Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) (3 page)

Eanfled
made a dismissive sound but Raedwyn knew her friend had been upset to learn
that Raedwyn would not be in Rendlaesham for her and Alric’s handfast ceremony.

Outside
her bower, Raedwyn could hear raucous laughter. The mead was flowing freely
now. Taking a deep breath to still the nerves that had dulled her appetite,
despite her empty stomach, Raedwyn exchanged an excited grin with Eanfled, drew
back the tapestry and re-entered the hall.

Cynric
spied her immediately.

“Ah, there
goes Raedwyn the Fair,” he boomed across the hall. His face was florid from the
copious mead he had drunk since his arrival. “And I am relieved to see the
stories of your beauty were not exaggerated! You are a goddess my Lady!”

Raedwyn,
not shy by nature but not used to such bold statements, felt her face grow hot
in embarrassment. Suddenly, all eyes were on her and she felt dozens of male
gazes rake her, head to toe.

“Come
Raedwyn.” King Raedwald beckoned his daughter over to her place near the head
of the table. The king and queen sat at a table on a raised dais. Below the
high seats ran two long benches. Raedwyn took a seat in-between her brother
Eorpwald and her uncle Eni at the head of one of the tables. Opposite her sat
Eni’s eldest son, Annan, and Cynric. Raedwald’s thegns and most prized warriors
sat nearby, closest to the king and queen, while the younger men sat on the
other side of the fire pit.

Raedwyn
could feel Cynric’s stare as she picked at her piece of roast boar. The hall
was loud with the crackling and spit of fat in the fire pit and boisterous conversation.
Smoke from the cooking tinged the air.

Raedwald
was in fine form tonight. The mead had relaxed him and distracted him from the
pall of melancholy that hung over him these days. He put an affectionate arm
around his wife as he regaled his audience with stories of the adventures he
and Eni had shared in their younger days. Raedwyn laughed with the others at
the banter that flew between the two brothers. They were good men, her father
and uncle, noble men.

Torches,
soaked in oil, hung from the walls and their fire illuminated the handsome
lines of Cynric’s face and glittered off the gold and silver rings he wore on
his arms. It was too bold to stare at him but Raedwyn kept her eyes averted
with difficulty. She had her mother’s strong-willed nature and the role of coy
maiden did not sit well with her. She had grown up as the only young female in
a household filled with strong, dominant men and with a father who had relished
her feisty nature. However, Raedwyn understood instinctively that not all men liked
strong-willed women and so she behaved demurely at the table. She nibbled
daintily at the meat and bread before her and only took occasional sips of
mead.

“You’re
quiet this eve sister.” Eorpwald washed down a mouthful of bread and roast boar
with mead and eyed Raedwyn. “You’re not usually at a loss for words.”

Raedwyn
threw her brother a withering look. She and Eorpwald had never understood each
other.

“I think I
like this new, lady-like sister of mine,” Eorpwald teased. “She’s much less of
a handful.”

Raedwyn
rolled her eyes and resisted the childish urge to stick out her tongue.

“It’s not
long now dear brother before you shall be rid of me for good,” she replied
sourly.

“Then our
father’s hall will become a much sadder and duller place,” Eorpwald replied,
the teasing tone now absent from his voice.

Raedwyn
gave him a sharp look, unsure whether he was still making fun, but Eorpwald was
no longer looking at her. He was a small and sinewy young man with mousy hair
and heavy-lidded gray eyes; a sharp contrast to the other blond, blue-eyed and
physically imposing men of the Wuffinga line.

Eorpwald
often irritated Raedwyn. He was observant but indirect and she found him sly
compared to her beloved late brother Raegenhere. He would often look on with
barely concealed amusement at Raedwyn’s exuberant, pragmatic behavior, unfazed
by her coolness towards him. Eorpwald’s relationship with their mother and
father had always bemused Raedwyn. He often appeared ill at ease in his
father’s hearty company, and relations between Eorpwald and the queen were
distant, bordering on cold. Seaxwyn had always treated Eorpwald like her other
children and Raedwyn noticed it was he, rather than she, who was standoffish.  

Raedwyn
watched her enigmatic brother for a moment longer before turning her attention
to her betrothed. Cynric took a gulp of mead from his bronze cup and saluted
her. This time Raedwyn held his gaze and smiled back.

***

The
Handfast ceremony took place at noon. Raedwyn stood before Cynric in her
father’s hall. She felt like a queen, dressed in a magnificent gown threaded
through with gold and with flowers woven through her hair. This was not a
Christian but an ancestral ceremony that took place on the day sacred to the
Goddess Frigg, protector of marriage and childbirth. Raedwald had converted to
Christianity and had worshipped at the altar of both religions simultaneously
for many years, even if he was not a Christian at heart – much to Seaxwyn’s
joy, for the queen had always remained loyal to the old gods.  

“Do you
both enter into this bond with a free will?” King Raedwald’s voice echoed in
the silent hall. Beside him, Queen Seaxwyn looked on, intently watching her
daughter’s face.

Both
Cynric and Raedwyn nodded their assent.

“Is there
anyone present who protests at this union?” Raedwald continued.

A brief
silence followed Raedwald’s words before the king spoke once more. “Then make
your pledges.”

Cynric
turned to Raedwyn and looked into her eyes.

“I,
Cynric, pledge to defend my Lady Raedwyn, with my life.”

“And I,
Raedwyn, pledge to never harm nor bring dishonor on my Lord Cynric.”

Then
Cynric knelt and picked up a sword sheathed in a gem-encrusted scabbard. “Take
this sword, Dragon Hammer, as a token of my fidelity.”  He gently placed the
sword in Raedwyn’s hands.

Raedwyn
looked down at the gift. The sword was heavy in her hands, a valuable and
exquisitely crafted weapon. Now it was her turn to give him a gift. 

“Take this
shield as a symbol of my family’s protection.” She handed Cynric a great lime
wood shield studded with an iron boss. He took it reverently, admiring its fine
craftsmanship.

Then
Cynric reached out and clasped Raedwyn’s left hand in his. He had large, blunt
hands; rough and coarse compared to his fine physique and handsome face. Queen
Seaxwyn stepped forward and wrapped a ribbon around their joined hands.

Cynric and
Raedwyn looked into each other’s eyes and Raedwyn’s heart pounded nervously as
they spoke the next words in unison.

“May we be
made one.”

Seaxwyn
unbound the ribbon and passed it to Raedwyn, before they shared a small cup of
mead. Cynric sipped from the cup before passing it to Raedwyn. She took a sip
and returned it to Cynric who drained the rest in a single draught. Then they
shared a piece of honeyed seed cake. It felt oddly intimate for Raedwyn to
break off a bit of cake and gently feed it to Cynric while he did the same. An
ancient ritual, only the bride and groom were allowed to eat the seed cake. The
seeds represented fertility and abundance while the honey symbolized harmony
between the new couple. Raedwyn hoped the seed cake would indeed work its
magic. 

The
ceremony ended with Cynric pulling Raedwyn into his arms and kissing her. It
was a brief, hard kiss that crushed Raedwyn’s lips against her teeth. The crowd
cheered exuberantly and Raedwald stepped forward to congratulate his new
son-in-law. He then enveloped Raedwyn in a bear hug.

Burying
her face in her father’s chest, Raedwyn felt like a little girl again. Despite
her eagerness to be married, now it had happened she did not want to leave
Rendlaesham and her father’s protection. Raedwyn fought back tears and stepped
back from the king.
You’re not his little girl anymore
, she reminded
herself as she gave her new husband a bright smile and took his hand in hers,
it’s
time I grew up
.

Well-wishers
swirled around the newly wedded pair and the festivities began.

***

  That
eve, nervous despite the mead she had drunk throughout the day, Raedwyn sat on
the bed in the bridal chamber, in an annex at the end of the Great Hall, and
watched her new husband undress. He was a big man and broad across the
shoulders. He deftly removed his clothes, not looking at Raedwyn as he did so.
His chain mail vest fell to the floor, clinking like gold coins. Under it, he
wore a linen tunic with a silk border and loose breeches that were
cross-gartered to the knee. He removed these, still not looking in Raedwyn’s
direction, until he stood naked before her. He had a virile, mature body that
bore the scars of many battles. A curly mat of blond hair covered his chest,
and the sun had tanned his face and arms a ruddy gold. The areas of his body
where the sun never touched were milk-white. He walked over to where Raedwyn
sat, staring at him.

“You’re a
curious one aren’t you?” he said. “Stand up.”

Raedwyn
did as ordered, only to have him pull the long, ankle length tunic she had
changed into over her head in one practiced motion, revealing her nakedness.

“Very
nice,” Cynric murmured as he took a long look at her body. Strangely, even
though he had gazed into her eyes during the Handfast ceremony, he would not
look her in the eye now they were alone. 

“Nice
large ones.” He squeezed her breasts hard, making her squeak in protest. His
big hands moved down her torso, over the dip of her waist and the curve of her
stomach until he gripped her bottom. “I like a girl with a bit of meat on her,”
he said appreciatively.

Raedwyn
felt her face grow hot, as much from annoyance as embarrassment. He was making
her feel like a juicy side of pork, rather than a beautiful, desired woman.
Despite her irritation, she could feel a curious heat building between her
legs. He was naked, big and handsome and he was standing so close she could
feel the warmth of his body touching hers.

Cynric
pushed Raedwyn back onto the bed and parted her legs wide, staring at what lay
between them. Raedwyn saw his face was now flushed with excitement and his
erection thrust up, quivering with anticipation, towards her from a nest of
blonde curls. Raedwyn’s mouth went dry, whether from fear or desire she could
not decide.

Cynric’s
hand slid down her belly and dipped between her legs – the tingle of pleasure
it brought made her gasp aloud. That was the only encouragement Cynric needed.
With a grunt, he leant over her and kneaded her breasts like bread dough before
pushing his hand between Raedwyn’s thighs and rubbing so hard she cried out
again, this time in pain. 

Mistaking
her cry for one of pleasure, he shoved her legs so far apart she felt her hip
muscles cramp before he thrust his way inside her. Pain knifed through Raedwyn.
The urge to scream and rake at his face to get him off her was overwhelming.
With a strangled cry, she managed to stop herself and bit down on her bottom
lip. Then, Cynric jerked his hips violently and drove himself deeply inside
her. 

Oblivious
to his bride’s agony, Cynric bent her legs back and started to pound into her,
watching his own performance as he did so. Raedwyn gritted her teeth. He could
have been bedding any woman. He had not looked at her face once since they had
entered the chamber. She writhed in an attempt to escape the pain; her thigh
and hip muscles were held at such an uncomfortable angle the muscles were now
burning. 

Fortunately,
Cynric’s passion did not last long. He thrust and grunted for a short while
before his face screwed up in an expression more reminiscent of pain than
pleasure and he let out a hoarse shout. Then he collapsed on top of Raedwyn and
promptly fell into a mead-induced slumber.

Raedwyn
lay on the bed, pinned under the heavy body of her new husband, and stared up
at the rafters. All was quiet except for the distant barking of a dog. The rest
of Raedwald’s hall slept peacefully but Raedwyn knew she would not sleep
tonight. A single torch burnt on the wall, casting long shadows across the
bridal chamber her mother had decorated lavishly for this occasion. 

Dry-eyed
Raedwyn continued to stare up at the shadows playing across the timbered
ceiling. So that was how it was between men and women?  Would Eanfled have to
endure the same agony with Alric? She had seen animals approach mating with
more tenderness than she had just endured. Cynric did not make love; he rutted
like a frenzied ram. He had not shown any tenderness towards her. He would rut
until he got her with child and then once she gave birth he would rut some more
– groping at her body until he tired of it.

The
thought made bile creep up into the back of Raedwyn’s throat but still she did
not cry. She had married Cynric of her own free will and there would be no
going back.

Chapter Two

A short
while before sunrise, Raedwyn finally drifted off to sleep. What seemed like
moments later, she awoke as Cynric rolled off her and belched. The torch had
long since burnt out, cloaking the chamber in darkness. Raedwyn feigned sleep
as Cynric stumbled across the room to use the privy. Then he threw open the
shutters and watery sunlight poured into the chamber. Raedwyn opened her eyes a
crack to see gray skies outside, before quickly closing them. Too late, Cynric
had seen she was awake. 

“Roll over
my lovely,” he climbed back onto the bed and tweaked her nipples so they stood
up hard against her pale skin. When Raedwyn did not respond he pushed her over
onto her face and pulled her up onto her hands and knees.

“What a
lovely arse!” he exclaimed, slapping her hard across the rear. “It makes a man
hard just to look at it!” 

Then, as
if to prove his point, Cynric gave his new wife a repeat performance of the
night before. Raedwyn screeched and tried to claw her way off the bed as he forced
himself into her. Cynric ignored her protests, grabbed her hips and lifted them
to meet each thrust.

“That’s
right my lovely, squeal!” he grunted. “I like a bit of noise!”

At his
words, Raedwyn promptly bit down on her tongue and endured the ordeal in stubborn
silence. Cynric took his pleasure once more, and by the time he collapsed on
top of Raedwyn she had curled up in agony. 

Raedwyn
clamped her eyes shut and felt tears sting behind them – to think she would be
forced to endure this repeatedly for her entire married life. How had her
mother suffered it?

Cynric
eventually rolled off Raedwyn, slapped her naked bottom and, whistling
cheerfully, pulled on his clothes. Raedwyn waited until he had left the chamber
before she gingerly rolled off the bed. In the privy she examined herself – she
was swollen and bruised, and her thighs were smeared with blood. Anger flooded
through her as she carefully washed herself.

The pain
made it difficult to walk but Raedwyn managed to shuffle across the chamber to
where her mother had laid out her clothes for traveling. She dressed in a long,
fitted, tight-sleeved tunic with a thick blue woven wool over-dress. Around her
waist, she buckled an embroidered leather belt. She pulled her hair back into a
bun at the nape of her neck and concealed her hair with a cloth veil.

It was
then Raedwyn noticed the brooches. They sat on a stool next to her nightstand. 
The brooches were beautiful – polished nuggets of amber in a nest of gold.  She
knew they were from Cynric and her first instinct was to hurl them out the
window. However, these were Cynric’s
morgen-gifu
or ‘morning gift’. As
it was customary for a man to give his new wife a present on the morning after
they had spent their first night together, she felt obliged to keep them.

Raedwyn’s
hands trembled as she picked up the brooches. She was using them to fasten her
cloak to her shoulders when the tapestry covering the chamber’s doorway parted
and Seaxwyn hesitantly poked her head into the chamber.

“Raedwyn?”

Upon
seeing her mother’s face, Raedwyn’s self-control dissolved. She burst into
noisy tears.

“Raedwyn!”
Seaxwyn hurried across the chamber and enfolded her sobbing daughter in a hug.
They stood together, unspeaking, until Raedwyn’s tears eventually subsided.
Seaxwyn stroked her daughter’s wet, blotchy cheek and smiled tenderly.

“Was it
that bad?”

“Why
didn’t you tell me?” Raedwyn accused.

“I had
hoped you would be one of the lucky ones,” Seaxwyn replied. “For that reason, I
did not worry you.”

“But I
thought you and father were happy?”

“We are,”
Seaxwyn replied firmly, “but that is a rarity amongst the high-born.”

Seeing the
look of anguish on her daughter’s face, Seaxwyn led Raedwyn over to the bed and
they sat down on the edge of it. 

“I was
lucky in Raedwald, for he is a noble and gentle-hearted man,” Seaxwyn
explained, “but you know he was not my first husband.”

Raedwyn
nodded.  She knew her mother had been married before, to Tondbert, an East
Saxon prince. The union lasted only a couple of years, before Tondbert divorced
Seaxwyn. Soon afterwards, she had married Raedwald. She had a son from that
former union, Sigeberht, who Raedwald had never trusted. As soon as Sigeberht
came of age, Raedwald had banished his stepson from his kingdom and now
Sigeberht lived in exile in Gaul. Raedwyn knew little of her mother’s previous
life, or of how having her son in exile affected her. She listened intently as
Seaxwyn recounted her tale.

“I was
barely sixteen when my father married me to Tondbert. Unlike Cynric who is a
decent man, Tondbert was cruel and plagued by dark moods. It took little to
irritate him, and when he discovered he had not married a mouse of a woman, he
decided to beat any fire out of me.”

Seaxwyn
looked out of the window at the lightening sky, her finely sculptured face hard
with the memory. “He beat me regularly, so badly once that I lost my first
baby.  When I was with child the second time he left me alone, until Sigeberht
was born. Then the beatings became more frequent, until one day he had me
cornered and I thought he was going to kill me. I had taken to carrying a knife
hidden under my skirts but had lacked the courage to wield it. It was then,
cornered and worried for my life, that fear left me and I felt as a man must
feel when the lust of battle takes hold. I stabbed him in the leg thrice and
left him howling on the floor. I fled immediately with my son for my father’s
hall, and days later Tondbert divorced me.”

Raedwyn
was agape at her mother’s tale. She had always known her mother was strong but
she had never imagined her capable of such anger, or courage. 

“After
Tondbert, I believed no man would want me – but then, my father discovered the
young King of the East Angles sought a wife. I was miserable, imagining that my
next husband would be as cruel as my last, but I knew the moment I set eyes on
Raedwald that I would love him fiercely. I had hoped it would be the same for
you and Cynric.”

Raedwyn
shook her head and scowled at the thought of her new husband.

“He is a
brute,” Raedwyn spat. “To think that I will have to endure his touch again and
again makes me want to die.”

Seaxwyn
took Raedwyn’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s a woman’s lot,” she said, her tone
brooking no argument, “and you could have fared much worse than Cynric. Listen
to me Raedwyn!”

Raedwyn
felt her mother’s grip on her hand tighten with urgency and she looked into her
mother’s eyes. They were smoky gray and sharp like pieces of flint. “Ours is a
world controlled by the warrior and the sword. We women are like seeds
scattered by the wind. The wind drops us where it will and there we have the
choice to either fight our fate or grow roots and bloom.”

“You
fought Tondbert,” Raedwyn replied, lifting her chin defiantly, “and it brought
you to my father!” 

“I
defended my life from a man who would have murdered me if I had not fought
back,” Seaxwyn replied, “and I know you would do the same, but you must
remember that Cynric, though apparently lacking in the qualities which make him
an ideal husband, is not a bad man. You must bloom where you are planted my
dear daughter or life will wear you down.”

Raedwyn
shook her head stubbornly. “The man is a brute!”

“Raedwyn.”
Seaxwyn gently took hold of her daughter’s chin and forced her to meet her
gaze. “There is more to a marriage than what happens between man and woman in
the marriage bed. You and Cynric are still strangers. Give him some time and
you may be pleasantly surprised.”

Raedwyn
stared back at her mother, disappointed. She could hardly believe that her
mother was telling her to accept the touch of a man who had treated her so
roughly. She had always thought her mother would protect her from life’s sharp
edges, but now saw that she had finally entered adulthood and could no longer
hide behind her mother’s skirts.

Raedwyn’s
world was not as simple as she had always believed, and nor was her place in
it.

***

Raedwyn
left Rendlaesham under leaden skies. A dull gray blanket blocked out the sun
and the air was heavy, full of the promise of rain.

Raedwald’s
eyes glittered with tears when he hugged his daughter tight against him and
sent her on her way.

“I will
miss you dear girl,” he said gruffly. “My hall will appear cheerless without
your laughter.”

Raedwyn
choked back her own tears before hugging her mother and brother. Meanwhile,
Cynric mounted his horse, impatient to leave. Raedwald helped his daughter up
onto the back of her shaggy bay mare before rejoining Queen Seaxwyn and
Eorpwald.

Raedwyn
looked back at her family. Her father was stone-faced, struggling to control
his emotions, while her mother gave Raedwyn a brave smile, her eyes glittering.
Eorpwald watched her solemnly, his quiet countenance giving nothing away. 

Raedwyn
bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from weeping, before
she chastised herself for being so ungrateful. Her father had done his best for
her and she could not bear to disappoint him. However, despite her mother’s
advice, Raedwyn could not imagine welcoming Cynric’s touch. Just the sight of
his self-satisfied face this morning made her want to slap him.

Mounted
alongside Raedwyn, Cynric gave his king a hearty salute before urging his horse
on, down the incline, and away from Raedwald’s Great Hall.

“Raedwyn!”
Eanfled appeared at Raedwyn’s side, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Were
you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

“Dearest
Eanfled!” Raedwyn reached down and clasped her maid’s hand in hers. “Of course
not, I knew you’d be here to see me off!”

The truth
of it was that Raedwyn had avoided seeing Eanfled today. She knew her friend
would have asked her about her wedding night, and Raedwyn would have had to
tell her the truth. Eanfled had been so excited for her that Raedwyn could not
bear to see the pity and worry in her eyes.

“Don’t
forget me Raedwyn!” Eanfled called after her. “Please visit!”

“Of course
I will!” Raedwyn called black, her vision blurring with tears as she waved to
her friend and dug her heels into her horse’s sides. “I will never forget you
Eanfled!”

Moments
later, they were riding out of Rendlaesham. Townsfolk lined the streets to
farewell the newly-weds. Fifteen warriors rode out behind Cynric and Raedwyn;
their escort back to the long ship moored on the banks of the Deben. A few
children straggled behind them for a while before the company of seventeen
found themselves alone, riding through open country dotted with clumps of
woodland. 

The
farther they rode from Rendlaesham, the better Raedwyn started to feel. Bidding
her family farewell had been too raw. Now that she had left them behind, the
pain dulled and Raedwyn felt her mood lift.

Cynric did
not converse with his new wife during the journey. Instead, he rode ahead with
one of his warriors. Raedwyn watched him laugh at something the warrior said
and wondered if he would ever be that at ease with her. He was a man who clearly
preferred male company; perhaps that was why he had married so late in life.

They
retraced their steps from two days earlier, weaving in and out of sheltering
woodland. As the day wore on, the sky darkened and the first fat drops of rain
fell. Raedwyn watched the drops splash onto her hands and peered up at the
ominous sky. Moments later, the heavens opened and rain pelted down on the
travelers.

Soon they
were all soaked through. Rivulets of cold water ran down Raedwyn’s face and
down the back of her neck. Miserable, she hunched low in the saddle under her
fur cloak.

Gradually
the rain lessened to a drizzle and a wet mist settled over the land. The
thickets of trees were gradually becoming sparser and would soon give way
entirely to wide heathland. The closer they got to the sea, the stronger the
wind became, and its icy bite made Raedwyn’s fingers and feet numb with cold.

Raedwyn
was blowing on her chilled fingers in a futile attempt to warm them when the
unmistakable twang of a bowstring cut through the air.

Directly
ahead of her, Raedwyn watched a feathered arrow embed itself in Cynric’s side
with a meaty thud. Cynric grunted and collapsed against his horse’s neck as
another arrow struck his side. 

Cynric the
Bold slid off his horse and collapsed on the sodden ground.

Suddenly
the air was thick with flying arrows and axes. An axe caught the warrior, who
had ridden next to Cynric, in the neck and he toppled off his horse. The
warriors behind Raedwyn charged forward to protect her, drawing their swords as
they did so.

Terrified,
the cold and rain forgotten, Raedwyn crouched down in the saddle. Then, acting
on instinct, she turned her mare sharply back in the direction she had come.
The mare pivoted on her haunches and bolted. Clinging on as the horse flattened
out into a wild gallop, Raedwyn could hear shouts and the sounds of a battle
behind her. The clash of swords rang out through the mist and the thunder of
horses’ hooves gradually grew louder.