‘We will finish this business later, Madam.’ He slapped my arse and strode back into the hall, belching loudly as he went. Needing a few moments to regain my composure, I let out a long breath and smoothed my gown and as I did so I caught a movement from the corner of my eye.
‘Angharad. Oh, did you see that? The gall of the man, Ughh!’ She stood with her back to the wall, a jug of wine clasped to her chest, her black eyes watching me accusingly. She did not make reply and without sparing her another thought, I left her and hurried back to the hall.
The air was full of smoke and it was difficult to make out the musicians assembling before the dais, ready to sing. The hubbub of voices rose and fell in waves as the servants began to carry in the next course and the revellers fell upon the food. The scraps were thrown into the rushes and the dogs set up a squabble over the choicest leavings.
I looked about for Ffreur who had stopped to speak to some of the elders. I could hear the old woman enthusing about the likeness Ffreur bore to our mother and, unwilling to be trapped in tedious conversation, I quickly passed them by. Lifting my skirts, I prepared to ascend the steps of the dais and Penda heaved himself upright in his chair at my approach making my heart sink as I faced the task of fending him off for another four hours.
I looked about me for a diversion and noticed Cynfeddw wrestling with his nurse who was trying to take him to bed and, instead of taking my seat, I bypassed the visiting King to join Cadafael and my son. With hands on hips, I cast a disapproving eye upon him until he stopped struggling.
‘Good night, Cynfeddw,’ I said firmly and he scowled before placing a sulky kiss upon my proffered cheek.
Good night, Mother.’
Ffreur was still engaged in conversation but, seeing them as a lesser evil to Penda, I changed my mind and went to join them. Ffreur looked up and saw me, indicating to the old woman that I approached but as I drew near, the sound of a harp rippled, like a flooding tide, across the hall.
I stopped. Ffreur paused mid-sentence, her hand flying to her mouth and my own heart almost ceased its rhythm. I fought to breathe as, with pain in my throat, I looked across the hall to where, burnished gold by the light of the flaming fire, Osian stood waiting to sing.
Three
I could not move. He did not look for me although he must have known I was there but when his voice erupted into the smoky air, I knew his words were for me alone. Tears stung my eyes and a confusion of throbbing tenderness simmered in the pit of my stomach as he sang about a maid enamoured of a travelling player. But their love was forbidden by her father and they were forced to part. As Osian sang, each syllable, every note that floated across the void between us, vibrated with truth.
Now, I recognised my dream beneath the lynden tree as a foretelling of the future. Osian and I would be together again, and soon. How and when did not matter for he was there, in the circle of my vision and my ears and heart were full of his music.
He sang several more times during the course of the night and, although I resumed my place at Penda’s side, I paid him scant notice. I no longer minded when he recommenced his intimate exploration of my thigh my mind was far away, roaming the night skies with Osian. Poor Penda, although he continued to monopolise me for the rest of the evening, I have no memory of his words. I leaned forward in my seat, my elbows on the board and rested my chin in my hands while my eyes drank in the beauty of the minstrel.
That night I tossed and turned, rose from the bed to pace the chamber until at last, I gave up the struggle and threw on a cloak and slid from the room. In the hall men, over-full with mead snored, some with their heads on the table and some sprawled about the floor. Dogs crept among them, feasting upon scraps dropped in the rushes and in the far corner one of Penda’s men coupled ferociously with a hearth wench. They did not notice my presence and as I slipped out into the night they reached the pinnacle of their pleasure, their cries of delight masking the sound of my footsteps.
It was a cold, bright night, the idiot face of the moon floating in a sea of stars. Keeping a wary eye out for observers I hurried across the enclosure, stopping suddenly when I detected a sound. With my heart beating hard I scanned the precinct hard by the stables.
A figure was pacing back and forth, muttering curses beneath his breath. At once I recognised the straggling hair, the brawny chest, the glint of golden arm-rings. I slid down the wall into the shadows and bit my lip, a dim recollection of agreeing to Penda’s proposal of a lover’s tryst. With my mind so full of Osian, had I agreed?
Indecisively, I waited, trapped in a pit of my own making, wondering what on earth I could do. If he caught sight of me he would think I had come to fulfil my promise. The memory of that single kiss flashed upon my inner eye and my stomach revolted at the thought. I choked back vomit. He was more repellent than Cadafael.
I hesitated for some time, watching his impatience increase until his curses grew louder until, with an exclamation of frustration, he turned his back, loosened his leggings and stood ready to piss against the stable. I took my chance and, at the first sound of his water splashing against the wall, I dived into the night and sped toward the outer gate.
The moon, suddenly shy, hid briefly behind scudding clouds and the buildings that clustered to the settlement wall became indistinct in the darkness. I hunched in my cloak and assumed a limp, keeping to the perimeter and once safely through, I slipped onto the hillside and stood for a while regaining my breath. The night was bright and cold, my exertion visible like dragon’s breath.
Then the clouds lifted, briefly illuminating the landscape. Far below, the waters of the mere glimmered silver and the wood clustered in dense shadow at the foot of the hill. I would go to Ceri. She would work some magic and tell me what I should do.
Dodging across open ground, I hurried to the safety of the wood, my cloak pulled high about my face. I slid into the shelter of the trees, slowing as the darkness grew deeper and creeping blindly onward, my arms held out before me, unable to see my way ahead. When someone roughly seized my left hand I screamed aloud, struggling to loosen his grip.
A fist held me fast, dragging me forward, my heart thumping in fear as I realised Penda had followed. His pace was brisk and I stumbled behind him, the aroma of loamy soil rising from the disturbed woodland floor. When we reached a place where the canopy opened above our heads and the light of moon filtered through the branches, he stopped and spun me around.
‘Heledd.’ His lips were on my neck, his arms tight about me. I could not speak. ‘I have thought of you every day, every hour.’
I threw back my head, offering my throat.
‘Every minute,’ I groaned before our lips locked together. At last, desperate to breathe, I pulled away and looked into Osian’s face. ‘Are you mazed? You risk your life coming here like this.’
His eyes glistened with joy, his recklessness contagious.
‘I don’t think I care. Oh, my love, when Cynddylan asked me to accompany him here, I could not refuse. My life is miserable without you. Death would be a small price to pay.’
He began to push my kirtle from my shoulders and it took all my will to stop him. Lifting his face from my bosom he looked at me questioningly, his lips parted as he panted desperately.
‘Not here, Osian. Not like this, as if I were a whore. It is unsafe and unsuitable,’ I pleaded. ‘Let me make arrangements. If this is to be our last time together, I want it to be perfect. I will send one to you tomorrow that I trust.’
He groaned and pushed a hand through his hair before nodding.
‘Make it soon, Heledd, soon.’
He was upon me again, his fingers knotted in my hair, his tongue wet upon my skin. My body screamed with longing. I wanted to give in to him and let him take me, there on the woodland floor and it took all my will to wrench myself away. I backed off.
‘Tomorrow,’ I whispered and, turning from him, whirled along the path. He called after me but I did not allow myself to look back. I burst through Ceri’
s door, with my soul on fire, breathless and dishevelled.
Her raven shrieked and something stirred in her sleeping place. With a curse she crawled from her bed and peered at me through the darkness, noting my heaving chest and dishevelled hair.
‘My queen,’ she cackled without surprise, poking the fire back to life. ‘What brings you here so hot …and at this hour?’
She gestured for me to sit and I tipped a cat from the stool and perched, hugging my knees and leaning toward her.
‘You must help me, Ceri. I have need of a very great favour. I will reward you well. Better than ever before.’
She handed me a cup of something warm and comforting and settled opposite me at the fire.
‘You had better tell me all about it,’ she said and, fixing me with a keen eye, she prepared to listen to my tale.
Ceri’s hut was not the most obvious trysting place but I could think of nowhere safer. The settlement was accustomed to women sneaking through the wood at nightfall for a potion or a charm against evil and there was no reason for Osian’s movements to be monitored. If we were careful all should be well.
I dismissed my women early, pleading the headache and threatened Gwarw with death should she admit anyone to my chamber, even the King. She scolded me as against her will she scented my body, brushed out my hair so that it crackled and shone. When I encased myself in her drab grey cloak, she scowled and called me a slattern. She believed my assignation was with Penda and, to my shame, I did not put her right.
‘Shut up, Gwarw,’ I said, leaving a kiss on her forehead. ‘I am a grown woman and keep my own counsel. I will be back before dawn.’
I crept along the path and through the door of the hut. The interior was dark, the aroma that resembled decaying mushrooms familiar to me now. Ceri had made herself scarce and Osian was already waiting, poking the sulky fire with a stick. He sprang from his stool and dragged me into his arms. This time I could not have stopped him had I wanted to.
There was no waiting.
Feverishly we struggled with lacings and fastenings and when we were full naked, fell laughing into Ceri’s malodorous bed. He was ready, we both were, and he took me in haste and with little finesse but we had no time to spare for the gentle rituals of love. It was not long before we lay gasping side by side upon the straw-stuffed pillow, my hair snarled and my heart racing like a leverets’.
He shifted onto his hip, resting his head on his hand and stroking my belly with the other.
‘I cannot believe we are really here, you must tell me everything that has happened.’ He spoke quietly, unwilling to break the spell that lay upon us.
Glad of the poor light, I told him of my heartbreak at leaving Pengwern, my distaste for Cadafael and the meagre satisfactions I had as Gwynedd’s queen.
‘I think of you, Osian, in the midst of night when I am alone. I stare at the moon and wonder if you are seeing it too.’
The firelight glinted on his hair as he smiled his warm, slow smile.
‘I usually am.’ His voice was husky. ‘Sometimes I curse myself for not risking the wrath of your brothers and speaking out, laying my claim to you.’
An alternative life flashed before my eyes, a life in which I married him, lived the life of a commoner. It was a heart-warming picture but I blinked it away and sat up, scooping my hair back into a knot. My breasts stood out proud and when his gaze fastened upon them his smile negated the moistness of his eye.
‘I know my duty, Osian. I was raised to be a queen and I try to be dutiful. I want to make my brothers proud. Oh, but when I am with you all that disappears. It is only when we are together that I can ever truly be Heledd.’
‘Don’t,’ he knelt up, wiped a tear from my cheek. ‘Don’t cry. There will be time for weeping later.’
His kiss was gentle. I turned up my face to him, leaned toward him, mutely asking for more. His lips moved across my face and along the curve of my neck. Lifting my hair, he left a trail of saliva between my shoulder blades and along my spine, making me shiver. Then, he shifted round, sinking his face into my belly, gripping my hips, his tongue tracing the tell-tale tracks around my navel. I winced a little, hoping he should not see the marks that proved I had borne another man’s child but the feeling was fleeting.
My skin quivered, goose pimples following in the wake of his mouth, my breath catching in my throat, my breasts rising and falling as I waited for his lips … and for his tongue. Arching toward him, I tangled my fingers in his damp hair, letting out a squeak of delight as he ensnared me in tortuous delight. I opened my mouth, tilted back my head, my body a dancing cataract, cascading with delight. Then I slumped back, sated, a foolish smile on my face and he slithered up my body, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
‘Osian,’ I flushed. ‘My goodness.’
I did not have the words I needed and he let out a burst of laughter, pulling me into his arms again.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’ I asked, but I was glad when he declined to answer.
I had spent many wakeful nights during our years apart, missing him, pacing the floor, recalling his face, remembering his touch. Those nights had seemed endless, my misery frozen in unforgiving darkness but that first joyous night we shared at Ceri’s hut passed in the blinking of an eye and, before we knew it, the cockerels were screeching in the dawn.
He watched me dress, mourning each layer of clothing that I put on and then he rose to help me fasten my cloak. It seemed awkward to stand fully clothed against his nakedness, as if I were his shameless seducer. He gently kissed my cheek, his hand lingering, stroking a reluctant path down my face until it fell limp at his side.
I opened the door and stepped outside. As I crept along the fern fringed path, the dew soaking my thin slippers my heart hung like a stone. The night had passed so quickly and we might never be together again. Suddenly I remembered a thousand things I had left unsaid and in all my life I had never felt worse than at that moment of parting.
At the curve in the path, where the trees began to thin, I turned back for a last look. He raised a hand, his body gleaming alabaster in the half-light and his hair shining like spun gold but, as I stepped into the sunshine the darkness closed in upon him, extinguishing the joy from my world.
Four
I need not have worried for we did enjoy other meetings, fleeting times that always ended too soon. The war council lasted many weeks as Cadafael and my brothers wrangled with Penda about the best course of action and I managed to spend three nights in seven with him in Ceri’s noxious bed. It was not long before my impatience for the day to end so that I could slip away to be with him piqued Ffreur’s curiosity.
‘What is it, Heledd? You are as jumpy as a louse.’
‘No, I’m not,’ I retorted, my face burning. She made a disbelieving sound but I bent my head to my stitching again and changed the subject, calling Angharad to bring refreshments.
She placed a tray of nuts and berries on the table before retreating to her seat and taking up her distaff again. It was quiet in the chamber, the only sound the crackle of flames and the gentle tic of Gwarw’s snores. I let my mind slip back to the previous night when, impatient to be with him, I had arrived at Ceri’s far too early. Tonight, although it would be so hard, I must force myself to wait until it was fully dark. It was to be our last night, perhaps forever, for in the morning the men would ride away to make war on the North Umbrian King.
Ceri had a new fur-lined cloak and some sturdy boots and her winter stores were replete with grain and turnips. With my life balanced precariously in her withered palm I had paid her well to ensure her loyalty. So familiar had I become with the path to her cottage that I could find my way along it blindfold. She greeted me with a crooked smile, handed me a fortifying drink and watched as I drank it. She looked up suddenly, alert to Osian’s approach before I was although he was still some way off.
‘Oh, he is a fine looking fellow,’ she leered at him as he turned the bend in the path. ‘Were I a y
oung gel I might have to fight you for him.’
A laugh consumed her and, as she rocked to and fro on her stool.
I smiled too. ‘You forget, Ceri, I was raised in a family of boys and can wrestle with the best of them.’
We chuckled a while longer and then she sobered, munched on her gums for a moment. Then she nodded at my stomach. ‘What’ll you do about the babe you carry?’
My hands flew instinctively to my belly. ‘What do you mean?’
I stared at her, fear and joy mingling in my bosom. Surely it was far too soon for any pregnancy. She reached out and balanced my breasts in her palms.
‘I mean, child, that you are carrying the musician’s babe. Shall I make up a potion to be rid of it?’
My stool flew away as I sprang to my feet. ‘No, my God, Ceri! Oh, what shall I do?’
The thought of aborting Osian’s child was hateful; there must be another way. I glanced from the door to where my lover turning in at the gate as Ceri patted my arm.
‘Don’t worry about it now. You just enjoy your last night together. We will find a way out of it, you and I.’ Then, snatching her cloak from its hook by the door and winking appreciatively at Osian as their paths crossed on the threshold, she left us alone.
‘What is it? Why are you crying?’ He came to me, lifted my hair and left a kiss where my neck and shoulders joined.
I dashed away a tear. ‘I wasn’t aware that I was. It is just that this is our last meeting. This time our parting may be forever.’
It was easy to lie to him. He stood behind me at the hearth and put his hands round me, cupping my breasts. ‘Nay,’ he whispered. ‘Not forever, I swear it.’
That night our lovemaking was prolonged and intense, as if he sought to possess as much of me as he could in the time remaining to us. When we parted at dawn I crawled, miserable and exhausted, back to my chamber and told Gwarw to plead sickness so I should be spared the ordeal of watching him ride away. I didn’t give a thought to the fact that my husband and brothers were riding away also, perhaps never to return and with grief too deep for tears, I lay curled into myself like a dormouse beneath the covers while Gwarw, still believing that I mourned for Penda, patted my hand and shuffled off to make my excuses.
The Song of Heledd Page 8