The Briton and the Dane: Concordia

by Mary Ann Bernal

  “I...we look forward to feasting at your table, my lady,” Father Damian replied. “We shall await Concordia at the altar. Until then.”

  The queen nodded, stepped into the courtyard and headed towards Concordia’s private chambers where she found Lord Stephen’s daughter alone in her quarters, sitting upon her bed and holding her cherished necklace, her gaze unsettling distant.

  “You are not yet dressed,” the queen said softy. “Where is your attendant?”

  “To slip on a dress takes little time,” Concordia replied. “She seeks a crown of flowers...Emidus insisted.”

  “We have one hour...and must make good use of this time...you know I love you as a daughter and I do believe you are in need of a mother this day,” Queen Aethelswitha whispered as she sat beside Concordia and looked upon Thayer’s costly gift. “What troubles you?”

  Concordia’s breaths were erratic as her fingers rubbed the precious gems that rested on her lap. She kept her eyes lowered, fearing the queen would learn the truth, a truth she had yet to admit, a truth that held meaning only to herself. She brushed away her tears, chiding herself for this one weakness, yet she welcomed the queen’s embrace.

  “My child, love is not always returned, and when this is so, one must accept the Lord’s will. You are fortunate to be privileged...and I am sure you are in agreement that you have been coddled these many years. Yes, you are quite comely, but you are also learned, a scholar in your own right, with advantages those less fortunate covet, and you are held dear by a man who would give his very life for your happiness. Would you cast aside someone who is truthful and would treat you well for someone whose culture enslaves women? Would you be willing to live out your years on foreign soil, never to see your kin again? But then, I suspect you believe you are also being pined for, which is highly unlikely.”

  “I beg forgiveness,” Concordia sobbed. “I know I am foolish...but whenever I remember...”

  “Your memories linger because you wear this necklace...you would be better served if you kept it locked away,” Queen Aethelswitha reminded her. “I would have you return it, but I fear Thayer and his mother would take offense, and...”

  “My lady,” Concordia interrupted. “I shall heed your wise counsel and do as you bid.”

  “It is settled then,” the queen smiled kindly as she took the necklace and placed it in a small box beside the bed. “Now, where is your dress?”

  Concordia opened the chest and pulled out a light blue silk dress of Roman design, which she quickly donned just as her attendant entered the room with a circlet of flowers.

  “You have chosen well,” Queen Aethelswitha told the serving maid as she admired a crown made of daisies, primrose and foxglove.

  “My lady,” the serving maid replied as she reached for a comb and sat Concordia upon a bench. “I came upon your betrothed in the courtyard...with your father and brother. They were heading towards the chapel...I do believe Brantson is anxious...imagine, a warrior of such courage being anxious!”

  Concordia smiled slightly as she listened to her serving maid’s idle chatter, placing her hand absently upon her chest, seeking a necklace she no longer wore.

  “I would wear my mother’s Cross,” Concordia said suddenly as she pointed to the keepsake box she kept on her bookshelf.

  Queen Aethelswitha retrieved the cherished memento while the serving maid covered Concordia’s loose tresses with a fine light blue veil, held in place by the flowery circlet. Concordia grasped the Cross while the Queen clasped the necklace.

  “You are beautiful,” the serving maid said approvingly as the chapel bell chimed softly. “It is time.”

  Concordia embraced her attendant, kissing her gently upon the cheek before following the queen out the door. The two women walked silently across the empty courtyard and approached the chapel where King Alfred and Lord Stephen were exchanging pleasantries.

  “Concordia, you remind me of my wife on the day we were wed,” King Alfred told her as he kissed her hand. “I pray your union will be just as fruitful.”

  “My lord,” Concordia bowed. “You are most gracious, and I pray you shall not be disappointed.”

  Lord Stephen embraced his daughter while the king escorted his queen into the small chapel where they assumed their rightful place in the first row.

  “You are truly your mother’s daughter,” Lord Stephen said, his voice choked with emotion. “She smiles upon you this day.”

  “Father, I pray I have been forgiven...I could not bear...”

  “Hush, dear daughter...there is nothing to forgive...I seek your happiness above my own...I am pleased to call Brantson son...he loves you as I love your mother.”

  Tears fell slightly down Concordia’s face as she accepted her father’s outstretched arm and walked through the door where Brantson waited with Emidus at his side. She smiled at the royal children as she walked the short distance to the altar and was pleasantly surprised when she noticed Brother Frederic standing behind Father Damian. Her father kissed her tenderly upon her forehead before joining the king and queen while Brantson stepped next to his future wife. He grasped Concordia’s hand, gently squeezing her fingers as he had done so many times before whenever she needed reassurance. They remained standing before the holy altar as Father Damian celebrated the mass, and received the Body and Blood of Christ before the king and his queen, which surprised not only Emidus but Prince Edward as well.

  Concordia and Brantson repeated their vows before God and their king while Brother Frederic swung the thurible multiple times, releasing the incense that burned within the censer. Emidus retrieved the rings of his ancestors, the precious remembrance of his mother’s love, given to her children on the night she was slain. Concordia trembled when Brantson placed Arista’s ring upon her finger, and cried silently when she gave her husband the ring of the Caesars. Brantson once again squeezed Concordia’s hand, providing comfort while his wife’s thoughts were of her mother. He was grateful that she had chosen to wear her mother’s Cross, which gave him hope.

  Once Father Damian concluded the mass, the king and queen left the chapel, followed by the newly-wed couple who stopped at the door so they might thank their guests for witnessing their union. Emidus embraced his new brother firmly, laughing heartily when they locked forearms, but he became concerned when he glanced upon Concordia’s pale face.

  “All will be well, little one,” Emidus whispered into her ear. “Trust in God, He directs your steps.”

  Concordia nodded as Emidus left the chapel where the warmth from the midday sun lingered while the first hues of twilight darkened the sky. She acknowledged Brantson’s knowledgeable glance as she took her husband’s arm and followed the king and queen to their private quarters to partake in the feasting.

  Three long tables were covered with colored cloth where platters of roasted meats and fish had been placed. The aroma of freshly-baked bread tantalized the senses as the royal guests entered the room and found their places quickly. Delicacies rarely served were quite tempting to the palate as the small group of revelers waited to satisfy their hunger. Minstrels housed in the gallery played their instruments as kitchen workers filled empty bowls with vegetables and fruits while a keg of mead was opened.

  Concordia and Brantson were surprised to find themselves seated at the head of the table in the king and queen’s stead. Husband and wife had declined the gracious offer, but agreed reluctantly once they were so commanded by their king. The mood was festive despite the notable absence of family members, but this affront would be remedied at a later date. Once everyone was seated, Emidus raised a toast to his beloved sister and newly-acquired brother, much to Lord Stephen’s delight. The mead flowed freely as the night wore on as flies buzzed around uneaten food.

  Father Damian and Brother Frederic sat at the end of one of the tables that was closest to the doorway. The religious men had agreed, prior to attending the feasting, that they would depart once they satisfied their hunger so as not to inhibit the m
erriment. As the holy men arose from the table in unison, Brother Frederic found himself facing Concordia who pulled him into the shadows.

  “Have you word from my Uncle Sidonius?”

  “I have a letter,” Brother Frederic replied as he retrieved the parchment from his pouch. “I have also been granted my pilgrimage...I leave for the Holy Land once preparations are made, but I see my protection is no longer needed now that you have acquired a husband.”

  “Nay, I would have you travel with us, at least part of the way...we leave for Rome in two days time, what say you?”

  “If the Bishop is agreeable, then I would be honored, but first you must dance with your husband and make merry...we shall speak on the morrow.”

  “On the morrow then,” Concordia replied as she folded her uncle’s letter and returned to the table where she placed the correspondence into her velvet purse.

  “What is wrong?” Brantson asked his wife while Lord Stephen and Emidus conversed with the king and queen.

  “Brother Frederic was granted his pilgrimage to the Holy Land...I have invited him to travel with us...and he brings word from Uncle Sidonius.”

  “Have you given more thought to returning to Wareham with your father before we set out for Rome?”

  “There is little time for visits,” Concordia whispered. “Unless my husband has changed his mind.”

  “Plans have not changed...have you written your letters?”

  “Yes. Emidus will give them to father once we have departed...if that is to your liking.”

  “Why are you so...”

  However, King Alfred silenced the room before Brantson could ask his question. The cheerful guests eagerly awaited the king’s words while the queen glanced at Concordia knowingly, and the new bride’s face turned crimson.

  “It is time for the nuptial bed, but witnesses are not needed this night,” King Alfred laughed. “My wife and I will also retire, but food and drink are plentiful...and the minstrels will play until first light. Enjoy the merriment.”

  The lively crowd cheered the king as he and his queen left the hall, followed by Concordia and Brantson who held his wife’s hand firmly as they made their way towards Concordia’s private chambers. Concordia was silent, but Brantson noticed her apprehension when he shut and latched the door once they entered the room. A warm fire crackled in the hearth and flower petals had been tossed upon the nuptial bed.

  “Do not fear me,” Brantson told her as she trembled. “Come, you are in need of rest.”

  Concordia’s pale demeanor frightened Brantson as he placed her upon the bed and lay beside her. He put his arm around her and was pleased when she nestled her head against his chest. Words were not needed because Brantson understood his wife’s bewilderment. He wanted her to return his love, and he would wait patiently for that day. Until then, they would enjoy the adventure, and no one would suspect the truth. He spoke soothing words and was grateful when his wife fell asleep in his arms. He had given his word and would never betray her trust. He had her friendship and would earn her love.

  Chapter Nine

  Concordia stirred as the chiming bells heralded the Office of Prime while warming sunbeams filtered through the window amidst a gentle breeze. She opened her eyes slowly, expecting to find her husband still asleep, but she was suddenly wide awake when she realized he had already risen. She jumped out of bed, crying out his name as she ran through the rooms and was disappointed to discover he was nowhere to be found. She hurried to her bedchamber to change into suitable clothing lest her attendant arrived and her secret discovered. She tossed the silken dress carelessly upon the floor and was kneeling before her open chest when she heard a slight knocking at the door.

  “Pray wait!” Concordia shouted as she donned the tunic she wore for comfort and tossed the bedcoverings upon the floor before running to open the door slightly.

  “Pardon, my lady,” Concordia’s attendant said, “but your father would share the morning meal with you, with your husband, of course, if it pleases you.”

  “Tell my father we would be pleased,” Concordia replied as she gently closed the door.

  Concordia placed her ear against the solid wood, listening to the sound of fading footsteps as her attendant left her dwelling. Once there was silence, she cracked open the door and peered into the deserted hallway. She left her chambers and ran towards her brother’s quarters while praying silently that she would not be seen. She did not bother to knock as she burst into Emidus’ rooms and was dismayed to find them empty.

  “Your brother and your husband are with the king,” Emidus’ servant said when he appeared suddenly behind her while handing her a message. “I was sent to apprise you of their whereabouts.”

  “I am most grateful,” Concordia replied as she accepted the parchment and returned to her quarters where she read her husband’s note.

  “Wife...forgive my absence, but it was necessary to meet with the king, and I did not wish to disturb you at such an early hour. I will join you at your father’s table for the morning meal. Preparations are well underway for our departure at first light. You will be permitted one small chest for your clothing; remember it is not wise to travel with costly possessions...Brantson.”

  Concordia folded the parchment and placed it in the velvet pouch that held her Uncle Sidonius’ letter that she hesitated to read because she feared his words. She truly believed he would have agreed with her father and would have counseled caution, and she could not bear to read his chastisement. She would wait until she was at sea to read his letter because the distance would ease her guilt. She vowed to make amends upon her return as she tossed the purse into an empty chest, which she quickly filled with clothing suitable for her journey. She was about to close the lid when she spotted the small box upon the bookshelf. Her demeanor changed suddenly when she held her precious necklace as her thoughts returned to a night long past when she and Thayer had stood atop the Keep beneath the blazing stars. She quickly chided herself for such foolishness, yet she carefully placed the costly gift between layers of clothing before closing the chest firmly. She grabbed her cloak and left her chambers to join her father, but first she would speak with the queen who would still be praying in her private chapel.

  As Concordia stepped into the brilliant sunlight, she noticed that preparations were indeed underway for not only her journey, but for her father’s as well since he planned to return to Wareham on the morrow, but after the midday meal. Her thoughts turned to Elizabeth, but only for a brief moment lest her excitement was marred by remorse. Yet, she was ashamed when she entered the chapel and glanced upon her Savior’s downcast eyes as He hung upon the Cross. She might be able to lie to herself but she could not lie to God. She crossed herself quickly while deciding to await the queen in the courtyard, but Queen Aethelswitha had heard her soft footsteps and beckoned that she join her. Concordia smiled meekly as she approached the queen who led her to a bench nestled in a shadowy corner. She kept her eyes downcast while rubbing her sweaty palms as she suddenly regretted her decision to meet with the queen in God’s holy dwelling.

  “Why are you so troubled?” The queen asked compassionately. “Were there...difficulties in the nuptial bed?”

  “No, my lady, my husband is a kind and gentle man. I am most fortunate.”

  “Do not fear confiding in me. I will not judge you.”

  “I have committed a grave injustice,” Concordia whispered tearfully. “I should have heeded your counsel...and my father will suffer because of my actions.”

  “Remorse is a difficult taskmaster,” Queen Aethelswitha said compassionately. “Yet there is forgiveness, and I would make your peace with your father concerning Elizabeth. You must not deny her a mother’s love...she loves you as a true daughter...and do not forget she also mourns your mother and shares in your father’s pain.”

  “Would you be willing to travel to Wareham to intercede for me once we return? I fear Elizabeth might be unforgiving.”

  “I will not
deny that your actions have pained your father, and Elizabeth will also be distressed once she learns that you have wed, but she would never renounce you.”

  “Your words are comforting,” Concordia sobbed.

  “You are penitent because you must face your father, and many months will pass before you are able to return to set things right...which I find commendable...you are becoming a wise woman.”

  “My lady, you will be sorely missed,” Concordia murmured as she wiped away her tears.

  “I am also delighted that you no longer wear the necklace.”

  Concordia nodded, but her face turned a bright red when Thayer’s beautiful gift was mentioned. She could tell the queen a falsehood but she could not lie to the Lord, and she chastised herself for not being able to relinquish the dream of a besotted young woman.

  “I would bid you Godspeed now before the day overtakes both of us,” Queen Aethelswitha said, “and I believe your father awaits you.”

  “I shall write frequently,” Concordia said as she arose, bowing to her queen before leaving the chapel.

  Lord Stephen’s willful daughter paid no heed to her surroundings as she ran through the bustling courtyard and headed towards her father’s assigned quarters. She was out of breath by the time she reached the guest dining hall where her father waited. Concordia hesitated as she stood in the doorway because she had not expected to see Prince Edward seated between her father and brother. She was unsettled as she searched for Brantson who had yet to arrive. What would she tell her father when he asked of her husband’s whereabouts?

  “Your father waits,” Brantson whispered in her ear as he took her arm and led her into the festive room.

  Concordia nodded to Prince Edward and kissed her father upon the cheek, sitting beside him while Brantson spoke softly to her brother before joining her at the food-laden table. She satisfied her hunger in silence while her father recounted the days of his youth, when he had accompanied Prince Alfred to Rome, and time spent at the Papal court.