Bertrice Small - To Love Again

Wulf grinned at his wife. "Truly Flavius Aspar and Byzantium lost a valuable strategist in you, lambkin." Then he turned to his prisoners, his look fierce. "Ragnar Strongspear is dead," he told them. "Harald Swiftsword, will you swear fealty to me? If you do, I will not oppose your taking of Ragnar Strongspear's lands. You are, I think, your master's natural heir. His sons are too young to be strong neighbors."

"What of my father?" Aelfa demanded. "He is Ragnar's brother. Should he not inherit my uncle's lands?"

"Why would you want your father to have what your husband could have, Aelfa Gunnarsdottar? If Harald does not claim Ragnar Strongspear's lands for himself, he will never have anything of his own. If he is strong enough to hold them against your father, why should you mind? Do you not desire to be a great lady?"

"I am strong enough to hold those lands for myself," Harald bragged loudly, and turned to the other men. "Are you with me?" he demanded, and they cried their assent. Harald turned back to Wulf Ironfist. "Then I will swear to be your man, my lord, and keep the peace between us. Aelfa, what say you?"

"Yes!" she said. "It was decided long ago between us, Harald, and if I would take you landless, I would certainly not reject you when you are about to become a great and propertied lord."

"Then," said Wulf Ironfist, "I will free you all!" and they cheered him loudly.

Ale was brought, and a toast drunk to the peace between Wulf Ironfist and Harald Swiftsword. Then they prepared to march from the hall, but Wulf took Harald aside and told him, "Beware of the lady Antonia. The lands you now claim were her family's lands for many generations. Perhaps you might take her as a second wife to keep her from another man who might attempt to gain those lands through the woman."

"I thank you for the advice," Harald replied. "It might not be such a bad idea. Ragnar always said she was bad-tempered, but the best fuck he had ever had in his life. Under the circumstances I must either wed her or kill her. I'll think on it."

"Best to marry her," Wulf said. "She and Aelfa will battle each other constantly, and consequently keep out of your business."

Harald laughed. "Perhaps you are right," he said slowly. "Yes! I know you are!"

When they were gone, and the morning was beginning to take on a more normal tone, Wulf took his wife by the hand and led her out into the summer sunlight. They strolled together amid the ripening grain.

"This incident has made me realize that we cannot remain at Cadda-wic," he told her. "It is too prone to attack here in its narrow valley. The hills press too closely about us. We cannot see our enemy until they are almost upon us. I have ordered a new hall to be built at Brand-dun for us. It sits upon a hill, and we cannot be taken unawares by an enemy. We will continue to farm these fields and tend to the orchards that once belonged to your family, but we will no longer live here, lambkin. Will you mind very much?"

Cailin shook her head. "No," she told him. "Though I have many happy memories of the house in which I grew up, it is gone. The earth is drenched with my family's blood, and now the blood of Ragnar Strongspear as well. I do not think I could remain here even if you wanted me to, my lord."

He nodded with understanding, and she continued, "In my childhood the roads that the Romans built to connect the towns they erected in Britain became unsafe. There was a time, not in my memory, but surely in my father's memory, when those roads were safe; but then the legions left, and with them the way of life we had known for centuries departed as well. No one would have dared to attack the estate of Gaius Drusus Corinium or Anthony Porcius in that faded past. Times are different now, Wulf, and your people are a different people. To survive we must change, and I think we can do so without sacrificing the values that we hold dear. You are not like Ragnar Strongspear or Harald Swiftsword. You are a different kind of Saxon. Your feet, like mine, are not mired in the intractable past. You, too, dream of a future that cannot even be imagined by most. I will gladly go with you to Brand-dun! There is nothing left for us here at Cadda-wic but memories. I will discard the bad ones and leave them behind. The good ones I will carry in my heart always. Ohh Wulf! We almost lost each other once, but the gods ruled that we should be reunited to love again. I am so happy!"

"Mama! Mama!" Aurora came running through the fields toward them, her silky golden hair flying, her little legs pumping for all they were worth. "Mama!" Behind her Nellwyn came, carrying Royse.

Cailin swept her daughter up into her arms and covered the child's face with kisses. "I missed you, my darling," she told her daughter. "Did you miss Mama?"

"Are the bad men gone, Mama?" Aurora asked nervously.

"They are gone forever, and will never come back, I promise you, my daughter," Cailin answered the child, hugging her.

"When shall we leave for Brand-dun?" Wulf asked his wife, his heart full with his love for this brave woman who was his mate.

"Today!" Cailin said. "Have our men take our things from the hall. We will burn what we can of it, and tear down what is left. It is finished."

"Where are we going?" Nellwyn asked as she came abreast of them.

Cailin took Royse from her servant, praising her bravery. Then as she sat down upon the ground and put her son to her aching breasts, Wulf explained to Nellwyn what had been decided. When he had finished, and while Royse suckled greedily, Cailin said to her husband, "Nellwyn must have a husband. She desires Albert. Will you arrange it, my lord?"

"I will," he said, "and gladly! Your loyalty saved our children's lives, Nellwyn. It is little enough repayment. Albert is a very lucky fellow, and I shall tell him so."

Wulf gave the order to empty the hall of their possessions, and as it was being done, he climbed to the solar. Ragnar Strongspear lay spread upon his back, naked, and as white as a fish's belly. There seemed to be blood everywhere. Gingerly, Wulf pulled the man's head back, for it had fallen upon his chest. His eyes were wide and sightless, and there was a look of surprise on his face. The gaping wound shocked him. Ragnar Strongspear's throat was deeply slashed from ear to ear. How had she done it? His delicate lambkin did not seem capable of such a savage act, but he could not deny the evidence of his own eyes. It was certainly a most mortal wound, and hardly the sort of death a man would want to face. At best, a man died in battle. At worst, of old age in his bed. To die at the hands of a frail woman was shameful. There would be no Valhalla for Ragnar Strongspear. He would likely haunt this place forever. Cailin had been correct. They could hardly sleep and make love in the place where Ragnar had attempted to rape her, and where she had killed him.

"Is the hall cleared yet?" he called down.

"Aye, my lord," a voice answered him. "We are ready to fire it."

"Hand me up a torch," Wulf Ironside said. "We will start here." When the torch was given to him, he set fire to the bed space where Ragnar Strongspear lay. Then tossing the torch aside, he climbed down into the hall and directed his men to set the rest of the building alight.

He exited the burning hall, to find Cailin awaiting him, already mounted upon her mare. Aurora was seated before her mother, and Nellwyn was settled in the cart, Royse in her arms. He looked at his wife, and their eyes met in silent understanding. He looked at his children and smiled. Aurora and Royse and the children who would come after them were a bright future. He no longer feared a dark destiny. Whatever happened, the years ahead would be golden with their love and the hope of a better world to come.

Mounting his stallion, Wulf Ironfist smiled at his wife, and Cailin smiled back at him. With his love to sustain her, she thought, she could face any obstacle and overcome it. "I love you," she said softly, and was thrilled when he responded, "I love you, too, lambkin." Together they rode away from the bleak past and into a shining tomorrow.

The Celtic tribes of Britain faded into history as they intermingled their blood with that of the newcomers. Only in Cornwall and Wales could any strong evidence of them be found again in Britain.

The Saxons, the Jutes and the Angles poured into Britain in increasing numbers seeking land and a decent future for their peoples. For the next six centuries their combined cultures spawned kingdoms with names like Northumbria (which combined Bernicia and Deira); East Anglia, Mercia, Kent, Essex, Sussex and Wessex. Kings with names like Albert, Ethelred, Edward, Aethelswith, and Edwin ruled. Britain became England, the land of the Angles.

Then in 1066 the Normans arrived to take England by conquest. Once more another culture combined, and mingled itself and the blood of its people with that of those who had come before them. This is the way of the world even today. Nothing remains the same… ever.

I hope you have enjoyed To Love Again. Next year Ballantine and I will bring you Love, Remember Me, the story of Nyssa Wyndham, the daughter of Blaze; and her many adventures in the court of Henry VIII, and two of his queens, the clever and witty Anne of Cleves, and the charming, but foolish, Catherine Howard. Until then I wish you much Good Reading!

Bertrice W. Small

Southold, NY, and, soon, Tryon, NC

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