alden led Annis over to the table and pulled out a chair. Annis sank on to it gratefully. She was trembling so much she was surprised she had remained standing. She tried to take a deep breath, but found she could not. Panicking, she began to wheeze.
“Stop that,” Alden said. He knelt down, taking both her hands and looked deep into her eyes. “Stop it.” He said again. His voice sounded harsh with irritation.
Annis bit her lip. She was trying so hard not to cry. She was trying so hard not to disgrace herself completely. She just wanted him to comfort her and instead he was talking to her as if she were a disobeying child.
Alden saw the anger in her eyes replacing the fear and panic. Good. It would get her through the next few moments, until they were granted a chamber and she could have some privacy. Then he would let her cry, but not until then. Not in front of Oeric.
“Stay strong. Do not shame me by crying here,” he whispered, and then he rose.
“Forgive me. That was not how I intended this meeting to go,” Alden said as he turned his attention back to Oeric.
Oeric came forward, now that the danger had past. Strange how so many kings distanced themselves from a war they had created.
“I can imagine,” Oeric said. “I must say, Alden, I am uneasy with this alliance between you and Wessex’s daughter. You say you married her? I feel that was unwise, considering.”
Alden did not look back at Annis, but he could feel her stare.
“Cerdic had me lashed, like a thief. I figured I had already received my punishment, so I thought I was justified to commit the crime.”
“You stole her from him?” Oeric said, his face impressed.
“Yes.” He had to be careful; if Oeric were to send an ambassador to Wessex, he would rather Cerdic think Annis was innocent, that he had taken her against her will. He would do anything to keep her safe, and in this volatile world, where he could not even trust his brother, he needed to ensure her protection somehow.
“I had heard different.”
“Then you heard wrong.”
“So you took her and then you married her, just like that?” Oeric raised an eyebrow.
“Just like that,” Alden confirmed.
“And she agreed?”
“I didn’t ask her. She did as she was told.”
Octa cleared his throat, although thankfully he decided to remain silent.
Oeric snorted. “I hope she makes a better wife than Edmee. She was a Wessex too, remember.”
“I am hardly going to forget my first wife,” Alden said softly.
“I have forgotten mine,” Oeric stated and then he did his best attempt at fatherly concern. “Alden, you do not want to be tied to a Wessex again. You are a man of such honour that if you told the world she was simply your mistress, they would believe you. Have a fresh start. Rid yourself once and for all from the ties of that man. Your father would not have — ”
What was it with everyone trying to tell him what his father would and would not have done? “You are asking me to lie, to cast her aside?”
“It would be the ultimate revenge,” Oeric agreed, licking his lips, his eyes flicking to where Annis sat. If Alden had a mind to share, then who was he to say no?
“She could be with child, though,” Alden said, drawing Oeric’s attention back to him.
“Even better,” Oeric said, rubbing his hands in glee. He had a thing for pregnant women; he found they would do anything he asked to protect their belly full of arms and legs.
Annis could not stop shaking. Merton’s physical abuse had been bad enough, but now she had to listen to this. She stood on shaky legs. She could not stand much more of this. She needed to get out of this place. She needed to get away from all of them.
“You could ransom her,” Octa suggested. “Cerdic may pay well for his daughter.”
“One that has been violated? Do you really think so?” Alden asked sceptically, sending Octa a dark look.
“Or you could threaten to do what Merton suggested. Send her back a piece at a time.”
“I could,” Alden said. If Octa did not stop with his suggestions, he would find himself in small pieces. “Whatever I decide in the future is in the future. At this moment, Annis of Wessex is my wife and I would hope you would offer her the same consideration that you would offer me. Now, if you don’t mind, my Lords, I think it may be respectful if we could finish this conversation without the presence of my wife.” He emphasised the word, staking his claim. “Could I beg a chamber from you? Just for the night.”
“Of course, of course,” Oeric said. He clicked his fingers and a slave came forward. “Mathew will show you to your room.”
“Thank you for your hospitality and for sheltering those from my kingdom.”
“There weren’t that many,” Oeric said. “You would have done the same.”
“I would.”
They clasped hands and Alden bowed. One night, he promised himself, just one night.
12
Annis said not a word to him as they followed the slave through the fort. The chamber they were shown to was fit for a mouse and not much else. The hearth was bare and the reeds on the floor were old. A small window overlooked the herb garden, and there was a small, plainly-furnished pallet. It was a shabby room, a room that, under normal circumstances, would be offered to a lowly courtier. Alden noticed the embarrassment on the slave’s face when he opened the door. The slight was intended and Alden felt it. This room had been given to them on purpose to show him his new place in society. Alden did not complain, he did not make an embarrassing scene, as many a man in his situation would have done. He merely dismissed the slave, whose sense of relief was palpable. Alden watched the slave close the door behind him. It clicked shut and then he turned his attention to Annis.
Annis stood staring out the window, where a spider had taken up residence and had spun a web in one corner. She jumped when she felt Alden’s hands on her shoulders.
“I am so sorry,” he said. “I did not expect to see Merton here. I thought he was dead. I had no idea what he was going to do. My brother has never hurt a woman in his life. I would not believe him capable of doing such a thing if I had not witnessed it myself. Sweetheart, I am sorry. It will grow back.” He touched the sheared strands with his fingertips.
Annis sniffed. Merton had terrified her; she feared he was going to kill her. But it was Alden and his conversation with Oeric that had frightened her more. If Alden sent her back to her father, then she would be better off dead.
“And the other?” she asked, her voice shaky. “What was that about?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about?” Annis repeated scornfully. “The send her back to her father part. Is that what you are going to do?”
“For the love of God, Annis, what do you think?” He was angry with her now. Angry with himself for letting Merton get close enough to hurt her, and there was something else as well, a feeling that he did not want to acknowledge, but knew he must. He feared he had walked them both into a trap. “I will not leave you here.”
“You wouldn’t be leaving me; you would be sending me back to my father.”
“After everything we have been through, after everything I have said, how can you think I would even contemplate that?” His hands circled her face and he stared into her eyes. “I am appeasing Oeric. I am in his kingdom. I have to. Look at this room. What does it say to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I am no longer a king. This room is a disgraceful show of contempt towards me. This is a squire’s room, or a lowly servant of God’s. Oeric does not want me here, because I am a danger to him. Kent borders Wessex. Your father knows we are her
e. I have to be careful. I have to seem to be grateful. And it means I have to be seen to be giving Oeric’s suggestions my full attention. It does not mean that I am.”
“He thinks to rule you?”
“I will not be ruled by the likes of him. You are my wife.”
“I am not,” Annis said.
“As good as. And that is good enough for me.”
Annis raised her head, her tear-filled eyes clashing with his.
He reached up and touched her hair again. “I cannot believe he did that to you.” He pulled her into the shelter of his arms and Annis gave way to tears.
“Please don’t leave me,” she whimpered into his shoulder. “Not here.”
“I won’t.” Alden kissed her forehead gently and raised her head so she had to look at him. “I am not going to leave you here. I am not going to send you back to your father. You are staying with me. Whatever I say — whatever I seem to do while we are here, ignore it. My intention isn’t to hurt you. My intention is to keep you with me. Please remember that.”
“And if Oeric forces me to go back to my father?”
“He cannot force you. I am not his subject and neither are you.”
“But —”
“Sshh. I know what I am doing. I have been playing this game all my life.”
“Cerniw was a warning to the rest of us. Cerdic wants the High Kingship.”
“Then why choose Cerniw to launch his show of power? Why not Sussex or Kent? That would have made more sense?” Alden sipped at his drink.
“He was in secret talks with Natanleod and he has no quarrel with me.”
“He had no quarrel with me, either. And his secret talks with Natanleod were not very secret if you knew about them,” Alden pointed out. A slave began to refill Alden’s silver goblet with sweet red wine. Alden had not realised he had drunk it all. He placed the goblet down on the table; he did not need alcohol to numb his senses, for they had taken enough of a battering as it was.