The Beast of Caer Baddan (26 page)

The knight gasped and seized his neck as blood splattered from the wound and his gaping mouth. Leola watched in horror as his body contorted and finally collapsed in the dirt. She glanced down at the knife in her hand. Though covered in red blood, it gleamed back at her with a sort of sinister zeal.

Sir Diras was still struggling with Drudi. He tried to grab both of her wrists, and she tried to scratch his pale face.

Fridiswid was on him in an instant.

She caught his neck in a loop in the center of her rope and pulled the ends taunt. His head flew back at the force, and his arms flailed, releasing Drudi who fell over into the dirt.  Sir Diras chocked and scratched at the twine under his chin.

The women finally ran out to help.

One took up one end of the rope, and Fridiswid tugged on the other.

“Beat him!” Fridiswid cried, pulling hard.

Redburga rushed to obey and struck the knight’s armored body with the spade she had just brought in from the field.

Sir Diras struggled against them, gagging and kicking at the women who now formed a circle around him. His right hand slipped a gleaming knife from his belt.

“Beat him!”  Fridiswid yelled.

Redburga whacked at his forearm, hitting his metal armplate over and over until she caught the space where the iron ended, leaving his wrist exposed. The ridend's hand broke, the knife fell to the ground, and blood squirted from the deep wound the spade created in his wrist.

Sir Diras opened his mouth wide to scream, but Fridiswid yanked the rope with all her little body. His head flew back then forwards again and hung limp.

Drudi peeked her head out from under her arms and looked over at the ridend.

“Is he dead?” she asked, in bewilderment.

“Yea,” Fridiswid replied, her voice coming in halted gasps. “He is most certainly dead.”

Her hands were covered in her own blood, where the skin had been ripped from her fingers by the rough rope.

“I hate Britisc!” Drudi screamed.

She pulled herself to her feet, spit on the knight’s horrific face, and began to curse him.

“Frige torment you! Saexnaet slay you! Hel take you!” she cried.

Her mother grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away to
their own hut.

“Everyone, go wash,” Fridiswid said. “Clear your minds and meet me in the evening at the mead hall.”

“Where are you going?” one woman asked.

“To get rid of these horses,” the dryhtcwen replied.

“What?” another woman cried. “But we have no horses! All of ours were taken off to war by the men! We can use them!”

“Certainly not!”
Fridiswid replied. “If any other Britisc come looking for these ridends, they would find the horses here and know that we have killed them.”

Some of the women seemed disappointed but others stared at the dryhtcwen in complete dread.

“We shall all die!” they cried.

“Silence!”
Fridiswi said. “Do not lose your resolve. Clean your hands and calm yourselves. I shall ride the horses out three miles and tie them someplace where the wolves shall get them. No one shall ever connect these ridends with this town.”

She mounted one animal and took the reins of both, coaxing the animals forward, out of the village.

Leola had watched everything that happened after the first knight collapsed. She now doubled over on the ground and vomited until her throat burned.

She felt a gentle hand take her by the shoulder. “Leola,” her aunt said. “I’ll help you wash.”

Redburga helped her to her feet and they went back towards the hut.

Leola's weary eyes caught the blank expression of the woman Bebbe, who was still sitting on the barrel in her own yard, oblivious to the commotion.

What a mess this is!

It was agreed between Redburga and Leola that the twins should stay in by themselves for the duration of the women's meeting. The twins protested.

“What happened?” Erna asked.

“Where are the knights? Ead asked.

“Go to bed,” Redburga said.

“But it’s not sleeping time!” they cried.

“Why can’t we go to the meeting too?” Erna cried.

“We can be quiet and not interrupt!” Ead cried, as if anticipating their mother’s next response.

“You shall stay in the bedroom,” Redburga said. “Stay!”

She gave them the stern eyes of a mother who was not to be crossed.

“Yea, Mama,” they said, slipping back into the bedroom.

Redburga and Leola wrapped their shawls around their shoulders and walked out.

The evening was fast approaching, as they made their way down the road. The bodies of the Britisc knights were still there, lying idly by the well in the center of the village. Leola noticed the shine from the polished blade of Sir Diras' knife and the blood splatters on the ground from Sir Catocus' neck. The stench of her vomit made her queasy once more.

“Come on, Leola,” Redburga said.

Leola started at these words for she had not noticed that she stood there still.

They walked to the far end of the village to the mead hall, which was already ringing with noise.

“We shall all die!” the women cried.

“Women,” Fridiswid said, “we must be calm if we are to weather this storm.”

“What do we do?” one asked.

“They’re going to kill us!” another replied.

“Silence!”
Fridiswid cried. “Enough wailing!” the dryhtcwen's voice became calm but determined. “We are not going to die. We are going to stay here and rebuild this town from the start.”

“But what about the bodies!”

“We must hide the bodies.”

“Hide? They shall be found, and then we shall be killed!”

“No,” Leola said, suddenly finding her voice. “The dryhtcwen is right. We can hide them where they cannot be found.”

“Where?”

Leola glanced at Fridiswid, who seemed to indicate to her to continue.

Leola took a deep breath and willed her tongue to speak.

“Under the Britisc’s trophies,” she said at last.

“Trophies?” Fridiswid said, bewildered.

“What do you mean?” Redburga asked.

The news would be disheartening, but now Leola was compelled to reveal it. As Drudi was both absent from the meeting and seemed to have forgotten the entire discovery, Leola purposely left out the girl’s involvement.

“The boys,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I found them.”

“Their bodies!” one of the women cried.

“Their heads,” Leola replied.

She cringed as the sound of their weeping filled her ears.

“If we put the bodies beneath the boys’ heads, the Britisc shall never look for them there,” Leola said. “It is the only safe thing to do.”

“I agree,” Fridiswid said.

“But we cannot do that!” the women cried. “They are our sons!”

“Then what better way to honor them then to give them an offering of Britisc ridends?” Fridiswid replied. “We shall do it. It is the only safe and just thing to do. Who is ready?”

“I am!” one cried, and the rest soon followed.

“Leola,” Fridiswid said, “you must show us the way.”

“Yea,” Leola replied.

As they went out, Redburga seized her arm.

“You found them and did not tell me?” she cried, her eyes swelled with tears.

“I didn’t want to upset you, Aunt.”

“Oh, Leola!” but her aunt could say nothing more.

The women wrapped the bodies in rough blankets and dragged them off into the woods. Leola led them to the pit where Drudi had found the boys’ head but a few months before. The heads had already been ravaged by wild animals, yet there was still enough flesh to decompose and the cold air would not mask the heinous smell.

Leola stood at a distance while the other women, who were not pregnant and far less queasy as she was, moved the heads and rolled the bodies down into the pit. They wept as they placed the heads on top.

“Which one is my brother?” one said.

“Which one is my son?” said another.

Redburga was too upset to speak.

Fridiswid came to Leola’s side.

“I commend you,” she said.

“As I do you, dryhtcwen,” Leola replied.

It was a true statement, for Leola was impressed by the tiny woman’s courage and fortitude. She knew that neither Ardith nor Ardith’s long departed mother could have completed any of Fridiswid’s difficult tasks. The dryhtcwen may be disliked, but Leola felt that she was exactly what Anlofton needed at that time.