Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) (18 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

Caelin
dunked his head into a bucket of icy water and came up gasping. The water was
colder than he had expected. It had been a chill night and although it would
warm during the day, a thin crust of frost lay upon the ground. Caelin sat back
on his haunches and splashed water over his naked neck, shoulders and chest. He
shivered as he pulled a sleeveless tunic over his head before belting it around
his waist. The freezing water dissolved the fog of fatigue that hung over him
most mornings. They worked him from sunrise until after dark, and the precious
hours that he spent sleeping never seemed long enough.

Each
morning he had the task of emptying the privies in the barracks. It had to be
done first thing and Raedwald had already had him whipped for failing to work
fast enough. Caelin pulled on his boots over his leggings and walked across the
deserted yard, towards the barracks. He did not wish to draw attention to
himself today; he wanted to be as a wraith, beneath the notice of all. It would
make it easier to slip away tomorrow while the handfast ceremony was taking
place.

Today
would be his last in Rendlaesham.

The sun
was rising; golden light spilling over the treetops to the east as Caelin
climbed the steps to the barracks. Tomorrow he would see the sunset as a free
man – but the prospect, which had kept him going over the long, hard winter, no
longer thrilled him. The reality was that Eafa and Raedwyn would marry on the
morrow, and no amount of freedom could remove the bitterness that had taken
residence in Caelin’s gut. He could not bear the thought of proud, brave and
beautiful Raedwyn being wed to Eafa the Merciful – but short of killing the
man, and being slain for the act himself, Caelin had no choice but to follow
through with his plans. He had considered taking her with him, but they would
never be safe from Raedwald and his desire for vengeance.

Caelin
reached the barracks and found them empty. The warriors had risen early to go
hunting. Beginning his task of emptying the stinking privies, Caelin reminded
himself that escape was the only option he had left – he had been a
privy-emptying lackey for too long, and he missed the feel of a sword in his
hand. Raedwald had confiscated his sword, Shadow Catcher, upon his capture. He
had seen it since then, hanging from the wall inside the Great Hall – a trophy
for the king to gloat over. When he was free, he would have another sword made.
The only way Raedwald would take it from him would be from his cold, dead
hands.

When he
had emptied the last privy, Caelin returned to the stable complex, stopping at
the trough outside to scrub his hands. Inside the stables, Alchfrid tossed him a
hunk of stale bread to break his fast. Sebbi and Immin had already eaten and
were outside harnessing the horses that would plough the fields outside
Rendlaesham once the frost thawed. Today, the four of them had the
back-breaking chore of walking behind the plough and clearing the stones from
the turned earth.

“It will
be warm today,” Alchfrid said after swallowing his final mouthful of bread.
“The sweet smell of spring is in the air.”

Caelin
raised a dark eyebrow in response.

“What have
you got to be pleased about? None of us will be able to walk upright by
sunset.”

Alchfrid
shrugged and took a gulp of water to wash down the dry bread.

“There’s
to be a wedding tomorrow,” the Northumbrian replied, “which means it will be a
day of rest for us for once.”

“It’s not
a day to celebrate,” Caelin answered, unable to mask the bitterness in his
voice, “Eafa will send his new wife to an early grave, like the last one.”

Alchfrid
frowned, his blue eyes gleaming in the half-light inside the stables.

“Aye,
that’s true enough,” he admitted, watching his friend shrewdly, “but there’s
nothing you or I can do about it Caelin. Don’t take it so hard.”

Caelin
opened his mouth to reply but the arrival of one of Raedwald’s thegns
interrupted him. The man loomed in the doorway, took one look at Alchfrid and
Caelin, and shook his fist.

“You two –
stop yapping like crones and get your arses outside!” he roared. “Anymore
slacking and I’ll have you both whipped!”

Bowing
their heads as the cowed slaves they had learnt to be, Caelin and Alchfrid
followed the thegn outside and helped harness the rest of the horses to the
ploughs. Then, as the sun rose into the heavens, Caelin, Alchfrid, Sebbi and
Immin followed the other theow through the town and out into the fields to
begin a long day of work.

***

 Raedwyn
awoke early and sat at the window of her bower, watching the sky lighten. She
had slept fitfully during the night; a regular occurrence these days, and when
she had slept she had dreamt that Eafa was chasing her through a dark forest,
his cold voice calling her as she ran. The nightmare still lingered as Raedwyn
dressed slowly and strapped a knife to her right thigh. She hoped she would not
have to use it, but the feel of the cool metal against her skin made her feel a
little safer.

Finally,
Raedwyn smelled the aroma of freshly cooked griddle bread and knew she could
linger no longer in her bower. She joined her mother at the table and was
thankful to see the men were all absent.

“Raedwald
has taken Eafa hunting,” Seaxwyn informed her with a tired smile. Masking the
relief that flooded through her at the welcome news, Raedwyn nodded and took a
seat at the long table. She broke off a piece of griddle bread and dipped it in
the gruel.

“There is
much preparation that still needs to be done for tomorrow,” Seaxwyn said,
pouring herself a cup of water. “I will need you here with me today to help
with the decorations and your dress needs some finishing touches.”

On the eve
of the handfast ceremony, Raedwald’s hall pulsed with industry. The decorations
were to be even more lavish than for Raedwyn’s wedding to Cynric, with feasting
and reveling long into the night. Ever since Eafa’s arrival, Raedwald had been
in high spirits. He had even become affectionate towards Seaxwyn again,
although he still treated his daughter coolly.

After
servants cleared the remnants of food away, Seaxwyn got to work. She ordered
the servants to open the two doorways at either end of the hall to let in the
fresh morning air and had them scour the interior of the building clean. They
removed the old rush matting; filthy after the long winter, and replaced them
with clean mats.

Raedwyn
sat outside the main entrance, on the narrow terrace above the steps leading
down to the stable complex, and painstakingly embroidered the finishing touches
on the gown she and her mother had made for her wedding. The dress was the most
beautiful Raedwyn had ever seen – what a pity she was not looking forward to
wearing it. It was pale blue, like the morning sky in summer, with a delicately
embroidered hemline and sleeves.

The breeze
was cool but the sun warmed Raedwyn’s face as she worked. Now and then she
would glance down over Rendlaesham. Despite her decision to put him out of her
thoughts in daylight, Raedwyn found herself scanning the town, hoping to catch
a glimpse of Caelin. However, he was nowhere to be seen.

***

The men
returned in the early afternoon with their horses laden with spoils from their
hunt; deer and boar carcasses slung across their saddles. Raedwald and Eafa
traveled together at the head of the column and rode into Rendlaesham like
brothers. Eafa was in a good mood as he entered the Great Hall. Raedwyn had
been helping the servants prepare seed-cakes. She had her back to him, bent
over slightly as she rolled the dough into rounds and flattened them with the
palm of her hand.

Eafa’s
gaze devoured her, taking in her long hair that flowed down her back, the dip
of her waist and the curve of her hips and rounded buttocks. The woolen dress
she wore hugged her form deliciously and made his mouth water; he could barely
wait for his wedding night.

Every day
here was slow torture. Raedwald and Eni’s loudness got on his nerves, while
Eorpwald’s quiet appraisal irked him. The king’s whelp had nothing to be
supercilious about. Raedwald’s firstborn, Raegenhere, had been a much finer
specimen of a man, muscular and virile like his father. Eafa did not like the
shrewdness in Eorpwald’s gray eyes, nor the way he was quietly amused by
everything. Like Eorpwald, Eafa was a man who gave little away and as such knew
what a dangerous trait that was.

“Milady.”
Eafa stepped beside Raedwyn and placed a hand on her arm. She jumped like a
startled rabbit before looking up at him. She met Eafa’s gaze boldly and that
pleased him. No one had broken her spirit yet. He had observed her often during
the last four days and her lack of fire had irritated him. He had begun to
think she was not the girl he remembered. Now he saw some of her spark return.
She did not like him touching her. Her arm under his hand tensed as if it took
all her will not to wrench it away. A lazy, calculating smile crept across
Eafa’s face and he reached out and stroked her cheek.

“Soon
Raedwyn you will be mine,” he whispered, “and then you will have to suffer my
touch.”

Raedwyn’s
jaw set and anger kindled in her eyes. She stepped back abruptly and Eafa
dropped his hand. If they had been alone he would have struck her across the
face for her defiance. Anticipation burned within him and he cursed the night
that still lay between him and his prize.

***

Her
encounter with Eafa left Raedwyn unsettled for the remainder of the afternoon.
She busied herself in the hall but kept a watchful eye on her betrothed,
careful not to let him catch her unawares again. The afternoon passed quickly,
while outside the sky clouded and a cool wind sprang up. Finally, the sun sank
towards the western horizon.

Raedwyn
removed the last batch of seed cakes from the griddle and brushed crumbs off
her hands.

“Mother,
I’ll be back soon. I need some fresh air.” Raedwyn fastened her cloak about her
shoulders and gave Seaxwyn a tired smile.

The queen
nodded, weariness etching her own face. “You’ve worked hard today Raedwyn. Take
a stroll, not too long mind for rain clouds approach.”

“I have my
cloak, I will not stray far,” Raedwyn promised before she left the hall and
took a deep breath of the cooling air as she stepped outside. Slowly, she
descended the steps outside the hall, relishing the peace of solitude. Raedwyn
had almost reached the bottom of the steps when a voice behind her chilled her
blood.

“Milady,
may I join you on your stroll?”

Although
he had phrased it as a request, Eafa the Merciful’s tone of voice brooked no
argument. He appeared at Raedwyn’s side and solicitously took her arm.

“I saw you
leave the hall and thought it would be a good moment for us to spend some time
together.”

Raedwyn
schooled her features into a passive mask and nodded, not trusting herself to
speak lest Eafa hear the dread in her voice. Unspeaking, they resumed their
walk. Eafa hooked his arm protectively around Raedwyn’s and once they had
passed through the gates in the wall encircling the Golden Hall, Eafa steered
her through the township, towards the back gates.

 “Tell me
Milord,” Raedwyn made an attempt at conversation. “I have never been to Mercia.
Is it as beautiful as these lands?”

“More
beautiful,” Eafa replied, his voice dispassionate, “Green and wooded. Your
father’s hall appears a thatched barn in comparison to the stone walls of Tamworth.”

Raedwyn
sucked in her breath. “It must be distasteful to you to sojourn in such foul
accommodation.” She could not keep the ice from her voice. Even if she was no
longer welcome here, Rendlaesham had forever been her home. The beauty of
Raedwald’s ‘Golden Hall’ had become common knowledge throughout Britannia.

Eafa
laughed and the sound chilled Raedwyn.

“I am
willing to put up with such discomfort in order to marry you dear Raedwyn.” He
slid his hand up the inside of her arm. “I grow weary of waiting. I must have
you.” He stroked the soft skin under her arm sensuously. “Your virtue matters
not anymore, does it?”

Raedwyn’s
heart started to race. Was he intending to take her to a secluded place so he
could rape her?

She
considered screaming and drawing attention to them, but Eafa’s grasp on her arm
was an iron band. No one would prevent the Mercian lord from escorting his
betrothed for an evening walk. Raedwald would be furious if she offended her
betrothed.

“Tomorrow
you shall be mine,” Eafa continued, “but I think I deserve a taste of the honey
that I will soon own.”

Fear
closed Raedwyn’s throat – then she felt drops splatter against her face and
looked up. Dark clouds had rolled in overhead from the east, blotting out the
remnants of the dusk and throwing the landscape into shadow. Overhead, the sky
rumbled.
Thunor
was on the move. Raedwyn imagined Thunor, the god of
thunder, careening across the sky in a chariot drawn by his two male goats,
‘Tooth-gnasher’ and ‘Gap-tooth’, bringing with him the rain. Her fear blossomed
into panic; Eafa would use the approaching storm to his advantage. Everyone
would be sheltering from the rain and there would be no one about to see him
drag her away.