The Briton and the Dane: Concordia

by Mary Ann Bernal

  “I am at fault,” Yara said contritely. “I should never have left her.”

  They searched the hidden crevices, becoming overly anxious once they reached the mouth of the cave that overlooked the beaches of Marbella. The moon shined brightly, casting its golden glow over the calm sea, the crystalline sand sparkling in the moonbeams.

  Yara fell to her knees on the deserted beach, overcome with grief, fearing Concordia’s fate. Jafri knelt beside her, reminding her she was not to blame while Chad glanced atop the cliffs, looking for movement along the coastal road. They heard faint voices from above, presumably travelers returning home, and each of them became hopeful.

  “She probably found the path and is somewhere in the village,” Jafri interjected. “Someone would have seen her and given her shelter for the night. We should rest at your dwelling and search once the sun rises.”

  “Jafri is right,” Yara told Chad. “There is no danger here. I wager she sleeps in a warm bed this night.”

  “I pray you are right,” Chad replied while heading towards the rock-strewn trail.

  A passing shower rained upon the dry ground as they climbed the path, ending as quickly as it had begun once they reached the coastal road. The three of them walked silently towards the village until they reached the crossroads. Chad led the way through the deserted streets, not stopping until he reached a house obscured by dense shrubbery.

  “No one knows of this place,” Chad said as he opened the door. “We will be safe here.”

  Chad lit a fire while Yara looked about the rooms, the plain furnishings in sharp contrast to the opulence Chad was accustomed to.

  “What if Concordia cannot be found,” Yara asked Jafri fearfully. “What then?”

  “I do not know...pray to Allah for a miracle.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  The small fishing vessel stayed within viewing distance of the Hispanic coastline once the tiny boat successfully navigated the Strait of Gibraltar without mishap beneath the cloudless night sky. Concordia insisted she be permitted to row until she grew weary, hoping to shorten their voyage if not by days then by hours. She could not bear to be awake during the day while the men slept; being alone with her thoughts was maddening. She preferred the company of others, finding solace in their presence even if no words were spoken.

  Brantson agreed reluctantly, suppressing his laughter when Concordia fell onto the deck after leaning too far back when pulling on the oar. However, Bryce and Umar were not as sympathetic, their loud guffaws echoing in the stillness. Concordia accepted Brantson’s help, grateful that the darkness hid her embarrassment, and she did not complain when he insisted she share his oar. They rowed at a slower pace since the immediate danger had passed, conserving their strength for the lengthy voyage.

  The weather was pleasant for the first part of their journey, calm seas and star-studded skies brightening the landscape. They did not fear being attacked, a single fishing boat carried no booty, but they remained vigilant, constantly searching the waters for marauding pirates.

  As the days became weeks, Concordia grew weary of the endless sea, vowing never to embark upon such a venture again. She had her fill of adventure and was impatient to return home to await the birth of her son. Her belly was growing and it would not be long before traveling would prove difficult. She prayed each day for their safe deliverance, hoping to be at Wareham before she became burdensome, fearing an early birthing.

  Storm clouds appeared over the horizon just as Umar headed towards the shoreline of Christian Hispania. The men rowed against the swelling waves, painfully aware of their waning strength as the fishing vessel inched closer to the rocky cliffs. Concordia did not argue when Brantson told her to go below deck. She crawled towards the hatch since the boat was rocking precariously in the choppy waters, but she managed to keep her balance climbing down the ladder. Her stomach became unsettled as she fumbled to find a bowl, heaving into the container while trying to remain standing. Tears escaped the corner of her eyes as she retched repeatedly, and her head ached and her knees became weak. She fell to the floor when the boat swayed, spilling the sickening mixture over her clothes. Concordia rested her head against the edge of the bed, crying softly each time she gagged.

  Brantson was unaware that Concordia had taken ill as he mustered what remained of his strength to keep the boat afloat while Umar steered the vessel amongst the jagged rocks and Bryce searched for an opening in the rocky wall.

  “Over there!” Bryce shouted excitedly, pointing to an inlet and a partially hidden sea cave.

  The wind gusts pushed the vessel into the cove, which enabled the men to sail into the sea cave quickly, before the storm raged in earnest. They cheered when the boat drifted towards the end of the cavern, running aground on a muddy ledge. The men praised God as they peered through the opening, grateful for the surrounding rocks that protected them from being swallowed by a surging wave. Umar and Bryce rested against the wet planks, closing their eyes and succumbing to their weariness, choosing to sleep rather than satisfying their hunger.

  Brantson went below deck where he found Concordia leaning against the bed. He was horrified when he noticed her soiled clothing, suppressing the urge to gag from the smell when he held her in his arms.

  “The child?” Brantson asked anxiously.

  “Forgive my appearance...the sea made me ill,” Concordia cried. “Why do you love me so? I am such a burden.”

  Brantson paid no heed to her words because she was distraught. He removed her soiled clothing and put her on the bed, washing her body with fresh water. He covered her gently, urging her to sleep while he cleaned the floor. He grabbed the offensive-smelling bowl and dress and left the vessel, kneeling on the muddy ground as he washed away the remnants of sickness. Brantson rested on the back of his heels, watching the storm abate through the mouth of the sea cave. As the morning sky brightened, scattered sunbeams filtered into the cavern, shedding light throughout their safe haven. He reached for the Cross he wore beneath his tunic, kissed the holy object and offered a prayer of Thanksgiving for their deliverance before returning to his wife.

  Brantson jumped over the rail, walking carefully between the sleeping men as he headed toward the hatch. He was surprised to find Concordia waiting for him near the ladder.

  “You will catch a chill if you do not remove your wet clothing,” Concordia whispered as she placed her washed dress over a bench.

  Brantson did not say a word as Concordia undressed him, nor did he hesitate when Concordia led him to the bed. She covered him with the blanket before lying beside him, their naked bodies touching for the first time.

  “I have wronged you, my love, and would set things right between us,” Concordia whispered as she stroked his arm.

  Brantson sat on his elbow and looked directly into Concordia’s eyes before speaking.

  “Did you submit to Thayer willingly?” Brantson asked, his voice barely audible.

  “I was taken by force,” Concordia replied tearfully. “Thayer was not as he seemed...he is a wicked man and has done unspeakable things. I am ashamed to have been so besotted, and my foolishness almost cost you your life. Pray forgive me.”

  “You are forgiven,” Brantson whispered as he kissed his wife gently upon her lips.

  Concordia welcomed her husband’s caresses, returning his kiss urgently as her passion heightened. Brantson possessed her tenderly, their gentle rhythm giving way to a heightened crescendo as they satisfied their desire, husband and wife becoming one flesh according to God’s law.

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms, satiated and at peace. Hours passed and the cavern darkened as the sun began its downward spiral. Concordia stirred, awakened by footsteps above deck. Bryce and Umar were awake. She held her breath as she slid out of bed, not wishing to disturb her husband. She tiptoed to the bench, slipping on her dress quickly lest she was caught unawares, wishing to avoid the men’s knowing looks. She brushed back her hair and adjusted her clothing, making herself
presentable before climbing the ladder.

  “Brantson still sleeps...should I wake him?” Concordia asked while opening the hatch.

  “There are a few hours yet before nightfall,” Bryce replied. “He will awaken in time.”

  “Besides, men of his age require more rest,” Umar laughed.

  “You are most wicked,” Concordia chided as Bryce lifted her onto the deck.

  “Since we are on dry land, we thought we would stretch our legs,” Bryce told Concordia. “Would you join us?”

  Concordia shook her head in agreement and soon found herself walking on the damp ground, but she did not wander away, staying near the fishing boat while Bryce and Umar searched the crevices in the limited light. She was anxious when Umar lost his footing and fell into the water, but Umar was a proficient swimmer and was on dry land within minutes. They were in good spirits, laughing amongst themselves and did not notice Brantson jumping over the rail. Concordia screamed when Brantson came upon her stealthily, covering her eyes with his hands while kissing the nape of her neck.

  “You startled me,” Concordia laughed, leaning against him as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “It pleases me when you laugh,” Brantson whispered into her ear, “and I am counting the hours until first light.”

  Concordia felt the heat rising in her cheeks and was grateful for the shadows when Bryce glanced in their direction.

  “We need to leave before the sky darkens,” Umar interjected. “It will be difficult navigating these rocks.”

  “We trust your abilities,” Bryce said, “but you are right. We can eat once we are out to sea. I, for one, would welcome the respite.”

  “Once we reach the Frankish coast, we can replenish our supplies, and even sleep in a warm bed,” Umar told them.

  “Do you think that is wise? Spending the night on land?” Bryce asked.

  “There is a small fishing village in a secluded cove...I know it well,” Umar replied. “We would be welcome and need not fear betrayal.”

  Brantson helped Concordia onto the deck before assisting Bryce and Umar as they pushed the boat into the water before boarding the vessel. They rowed the boat through the mouth of the sea cave, skirting the jagged rocks easily as they headed out to sea.

  Once the moon was high in the sky, the men pulled in the oars while Concordia fetched the salted fish and stale bread. They had grown tired of the food, forcing themselves to chew the tough carp and dipping the bread in water lest they broke a tooth. They ate silently, each lost to their own thoughts as the fishing boat rocked gently with the waves. Concordia was comforted by the sound of water lapping against the hull as her thoughts drifted, remembering Brantson’s gentleness when he possessed her. She was thankful she could speak truthfully about Thayer, and was grateful he had no knowledge of Chad, or did he? She wondered what Bryce had told him, but then Bryce had not known that Thayer and Chad were brothers.

  “What is it?” Brantson asked Concordia when he noticed her shivering. “Perhaps you should rest below deck?”

  “It is nothing,” Concordia replied. “I was just wondering how you came upon Umar.”

  “Remember the women who tended to the wounded when we were captured?” Bryce asked Concordia who nodded. “They were taken while their men were at sea. When the men returned, they searched for the brigands, and with the Lord’s guidance discovered the cave. They killed the pirates, freeing everyone of us before they sank their ship. I convinced Umar to remain behind, to help me search for you. He had heard of Thayer and knew well the Hispanic coastline. Most of the wounded survived and returned to their lands, my men included. By now word has reached King Alfred and your father will know you live. We did not have time to bury the dead, fearing reprisal, so we headed towards the town where Umar learned that Thayer had a villa in Málaga. It was Umar’s idea to purchase the fishing boat, a simple ruse that would fool everyone. We stayed on the boat the evening before we were to set sail, choosing a secluded inlet that was rarely used. The night was still, not even a whisper of wind, and the waves broke quietly upon the shore. We both heard voices coming towards us, but did not know from where until we were on the beach. I saw a Christian holy man and a wounded warrior at the base of the hill, heading towards the rocks in search of what? Shelter or our fishing boat? We unsheathed our swords, ready for a fight, but as they walked closer I recognized them both. Brother Frederic praised God for their deliverance as I hurried to Brantson’s aid. Many of his wounds still bled, and he was fortunate to have survived the attack. It is by God’s grace that you live, my friend!”

  Concordia cried as she listened to Bryce, blaming herself yet again for their plight, and for Brother Frederic’s death.

  “We have rested long enough,” Brantson interrupted when he noticed Concordia’s tears.

  “I did not mean to cause you any distress,” Bryce told Concordia.

  “I witnessed Brother Frederic’s death,” Concordia sobbed. “He died by Thayer’s hand.”

  Brantson took his wife below deck while Bryce and Umar began rowing. He sat beside her on the bed and waited for her to regain her composure.

  “Brantson, I have been a besotted fool. I was in the village with my slave. I noticed a crowd gathering in the field and was curious. I saw Brother Frederic preaching the Word of God, but before I could speak to him, Thayer’s armed soldiers galloped into the crowd, killing as many people as they could. I hid in the bushes, fearing for Brother Frederic. They encircled him, taunting him while slashing his arms. He was bleeding when a lone horseman headed in their direction. I could not believe it was Thayer. He rode past me with his sword raised. He... he cut off Brother Frederic’s head.”

  “You should not have witnessed such horror,” Brantson said as he held her in his arms. “I am at fault for not protecting you.”

  “It is I who am to blame,” Concordia wept. “Brother Frederic’s blood is on my hands.”

  “You are not at fault. Brother Frederic chose a martyr’s fate. He was searching for the missionary priest and must have stumbled upon the village. When he did not return to our hiding place, we feared the worst, and our fears were proven. If anyone is to blame, it is I, because I sent him.”

  “I will do penance for both of us,” Concordia whispered, “but I grow weary. Would you be angry if I rest?”

  “I want you to rest and will stay with you until you sleep,” Brantson replied, as he laid her upon the bed. “You are safe now.”

  Brantson stroked her hand, waiting patiently until she slept before taking his place on the oar bench. He would speak with the Bishop upon his return lest Concordia’s guilty conscience destroyed them both.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  The Frankish coastline loomed ahead, a welcome sight for the weary travelers as the night sky began to lighten. The men mustered the last of their strength, rowing furiously to reach the shore before the sunlight made their presence known. Umar steered clear of the fishing village he had visited in the past, preferring the protection a nearby sea cave afforded until they were rested and had agreed upon a plan. Even though these villagers were his mother’s people, Umar was cautious. As a child he had spent his summers fishing with his Uncle Lothar, but that was years ago, and he was not sure if his mother’s brother still lived. Even though it was unlikely that brigands had taken over the village, Umar refused to take undue risks, especially after everything he had suffered.

  The fishing boat rocked gently in the calm waters, the soft sound of rippling waves splashing against the vessel, lulling the men to sleep where they sat, which is how Concordia found them when she came on deck. She rested her elbows upon the rail, admiring the sunbeams dancing through the mouth of the cavern while wistfully thinking of home, but when the child within her stirred, her thoughts turned to Chad. She wondered if he would search for her once he discovered she was missing. She did want to see Chad again, if only to say goodbye, but that would not be wise, and she knew why. Concordia still had feelings for the father of her un
born child, and she was ashamed because of this truth, a truth she knew Yara suspected. Yara...she had forgotten about the woman she had befriended. She shivered, and her eyes became moist when she wondered if Yara would have been punished for the role she played in her escape. She should have waited for Yara to return, but there had been little time, and once she came upon Brantson, nothing else mattered. She would leave Yara’s fate in God’s hands, trusting in His mercy.

  The morning hours passed slowly for Concordia who did not like being alone with her own thoughts. She longed for the life she once lived, remembering her heated discussions with Brother Frederic in the classroom, and her joy whenever he agreed with her thinking.

  “May your soul rest in peace,” Concordia said beneath her breath. “You will be sorely missed.”

  Concordia sighed while tapping her foot against the wood planks, but she stopped when Bryce coughed. She did not want to awaken them, or did she? She stood still, wondering if Bryce was awake, but she mumbled apologies when he stretched lazily, his hands hitting Brantson and Umar.

  “I did not mean to disturb you,” Concordia told them sheepishly.

  “Do not be troubled,” Brantson replied kindly, holding her hand in his when he joined her at the rail. “We must decide what we are to do.”

  “The fishing boats will be returning soon, but I would have us go ashore before then,” Umar interjected. “However, Concordia must remain hidden below deck until we can ensure her safety. If all goes as planned, we can rest here for a few days, but this will be our only respite. We might have eluded the pirates, but the journey is still dangerous. Pray to your God for calm seas lest we spend eternity in a watery grave.”

  “Amen to that,” Bryce grinned as he put his oar in the water.

  Concordia sat beside Brantson, rowing in unison with the men as the vessel left the cavern’s protective walls and headed towards the fishing village. Children waved as the boat approached the shore while the women stopped what they were doing and hurried towards them.