“My lord,” Bryce said softly as he approached his commander.
Brantson smiled at his first officer, beckoning him to sit while sheathing his sword. He handed the younger man a wineskin filled with water and waited as Bryce greedily drank his fill.
“The breeze does little to dispel this insufferable heat!” Bryce grinned as he wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “Rain would be most welcome.”
“Not until we win the battle!”
“That is what I meant,” Bryce chuckled, “but all is quiet still. It is possible the children were mistaken.”
“I pray that is so, but the night is young...and the abbey is known for its riches, but that is not why you seek me.”
“You speak the truth, as always. We have received word from the king,” Bryce replied as he handed Brantson a sealed parchment. “The messenger is being fed as we speak.”
Brantson broke the king’s seal and was surprised when he noticed that a second letter had been enclosed with the king’s communication. He recognized Concordia’s handwriting but controlled his desire to read her words before reading his king’s orders.
“We are to return to court once we finish here,” Brantson said, somewhat bemused. “I wonder what mischief is planned.”
“Concordia must be behind this,” Bryce laughed while pointing to the second letter that Brantson shoved inside his boot, “and why have you not yet told her how you truly feel?”
“If there is no battle, we will set out at first light, otherwise we will leave once the men are rested. Have the messenger await us at the abbey, but have him inform the healer we would have our wounded return with us, if they are fit to travel,” Brantson barked at his first officer.
“I meant no disrespect and apologize for my impertinence,” Bryce told his commander and friend as he arose.
“I must beg forgiveness, my tone was overly harsh,” Brantson whispered as he stood up and grasped Bryce’s forearm.
“There is nothing to forgive, the day has been long and it is not yet finished...we are all in need of rest.”
Brantson nodded as Bryce returned to the camp, waiting until he was once again alone before retrieving Concordia’s letter. He leaned against the smooth bark of an oak tree and gently broke the wax seal. He read over the words quickly, holding his breath with each sentence, before he slowly read again Concordia’s innocent words...
“Brantson, I trust you are well. It is unfortunate that I have not had the pleasure of your company since I have been housed at the king’s court, but this will soon be remedied. I am in need of your wise counsel, and beg your support, as you have done so many times when I was but a child. I await you anxiously, my dearest friend. Concordia.”
“Concordia, what are you up to now?” Brantson mumbled beneath his breath while shaking his head.
Brantson folded Concordia’s letter, placed it inside King Alfred’s message, and thrust the communication into his pouch. He grasped his belted dagger, his fingers clenching and unclenching the hilt while he tried to interpret Concordia’s cryptic message. He was troubled because she called him her dearest friend. She held his heart, but he feared he had waited too long to confess his true feelings, and that she was already smitten with someone she had met at court. He vowed to seek her hand in marriage, but then could he chance losing her friendship if she feared his love?
Brantson was grateful to return to the task at hand when one of his men hurriedly ran towards him.
“There is movement amongst the trees,” the warrior whispered as he pointed towards the dense brushwood.
Brantson nodded while silently giving the order to pursue the enemy. His men crept stealthily through the forest, keeping their distance while trying to determine the size of the enemy forces.
“Have the archers await the enemy at the abbey. They will have to cross open ground before they reach the walls,” Brantson said quietly to the young warrior.
Brantson searched for Bryce as he walked silently through the woods with his sword drawn, but he had difficulty identifying any of his warriors in the darkened shadows.
“My lord,” a whispered voice said from behind. “There are ten men, maybe eleven.”
“They are outnumbered then, but I would rather fight in the clearing than amongst the trees...but if we silence them, one at a time, from the rear, we hold the advantage and will keep our losses to a minimum. Find Officer Bryce and tell him I will join our scouts watching the beach. I would capture their ship.”
“As you command,” the warrior replied as he disappeared within the trees.
While the archers stood at the ready, waiting for the order to release a deadly barrage of arrows, the Saxon foot soldiers quickly came upon the unsuspecting Norsemen with drawn daggers. Bryce nodded when one of the foot soldiers put his hand over the surprised heathen’s mouth, deftly slit his throat and quietly placed the dead body upon the ground. Another heathen was taken by surprise and yet another, which left six invaders to be felled by the archer’s arrow.
Brantson could smell victory as he joined his scouts who had already captured the anchored dragonship. He noticed two Norsemen bound together, sitting near the water’s edge, but he had not expected to find enslaved women and children crammed in the dark hull when he boarded the vessel. He shouted to his men as he started to pull the captives onto the deck. His warriors reassured the frightened children while the women kept praising God for their deliverance.
“Our village is near Chichester,” one of the women tearfully said. “We do not know the fate of our men.”
“We will rest in the abbey this night,” Brantson replied, “but do not worry, my warriors will see to your safe return.”
Brantson turned his attention to the Norsemen who glared at their captor as he approached. Both men spat at Brantson’s feet when he stood before them, and remained silent when questioned.
“My lord!” Bryce shouted as he ran down the sloping shoreline and headed towards the water’s edge, but he stopped abruptly when he came upon the women and children.
“They were taken near Chichester,” one of the scouts said. “We are bringing them to the abbey.”
“Praise God they were not harmed,” Bryce whispered as the women and children followed their saviors towards the forest path that led to the abbey while Brantson joined him.
“Select ten men who have seafarer training. We will sail this ship to Wareham, and from there we will escort these men to Winchester. Perhaps they might be persuaded to speak to the king,” Brantson began. “I leave you the command...see that the dead are properly buried...any wounded who are not fit to travel are to remain at the abbey until the healer releases them from his care...return the women and children to their village, but if the village is destroyed, bring them to the fortification and seek Lord David’s counsel. Once all is settled, meet me at the king’s court.”
“As you command,” Bryce saluted, but before he took his leave he whispered mischievously. “Good luck pursuing Concordia.”
Brantson’s face turned bright red as his first officer quickly left the beach, but he did not mind the words because Bryce was a trusted friend, a friend who had suspected the depth of his feelings for Concordia before he had admitted the truth to himself.
Chapter Two
Concordia was in her chambers writing a letter to her father. She stared at the blank parchment, composing her thoughts while dipping the quill into the inkpot, mumbling under her breath, her rambling words making no sense because she could not curtail her excitement. She sighed deeply, threw the quill down as she rose from the table. She paced the length of the room, mumbling to herself as she spoke the words she needed to write, and paid no heed to the gentle knocking on the door.
“May I enter?” Emidus asked through the wood.
Concordia quickly opened the door and embraced her twin. He noticed her agitated state and could only wonder what she was plotting as he entered the room.
“The queen would have us at he
r table for the evening meal,” her brother told her while helping himself to a cup of wine.
“Must we?”
“Of course we must,” Emidus grinned as he fingered the parchment.
Concordia grabbed the vellum, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the blazing fire. She felt the heat rising into her cheeks as her face turned bright red when she noticed Emidus’ knowledgeable eyes glaring at her, challenging her intent and daring her to speak the truth.
“Father will never agree,” Emidus told her knowingly.
“You do not know that!” Concordia huffed while knowing in her heart that her brother was probably right, yet again!
“Of course, if the queen championed your cause and convinced the king...”
“Then father would have to give his consent,” Concordia interrupted. “Father would never dare defy his king.”
Concordia was glowing when she suddenly grasped her brother’s hands and spun him around her chambers while humming a festive tune, her steps lively and precise as she followed Emidus’ lead. They circled the room too many times to count and were out of breath when the church bells chimed.
“Vespers!” Concordia whispered. “Would our presence be missed?”
“I dare say highly doubtful with Emperor Leo’s emissary at court...their presence is the reason you plot, am I right?”
“I do not plot!” Concordia laughed while feigning offense. “But how did you...”
“Know that you would travel to Constantinople...that you want to visit the remnants of Rome’s Eastern Empire...that you want to see for yourself the world outside these walls!”
“Oh Emidus, you know me so well. You are right; I wish to visit the Eastern Empire...there are so many cities to explore, not only Constantinople but Athens and Alexandria...and Rome, the seat of the Western Empire, and what of Aachen? Charlemagne’s palace still stands, does it not?”
“Your journey would take years, which is why I do not believe father would sanction such a request.”
“But we have been at court these past two summers and father has yet to visit!”
“That might be true, but you are still on Britannia’s soil, protected and safe!” Emidus reminded her. “And you have yet to reveal your true purpose and name the country that you would choose above all others, a country shrouded in mystery, a land that does not follow the teachings of Christ Jesus.”
Concordia turned away from her brother and walked towards the open window. She watched the beautiful dark blue hues of the evening sky turning day into night while glittering stars dominated the heavens. She took deep breaths, needing to master her emotions, and needing to forget the exotic Moor who had captured her heart while chiding herself for her foolishness since Thayer had never encouraged her love.
Concordia was silent when Emidus joined her, yet she did not shy away from his protective embrace. She rested her head against her beloved brother's shoulder as she found the courage to speak.
“Was I so transparent?”
“Oh dear sister, when Thayer was presented at court I knew you were smitten once your eyes found his, but I kept your secret. I did not meddle because I knew you would not listen. I also feared you might do something foolish if you were denied his company. I could not have you return with him to his lands, the danger is too great.”
“I am not very wise, and I tend to rule with my heart, but while I would welcome a chance to see him one last time, I would not place myself in danger to do so,” Concordia whispered. “Might I persuade you to accompany me...father would find it difficult to deny us both!”
“And why would I be tempted to join you?”
“Do not tease me brother! I would welcome your company.”
“I believe the Athenian students are returning to their homeland in three months time...we could book passage on their ship.”
Concordia screeched with delight as she held her brother in a forceful embrace. Emidus grinned while freeing himself from her suffocating hold and kissing the top of her head.
“Come, we must join the queen for the evening meal,” Emidus reminded her as he walked towards the door, “but tomorrow we must come up with a plan...and I admit I am looking forward to the adventure!”
Queen Aethelswitha was conversing with her son, Prince Edward, when Concordia and Emidus entered the festive Great Hall. Minstrels walked amongst the honored guests, playing their harps while storytellers recited epic tales of heroic adventures from days lost past. The smell of freshly-baked bread tantalized the senses, the aroma carried through the air by a gentle breeze filtering through the open windows. Serving women placed platters filled with a variety of roasted meats and fish upon the many linen-covered tables while serving men kept goblets filled to the brim with imported French wine.
Concordia and Emidus chose to sit with the men who had accompanied Emperor Leo’s emissary to Britannia’s shores. Concordia was charming and quite a delight to the foreign visitors who quickly became enamored with such a lovely creature who was genuinely interested in learning about their homeland. The men vied for her attention, answering her innocent questions at the same time, much to Emidus’ amusement.
“We will be quite knowledgeable about the Eastern Empire before the evening ends,” Emidus thought as he quietly ate his fill.
While Concordia enthralled the queen’s invited guests, King Alfred entered the hall, but the unpretentious king insisted that his subjects remain seated as he joined his wife at the high table. The room became quiet when the king lifted his goblet in the air, toasting his esteemed guests while speaking.
“I am pleased that your emperor has such interest in my humble kingdom...I invite you to walk the streets of this fair city during your stay...our schools are renowned throughout all of Christendom as are our abbeys...you will be most welcome by all my subjects.”
King Alfred nodded before emptying his cup in one swallow to the cheers of his guests.
“You are beautiful my queen,” King Alfred whispered as he sat next to his wife and motioned for the feasting to begin.
Acrobats and tumblers appeared out of nowhere to everyone’s delight. The minstrels’ lively music accompanied the amazing feats of the talented performers, but it was the fire-eating jesters that mesmerized the crowd. Concordia jumped in her seat when one of the jesters breathed a fireball in her direction, which frightened her acquaintances while fire jugglers walked the length of the tables, impressing the people with their specialized skill. There were shouts and applauds when the performers bowed in front of their king before taking their leave.
King Alfred rose from the table, but he did not speak until the trumpeter quieted the crowd.
“My wife and I would retire, but please enjoy the festivities...there is much food and drink yet...and dancing...the minstrels will entertain until first light should there be a need!”
Emidus nodded to his king and queen as they left the Great Hall, but he was surprised when Prince Edward sought his company.
“I would have words,” Prince Edward told him as he headed towards the door.
Emidus was intrigued by the unexpected command, but he needed to find someone he could trust to escort Concordia to her chambers and was relieved when he noticed that one of the king’s personal guards had yet to leave the hall. The soldier was more than willing to accommodate Emidus’ request and was quick to join Concordia at the table. Once Emidus was satisfied that his sister was protected, he stepped into the darkened courtyard where Prince Edward waited patiently.
“My lord,” Emidus bowed, “how may I serve you?”
“Do not be so formal, are we not friends?”
Emidus nodded.
“I have need of a personal advisor...someone who will not flower their words but will speak the truth, no matter how unpleasant...someone whose loyalty is above reproach...that someone I seek is you. Would you be willing to accept this coveted position?”
“My lord, there are no words,” Emidus stammered. “I am most honored to
be considered.”
“You accept?”
“How could I not? I am truly grateful for this privilege and will serve you well.”
“It is settled then...be at my table for the morning meal...we have much to discuss.”
Chapter Three
The court school was a bustle of activity as teachers prepared the day’s lesson. The three-story building contained classrooms on the first two floors, but the prized library occupied the entire third level where learned scribes copied selected passages from literary works for use during class. Students who sought to master a difficult subject would be tutored privately before lessons began while the remaining aspiring scholars shared the morning meal in the nearby kitchens.
Concordia’s mind was elsewhere as she helped herself to a bowl of porridge before sitting at the end of the long table. She smiled at the young men when they acknowledged her presence, but her thoughts were chaotic as she satisfied her hunger. She stared through the open window as translucent sunbeams caressed the dew-soaked grass, and she was genuinely startled when Brother Frederic joined her. She paid no heed to the curious stares of her fellow students while she quietly conversed with her favorite teacher.
“We need privacy,” Brother Frederic whispered, annoyed by the men’s probing glances. “Come with me.”
Concordia felt the color rising as her face turned crimson when she and Brother Frederic suddenly arose from the table and left the room. She could hear the whispers when she stepped into the dusty courtyard, but she stifled her laughter, knowing that this unprecedented event only added to her mystique. Since she was the only young woman attending the court school at this time, she maintained a brotherly-type friendship with the young men, taking care not to encourage their unsolicited advances.
“I fear I have aroused their curiosity, but I had little choice,” Brother Frederic apologized.
“Do not worry, they will soon forget our meeting...but I am pleased you sought me before setting out for Exeter...and if I may be so bold...I seek a favor...if you are willing.”
The Briton and the Dane: Concordia Page 2
