Olga looked at her with fury rising in her obsidian eyes. Thea could have cut the chill atmosphere with her seax. ‘Make sure you are presentable and rested when Prince Vsevolod summons you tomorrow.’ Lady Olga swept from the room.
Thea’s foot throbbed, her knees ached and she felt bruised all over. She sank into her armed chair by the small stove. ‘Gudrun, she will not dare to have you punished. You must stay in the church all day tomorrow. Keep out of her sight.’ She stretched out her hand to Gudrun. ‘I am sorry if this means that you may not see Padar for now. When I am married this will change.’ She ventured a half-smile at Gudrun, who was white with fear. ‘Now what do I see on my side bench? Bring me that parcel.’
Gudrun tried to smile back and gave her mistress the oiled linen package. Thea gasped at the beauty of the gift. ‘Pine marten for a mantle trimming!’
When Gudrun showed Thea her own gift, Thea said, ‘It is worth every difficulty just to know that you are loved, Gudrun. Put the furs in one of the coffers that locks just in case Olga starts rummaging through my possessions.’
After Gudrun had locked their gifts away she whispered hoarsely, ‘My lady, what happened to you?’
‘I saw something terrible, a hard kind of justice.’
By the time she had finished telling Gudrun her story, Katya had returned with healing herbs and warm water and was bathing her feet, dabbing her cut knees and massaging her stiff shoulders. Katya whisked the muddied mantle away for brushing.
Thea obediently sipped a soothing draught of poppy. That evening she drifted into a deep sleep, thankful to be safely in her soft bed and covered with the skin of a silver wolf. She was bruised but safe. She was happy because her prince cared for her. Lady Olga was but a wart on their landscape. If she stuck to her story … anyway Prince Vladimir would not let her down. Gudrun would not be held to account.
Convinced that all would be well in her world, she dreamed happily of swans and swallows, cuckoos and jays, and it was as well that she did because her days of relative freedom were closing as a net catches a bird on water.
20
Shortly after Noon service, Prince Vsevolod summoned Thea to his receiving chamber. Lady Olga ordered her to wear a full veil and to walk straight, which was very difficult as Thea was still suffering from a sprained ankle. Thea asked Katya for her veil and her fur-lined mantle, and as Lady Olga tapped her foot impatiently, she deliberately spun out the time that she needed to make ready for this audience. Olga began to pace the chamber.
At last they were ready to leave her large, safe room. Led by Lady Olga, followed by Katya and Gudrun, Thea hobbled across the courtyard, through heavy carved oak doors, along a corridor lit with sconces, into the heart of the fortress. She was sure she saw Earl Connor in an alcove speaking to a group of boyars as they crossed the great hall. There was no time to stop. Olga urged them through the hall as if she were driving nanny goats to slaughter. Thea stumbled. Every time her maids tried to help her Lady Olga snapped, ‘The princess must walk unaided.’
Her journey to the prince was torturous, notwithstanding that she had an ominous feeling about what was awaiting her once they arrived. What could Prince Vsevolod know about her activities? She went to church diligently. She was preparing for her wedding. She had been befriended by Princess Anya and the other women of the terem. Her only adversary was Lady Olga. But then Lady Olga was sly. She was inclined to snoop and try to discover Thea’s shortcomings, though Thea wondered at this. She could not work out Lady Olga’s true motivation.
At last, they entered the receiving chamber. Prince Vsevolod, Princess Anya and Lord Michael were all seated behind a heavy table. They did not smile and she felt that she was the object of their displeasure. On the table lay a prayer mat. By St Theodosia, it was the one they had dropped during the attack on that boy. For a moment Thea thought about the boy. Surely he would be safe with Father Sebastian? Her glance returned to the table. A crumpled piece of parchment lay beside the prayer mat, one that had once been shaped like a bird. Her hand flew to her mouth and she was glad of her concealing veil. She felt the colour of guilt creeping up her neck into her face. How had they come by that prayer mat and how could they have they come by the note she had exchanged with her prince? If they knew that she had secretly met with the prince what would her fate be now? She glanced around. Olga and her husband were the only other occupants of the room apart from two guards hugging the wall by the door. A recess opened behind Prince Vsevolod but she could not see into it. Where was Vladimir? He should be here to defend her. The prince’s angry-looking father held aloft the crumpled note.
‘This was discovered in my son’s pouch last night when he came to join us for the Easter Masses. I can only suppose it is addressed to you, Princess Gita.’ Thea opened her mouth. He glared at her. ‘Do not protest. My son has confessed. He has been sent back to the fortress from whence he came to Novgorod.’ The prince turned to Katya. ‘Translate, girl. I shall speak Russian,’ he ordered. Thea did not dare admit that she understood enough Rus to understand him. She turned her head to Katya. Katya translated. As she did, Thea had cause to be further glad of her veil. Lady Olga was smirking. So it was Lady Olga who had drawn Prince Vsevolod’s attention to her.
The prince scooped up the prayer rug. ‘This was discovered this morning by a fortress guard who saw you pass through the gate, Princess Gita. The guard was under the impression that you were a servant from the fortress sent by Lady Sabrina to fetch a prayer rug from the Church of St Nicholias. We have discovered that you were caught up in a terrible incident.’ He banged his fist on the table. His countenance darkened further. ‘You will never, ever leave this fortress accompanied by only a maid and a priest ever again.’ He paused while Katya translated. He dropped his voice pitch a tone. ‘Your stay here in the terem in Novgorod is over. You are to go into the Convent of the Holy Trinity outside the city and remain there. I fear that it is questionable as to whether I can allow your marriage to take place. That will be dependent on my spiritual advisors. It will also be dependent on my son’s contrition. As it is, you cannot remain here in the Novgorod terem. My wife Anya has spoken up for you, but we cannot have a disgraced princess amongst her company of women. We guard our women. We respect them … that is, when they are deserving of respect.’ He pointed at Gudrun. ‘And she is dismissed from your service. Please make alternative arrangements for that one’s future.’ His long finger moved to Katya. ‘And the daughter of my good friend Dimitri, the saffron merchant from Constantinople, will accompany you to the Convent of the Holy Trinity.’
Olga smirked. Anya wiped a tear from her eyes with the corner of her veil. She appeared very saddened by what was happening. Thea lifted her head high after Katya had translated her response. ‘Since I wish to study further the Russian faith, a convent will suit me well,’ she said with a confidence she did not feel. She thought she noticed a brief smile hover about Princess Anya’s mouth despite her tearful eyes. It was the right response.
The prince said without emotion, ‘Then go. You depart today with a guard and in your own litter. Pack a small travelling coffer because you will have no need of worldly goods at Holy Trinity. Your other goods will be stored carefully until I decide if you are a proper bride for my son.’ He waved his long fingers dismissively at Gudrun. ‘Make arrangements for your girl.’ Looking down at his manicured nails and glancing up again, he added, ‘Perhaps the kitchen will give her a place.’
She heard Olga cough. She saw Anya shake her head at Olga. Olga leaned down and whispered into the prince’s ear. She passed an object to him. She pointed at Gudrun. The prince hesitated for the moment it would take to brush away a bothersome insect before taking a cue from Lady Olga. His face clouded with anger. ‘She is a bad influence.’ He held Gudrun’s brooch pin aloft. ‘It has cunning markings engraved on it. Where did she come by this?’
Thea had suspected that Olga had picked her locks and raided her coffers but she had not suspected that Olga would attack Gudr
un in this way. She had her response ready, the only response and the true response. ‘It was a gift from a healer in Denmark. It is not intended for magic or for the making of spells. It is simply a talisman. Please allow my maid to keep it in her possession.’
‘That I cannot do. This smacks of spells and witchery. We have had enough of wizards and witchcraft in this land. That girl will spend today within the walls of the church under the guidance of our bishop. We must turn any evil trait in your maid into good through prayer. Plotinus says in his Enneads that magic and prayer may work through natural sympathetic bonds within our world. There may yet be hope for her redemption. She has this one chance to banish any evil magic that may have entered her through the talisman. As for the object, we shall destroy it. I like not its markings.’
As Katya translated the prince made an expressive gesture, the furred cuffs of his wide sleeves falling back. ‘Every action may have magic at its source. There are those who consider the entire life of man as a bewitchment. Yet, God witnesses all. When a person prays to the saints, their prayers may be answered and that person can become immune to the magical forces directed at him … or her.’ Prince Vsevolod stood and pointed at Gudrun, who now appeared to be shaking in terror. ‘If we see further evidence of sorcery she will face an appropriate fate. Make arrangements for her future. Go, Princess Gita, and prepare for your journey. I hope that when we meet again you will have learned humility and sensibility.’
The prince sank down into his great chair. As he did, Thea became aware of another presence beyond the prince. Thea reached out and caught Gudrun’s hand as the shadow became a wide silhouette, slowly emerging into the candlelit room from the gloom of the mysterious recess set deep into the wall. The figure grew into a bishop clothed in stiff robes. He was not one she had seen in the court of Novgorod before. Like the others, he was extravagantly gowned in triangular-shaped, highly decorated skirts and each seemed layered over the other. An enormous decorated cross swung on his breast. His white beard reached his chest making him look like the painting of the Prophet Isaiah that was painted on the second layer of icons on the wall of the church dedicated to the Lady Mary. He had, Thea saw too, a great hooked nose which just made him further resemble the ancient prophet. She swallowed. He was a priest who sought out wizards.
‘Bishop Xantes has accompanied us to the city. He will look after the maid, hear her confession, help her from darkness into light. He will protect her from evil. Go, Princess Gita. Go, before I change my mind and send you back to Denmark in disgrace.’
Thea touched Gudrun and whispered, ‘I shall send for Padar.’ There was nothing else she could do. At least Gudrun would be free soon. She nearly collapsed once she began to move her frozen legs and attempted to walk away. Holding herself stiffly, with Katya taking her arm, she managed, with some dignity, to walk towards the chamber entrance. As she reached the great door, she cast a quick look behind her shoulder. Lady Olga was not watching her exit because her eyes had lit on Gudrun. They had narrowed to malevolent slits.
In that moment Thea saw that Gudrun was in great danger. By evening prayers, she must smuggle her out of the fortress. Padar and Gudrun must marry and leave Novgorod until the prince, his steward and his bishop were on their way to whatever campaign was next on their list of campaigns. As Thea returned along the corridors to the terem entrance her heart was sinking into the depths of an aching sorrow that could only be a little alleviated by the thought that Padar would protect Gudrun. She knew Earl Connor was in the fortress. She had seen him. Now she would ask for him to come to her, to come to the terem without delay. Katya would send a message by one of the pages who hung about the terem doors especially for this purpose. As she wrote her note she felt angry with her prince and not a little disillusioned. It was a terrible disappointment that Prince Vladimir had not disobeyed his father and stayed in Novgorod to guard her from his father’s wrath.
21
Usually, Padar slept lightly, alert even in slumber, ready to confront trouble. Tonight he had fallen asleep instantly, dreaming of Gudrun, wondering how he could manage another meeting, wondering if Thea had returned safely to the kremlin and without discovery. When the midnight bells rang, Padar was unprepared for the commotion beyond his courtyard. His outside doors were being dragged open; one of his boys was calling out, ‘Who goes there?’ Throwing his sealskin mantle about his shoulders he wearily climbed down the ladder into his hall.
‘Who is that?’ came several voices from the bottom of the staircase.
‘Me, you fools, be quiet. And unless I return and kick you, stay quiet. If I kick you, get to your swords as sly as the fox stealing a hen from the roost.’
Padar walked calmly to the door, edged it opened and peered into the frozen yard. The elderly English knight who kept watch over the outer gate was up. The light from the lantern which swung beneath his hand cast drifting shadows over the yard. He was talking with a tall, heavily cloaked figure. Behind them, the gate guards waited to allow a band of soldiers inside his courtyard. A smaller person, standing in front of them, was concealed in a hood and cloak.
Padar drew a sword and sheath from a sack of furs by the door, buckled his sword sheath around his cloak and pulled his door wider open. Holding the unsheathed sword in front of him, he stepped out into the courtyard. Gripping it tightly, he momentarily surveyed the group by his gate. To his surprise, two of his gate guards began shoving the heavy door closed, bringing what he had wondered could be an enemy into his courtyard. He lowered his sword, his sharpened Gabriel, purchased on his return to Novgorod, a sword of Frankish origin of which he was very proud. Perhaps he would not need it tonight.
He felt a presence behind him as he crossed his courtyard. Glancing back he saw that his boys stood in a tight knot, almost though not quite a shield wall of dwarf creatures without shields. They were positioned close together, holding small daggers. He snarled at them. ‘Wait here.’ He raised Gabriel once again into the air.
The tall man shouted at him, ‘Padar, sheath your sword: it is only me. I bring you a great treasure.’ The visitor was laughing. He spun around to face Gabriel, shook back his hood, revealing more of his face and Padar saw that the stranger was none other than Earl Connor. The Irish earl turned to the little shrouded figure and said in a gentle voice, ‘Lady, you are safe now.’
‘Gudrun.’ Padar, recognising her, hurried forward with haste, sliding on the ice, reaching out for her, the long sword, still unsheathed, threatening to drop further and trip him up. ‘Why are you here?’
Connor indicated the heavily armed guards. He spoke for Gudrun. ‘These men are here by my request and will protect us. Padar, my friend, we are travelling south to sell our goods and Gudrun is coming with us. So you had better get a wedding over and done with.’
Padar said. ‘Why is Gudrun here in the darkness of midnight?’ He looked at the frightened girl. ‘What happened?’
Connor put his arm around Gudrun. ‘No time. And, a priest’s blessing later. Lady Thea says you are betrothed to the maid. For now let us witness you pledge your troth. Trust me, it is necessary. Gudrun is in danger.’
‘Just like this. Why?’ He stared at Gudrun. Her face, what he could see of it, looked yellow in the light of the lantern. Her eyes seemed haunted. ‘What has happened to you, Gudrun?’
Something was deeply amiss.
Connor kept his arm protectively about Gudrun’s shoulder. ‘She has been accused of possession of a magic object. In Novgorod, they think magicians cast evil spells, so this puts your betrothed in great danger. It is safer if you marry her, safer for her and for you.’
Padar thought quickly. He would do anything to protect Gudrun. ‘This is not how I imagined our wedding would occur. But, I marry you willingly, Gudrun. I marry you this night.’
Gudrun nodded. ‘And I thee,’ she said, her teeth chattering from cold, or was it shock?
‘No more time wasted. She needs rest.’ Earl Connor pushed his hand into his mantle. ‘Have yo
u a ring?’
Sheathing Gabriel, Padar shook his head. ‘Inside, lots of them maybe.’ He kept silver and jewels locked away in a small coffer in his loft chamber.
‘Take this. It was stolen off a maiden seized by an Irish dragon. Fairy silver. Perfect for her. My wedding gift.’ He laughed, breaking the tension.
Gudrun smiled at last and Padar reached for her and hugged her to his breast. ‘Oh, my love, my sweet, sweet girl.’
Connor handed a velvet pouch to Padar who drew the silver ring from the purse. It had flowers and runes engraved on it, spelling the maker’s name, FRE. Runes could contain magic, Padar mused as he held the ring.
Padar lifted Gunnhild’s hands into his own and swore to be her husband. They exchanged a brief kiss. It was done, the hastiest wedding in Christendom.
‘Thank you,’ Gudrun whispered, as he slipped Fre’s ring over her third right finger. ‘Thank you for saving me from the terem kitchens, or worse.’
‘Now,’ Connor said, ‘my guard will sleep in the barn with the animals.’ He turned to the ancient English knight who lowered his lantern and nodded. ‘Padar, find me room in the hall for a few hours’ rest. I have sledges arriving at dawn. After that we use horses and boats. We have the warehouse to secure while we are away. It may be some time before we return.’
Padar called to the gaping, nudging boys. ‘Meet Gudrun, my wife. Obey her as you obey me. Now, get to your beds.’ Inside the hall, he pointed to an alcove. ‘There is a couch behind the curtain, Connor, as you well know.’ He took Gudrun’s hand. ‘Our chamber is up the ladder. Come.’
He took Gudrun by the hand and helped her to climb up into his loft chamber, his scabbard thumping up behind him. He pulled a wolfskin curtain aside to reveal the upper chamber where he slept amongst packs of cured ox hides, pots of olive oil, and opened coffers filled with elk tusks, reindeer horns and walrus teeth. ‘All for trading,’ he said, on seeing Gudrun stare wide-eyed around the chamber. He drew her closer and said into her ear. ‘We are going to be rich when this lot is sold south, Gudrun. If you do not want to return to Novgorod we shall have enough wealth to set up in Flanders, go into cloth, or return to Denmark. There are many places for a wealthy merchant, song-maker and spy to live these days.’
The Betrothed Sister Page 20
