Authors: Bertrice Small
“Do not be fooled by her dignity and manners, girl,” he told her. “Beneath it all she is a woman, and a fiery woman, I will wager.”
The sleepy and surprised inhabitants of Cadda-wic were roused and brought before Ragnar Strongspear. Outside, the men-at-arms were rounded up, subdued, and marched into the hall, including the half-conscious Bran-hard.
“This place is now mine by right of conquest,” Ragnar said in a sonorous voice. “No harm will come to you if you obey my wishes. If you try to rebel, you will be killed. Now start your day as you normally would, and someone bring me some food. I am fair starved!”
For a moment they looked at him, still but half awake, and totally unaware of what they should do. How had this happened? How had Ragnar Strongspear gained entry to Cadda-wic? It was a common thought.
“You will obey Ragnar Strongspear for now,” Cailin said as she came into their midst. “I want none of you harmed.” She was very beautiful in a dark green tunic dress decorated with gold threads. Cailin turned to Ragnar and demanded in proud tones, “How came you here?”
His eyes devoured her. By Woden, she was a beauty, and he would have her this night beneath him! “By means of a Trojan horse,” he answered her. “Do you know the story? Antonia told it me.”
Cailin nodded. “I know the tale well,” she said, and then a light of understanding dawned in her eyes. Her gaze swept the room and found what it was seeking. “Aelfa,” she said. “Aelfa was your Trojan horse, was she not, Ragnar Strongspear? Who is she?”
“My brother Gunnar’s eldest daughter. She is fifteen, and very wily,” he said, chuckling.
“The girl, Aelfa, has betrayed us,” Cailin told the gathering of her people. “She is Ragnar Strongspear’s niece.”
A terrible groan arose from Bran-hard. “Bitch!” he cried, and then flung himself before Cailin. “Lady, you must forgive me! I desired her, and she knew it. She came to me last night as I kept watch and offered herself to me. Then she fed me drugged wine to render me unconscious. It is my fault that the hall is taken! Forgive me!”
“You are a fool, Bran-hard, but get up and go about your duties. What is done is done, although you are not likely to escape some punishment from my husband when he returns,” Cailin told him.
Bran-hard scrambled to his feet. His complexion had a decidedly yellow-green tinge to it. He looked as if he would be sick at any moment. “Thank you, lady,” he managed to gasp.
Cailin realized now that the reason Aelfa had fixed her attentions on poor Bran-hard and the hapless Albert was that
they were the two men assigned to the gatehouse. Each took his turn in rotation, keeping the watch through the night. Aelfa did not care for either of them, and poor Albert could have just as easily been her victim had he been on duty last night. It was only bad luck for Bran-hard that it had been his turn.
“How did Aelfa communicate with you?” Cailin asked Ragnar as they seated themselves at the high board and the hall regained some semblance of normalcy. “I sensed something wrong, but did not know what.”
He looked eagerly toward the end of the hall for the servants who would soon be coming from the cook house with the morning meal. Ragnar well remembered the good table Cailin kept. “I had a man on the hill watching from the day you found her at your gates,” he told Cailin, and then he gulped down the good brown ale poured into his cup. “I’ve never tasted better,” he complimented her with a grin.
“Yesterday,” Cailin said slowly. “She contacted the man yesterday afternoon when she slipped out, ostensibly to berry, but she took no basket with her. I knew it a lie, but not the reason for the lie.”
The food was now beginning to arrive. Ragnar took his knife from his belt and cut himself two thick slabs of ham. He helped himself to several hard-boiled eggs and a small loaf of bread. “More ale!” he commanded the attending servant, then he asked Cailin, “Where are your children, lady? I hear you had a son but a few weeks back. That bitch Antonia lost my child after the solstice. It was a son, too. She is a bad breeder, but you will be a good breeder for me. Did you know that I am going to make you my wife, Cailin? The first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew that I wanted you. My Saxon women are good creatures, loyal and hardworking, like milk cows. Antonia is a viper, but sometimes a little poison is sweet. You, however, my little fox vixen with your russet curls, will give me the greatest pleasure of all.”
“I have a husband,” Cailin said quietly. She was not afraid of this braggart. He could not have taken Cadda-wic without treachery, and he would be driven out.
“I will kill Wulf Ironfist,” Ragnar bragged.
“I think rather he will kill you,” Cailin replied quietly.
“Your children?” he demanded again. “Where are they?”
“They are gone,” she said with a small smile.
“That cannot be!” he roared angrily, furious, for her children were the weapon he intended to use against her. “How can they be gone?” The veins in his thick neck stood out clearly, and they were throbbing.
“You gained entry to Cadda-wic by means of a ruse, Ragnar Strongspear,” she said. “I was already awake when you entered the hall. At first I believed my husband had returned. I opened the door to look down, and saw you. My son was newly fed, and so I awoke my daughter. I dressed both children, and while you were bragging and bellowing and attempting to put the fear of the gods into my people, I brought my children down into the hall, gave them into the keeping of my servant, Nellwyn, and watched while she walked through the gates with them. Your men were so busy trying to bully mine that they never even noticed Nellwyn pass them by. She is now well on her way to Braleah. You will not catch her, I think,” Cailin concluded, laughing lightly.
“Braleah?
What is that place?” he growled.
“One of the villages belonging to Cadda-wic,” she told him. “Surely you did not think we were alone but for a few of my Dobunni kin? Cadda-wic has four villages belonging to it. You will be unable to hold them, if you can even find them. Nellwyn will raise the alarm against you, and Wulf Ironfist will come with many men to drive you out. If I were you, I should finish my meal and hurry home.”
“What a woman you are!” he answered her, grinning. “Even if I were to take your advice, I should take you with me, Cailin. You are not simply strong and beautiful, you think like a warrior. I do not believe I should like such a trait in any other woman, but it becomes you, my fox vixen. By Woden, it becomes you well!”
Cailin sipped her watered wine and ate heartily of bread, ham, and hard cheese. She had nothing more to say to Ragnar
Strongspear. Finally she stood up and strode from the high board.
“Should I stop her, lord?” Harald asked nervously.
“Are the gates
now
secured?” Ragnar demanded sarcastically.
“Aye, lord!” Harald said.
“Then let her be, you fool. Where will she go that I cannot find her? She is, I suspect, about her daily duties, and nothing more.”
Cailin was, but she also made the rounds of Cadda-wic reassuring each and every member of the household with her calm manner.
“What shall we do, my lady?” Albert asked her nervously. He was more than well aware how close to disaster he himself had come.
“Do not resist,” she told him, as she had the others, “unless, of course, your very life is threatened. Go about your daily duties as you normally do. Wulf Ironfist will come soon, and he will drive Ragnar Strongspear back to his own lands. Do not fear. Nellwyn will raise the alarm, and Ragnar Strongspear’s only advantage was in surprise. He no longer has that advantage.”
Cailin moved on. In early afternoon she gathered the women about her, telling them, “I will not allow anyone to abuse you. Hide yourselves in the cellar beneath the largest grain barn. Do it as soon as you can, and remember to bring water skins. Do not come out until morning, when I shall come to fetch you. Hurry now!”
“But what of you, lady?” one of the serving women asked.
“I will not be harmed,” Cailin assured them. She had already decided what she must do. If she could not deter Ragnar Strongspear from his lustful intent, then she must kill him.
Her breasts were beginning to ache dreadfully, and looking down, she grimaced with irritation. Her milk was beginning to leak through her nipples and stain her tunic dress. Royse last nursed in the early morning. Nellwyn would have
found a nursing mother for him at Braleah, and Cailin knew she would have to do something to rid herself of her milk.
Cailin took bread from the bake house and a small cheese from the dairy. The servants would have put several pitchers of water in the solar, as was the usual practice. Entering the hall, Cailin saw that Ragnar Strongspear was not there. With a chuckle she climbed up to the solar and, pulling the ladder behind her, bolted the door fast. There was no other ladder available that would reach the chamber. She would be safe for a time. Removing her tunic dress, she sighed at the sight of her soaked camisa. She pulled it off, too, and then expressed the milk from her swollen breasts into an empty basin. Immediately she felt better, and washing herself off, she put on clean garments.
She could hear fresh activity in the hall below. She had given her menservants orders to serve the evening meal as usual, and deny the intruders nothing in the way of food and drink. She had to keep Ragnar Strongspear and his men as content as possible until Wulf Ironfist returned. Cailin had absolutely no doubt that her husband would come, and when he did, he would regain Cadda-wic. No one was going to take this land from her,
from them
. She had been born here, as had ten generations of her family. They would live on through her children.
No one would take these lands from her again!
Not Ragnar Strongspear. Not Antonia Porcius.
No one
.
“Lady? Are you in the solar?” She heard Ragnar Strongspear calling up to her. “Lady, I would have you join us at table. Come down.”
“I am ill,” Cailin answered him. “The excitement of today has been too much for me, Ragnar Strongspear. I must rest. It has been but a short time since I gave birth to my son. I am yet weak.”
“You would feel better, lady, if you ate. It will help to build your strength up. Come down, my little fox vixen. I will feed you dainty morsels of meat from my own plate, and give you sweet wine to ease your distress,” he told her in dulcet tones.
Cailin smothered her giggles. “I think not, Ragnar
Strongspear. I am best left alone,” she replied, and then made a series of rather convincing noises to give the impression that she was retching, and quite close to vomiting. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, sounding quite desperate.
“Perhaps you are better alone,” he agreed nervously, and she heard him hastily moving away from below the solar door. “I will see you tomorrow, lady.”
Nothing, Cailin thought with a mischievous grin, discouraged a lustful man from his chosen path more than a woman threatening to disgorge the contents of her stomach in his lap. She tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and sliced a wedge of cheese off the piece she had taken. She washed them down with cool water from a pitcher, and then sat down to work her tapestry.
When the light had faded from the sky, so that she could no longer see what she was doing, Cailin sat quietly listening to the sounds from the hall below. The men were growing drunk. She could tell by the high hilarity, the laughter, and the singing. Occasionally she heard the sound of breaking crockery and was angered. It was difficult obtaining good Samienware now. Eventually, however, the din lessened, and finally the hall grew silent.
Satisfied that the intruders were sleeping a drunken sleep, Cailin arose and stretched. She was exhausted with the tension involved in keeping a step ahead of Ragnar Strongspear. With her very last bit of strength, she shoved two storage chests over the solar door for extra protection. The windows were much too narrow for anyone to get through. She wondered what had happened to Aelfa. The bitch would have been the only woman in evidence tonight. Cailin removed her tunic dress and lay down in her bed space. How long would it take Wulf to return? She wondered, and then fell into an uneasy sleep.
She awoke automatically, as she always did and, arising, went to the window to look out. The sky was already growing light, and she could see smoke coming from the bake house. Her breasts were full again, and she once more expressed her milk. Cailin splashed water on her face, relieved
herself, and quickly dressed. Pushing the chests away from the solar door, she slipped the bolt silently. Opening the door, she lowered the ladder to climb down into the hall.
About her she observed Ragnar Strongspear and his men sprawled in their drunken slumber. There was absolutely no sign of Aelfa, but then the wench was no longer her concern. The hall was a shambles of overturned benches and tables, broken pottery and vomit. Cailin wrinkled her nose distastefully. The rushes would have to be changed immediately. The hall door had not been bolted, and so she slipped out into the courtyard. Although the gates were barred, she could see no one on duty.
Hurrying to the bake house, she entered and asked the baker, “Where are the men? There is no one in the yard.”
“I do not know, lady,” the baker replied nervously. “I have not left the bake house since the intruders came. I am safest here, I think.”
“Aye,” Cailin agreed, “you are. Do not fear, Wulf Ironfist will come soon, and then these men will be driven from Cadda-wic.”
Cailin left the bake house and hurried to the storage barn. “Come out,” she called to the women servants. “It is morning, and the invaders lie drunk in the hall. It is safe now.”
The women climbed up from the cellar beneath the barn and stood before their mistress. She viewed them carefully. Two were young and very pretty. They were still apt to be in danger, but the others, older and plainer, would not be unless the men were very drunk and very randy. She sent the two pretty maids to the bake house.
“Tell the baker you are to remain with him. You should be safe if you stay there. If any of Ragnar Strongspear’s men come in, keep your heads down, your eyes lowered, and if you must look up, twist your faces to look ugly. It may be your only protection. Go now. The yard is safe and empty. Our men seem to have disappeared.”