by Mary Yarde
“You don’t know him.”
“Not that well, no. But I do know Merton, and Merton never stops talking about Alden.” Josephine said softly. “I saw the way Alden looked at you last night.”
“It doesn’t matter though, does it? I am still a Saxon.” Annis sniffed. “Should one of us go after her?”
“No. We cannot comfort her with well-intended words and gentle embraces. Some things hurt too much. I’m sorry; I am quite the watering pot today.” Josephine turned her back and her shoulders shook.
“What is wrong? This isn’t like you. Has someone upset you?” Annis asked as she put her arms around Josephine’s shoulders.
Josephine shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
There was a loud ruckus just outside the hall. Annis and Josephine looked at each other, then Josephine quickly rubbed the tears away from her eyes.
The doors crashed open and Budic stormed into the room, his face red and serious. Annis and Josephine curtsied. If Budic saw them, he did not acknowledge them. Alden followed closely behind his brother. He glanced at Annis, nothing more than a glance, as if she were someone of no consequence; and she had to quickly blink away her own tears at his coldness and his rejection.
“This changes everything,” Budic yelled, sitting down with a thud on his throne. ”Where the hell has he gone now? MERTON!” Budic’s voice travelled the length of the hall.
Annis turned her head towards the door. Merton was dead. There was no way he could have survived.
“For the love of God, he was just outside.” Budic spoke loudly to himself.
“I’ll get him, Your Majesty.” Josephine offered, her eyes alight with joy, all signs of sorrow vanished.
“Go on then,” Budic commanded. “You can get out as well. I have had enough of Wessexes to last a lifetime.”
“Annis, go.” Alden translated into Latin, for Budic did not have the courtesy to speak in a language that Annis could understand.
“Alden?”
He looked at her then, but his eyes were hard and unreadable.
“You have been dismissed,” Budic bellowed in Latin as his temper got away from him.
Annis physically jumped and quickly curtsied. She was trembling as she left the room; whether it was from Budic’s rage or Alden’s coldness, she did not know.
Merton and Josephine were conversing in the hallway, their heads together, their eyes locked on each other. Annis stopped and watched them, feeling a tear slip down her cheek. There was something innocent, something sweet about the two of them. She could see love and adoration shining from Josephine’s eyes as she looked up at Merton. Josephine was in love with him, Annis realised.
Suddenly feeling protective of her new friend, Annis cleared her throat. Merton quickly dropped Josephine’s hands and then breathed out a very visible sigh of relief.
“You survived,” Annis said, her voice trembling a little as she stated the obvious.
“If you can call it that.” He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on Annis’s shoulders, turning her towards the candle light.
“What are you doing?” she asked, as a tremor of fear spread through her, for she remembered what it was like the last time he had held her in his arms, although this time, his touch was gentle and his eyes were clear of madness.
“Looking for a scar.” He placed one dirty finger on her neck where his blade had cut her.
“If there were, I would wear it with honour. You saved our lives.” Her voice still trembled, but she meant what she said.
Merton shook his head and took Annis’s hands in his. His clothes were in a worse state than before, ripped, covered in filth, and they stank. His hair was matted with blood, his own presumably, and his hands were black with dirt. Hooked through his belt, next to his sword, was her plait.
He saw her look and groaned. “I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to get you out of there alive.”
“Thanks to you, we did. If it wasn’t for you, then Alden and I…” She found herself unable to finish the sentence. There was no Alden and I anymore. “I thought you were dead. I thought…”
“Come here.” He pulled her softly into his arms. Annis leant her head on his shoulder. She saw Josephine looking at them with a soft look in her eyes, and she couldn’t stand to see the sympathy. She turned her face into Merton’s neck, not caring if he smelt of the battlefield, not caring it he had hurt her before. She understood what he had been doing and now he was offering her comfort, a strong shoulder.
“Bastian told me what happened here,” Merton whispered into her ears. “Alden loves you. He never looked at Edmee the way he looks at you. And he broke my nose defending you. Alden has never hit me before so it must be love.”
Annis felt silent tears slip from her eyes at his words, and Merton held her a little bit tighter.
“Budic is going to send Annis back to her father,” Josephine said.
“Budic won’t send you back to your father. Look at me.” He raised Annis’s head from his shoulder. “He won’t. I won’t allow it. Alden won’t allow it. Budic can’t ignore both of us, can he? And besides, I can be pretty persuasive.”
“He can be really persuasive,” Josephine echoed. “The amount of trouble he has got me into over the years by persuading me to do something I shouldn’t...”
Merton grinned at Josephine.
“It has already been decided. I revoked the handfast. Alden hates me.” She didn’t know why she was telling him these things.
“And you know that for a fact? He doesn’t hate you. It will be all right,” he whispered into her hair as she lay her head back down on his shoulder, hiding her face from the world.
“It will work itself out,” Merton reassured her.
The hall door opened and Alden stepped out into the low light. Merton stared at his brother. He was back from one war and had found himself in another. “Here,” he said in Cerniw, his preferred language. “Your shoulder will be more of a comfort to her than mine.”
Annis felt herself being passed, but she didn’t open her eyes. Warmth enveloped her as Alden’s arms drew her tightly against him. She whimpered and buried herself into his neck, letting the familiar smell of him wash over her. She was safe. In his arms, she was safe, and she savoured the moment. It wasn’t until the door shut that she raised her head and found herself alone with her once-husband.
“We need to talk,” Alden said, raising his hand and brushing her hair out of her face. His eyes were tender, caring, a complete contrast to how he had looked at her only moments ago in the presence of his brother. “But now is not the time. Budic is waiting for me. Meet me later, on the east side of the battlements before dusk. Promise me.”
Before she could answer, she found herself alone again, staring at a closed door.
Alden sat with his head in his hands as he listened to his brother describe how the King of Sussex was not only beaten, but totally vanquished.
“Your army should have been there.” Merton, who usually went to great lengths to pacify his eldest brother, spoke now with no such caution. “The only other kingdom who came out to support Natanleod was Durotrigia. That was it.”
“Who allied with Wessex?”
“Kent, Regia and Dumnonia, there was no way Natanleod could win against such numbers. I have never witnessed such a slaughter before. Men were dying on their feet, for there was nowhere for them to fall down.”
“And Natanleod?” Alden asked.
Merton shook his head. “He died and his five-thousand-strong army died with him. Cerdic beheaded him and held his head up to a cheering crowd. His body was mutilated, torn to pieces before my very eyes. I shall not forget it. You could have prevented his death. Why the hell didn’t you come when Alden asked you to?”
“And what is to say we would not h
ave been slaughtered as well?” Budic said, sitting down on his throne.
“Do you not want Cerniw back? Do you not care what is happening over there? Cerdic will continue to triumph, and do not think the channel will protect you from his ambition.”
“Benwick has never been breached,” Budic reminded him.
“There is always a first time,” Merton stated. “I saw his army, I have fought them. I know what he can do.”
“I told him how many troops he would need,” Alden said. “I should have said more. Dear God. I sent him to his death.”
“You sent him to his death,” Merton pointed at Budic. “Now the question is what the hell are you going to do about it? The other kingdoms will be waiting for your reaction. Natanleod was your brother-in-law; he was family. Are you going to avenge him? Or are you going to maintain the status quo, and confirm to the doubters that you are in fact a coward?”
“How dare you?” Budic growled.
“I dare a lot. You abandoned us — Natanleod, Alden, me, all of us — by your inaction. He has raped Cerniw. I have seen what he has done. Dor has been rendered to ashes; those that are still alive are starving and racked with sickness. How long will it be before Benwick is burnt to the ground, too, and your people are dying? You have to do something and you have to do it now.”
“I am already negotiating peace terms. And I am not to blame for this catastrophe. Alden brought this on all our heads when he ran off with Cerdic’s daughter.”
“I didn’t run off with her.”
“Oh, I forgot, she saved you and then you ran off with her,” Budic said sarcastically. “You seduced her, so do not lay the blame on me.”
“As normal, you have no idea what you are talking about,” Alden snapped back. “She helped me.”
“Lie to yourself all you want, Alden, but don’t expect me to believe you. Cerniw is lost.” He held up his hand to silence anything else his brothers had to say. “There is nothing I can do about that now. And as for Natanleod, what is done is done. I cannot rewrite history. He will be missed and we shall hold a Mass for his soul.”
“I am sure he would have preferred your army by his side than a Mass.” Merton retorted.
“You are angry and upset, Merton, so I will forgive you for your impertinence. But speak to me like that again and brother or not, I will throw you in the dungeon.” Budic rose and headed towards the door; he paused as he reached the door, his hand on the handle. “I am glad you are home safely,” he said over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought, and then he continued on his way, his breathing laboured and his footsteps heavy.
Merton waited for a moment, shaking with anger and then pulled up a chair.
“He will forgive me for my impertinence. Dear Lord, sometimes I want to bang his head against a wall.”
“This is all my fault,” Alden muttered, more to himself than his brother.
“Don’t flatter yourself. Cerdic will do whatever it takes to be crowned High King.”
“I shouldn’t have surrendered. You were right; we should have fought until the end. What have I brought on to my people? I thought I was saving them.”
“I saw him,” Merton said.
“You saw him? You saw who? Cerdic?” Alden asked, raising his head and looking at his brother inquiringly.
“Yes.”
Alden shook his head, not understanding. “Why?”
“I…” Merton chuckled nervously. “You know what I am like. I don’t always think. I said I was your ambassador and that I had a message for him from you.”
“And what was my message?”
“I told him that you had married his daughter and that you sought a peaceful conclusion to the recent troubles.”
“Was that before or after Natanleod’s defeat?” The question was important. If it were before then he would have appeared to play Natanleod falsely and as much as he loathed the man while he lived, he did not want his honour called into question. He would have fought on Natanleod’s side if he had been given the chance.
“After.”
“What did Cerdic say?”
“Congratulations?”
“I bet he did,” Alden returned.
Merton reached for his pouch, where he kept what little gold he carried with him, and pulled out a necklace. It was delicate, pretty, with stones the colour of jade. “He said if by marriage you hoped to gain your lands back, you had another think coming; and he said he would not pay any dowry for a daughter whom he no longer considered his. He said if he saw either of you again, he would kill you and make your deaths as slow as possible. This,” he handed the necklace to Alden, “was pressed into my palm by Cynric, of all people.”
“Annis’s brother? What does he want?”
“I questioned his motives myself. He said his sister was a damn fool running with the likes of you. But he said she was still his sister.”
Alden turned the necklace over in his hands, looking at it.
“It isn’t worth much.” Merton continued. “I had it valued by a man I trust. It is merely a trinket. I thought maybe it was meant as an insult. I don’t know. But he wanted you to have it.”
“What it does tell me is there is no way she can go back home. Budic has sentenced her to death by decreeing it so.”
“He has, which is why we won’t allow it,” Merton stated.
“Now push has come to shove, whom will you side with? Budic or me?”
“That depends on your intentions.” Merton answered carefully.
“I don’t want Benwick. I didn’t want Cerniw. I wasn’t born to be a king.”
“But you were a good king.”
“How could I have been good? I didn’t see Cerdic and his army coming, did I? Annis annulled our marriage.” Alden looked at Merton. “She annulled it.” He said again.
“What did you do with it?” Merton asked.
“With what?’
“The annulment?”
“I burnt it,” Alden said.
“I would have done the same. If there is no evidence, how can there be an annulment? And besides, an annulment has to be agreed by both sides. Did you agree?”
“Of course I didn’t agree.”
“Then she is still your wife. Handfast and binding.”
“I have never felt for anyone what I feel for her,” Alden admitted honestly. “She means everything to me.”
“And he knows that. Budic will use your weakness to manipulate you into agreeing with whatever he wants you to agree with. Tell him to go to hell and get the bishop to marry you.”
“He would hang me,” Alden frowned.
“But he couldn’t do anything about the marriage. God would be a witness and Budic could not go up against him.”
“Annis is a pagan and I would still be dead.”
“I never said the idea was perfect,” Merton teased. “She can convert,” he added in all seriousness.
“And Cerniw?”
“I haven’t given up on her yet.”
Alden smiled his relief at Merton’s words. But then he remembered what James had said and the smile fell from his lips. “What happened…after I was taken?” He dreaded the answer, but he needed to know.
“Wessex conquered your kingdom,” Merton replied, crossing his arms about him and taking a few steps away from his brother. He didn’t want to talk about what happened after.
“Before he did that?” Alden asked. He could see the unease in the way his brother was now holding himself, and he was avoiding eye contact. Merton looked just like he used to when he was a boy and had done something he should not have. “I saw you go down. How is it that you are still alive?”
“I made a deal,” Merton said, turning away from his brother. “I traded Wessex five geese and four chickens for my life. He was happy with the exchange,” he joked, but the jest fell flat
.
“I am being serious, Merton. I want to know what happened.”
“No, you don’t.” Merton abruptly turned back around.
Alden was shocked by the look in Merton’s eyes. He looked ashamed, and it wasn’t a look he had ever seen on Merton’s face before. He felt his heart leap in fear. He had to know what had happened now.
“Because if you knew. If I told you…” Merton spoke and then stopped.
“Merton — ”
“My only thought was to get to you,” Merton interrupted. “I didn’t know what I was capable of.”
“You have always been a better warrior than I.”
“He admits it. And there are no witnesses. Typical,” Merton said, mustering a smile.
“Merton, I just want an honest answer from you. I don’t want to play games. Tell me what happened.”
“What makes you think anything happened?”
“James said—”
“And when have you ever listened to anything that James had to say?” Merton challenged, a touch of anger in his voice. “Nothing of significance happened.” He smiled again although this time it was clearly forced. “They took you. We retreated. End of story.”
Alden could see through his brother’s lie. “You may be a master of deceit but you cannot lie to me. Just…tell me.”
“They pulled me from my horse and I fought for my life. An average day. Drop it, Alden. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Merton, you were surrounded. I remember because it was last thing I saw before they knocked me out.”
“Perhaps I am a sorcerer?”
“Merton, I am not in the mood —”
“Neither am I. I told you. I fought. They were our enemy; they were in the way between you and me, so I killed as many as I could.”
One lash for every Wessex soldier that was killed by his men. Alden closed his eyes briefly as he realised the reason Wessex had lashed the skin from his back. He understood now. It had been a sickening form of retribution. How Wessex must have laughed. “How many?” He heard the tremor in his voice as he spoke.
“I am sorry, I forgot to keep count. I had no idea I would be tested on it later,” Merton snapped back sarcastically. He sighed in frustration; he would rather speak of anything else than this. He didn’t want to tell him what had happened. He didn’t want to see the disgust in Alden’s eyes. Alden’s opinion was the only one that had ever mattered to him. To have his brother turn away from him or look at him differently would be difficult to bear. He had to fight the urge to flee from the room, like a child fearing a scolding. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He had done things that burnt away anything that was left of his childhood. So he could not flee. Anyway, he could not hide from the truth. What he had done was hardly a secret. Someone at some point would tell Alden everything. It was better he condemned himself; at least then he could do it in his own words.