A Moment in Time

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A Moment in Time Page 44

by Bertrice Small


  His brow furrowed in mock concentration, and then he said thoughtfully, "You cannot gather and grow herbs after the growing season is over, lady. Neither can you dig for roots or seek barks except in the warm seasons. Is your pharmacea well-stocked with the provisions you need right now, Welsh woman? Are you well-prepared for any emergency?"

  "Aye, my lord, it is and I am. There are a host of remedies that I must have on hand, and others whose ingredients but wait to be mixed and blended," Wynne told him truthfully.

  "I see." Caddaric almost purred the words, and suddenly all the women at the table were alert and wary of what was to come. The new thegn smiled toothily. "You do little, it appears to me, to pay for your keep and that of your children, lady. My half sister Averel is my responsibility, and one I shall not shirk; but your son, lady, is another matter. He takes the serf, Gytha, away from the fields, thus costing me her labor. How will you pay me for his keep and the loss of Gytha?"

  Wynne was shocked by his question. What was she to say to him? She was his father's widow, and by all rights should not have to account for herself, or her children, or her use of the serfs.

  "You refuse to cooperate with me in my efforts to sire a child on you, lady," he continued. "You curse my very vitality with your witchcraft. Is it possible if I wooed you more gently you would come to me of your own free will?"

  "Never!" The word was out of her mouth before she might even think on it. She quickly attempted to soften the harshness of it with him. "Please, Caddaric Aethelmaere, please understand. I loved your father and, although I sympathize with your dilemma, to give myself to you would be a betrayal of Eadwine. I cannot betray a man who loved me, and who was so good to me, and whose daughter I bore."

  "So be it," Caddaric said in a silky voice. "You have chosen your own fate, Welsh woman. If you will not be mine, then I shall make you the whore of the hall. You will pay for your keep and that of your son in this way." He smiled again, but his eyes were cold.

  Eadgyth cried out as if she had been pierced with something sharp, and the others gasped, turning horrified eyes on Wynne. "Caddaric," his wife begged him, "do not do this thing, I beg of you."

  "Be silent!" he told her, and then, turning back to Wynne, said, "Do you know who the whore of the hall is? She is the woman appointed by the lord to service his male visitors in whatever manner they so desire. There was no whore of the hall in my father's time, for he thought it a cruel practice to force a woman to such labor. I, however, see nothing wrong in offering my guests a full range of hospitality."

  Wynne stood up and her voice was filled with distaste and loathing for the man. "I will do no such thing, Caddaric Aethelmaere. How dare you even suggest it? When I think that your father gave his precious life to save such as you, I grow ill with the memory of Eadwine's death."

  "Disobey me and your brat will suffer for it," he told her dispassionately.

  "Is this how you keep your sacred oath to your father to care for me and for our children, Caddaric Aethelmaere? You are dishonorable beyond the bounds of decency," Wynne told him furiously, her green eyes flashing.

  "I did not promise my father that I should care for you, Welsh woman. I said I should look after my sister Averel, and that the boy would not suffer at my hands. He will not, but what is to prevent me from selling him to the first slaver I meet the next time I go to Worcester?" He laughed cruelly. "A pretty little boy like Arvel would fetch a handsome price and more than pay me back for my trouble. You will do what I tell you or I will take your son from you. How will you explain it to the boy's father when he comes someday to retrieve you both?" And the new thegn laughed again. "If indeed that story you told my father was truth, though I suspect it was not. How far will you go to protect your brat, Welsh woman? You are a good mother, aren't you?"

  "I will take my children and leave Aelfdene," Wynne said quietly. "Somehow I will find my way back home."

  Caddaric Aethelmaere rose to his feet shouting, "You will go nowhere, Welsh woman! You and your children will remain at Aelfdene, and you will whore for your son's keep! You might have been my woman, but since you find that so distasteful, you will be any man's woman. You will service the guests in my hall as the bitches in my kennels service the hounds. Do you understand me?" He grasped her upper arm, his fingers digging into the flesh hurtfully.

  The rage boiling over in her, Wynne slapped him with her free hand, using every ounce of her strength. Then pulling away from him, she fled to the relative safety of her little chamber. It was there that Eadgyth found her, half tearful and frightened, yet angry and defiant. "I will kill him!" she said to her friend through gritted teeth. "I will cut his black heart from his hairy chest and eat it before his very eyes!"

  "Do not fear," Eadgyth said calmly. "Caddaric may say what he wishes, but you will not be forced to whore for your living, Wynne. We will protect you. I promise you!"

  "How?" Wynne demanded of Eadgyth. "You are all terrified of Caddaric. You will not defy him. I must leave here! There is no other way, and in that you can help me, for I will not leave my children behind."

  "Caddaric need never know that we are helping you," Eadgyth explained patiently. "Calm yourself, Wynne, and think a moment. Few visitors pass through Aelfdene. When any do come and Caddaric offers you to them, we will see that the offer is not accepted. Trust us in this matter. We are your friends."

  "How can you prevent a lustful man from his desires?" Wynne said. "And you cannot offer such a man another woman, for Caddaric would then wonder why his whore of the hall was not doing her duty. No, Eadgyth, it is impossible. I must flee Aelfdene!"

  Eadgyth chuckled and replied, "Your fear is making you act irrationally. Think, I beg you! How did you stop my husband and keep him from his vile purpose, Wynne? You frightened him and made him believe you had cursed his manhood."

  "But that was simple given the fact that Caddaric is known to be superstitious, and given the fact that he was already having some difficulty in performing his manly duties," Wynne said. "I had but to play on his weakness, but the men who pass through Aelfdene will be lusty fellows, filled with energy and pent-up passions, and eager to fuck a pretty woman. I will not be able to deter them in their intent," she finished. "No, Eadgyth, it is impossible!"

  "You will not have to frighten these men away from you, Wynne," Eadgyth told her. "We will! Berangari, and Dagian, Haesel, and Aelf, and myself. We will convince any man coming into this hall and offered your services that you are a sorceress. That you have rendered our poor husband useless, and if they value their own manhoods, they will not go near you. If there is one brave enough to attempt to breach your walls, we will drug his wine before he has the chance. Caddaric need never know of our deception. No man would dare chance the loss of his manhood, but neither will he admit to fear, particularly fear of a mere woman. And what can Caddaric do about it? He cannot force his guests between your thighs, can he?" Eadgyth laughed aloud. "It is really quite a good plan, I think. Don't you?"

  Wynne nodded slowly. It was a good plan! "Eadgyth," she said, "why is it you are constantly amazing me?" She hugged her companion and then continued, "Thank you, Eadgyth! And the others too. You are truly the best friends I have ever had."

  The winter drained away and the days grew longer as the springtime approached. The women at Aelfdene went about their daily tasks in a calm and orderly manner. There were no visitors, but they all knew that come the warm months there would be. It was simply a matter of time. Then one day a thegn, whose holding was farther to the northwest, stopped overnight at Aelfdene on his way to Worcester.

  "May I offer you the services of the whore of the hall?" Caddaric said jocularly to his guest as they sat sharing a jug of wine after the meal. "She's a particularly toothsome and spicy wench. Wynne! To me! We have a guest in need of pleasuring."

  "She is not Saxon," the thegn, whose name was Wilfred, remarked.

  "Nay, a Welsh wench. My father fancied her before his death," Caddaric replied, and then, looking up at W
ynne, who now stood before the high board, he said, "Show our guest your breasts, Wynne."

  It had been agreed amongst the women that Wynne would behave meekly in any situation like this where Caddaric was present, to allay any suspicions on his part when afterward he learned, if indeed he did learn, that she had not been used by a stranger. Expressionless, Wynne removed her tunic dress and then her under tunic before unlacing her chemise to bare her bosom.

  "Are those not fine, big tits upon which to pillow your head?" Caddaric chortled, poking the half-drunk Wilfred, who, leaning forward, licked his lips with relish and leered suggestively at Wynne.

  "Aye," he said, and his words were faintly slurred. "I would enjoy a tumble with your whore, Caddaric Aethelmaere. I dislike travel intensely, for I am a man who services all his women daily. When I am forced to travel, my energies become pent-up and I sicken. I have been on the road for three days now, with the prospect of another two days of riding before I reach my destination; not to mention the return trip. She looks like she'll be a juicy fuck."

  "Wait at his bed space for our guest, Wynne," Caddaric ordered her with a pleased grin.

  With a cold nod, Wynne restored her clothing to their proper mode and moved away from the high board. Berangari leaned over from her place at her husband's left and whispered something in his ear. Arising, he asked that his guest excuse him for a brief moment and moved off with his woman. Eadgyth slipped into her husband's place and said softly to Wilfred, "Do not use the woman Wynne, my lord."

  "What?" Wilfred looked puzzled.

  "She is a sorceress, my lord. My husband sought to have her after his father died. She cursed his manhood so that he has not functioned in a normal manner since. She has threatened to do so with any man who tries to mount her."

  "This is truth, lady?" The thegn, Wilfred, looked distinctly worried regarding Eadgyth's revelations.

  "Aye, my lord," Eadgyth said, nodding her head vigorously.

  "Why does your husband offer such a woman to his guests then?" Wilfred contemplated aloud. "Why does he not just send her away?"

  "He will not send her away because he promised his father to look after her. Wynne was the old thegn's favorite. She is our healer," Eadgyth explained logically. "My husband is a generous man, but somewhat shortsighted at times. He would be the best of hosts, you see, and foolishly offers the woman to you, hoping to please."

  "You're certain the woman would curse me?" Wilfred asked, his eyes moving down the hall to where Wynne stood. She was a most toothsome female, and he was very reluctant to give her up.

  "Did you see her smile, my lord? She never smiles. Ever. She had a soft spot for the old thegn, but she is a cold, hard woman with no heart. She wouldn't hesitate to hex you. I think she enjoys hurting men. Ahhh! The suffering she has caused us all!" Eadgyth sighed, her hand resting dramatically over her heart. "I would not wish such tragedy upon your wife and women. My poor Caddaric! He will never be the same again, although," and here Eadgyth lowered her voice so that the thegn, Wilfred, was forced to lean forward to hear her, "you must not tell him I told you of our mutual misfortune." And Eadgyth wiped a tear from her eye, or so at least the thegn, Wilfred, thought, sympathy rising in his breast for this gentle, good woman who but sought to save him.

  "There, there," he sympathized with her, patting Eadgyth's hand. "Caddaric will not know that we have spoken on this matter, lady. As for the whore of the hall, tell her I have changed my mind. Caddaric need not know of that either."

  The next morning the thegn, Wilfred, departed, promising to stop at Aelfdene on his way home, but he did not return. During the warm months of summer that year there were several visitors to Aelfdene, for Caddaric was foolishly involving himself in the politics of the day. King Edward was not well, and Harold Godwinson was lobbying hard for the English throne. None of these visitors, however, availed themselves of the hall's whore. Caddaric was at first surprised, but as the days went by and Wynne remained untouched by any other man, he began to grow angry.

  "Is there no one who will help me to bring this proud bitch to heel?" he grumbled to Eadgyth.

  "Perhaps, my husband, it is God's way of intervening in your cruel plan," she told him boldly. Eadgyth was the only one of Caddaric Aethelmaere's women who might speak to him without fear of reprisal. "I think God has saved you from yourself, and I thank him for it."

  But Caddaric was not pleased by her words. Each day he watched as Wynne fed Averel, who was now toddling about the hall on fat, unsteady little legs. He watched her sit by the fire pit nursing her daughter, her son by her knee chattering up at her and stroking Averel's little head tenderly. The little boy adored his baby sister. How strange, Caddaric thought to himself. This small boy with his raven's hair and his deep blue eyes; this so obviously Welsh child and I have much in common. Averel. Averel who is both his half sister and mine.

  Daily Caddaric Aethelmaere watched Wynne and her children, growing more and more embittered. Her womb was as fertile as one of his newly harvested fields. Yet she denied him its use. She denied him the children he so desperately desired. He had made her the lowest of the low in his hall; still everyone treated her as they had treated her in the days when his father had been alive. Worse! For some strange reason, no man who had come into his house as a guest would avail himself of her services. She remained cool and untouched. It was driving him mad. He wanted to punish her. He wanted to humble her. He wanted to destroy her even as she was destroying him!

  He would give her to the first man who would use her in his very presence so that he could be certain she would be brought down and demeaned, he promised himself, and he waited for that man and that day.

  Chapter 18

  Autumn came once more and with it a peddler's cart that rumbled down the barely visible path that led from a poorly marked secondary track to Aelfdene manor. It was late afternoon. The serfs and the geburas, curious, came from the fields and from their houses, delighted for this pleasant intrusion into their otherwise dull lives. The cart was drawn by a rather tired-looking dusty brown horse who ambled into the manor house courtyard as if he were coming home and then abruptly stopped.

  Atop the cart's bench seat sat two men. One was large with shoulder-length grey-white hair. Stepping down from the cart, he announced in a rough voice, "I am Boda, the peddler. I have come to trade, and I seek shelter for the night." Boda walked with a most pronounced limp.

  Caddaric Aethelmaere stepped forward. "I am the thegn of Aelfdene," he said. "You're welcome to my hall. Let me see your goods and we will talk."

  "Very good, my lord," Boda said, and turned to the other man with him, a gaunt shambling fellow with a half-vacant look. "Display our goods, you fool!"

  "Who is he?" demanded Caddaric.

  "My son Tovi," Boda replied. "Since birth he has been slow in his mind."

  "Why do you keep him with you?" Caddaric asked.

  "Why not? I do not have to pay him, and he is too stupid to steal from me, aren't you, Tovi?" The peddler chuckled.

  Tovi offered his audience a gap-toothed grin and nodded. He had the definite look of a half-wit about him.

  "A slave would have cost me money, my lord. With Tovi I have but to feed him regularly and beat him occasionally. Or is it feed him occasionally and beat him regularly?" The peddler chuckled loudly at his own humor. Then he said, "If you have women you would favor and are of a mind to be generous, bring them forth. I have many pretties and geegaws that will appeal to the ladies."

  Caddaric did not know how generous he was of a mind to be this day, but Eadgyth and his lesser women had been particularly accommodating of late. "Bring your mistress and the others," he commanded the nearest serf.

  The peddler and his son began to display their goods for all to see. Caddaric was astounded by the variety of merchandise laid out from the small cart which hardly seemed large enough to hold half of what was presented. There were some fine iron pots and attractive glass vessels, as well as the usual supplies of salt and spice
s; but it was the extent of the luxury goods brought forth that amazed Caddaric. He was unable to keep from saying so.

  Boda nodded as if pleased by the young thegn's astuteness. "We are a large family of traders," he said chattily. "I have nine brothers, and our business extends from England all the way to Byzantium. It is there my eldest brother does the buying for us all, as it is cheaper to buy directly in Constantinople than if we bought from some middleman here in England or elsewhere. The goods are then shipped to us wherever we are. I make my home in London during the winter months, but once the roads are passable again, Tovi and I travel about in our little cart, trading and selling as we go."

  "Your little cart holds a great deal," Caddaric noted.

  " 'Tis all in the packing, my lord," Boda assured him with an airy wave of his hands.

  The women had come from the house and were exclaiming excitedly over the peddler's wares. The fabrics displayed on wooden racks had them in raptures. There was fine linen from Genoa; scarlet silk from Lucca; blue and white silks as well as beautiful woolen cloth from Firenze. There were fine-tooled leather belts, and leather belts that had been gilded in gold leaf. There were silver and bronze buckles from Byzantium, and a very beautiful silver dish from the same city, which particularly took Caddaric's fancy. Indeed, having seen it, he could scarcely let it out of his hands.

  The selection of jewelry was an excellent one. There were beads of blue and white glass, and crystal beads and those of garnet. There were gold and garnet disk brooches, and other brooches fashioned from silver and decorated with moonstones. There were bracelets of both silver and gold; as well as decorative pins. A rock crystal pendant set in a silver sling took Berangari's fancy, but Eadgyth very much desired a beautifully engraved bronze work box. The others argued over simpler treasures such as small ivory boxes and packets of needles.

  Wynne, however, fell in love with a fine-painted dower chest. "It would be perfect for Averel," she said wistfully. "It is never too soon to begin filling a girl's dower chest." She knew that had Eadwine been alive, the chest would have been immediately purchased for their daughter. She did not expect Caddaric, however, to buy it. So, turning away, she returned alone to the house, unnoticed by the others.

 

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