The Beast of Caer Baddan (4 page)

“You shall not believe my good fortune!” Ardith cried, her face lighting up as if she would burst with joy.

Good fortune
.

Leola had been thus named because, on the night of her birth, a stag with great antlers had been spotted in her mother’s garden. It was a sign of the power and dignity of the cynings, far higher standing then even the earlmenn. By the stag’s appearance, wealth and good fortune had been predicted for Leola. It was said that she would be a blessing to any home. Perhaps her aunt had simply invented that story in hopes of getting Leola a rich husband. Now, orphaned and in debt, Leola doubted that a stag brought any good at all.

God is good
.

Thus she needed no fortune, which she was sure had long ago failed her.

But Ardith's voice went on, interrupting these thoughts.

“Father has given me permission to marry!” Ardith cried.

“That is wonderful!” Leola cried, pretending to be surprised.

Ardith clasped Leola's hands and pulled her around in a circle.

“At the feast, I shall have everyone looking at me,” Ardith said. “I shall have my pick of whomever I want.”

Leola giggled.

She knew that this was not entirely true, for if Ardith chose someone that was unacceptable to the earlmann, there would be no wedding at all.

“You will have a hard time deciding,” Leola said, in mock sobriety. “It is rumored that three of the sons of Wigmund Earlmann shall attend.”

They laughed again.

“Oh! I must show Father my new clothes!” Ardith squealed.

“Go on then,” Leola replied. “I have things I must do. We can talk later.”

Leola found the head servant in the kitchen and requested her extra pay for the embroidery she had done for Ardith's overskirt as that was not her usual work. The head servant counted out a few small coins for her.

“Are you going home, Leola?” she asked, her voice sharp.

“Yea,” Leola replied. “But I shall be back immediately.”

“Good,” the head servant said. “I need you to make more soap.”

“Yea.”

Leola did not mind making soap, for there were far worse tasks at the mead hall.

It was but a few months since Leola had begun working there for meager earnings, and it would be many more months before she had repaid the whole of her father’s court debts. She was not the only free person who served in the earlmann’s household, but she was the newest. The others who worked there were eager for her to know that her place was beneath theirs and thus treated her with contempt.

“Do not take too long,” the head servant said, with a growl.

“Yea,” Leola replied.

As she walked out of the kitchen, Leola noticed two of the slave women washing the banners for the mead hall. She felt their scowls on her as she went by. Leola did not blame them for their glares, as she knew that they were jealous of her long hair. Their own tresses were mercilessly cut short every week to distinguish their bondage. Leola tried to be polite to them and did not let their envy bother her.

I am only glad I'm not a slave
.

A hard hand was on her arm, with rough fingers circling around it. Before Leola could slip away, the grip tightened and pulled her in.

“Peace, Raynar,” she said, recognizing the man who held her firmly in his grasp.

He was a ridend, a warrior who had money enough to own a horse for battle. It was a prestigious position within the community but it did not mean one had better manners or a good heart. Raynar in particular, was a ridend whom Leola had long been wary of.

She was horrified by him grabbing her in such a way, but held her peace. She had always thought him to be a villain but now did not want to incite his wrath.

“Leola is it?” Raynar asked, his voice casual, his tone light.

She was surprised that he should know her name. Because her position in the community had diminished with her employment at the mead hall, she thought it strange that any ridend should take the trouble to discover anything about her. Least of all one as conceited and self-absorbed as she was sure Raynar was.

“Yea,” she replied, and her whole body cringed at the closeness of him.

“I see how Ardith keeps your counsel,” he said.

He nodded in the direction of the mead hall.

“She is a kind mistress to me,” Leola replied.

“I mean to make her my wife,” Raynar said.

God forbid!

“Persuade her for me,” he said. “I’ll pay the rest of your father’s debts to the earlmann, so that you shall not have to work there like this.”

“You overestimate my influence, Raynar,” she said, with a weak smile. “Ardith is of her own mind. I could never persuade her to marry anyone.”

“Admit it. I have seen all winter how she waits for you to finish working so that she can talk to you. She hangs on your every word.”

Leola grew uneasy.

Were you watching us? Following us? Listening to what we say?

“Think of it,” Raynar said. “Do you wish to work like some lowly slave until it is paid off? Besides, you know that I am the best warrior in Holton. It was I who won the victory at Donwy. Who is better than I to take the earlmann’s seat?”

“I must go,” Leola replied.

“Think on it.”

Raynar released his hold on her, and she curtsied politely and went. The further away she got, the faster her feet took her, until she was at her own hut.

Leola stopped and stared.

It was her parent's home. The place they had built not long after coming to the island some twenty-one years ago. They married and were soon expecting their first child. He had built up the mud walls and covered it with grass. She had placed the shelves for her jars.

Leola pushed open the door and went in. They had been dead for many months, and yet everywhere she looked, Leola found sign of their loving care. The wooden bench, table, and stools which furnished the living room were made by his strong hands. Her mother's jars for storing herbs and spices to make medicines still lined the shelves on the wall.

As Leola slid back the curtain that separated the living room from the bedroom, she was overwhelmed by the evidence of her parents' hard work. The bedding that made up three sleeping mats had been formed on her mother's loom. The hole in the corner of the room was dug out by her father for them to store grain over winter.

This is my home.

Yet it felt nothing like that now that both of her parents were dead.

The cheery, welcoming place it had been, was now dull, dreary, and sad, as if the walls themselves were in mourning.

Leola went to one corner and pulled back a small dirty stone to reveal the secret crevice her father had left in the wall. There she stashed the bit money she had received for her embroidery work with the few coins that she had already placed there. Leola could have paid
more of the debt off, but she knew that she would need this money for the next winter as she would have no time or resources to plant and harvest her parents’ land.

Somehow, I shall survive
.

Impoverished and employed as a lowly servant, Leola was not sure how.

We are strongest when we are weak
.

With that last thought, Leola covered it up and left the hut.

When she approached the mead hall, Leola noticed a small band of ridends stopped at the entrance, getting off of their mounts. Her heart jump up in her throat, as her gaze swept over their long smooth cloaks and freckled faces.

You are Britisc ridends!

The one at the head of the group looked over at her and stared. Leola held her breath, as his eyes traveled over her body.

Her right hand slipped behind her to the knot tied at the small of her back with her apron strings. Her fingers found the small knife that she carried tucked there away from view. It was merely an instinctive motion, for Leola was not even sure if she would have the fortitude to stab a man.

“Greetings,” the ridend said to her, but that seemed to be the extent of his knowledge of the Saxon language, for he continued on in Latin. “I have come to see your chieftain, Sigbert.”

Leola could not help but be shocked.

The Britisc were enemies to the Gewissae people, and even now the rumor was that the earlmann was planning an attack on Venta, one of the Britisc cities.

Why would Britisc ridends pay our ruler a visit?

Leola nodded to show the man that she understood his words and directed him to follow her. When she held the heavy door open for him to enter the mead hall, she felt his eyes creeping over her being.

Please do not stare at me!

She tried to stand still and confident but her anxiety threatened to consume her.

“Cadfan Aetheling,” the man said, both introducing himself and showing that he knew a second Saxon word.
“Prince Cadfan.”

Aetheling?
You are an aetheling?

Leola had never seen a Britisc aetheling before and was now unsure of what to say or do.

She bent her legs in a wobbling curtsy and repeated his words as an announcement.

“Cadfan Aetheling!”

Sigbert Earlmann was already walking forward to meet him. “Welcome! Welcome!” he said.

Leola did not wait to hear any reply or discover why a Britisc aetheling should come to Holton. She had soap to make and wished to be far from the strange man's intrusive gaze.