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The Briton and the Dane: Concordia

Page 7

by Mary Ann Bernal


  “It would seem the court school is lacking a scholar,” Prince Edward laughed. “Do the gossipmongers speak true? Does Brother Frederic accompany you to Rome?”

  “His pilgrimage to the Holy Land was granted,” Concordia replied. “I...we are most fortunate to have such a learned man on so long a journey...sharing his knowledge will help pass the time.”

  “Are you saying you find my company lacking?” Brantson teased.

  “Of course not,” Concordia blushed. “I meant no offense.”

  “Your husband is being playful, that is all,” Lord Stephen interjected.

  “But I fear my sister feels she must justify her decision,” Emidus chimed in.

  “Emidus!” Concordia said haughtily as she glared at her brother. “You are most wicked!”

  “Have you admitted the truth to yourself yet?” Emidus asked her knowingly.

  “Enough,” Lord Stephen told his children. “We have little time to say what is in our hearts. I regret not having visited before this time and beg your forgiveness, but I would have you know that I have every letter you both have written, and the words are etched to memory.”

  “Father,” Concordia murmured.

  “You both know how difficult it is for me to speak from the heart,” Lord Stephen said as he placed his finger over Concordia’s lips to keep her from interrupting, “but I would be tormented should you go to your grave without hearing these words. You both must know how much you are loved and the pride I feel each time I learn of your accomplishments; but I have never told you how I felt, which is why you must hear these words now while I have the breath to voice the emotions that fill my heart. On the night our valley was attacked, your mother entrusted your Uncle Sidonius to see to your safety...she remained on the riverbank until the boat disappeared in the darkness before returning to fight at my side. She died protecting me, but she spoke of the love she bore her husband and her children with her last breath. I never gave up hope while you were missing and humbly thanked the Lord for His mercy when we were finally reunited. Yet never once over the years did I ever speak the words you deserved to hear, and I am grateful for this chance to tell you, dear daughter and son, that you are much loved.”

  Concordia glanced upon her father through misty eyes and embraced him lovingly. The room was eerily quiet as Emidus reflected upon his father’s most welcomed words while Prince Edward and Brantson sought to discreetly take their leave.

  “Stay,” Lord Stephen smiled. “You are both as a son to me, and I would have you know that you are also much loved.”

  “I am honored, my lord,” Prince Edward replied as he arose, “but there are pressing matters that await me.”

  “I must see that all is ready for our departure,” Brantson interjected, “but I shall seek your counsel once everything is arranged.”

  Concordia waited until Prince Edward and Brantson left the room before she confessed the truth to her father and her brother, revealing a secret shared between husband and wife. She blushed at Emidus’ knowing look, because he had discerned the truth. She promised she would honor her vows and be a dutiful and loving wife.

  “Do not worry, father, all will be well,” Concordia said, kissing her father upon the side of his face.

  “I pray that is so,” Lord Stephen whispered. “I cannot lose you again.”

  Chapter Ten

  The journey to the port of Sandwich was uneventful, a fact that Concordia did not hesitate to mention as she wrote her father hastily while waiting to board the ship. However, her message was brief since she was too excited to remain in her room once the servants had taken her personal belongings to the dock. She sealed the parchment with wax, mumbling under her breath when the warm compound spilled upon her fingers while paying no heed to the bemused warrior who appeared suddenly in the open doorway.

  “My lady, is that the letter you would have me deliver to Wareham?” The young man asked politely.

  Concordia nodded as she crossed the length of the room, smiling warmly while handing the young soldier the letter. She thanked him for his kindness and closed the door gently after he left. As she walked towards the open window, her hand absently sought her precious necklace that she wore beneath her tunic. She watched the seafarers loading the many chests while searching for her husband. She caught sight of Brantson speaking with his first officer while the men her husband commanded rested upon the grassy terrain. Concordia appreciated the king’s sensitivity when he had assigned Bryce to accompany them on their journey. Bryce’s presence, along with Brother Frederic, would be a welcome respite from the long days of sunshine and unending waves while sailing the open seas.

  Concordia grabbed her cloak that had been tossed carelessly upon the bed, fastening it about her neck as she left the room. She avoided the busy streets, choosing to follow the pebble-strewn path that led to the water’s edge and was pleasantly surprised when Brother Frederic came upon her suddenly. With sparkling eyes, she grasped his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly while speaking animatedly about their upcoming adventure. Her lively countenance amused her longtime tutor as he followed towards the moored boat that would set sail once the passengers were aboard.

  Brantson shook his head when he noticed Concordia pulling the huffing cleric towards the pier. He ordered Bryce to board the vessel with his warriors while he awaited his wife. He would have fallen when she embraced him vigorously had it not been for Brother Frederic. The Benedictine monk exchanged pleasantries, then headed towards the ship while Concordia mumbled apologies for her reckless behavior. However, Brantson laughed when he gazed upon his spirited wife, kissing her forehead before helping her onto the deck.

  As the ropes were released, the Captain gave orders to raise the sail once the vessel reached open waters. Concordia’s loose tresses billowed in the wind as she stood at the rail, waving to the children until they were lost to her view. She held her hand over her eyes as she watched the receding landscape while thoughts of ancient cities and mighty empires consumed her entire being.

  “I have asked Brother Frederic to say a prayer for our safe deliverance,” Brantson whispered in Concordia’s ear. “Pray with us.”

  Concordia embraced her husband spontaneously, putting her arm through his as she waited for the blessing along with the Saxon warriors and Frisian seafarers.

  Brother Frederic chose to stand before the steering oar so he might be readily seen by the Lord’s faithful. He crossed himself and held out his hands in supplication as he said loudly,

  “Almighty and merciful God, protect us on this journey. Guide us, dear Lord, and keep us safe from danger and the evils of this world. Preserve not only us but the loved ones we leave behind until we are, once again, safely home. We ask this through Christ Jesus, our Lord and Savior.”

  Brother Frederic made the sign of the Cross above their heads as he concluded his prayer. He thanked the Captain and headed towards the benches that had been provided for the passengers, joining Bryce and his seasoned warriors while Concordia and Brantson remained at the rail.

  Concordia wrapped her cloak around her tightly as chilled waves crashed against the vessel while a fine mist sprayed her face that left a salty taste upon her lips. She glanced at the full-blown sail as the ship glided effortlessly through windswept waters, which pleased the oarsmen, conserving their strength.

  “Brantson, there are no words that reflect my heartfelt thoughts. I do not know where to begin,” Concordia said through misty eyes.

  “Are you saying you would truly become my wife?” Brantson asked hopefully.

  When she nodded, Brantson pulled her against him firmly, but the beads of the hidden necklace pressed against them both. She saw his pain when he freed himself quickly from their embrace, pounding his fist against the damp rail as he sought to master his rising anger.

  “I do not know why I brought it with me, but it is too costly a gift to leave below deck, which is why I wear it. It no longer has meaning,” Concordia pleaded.

  “Th
en toss it into the sea.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Your heart will never be free until you cast aside the necklace...another man would not be as patient, yet you test me.”

  Tears flowed rapidly down Concordia’s flushed face as she gazed upon the distant horizon. She knew in her heart that Brantson was right, yet she did not know why she clung to a memory that should have faded with time.

  “I have always loved you,” Concordia told her husband as she tenderly kissed his bruised hand. “No man would have waited for me as you have...you arranged this voyage to please me, because of your love, and somehow I feel that I have betrayed you, but I have not. What if I sell the necklace once we arrive in Rome...and give the money to the poor? Would you forgive me then?”

  Concordia held her breath as she awaited Brantson’s reply.

  “I can deny you nothing,” Brantson whispered, “but if you deceive me...”

  “I have always been truthful,” Concordia interrupted, “and I promise to be a good wife...you have my word.”

  “I pray that is so,” Brantson replied as a large wave washed over the rail.

  Husband and wife laughed at their bedraggled appearance and their clinging wet clothing.

  “I love when you laugh,” Concordia teased.

  “As I you, my love.”

  Concordia rested her head against Brantson’s shoulder, placing her arm beneath his. She was content and grateful for her husband’s love; besides, the necklace no longer mattered. Or did it?

  Concordia could not fall asleep. The swaying motion of the vessel beneath the starless sky made her nauseous as she quietly left her sleeping husband and walked the length of the ship, taking care not to disturb the resting seafarers when she acknowledged the seaman at the steering oar. She leaned over the rail, glancing at the glistening white foam of the rippling waves that crashed gently against the vessel as the faintest hues of first light appeared over the horizon. She had grown weary of the endless days at sea with the sun’s intense heat, chilly nights and unpredictable waves. She had been captivated by Hispania’s distant coastline as the Captain sailed through the Strait of Gibraltar and into the Mediterranean Sea, becoming overly excited when she noticed the vibrant blue waters and knowing that the interminably tedious voyage would soon end.

  Concordia could not complain since she had insisted they travel by sea to save time, but she had her doubts about returning home in the same manner. She absentmindedly felt her precious necklace as she watched the reddening sky, lost to her own thoughts, of days long past and of days yet to come. She shivered slightly when a sudden sea breeze whipped her body. She folded her arms across her chest while repetitively tapping her foot and chiding herself for not taking her cloak. Her chattering teeth seemed to echo in the stillness as she looked over the rail where she noticed small boats grappling the ship. Her terrified screams awakened everyone, but her warning came too late as the pirates were already jumping over the rail.

  The Saxon and Frisian warriors grabbed their swords, fighting ferociously to defend the ship while Brantson searched for his wife.

  “Concordia!” Brantson screamed as he embedded his sword into his enemy’s chest.

  Brantson removed his blade quickly, and deflected a blow while Brother Frederic picked up the dead man’s weapon and attacked a pirate just as he jumped over the rail. Neither Brantson nor Brother Frederic saw Concordia fighting a Saracen with her bare hands. She pounded on her assailant’s chest with her fists, but he laughed as he grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him.

  “I claim you,” the Saracen said menacingly while pushing her to the ground.

  Concordia struggled to free herself from her captive, but she could not move beneath his overbearing weight. She bit his face when he tore her tunic, and was surprised when he abruptly stopped his attack. Concordia held her breath when the Saracen glared at the necklace that failed to cover her exposed breasts.

  “Where did you get this?

  “A gift from my husband,” Concordia lied.

  The Saracen cursed loudly as he lifted Concordia up and threw her over his shoulder. He only laughed when she pounded him with her fists as he carried her towards the rail and the waiting boats.

  Brantson was fighting two pirates when he saw his wife being carried away. He sliced his way through a wall of advancing men, screaming Concordia’s name as he hurried to save his wife. Brother Frederic had also seen Concordia upon the shoulder of the enemy and was also rushing to her aid, but he was overwhelmed by the number of attackers that continued to board the vessel.

  Concordia saw Brother Frederic being thrown into the sea while Brantson hurried towards her. She saw her husband’s bloodied sword and prayed that it was the enemy’s blood that covered his body. Brantson was close when he was set upon by another band of pirates that jumped over the rail. Concordia watched in horror as her husband was overpowered. She cried out Brantson’s name when he lost his sword while her captor reached the rail. Tears flowed rapidly when she saw the fearsome Saracen about to deliver the death blow just as she was thrown into the waiting boat.

  “Let me be!” Concordia shouted as she fought her assailant, but her efforts were futile.

  “She is already claimed,” the Saracen shouted. “Return to the camp...we will not be long.”

  “Brantson,” Concordia sobbed while her captor bound her hands and shoved her onto the lone seat.

  As the pirate rowed to shore, Concordia watched in horror as the Frisian vessel was set ablaze. She heard the screams of the gallant warriors dying from their wounds and gagged at the smell of burning flesh before she fainted.

  Only the mortally wounded remained aboard the burning ship as the Saracens returned to the waiting boats with the men whose injuries would heal. The men had fought bravely and would fetch a hefty price at the slave market.

  “Make haste lest we are overtaken by the Caliph’s soldiers,” one of the pirates shouted as the men rowed their boats towards shore.

  “It is still early,” another pirate interjected. “Besides, your fears are unfounded! Was not Allah with us this day?”

  “Once we are safely back in camp, we will praise Allah,” the leader said. “Until then, pull hard on the oars!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Concordia opened her eyes slowly, taking care not to alert her captors that she was awake. She was surprised to discover that her hands were not bound beneath the musty cloth that covered her body as she found herself staring at the ceiling of a well-lit cavern, but in which kingdom? She remained still, listening to the muffled sounds of idle chatter while women ministered to the injured prisoners and the leader of the brigands conferred with his men. Her vision was limited since she did not want to turn her head just yet. Her belly ached from hunger as the aroma of bubbling stew filtered through the air, and she was desperately thirsty. Her body stiffened each time one of her fellow countrymen screamed when his wound was stitched or cauterized, reminding her how much she hated the smell of burning flesh.

  Concordia could not allow herself to mourn for Brantson lest her judgment became clouded. Her mind must be sharp, devoid of emotion, if she was ever to escape and return home. Her eyes were moist when she thought of the world she had left behind, remembering her father’s reluctance to sanction her journey because he feared for her safety, but chiding oneself for a deed that could not be undone was foolish. She would do what she must to survive while awaiting rescue because Emidus would find her, of that she was certain. However, she realized her brother might search for years before discovering her whereabouts, and she would never give up hope no matter the passage of time.

  Soft footsteps approached the receded crevice where Concordia feigned sleep. A woman knelt beside her still body, removing the cloth to inspect the necklace. Concordia did not move when the woman’s chilled hand touched her naked chest as she fingered the gemstones. Concordia kept her eyes closed when the woman attempted to unfasten the clasp, but a gasp escaped her lips when the pira
te leader pulled the woman away, slapping her hard as she fell to the ground. The woman cowered, holding her hands defensively to deflect the blows.

  “Forgive me,” the woman sobbed while Chad beat her unmercifully.

  The Saracen pirates paid no heed to the punishment, knowing well the penalty for questioning their leader’s brand of justice. The women kept their eyes lowered while applying poultices and wrapping injured limbs, but their shaking hands and trembling bodies depicted their fear.

  “Enough!”Concordia screamed as she quickly arose and grabbed the pirate leader’s arm.

  Chad was amused by his captive’s temerity, laughing menacingly at the half-naked woman who stood defiantly before him. He held Concordia’s arm in a viselike grip, leading her further into the cave and stopped once they were alone.

  “How do you know my language?” Chad asked while releasing his firm hold.

  “My husband taught me,” Concordia lied.

  The formidable pirate leader held Concordia’s chin in his hands, tilting her head and looking directly into her eyes. Concordia did not flinch, returning his stare, her eyes depicting her hatred.

  “I admire your spirit,” Chad whispered into her ear before releasing her.

  “I do not admire you,” Concordia retorted, spitting in his face.

  Chad raised his hand to hit her, but Concordia grabbed his wrist, pulling herself closer while speaking between clenched teeth.

  “I will see you flayed alive if you or any of your men touch me!”

  Chad was seething, but he stepped back when Concordia released him. He removed his shirt, revealing the body of a trained warrior.

  “Cover yourself,” Chad said angrily while tossing the garment at her.

  Concordia did as she was told and quickly donned the most welcome clothing, ensuring that the necklace was readily seen.

  “Name your husband.”

  “You already know his name.”

  “Do not play games,” Chad said. “The right of conquest is mine!.”

 

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