Bloodline

by Katy Moran

  Egric. King Seobert.

  And Elfgift.

  Now. He had to do it now.

  The god-house was full: crowded with men and women – most were standing, only a few cripples and girls heavy with child sat on the low ledges at the feet of the walls. All were dressed in black, brown, white – plain colours, with no ornament. Some of the women had covered their heads with linen veils. He had never seen that before – it must be a new fashion. Why was he thinking of women’s clothes at a time like this? Where was Egric? He searched, peering over the heads of the crowd, looking for his lord: the wide, bear-like shoulders, the fair hair. He remembered Egric when he first saw him, riding towards the village like the leader of the Wild Hunt, besmattered with gold. It was hard to believe that was in Sun-cake month, when winter still gripped the earth, and now it was nearly Eostre-month.

  The priest at the altar said something in Latin; the crowd answered. Why do they do that, he thought, when no one understands? People were turning to look at him now.

  More people turned. The god-man fell silent, stared straight at him and said, “Yes, my child? Would you like to join us?” He smiled. “Jesus Christ welcomes all.”

  “Dear God,” someone said. “My eyes are serving me a trick.”

  Essa looked up. It was Egric, coming towards him. The crowd parted to let him by, and Essa sank to his knees. Weakness overtook his body and he rested his forehead on the floor. He felt rough hands on his shoulders, raising him up.

  “Essa, for God’s sake,” said Egric. “What—” He broke off, laughing. “You’ve got a tale to tell me, boy!”

  Essa stared straight into his pale, oyster-shell eyes. “I’m not the only one,” he said.

  Egric helped him up, turning to the god-man, smiling at the crowd, saying, “My most loyal retainer! We’d given him up for dead.”

  A babble of noise broke out, the god-man held up his hand for silence but no one listened. Egric’s grip tightened around his arm and they were outside, blinking in the bright light of the courtyard. Egric’s face changed once they were alone: his mouth a thin angry line.

  “Where have you been?”

  Essa opened his mouth and shut it again, not knowing where to start. He swallowed: it felt as if there was a ball of wool stuck in his throat, he could not get the words out. “Powys,” he said. “But Lark told you that, didn’t she?”

  “The stupid girl should have come and fetched one of us – not just let you go. She should have been whipped. And we’ve all heard the gossip from the west – that you and Penda’s brat left Caer Elfan with Eiludd’s daughter in the middle of the night, without the girl’s chaperone—”

  “It was the morning, not the middle of the night. And they were married by then, she didn’t need a chaperone.”

  “With her brothers and half her father’s men chasing you. A trader heard it, and the news will be all over the country by now, that kind of hot talk. They’ll be singing about it in every hall from Kernow to Dál Riada. Not the kind of thing I like my men to be doing. Where in the name of God have you been since?”

  “Ad Gefrin.”

  For a moment, he thought Egric was going to hit him, but he did not. He was staring over Essa’s shoulder at someone who had just come out of the god-house.

  “You have been where?” said Cai. He was standing in the doorway. Breathless, Essa stood staring at him for a moment, unable to believe what he was seeing. Then he leapt forwards, his face burning with rage. “You liar!” He lunged at Cai and the two of them went slamming into the wall of the god-house. “You lied to me! Where is she?”

  He felt hands on his shoulders, Egric trying to pull him away, but he twisted out of his grip, shoving his father hard against the wall. Cai’s eyes were black and impassive, drawing him in so he could not look away.

  “Hush, cub.” Cai’s voice was calm; he gripped Essa’s wrists and lowered his hands. Essa found he could not move his arms. Cai’s eyes were sucking him in, twin pools of dark light. “Where have you been?”

  “I thought you were dead. Wulf said they’d killed you.” He drew in a deep breath. His legs were weak; all he wanted to do was sit down.

  Cai smiled. “They’ll have to be quicker than that to catch me. I was halfway here by the time they knew I was gone. Tell me, where have you been?”

  “Ad Gefrin. I’ve been to Ad Gefrin. Where is she?” His voice rose to a yell.

  Egric pulled him away from Cai, saying calmly, “Come, do not speak to your father like that. No man of mine acts with such discourtesy.”

  Essa turned and shouted in his face, “Shut your mouth, you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  Egric’s eyes went dark grey, like cold stones at the bottom of a river. “Cai, this brat of yours—”

  “You’ve just been using me like everyone else,” said Essa, heart pounding. Penda wanted him dead, so did Godsrule, now he had added a third royal enemy to his list. He did not care. “You thought I’d be useful, didn’t you? Thought you’d get the house of Ad Gefrin in your bag if you had me. Well, it’s no good, I went up there and Godsrule won’t help. He’s a gutless fool and he’s scared stiff of Penda.”

  Cai and Egric looked at each other. Cai laughed sharply. “You did what?”

  But Essa did not answer because someone was coming out of the garden, walking towards them holding a basket of greens: a tall woman, with red hair hanging bright around her shoulders, falling to her waist like tongues of flame. He saw her face; high, curved cheekbones, arched eyebrows, her long grey eyes, the same shape as his but a different colour. She smiled at Cai and Egric, saying, “I’ve missed vespers, haven’t I? And all for picking greens – what a fool I am!” Then she saw Essa, and a strange stillness spread across her features so that her beautiful, elf-shining face looked like a mask.

  They had both lied to him. What they had done was unforgivable.

  Essa stepped back: if one of them touched him he would not be able to bear it.

  His fingers closed around the handle of his sword. “You stay away from me,” he said to Cai, voice shaking. “And keep her away from me too.”

  “Essa, Essa, we only did it to keep you safe, ” said Cai, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. “Do you think I wanted to live away from your mother? Do you think she wanted to leave you? There was no choice.”

  “Oh, dear God,” said the woman. Her hands started to shake and she dropped the basket. Dark green leaves spilled out over the packed-earth courtyard. Essa felt something inside him snap. He drew the Silver Serpent, the blade sang through the air. Elfgift suddenly stepped towards him; it was as if she hadn’t even seen the sword.

  “My love, no.” Cai pulled her back. “Essa!” He sounded quite calm but Essa had seen that look in his eyes before.

  The sword-handle seemed to burn his hand and he threw her to the ground, just as he’d done in the hall at home all those years before, when he first realized Cai had left him there for good. The Silver Serpent was a beautiful weapon, she had no equal, but she was poisoned.

  “It’s all lies, isn’t it?” he said. “No king gave her to you, she’s her sword, isn’t she? Well, you can have her back, and I hope you both choke.”

  “Aesc!” Egric said. “They’re trying to explain, why do you not try listening? Hild would be disappointed in you.”

  “She’s a lying bitch as well.”

  That was when Egric hit him. He heard Elfgift cry out as he stumbled backwards, falling awkwardly, knocking his elbow so hard that a jagged line of pain ran up his arm.

  He heard his father say, “For the love of Christ, Egric.” Then he felt hands gripping his arms, dragging him to his knees. Both Cai and Egric held him; he could not fight them both. He was too tired now to fight anyone. He looked down and saw dark spots of blood staining the dusty ground. He could feel it running from his nose, into his mouth, dripping off his chin. Another bloody nose, he thought, suddenly feeling removed from it all, as if he were outside his body and watching himself.


  “Take him out of my sight,” Egric said, his voice tight with rage. “Before I have to kill him. I will not have anyone speaking of Hild like that.” He went back into the god-house and Essa was left kneeling, hands cupping the blood that dripped from his nose and mouth.

  So there it was. Egric and Hild were lovers. What was their story, he wondered. A thwarted marriage? Hild sent out to marry the chief of the Wixna, while Egric had to take some other princess, one from another clan?

  Then Cai hauled him to his feet, speaking to him in British, the words harsh and vicious. “You are like a dog that shits and pisses everywhere, you cannot restrain yourself. How can you behave like this before your mother, how can you say such foul things? You’re filth.”

  He hates me because I forced them apart. Suddenly, Essa was ashamed of the misery he’d felt when Wulf told him Cai was dead. Why should I care about him, if he doesn’t care about me? So he spat blood on the ground at Cai’s feet and said, “At least I’m not a liar.”

  “You just don’t know when to stop, do you?”

  Then, at last, Elfgift spoke. “Cai, please. Can you not see how weary he is? And he’s right. We did lie to him. He’s every right to hate us.” Her voice was calm and measured. Essa was surprised, and a little relieved. There was one person amongst all this madness who had kept hold of their senses.

  He still could not look at her, though, could not bear to see his face reflected so clearly in hers. He stared at the dusty greens lying on the ground. He dared not speak: he was afraid of what might come out of his mouth.

  Cai swore. “Egric’s right,” he said. “You need to cool your heels, and so do I. Come.” And Essa followed him across the courtyard, leaving Elfgift standing alone, the Silver Serpent lying in the dust at her feet as she watched them go.

  Bedricsworth

  HE AWOKE in a tangle of blankets, the narrow chamber in darkness. He was starving hungry, his stomach felt hollow, like a dried-out nut. He put a hand up to his face and touched blood encrusted under his nose, down his chin, smeared across his cheek. It hurt, everything ached. Sitting up, he wrapped the blankets around his shoulders and pulled back the shutters. Outside, the sun was westering, setting the apple trees on fire with a golden light, their pale blossoms bobbing and swaying in the breeze. The sounds of Egric’s army settling down for the night drifted across the fields; the crackling of fires, a horse nickering, a low hum of voices. Someone was playing a pipe. He wished he was outside with them, instead of trapped in this lonely god-house. He had never been in a chamber by himself before, let alone locked up in one. Even at Ad Gefrin there had been the hounds, and Fenrir. But here there was no one.

  His throat ached with thirst, but the wooden cup in the corner was empty. Then he remembered the key clicking in the lock as Cai left. Back at home, no one ever asked Ariulf’s father to make a key or a lock. What would have been the use? There was nothing worth locking up, and no chamber to shut people in. Cai was a fool to have locked him up, anyway. He could just as easily get out through the window if he wished. He was about to try, when the key scraped in the lock again. He leant back against the wall. He hated to admit it, but he was not looking forward to facing Cai again, nor Egric. I’m not scared of them, he thought. But he was. He waited for the door to open. It did not. Someone knocked. Not Cai, then – surely not Egric.

  “Come in,” he said.

  It was Elfgift. “Are you sure?” she asked. She stood in the doorway, holding a tray with a tallow candle in a clay dish on it, a cup, and a bowl covered with a cloth.

  He nodded. She came in, a tall, slender shape in the flickering shadows, and sat on the end of the bed, setting her tray down on the floor. As she went to sit down, he noticed she wore the Silver Serpent buckled to her belt. Lit up by the sun slanting in through the window, her hair looked as if it was burning.

  As though she couldn’t keep still, Elfgift leant down and picked up the cup, offering it to him. “Drink this; it will calm you. And you must be thirsty.”

  He took it silently, gulping the spicy warm wine.

  “Your face is all over blood – shall I clean it?”

  Essa shrugged. He still could not quite bring himself to speak to her, could not believe that it was really his mother here in this room with him.

  “Come sit by me, then.” Elfgift lifted the bowl of water, and dipped the cloth. It smelled of lavender, and he thought of Lark, and wished she were here. Elfgift cleaned the blood away, gently dabbing the cloth, her touch light on the sorest parts, her long, freckled fingers cool and quick.

  “I know what you must think of us,” she said. “Especially me. Do you see why we did it?”

  Essa did know why: in his mind’s eye, he saw King Godsrule’s face, lined with almost fifteen years of hatred, and the man he had killed in the beech coppice. He sat there, frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

  “You never would have been safe here, or anywhere near me,” Elfgift said quietly. Her voice held just a trace of the Northumbrian accent. “Godsrule would have hunted me to the ends of the earth to find you. When you were only a baby, he sent a man down here in the guise of a convert and he smothered the kitchen girl’s child, thinking it was you. And that’s why we did what we did, that’s why Cai had to take you away. I’m sorry – it seemed kinder to tell you I was dead. Essa, when it all happened, I was only the same age as you are now.”

  Essa stared down at the floor. It was Godsrule he should be angry with. But he knew he would never forgive Cai; it was Cai who had lied to him, Cai who had left him, Cai who had said those dreadful things outside in the courtyard. You’re filth.

  He heard the familiar hiss of the Silver Serpent being pulled free of her scabbard. Elfgift sat holding her, the sharp, shining point touching the floor, the hilt resting in her lap.

  “Edwin had her forged for me,” she said. “Years ago now. I was meant to marry someone else, and she was part of my dowry. He was a Pictish chief twice my age, who I’d never met – it was all for tribal reasons, you see. I think Edwin guessed I’d leave with you; he knew I’d not let Godsrule hurt tha. And so one day, he called me to him, and gave me the Silver Serpent. He’d taken it from my dowry-box, the dowry I was to take to the Pict, and gave her to me. Keep thaself safe, my dear, he said. Tha and the child. So that’s what I tried to do. Now do you take her back, Essa? So I know you’re safe?”

  “Yes,” Essa said. “I’ll take her.” And he stood up while she buckled the sword-belt around his waist. It was good to feel the familiar weight resting against his hip again. The Silver Serpent was his once more.

  Elfgift folded the bloodied cloth and placed it back on the tray. “Now, it’s time to eat. Would you like to come? You need not.”

  “I’ll come,” Essa said, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.

  He followed Elfgift down the corridor, his legs burning after the long run that morning. She led him through a wide doorway into a hall full of men and women eating at long tables. The rich smell of fish stew and fresh bread made his stomach clench with hunger. A large crucifix hung on the far wall between two brightly woven wall hangings. It was strangely peaceful – there were only a few children, and they were sitting quietly. Huge windows with the shutters flung open let in the last of the evening light, and the walls were lit with torches in iron sconces that cast, long, flickering shadows over the people gathered on the benches. Most of them were eating in silence, others having quiet conversations. Some looked up and smiled when they saw Elfgift walk by with Essa, and he wondered how many of them knew his story.

  “In here.” Elfgift smiled, and pulled back a heavy wool curtain. In the chamber beyond, Cai and Egric sat at a table, deep in talk with two men Essa had not seen before: the younger had the same bear-like frame as Egric, only his hair was darker, his face clever and shrewd.

  But it was the older man who drew Essa’s gaze; he was tall, spare-boned, with large calm eyes. His hair was shaven close to his scalp, just a dark shadow. For a m
oment, Essa could not stop looking at him: the man seemed to give off a deep sense of peace, of power, as if there were a light inside him, glowing.

  Cai glanced up, outwardly calm, but Essa knew he was still angry with him; he could almost feel it crackling in the air. Egric, on the other hand, looked as though he had forgotten the whole thing; he barely even looked away from talking as they came in. Essa knew what he must do and, loathing every moment, walked around to the other side of the table and kneeled before Cai and Egric.

  “I am sorry,” he said, staring down at the floor. There was a greasy mark under the table where someone had dropped a piece of meat. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He had to clench the muscles in his belly to stop it rumbling. Come on, come on, let’s get this finished. Then, at last, Egric clapped him on the shoulder and he sat up, eyes cast down. “It’s all right,” said Egric. “I’m glad you’ve the spirit to beg my pardon. Not many would, after a crack like that.” He turned to his companions, laughing. “Essa had a little falling out with his father and me just now. But let’s say no more about it, shall we?”

  Essa looked up at Cai, who nodded briefly, and then turned back to his talking. Elfgift went over to the table and started pouring wine into cups.

  “Seobert, my lord, this is my son,” she said. “And this is Anno, Egric’s cousin. You’ve been on a long journey to get here, have you not, Essa?”

  The older man got to his feet just as Essa was about to kneel again. His eyes flickered over Essa’s face, taking in the bruises and the raw cut where Egric’s ring had scraped his cheek. He smiled kindly. “There is no need for that,” he said. “All are equal in the eyes of God. Come sit by me – tell me of your journey.”

  So he took his place on the bench between Seobert and Egric, and Elfgift spooned steaming fish stew into their bowls. Egric broke the bread and passed it around. Essa stirred a clump of steamed greens around in his stew, his hunger gone. He was trying not to look at Cai; his heart beat faster whenever he did. Essa felt as if the silence was pressing the air from his lungs. The torches cracked and flickered on the walls.