"They say that Ubbanford is a couple of days away," Acennan said. "Three if we run into bad weather." He nodded in the direction of the clouds. "Perhaps we should stay here one more night."
Beobrand looked at Sunniva. She was as radiant as ever, but there was a slight pinched look about her eyes. Her lips were pressed thin. She hated it here, he knew. She felt caged; longing to be free of the constant noise and chaos of the fortress.
"No, we leave now and put some distance between us and Bebbanburg before nightfall." He turned to the men who had joined him. With Acennan and Anhaga, they numbered nine. Not an army, but more than a band of thieves. He knew them all. Strong men. Good men.
The oldest of them was Tobrytan. Grey-haired and dependable as a rock. And maybe as slow.
Elmer was tall and broad-shouldered. A solid warrior in a shieldwall, slow to anger, but deadly as an angry aurochs if goaded. When he looked on his wife, Maida, or either of his children, his eyes told of a softness of heart that appealed to Beobrand.
Aethelwulf and Ceawlin were both quiet, taciturn men. Dour and drab of face, they were inseparable friends who rarely smiled. But give them a bellyful of mead and they became as boisterous as puppies; laughing and jesting until falling into drunken oblivion. As their lord, Beobrand would need to take care they did not drink him into poverty.
Garr was tall and slim. He moved with a grace that belied his speed. He was a master in the use of the spear, both held in his hands and thrown. It was said he could throw a javelin further than any other man. Having seen him throwing in practice, Beobrand could not dispute the claim.
Lastly there was Attor. He was fleet of foot and rode as well as the best Waelisc horseman, making him a perfect scout; a role he had often fulfilled for Scand. He shunned garbing himself in iron, instead wearing only cloth and leather in battle. Yet many were the ravens he had fed with the corpses of men who had judged him on his slight form and lack of armour. His lust for blood in battle was the subject of many a mead hall tale.
All of these warriors had served Scand. Beobrand felt humbled by their trust in him. He hoped he would live up to that trust. He held their lives in his hands now. He was their hlaford. The lord who would provide them with food and gifts, in exchange for their loyal service.
He flushed with pride as he recalled the scene earlier that day when the men had sworn their oaths to him. He had spoken the familiar words before, but had never thought to hear them uttered to him.
Each warrior had vowed his allegiance to Beobrand before the king himself. Oswald sat on his gift-stool in the great hall. He was happy to preside over the oath-taking. Many other unions were sworn that day as thegns and ealdormen heard the oaths of warriors.
The scene had embarrassed Beobrand somewhat. It seemed wrong that these men should kneel before him. And yet it was a solemn moment. It could not be ignored or rushed. The last to swear was Acennan.
"I will to Beobrand, son of Grimgundi," he had said, "be true and faithful, and love all which he loves and shun all which he shuns, according to the laws of God and the order of the world. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to him, on condition that he will hold to me as I shall deserve it."
Beobrand had raised Acennan up from his knees and embraced him.
"I accept your oath, Acennan, son of Bron." He had swept his gaze over his new warband. "I accept all of you with a glad heart." He had looked at the faces staring at him. Hard men. Some bearded. All older than he. His mouth had grown dry. What could he offer them?
"I have been blessed. Our king has seen fit in his generosity to give me land and I am honoured." Beobrand inclined his head to Oswald, who looked on with an amused expression. "And I have been blessed with the bravest and most noble of hearth warriors." Acennan and the others grinned. "I am young, but we have fought side by side and you know me, as I know you. I will not forsake you, as I know you will not let me down."
The men had cheered. Beobrand had blushed, but when he looked at Oswald, the king had nodded in approbation.
Now his warband stood in the courtyard, ready to leave Bebbanburg. Elmer, Garr, Aethelwulf and Ceawlin all brought women with them. Along with those women, there were seven children of varying ages. The youngest was Elmer's boy, still a babe, carried in Maida's arms. The oldest was Garr's willowy daughter, a girl of about ten years.
All of them looked at Beobrand, waiting for him. A score of people looking to him to lead. His throat was thick. It was hard to swallow. Sunniva smiled at him.
Well, if he was going to lead, he would need to start.
"Come, my gesithas. My comitatus. We have fought and returned victorious. Now is the time to reap the rewards. Let us travel to our new home. We have earned the rest."
The sun had disappeared behind the hills in the west when they made camp. The horizon was a dim line of gold, the underside of the clouds aflame with the last rays of sunlight.
They were all exhausted. Beobrand had soon realised that travelling with a lame man, women and children would prove difficult. He was used to a faster pace, but soon after leaving Bebbanburg the tears had started amongst the younger children. In the end, three of the children had ridden on Sceadugenga, while the others were carried, either by their mothers or their fathers.
Anhaga had managed to acquire a mule from the stables of the fortress too, with the promise that it would be returned at the earliest opportunity. It was fully laden with all of the provisions and equipment they thought it could bear. The morose beast rolled its eyes balefully at them, but walked fast enough without them having to resort to beating it.
"Anhaga is already proving useful," said Beobrand to Sunniva. She did not reply. They looked on as the men and women prepared the camp. "He found us this cave. We'll be glad of it tonight when the rain comes."
Sunniva nodded. There was no denying Anhaga's resourcefulness in obtaining the mule. And finding them shelter from the elements on what looked likely to be a wet night could not be a bad thing. And yet, Beobrand knew that Sunniva was not happy about Anhaga's presence. He was not sure why, but was too tired to pry now. Perhaps it was because he was a cripple. Many believed such men were cursed. He would ask her once they were at Ubbanford.
A couple of the men were lighting a fire under the overhanging slab of rock he had referred to as a cave. Huge rocks made up a deep recess in a hillside. It was not really a cave, being open to the elements at the sides, but it would provide protection from rain. And the heat from the fire would be reflected from the rocks. It was a good place to camp.
Anhaga removed the burdens from the mule and tethered it. Beobrand saw to Sceadugenga himself. Once the animals were tended to and the fire was lit, it was full dark. The younger children were already asleep. The women began to cook a pottage over the fire, using a large clay pot.
Beobrand beckoned to Acennan and the men. They walked some way from the fire and the protection of the cave. Around them was utter blackness. The wind-rustle of trees sounded like cowardly whispers of treachery in the dark. The men's eyes glinted with reflected light from the fire. The scent of damp loam was heavy in the air. It would be raining soon.
"Cadwallon is no more, but we must remain vigilant," said Beobrand. "The land is Oswald's, but it is not tame. Each of us will take a watch tonight."
The men grunted and groaned, but they did not complain. They knew he was right.
After they had gone back to the camp, Acennan placed a hand on Beobrand's shoulder. Beobrand started. He was nervous.
Acennan chuckled quietly. "No need to worry, Beobrand. I know you. You think too much. All will be well. You have me to help you." The stocky warrior walked to the fire.
Beobrand remained at the edge of the camp for some time. Staring into the darkness. The wind was picking up. A chill shivered his spine.
All will be well.
His mother used to say that. He had never truly believed it as a boy. Now, with the weight of new leadership pressing u
pon him, it seemed a vain hope.
Rain fell noisily in the night. It kept many of them awake. The lip of the cave was veiled in a sheet of water. It was as if they stood behind a waterfall. The small flames of the fire glimmered in the wall of water. A child cried, scared by the constant crash of the storm.
Beobrand was glad that Anhaga had led them to this cave. They were dry and warm enough in the shelter. And yet he could not sleep. What would await them at Ubbanford? He could stand in shieldwalls. Stand toe to toe against a warrior bedecked in war harness. Yet to impart the dire news of the deaths of Ubba and his sons to the lady of the hall was a prospect that filled him with dread.
He reached over to Sunniva's warm form in the darkness. He was gentle, not wishing to awaken her should she be asleep. But he wanted to feel her touch. His hand brushed her back and she stiffened. He withdrew his hand.
"What is wrong, my love," he whispered, close to her ear. He breathed deeply of the scent of her hair.
For a long while she did not reply. Perhaps he'd imagined her reaction. Maybe she slept still. Then she rolled over. Her face was wet. Slick with tears. His stomach lurched. It pained him to see her thus. But he was no stranger to grief. Sometimes you needed to weep. He reached up and wiped her tears from her cheek. His rough, sword-callused hand felt clumsy against the smooth perfection of Sunniva's face.
"I miss my father and my mother," she said in a small voice.
"I miss my family too," he said. He could not bring himself to speak of his father.
"I have no brýdgifu." Beobrand started at the mention of the bride gift, the dowry paid by a bride's family that would belong to her and her alone.
Sunniva continued: "You need not speak to my family to agree the handgeld. I understand why you do not marry me. There is no need. And I am happy to be yours. I love you. But I had always dreamt of my handfasting to be before my friends and family. Now, I have no family, and my friends are left behind or gone."
Beobrand's heart clenched. He had been blinded by the turn in his own fortunes. He had not seen Sunniva's desires.
"Do not think that I do not wish to marry you," he said, urgency lending a sharpness to his words. "I love you and I must be favoured by the gods themselves to have received so much." Sunniva flinched. He knew she disliked referring to the gods. She believed it tempted them to pay heed to the lives of mortals. Better to be left alone.
"Do not fear for your brýdgifu or the handgeld. I cannot bring back our families," he cursed inwardly at his clumsy words. The handgeld was a price he should have paid to Sunniva's family. To his own ears he sounded more concerned for the cost of their marriage than their love. "But I will see to it that you are provisioned for. Your morgengifu will be fine. I have it all planned," he lied. He would have to think of something to offer her as her morning-gift — the present he would give her on the day after celebrating their marriage. Still, perhaps he could delay the decision for a few days.
"Let us plight our troth tomorrow, here, before these good people. Then we will seal our handfasting with a feast at our new home."
Her tears had ceased. He held her close to him; stroked her hair.
The noise of the rain lessened.
He sensed that the worst of the storm had passed.
The storm blew over them in the night and the day dawned chill and misty. Some of the wood they had stored for the morning had got damp and now the fire smoked and spat like an angry wyrm. There had been no incident in the night and the group seemed in good spirits.
The children ran around the clearing outside the cave. The womenfolk prepared food. The men packed gear into sacks. Anhaga piled provisions onto the mule. It stood, sullen and stolid. Somehow it managed to convey its disgust at being so laden, with a flick of its ears and a snort. Anhaga whispered soothing words to it. The mule seemed unimpressed.
When they had broken their fast and were ready to leave, Beobrand summoned them all.
"There is something, or rather someone, I have neglected over the past few days." The men looked on with interest. The women stood thin-lipped and disapproving. It seemed they knew what and who he had neglected. The thought came to him then that it was these very women who had prompted Sunniva's distress the night before.
He held out his hand to Sunniva. She stepped close and placed her small hand in his.
Her hair shone in the hazy morning light. She wore the blue dress she had worn that summer day back in Gefrin where they had lain together for the first time. Beobrand felt himself stirring at the memory. Gods, now was not the time for that! He looked away from her with a sheepish grin.
He caught Acennan's eye. His friend smiled and winked. It seemed he had a good idea what Beobrand was about to say too. Perhaps they all did.
"I have received many gifts these last few days. Treasure and land from our lord king. Your oaths. But the treasure I value most is here." Beobrand turned back to gaze at Sunniva. She smiled back at him. Her eyes glittering.
"I wish for all of you good people to witness now as I, Beobrand, son of Grimgundi, stand before you with Sunniva, daughter of Strang. I hereby take her hand and with this handfasting I solemnly plight my troth to her until death parts us. Do you, Sunniva, daughter of Strang, plight your troth to me."
"I do, and gladly," Sunniva said, her voice quiet but steady.
"Then so be it. Let all who have witnessed this know that we are now wed. I will seal the promise with the morgengifu when we are settled at our new home. At Ubbanford we will also celebrate the handfasting with a feast."
The assembled folk let out a ragged cheer. The women looked less fierce now. They seemed to approve of his actions. Acennan flashed his teeth in a grin.
"Now, let us be on the move," Beobrand said in a loud voice. "The day is free of rain and we still have far to travel."
Everyone moved to ready themselves for the journey. Beobrand noticed with surprise that Anhaga was already limping out of the clearing, the mule plodding along behind him. The man was not the fastest of travellers, but he was eager to please.
Sunniva pulled him close and placed a kiss upon his lips.
"Thank you," she said.
He held her at arms' length and drank in her beauty.
He shook his head. "I should be thanking you," he said.
PART TWO
SECRETS AND SHADOWS
"Grendles modor,
ides aglæcwif yrmþe gemunde"
"She'd brooded on her loss, misery had brewed
In her heart, that female horror, Grendel's Mother"
Beowulf
CHAPTER 9
It took them the best part of two more days to reach Ubbanford. It would have taken longer had Anhaga not known the land so well. He led them along paths that could barely be discerned. Tracks overgrown with thick vegetation took them down to infrequently used fords across streams swollen with the recent rain.
The first day they made good progress, though they all grew tired of the children's moaning. More than once a grizzling child would be made to wail when its father became weary of the whimpering. Each time a child was cuffed Beobrand had to strive hard to suppress a shudder. He supposed the shadow of his father would always be with him. But none of these children were treated harshly. Their tired parents would follow a command with a slap, not with a fist.
Beobrand watched Sunniva as they travelled. She loved the little ones, and would often carry the smaller children. What would their children be like? Would he be a good father? Did he carry his father's rage within him? Could he turn into a figure of fear to a child?
His mother had told him he was not his father's son. He was still unsure about what she had meant, but he vowed he would never allow himself to treat a child or a woman the way his father had.
Beobrand looked forward to reaching their destination. If nothing else it would bring some respite from the noise of women and children. He still dreaded having to bring the news he bore for Lady Rowena. But he was a thegn now, and such was his duty. He
could kill easily enough. Now he must learn to lead. Part of that was to be able to give bad tidings as well as good. As with a battle, the waiting before is almost as bad as the fight itself. He wished to have this task over with. The closer they got to Ubbanford, the more withdrawn he became. He knew he had to deliver the news, but he didn't have to like it.
They camped that night on the edge of a copse of blackthorn. As the sun set, they could see in the distance a ring of huge standing stones, black shadows against the glare in the west. They clawed their way out of the earth like the tips of a giant's fingers.
"Is it safe to sleep so close to those stones? Who knows what evil creeps abroad near such ancient cairns?" Acennan asked, though who he addressed was unclear.
Anhaga replied, "I have camped here before and nothing bad befell me." Then, as if an afterthought, "Except for this leg, of course. I went to sleep that night hale. I awoke a cripple." He continued to unbridle the mule. His face betrayed no emotion, though Beobrand was sure he saw a twinkle of humour in his eye.
Acennan spat. "Truly? Then this is a place of evil. We should not rest here."
Beobrand laughed. "Can you not see that he jests? Isn't that so, Anhaga?"
"Of course, my lord," Anhaga answered. Then, after a pause, "If you say so."
"Enough of this," said Beobrand. "The joke wears thin. I do not wish one of the bairns to hear you and be weeping half the night." Anhaga frowned and stomped off to fetch firewood.
"Now Acennan," Beobrand said, "organise the men to keep watch all night. Not for creatures of the otherworld, but for any rogues who would seek to take that which is ours."
A light drizzle fell throughout the night. In the morning they awoke stiff and cold. The scant shelter of the trees did nothing in the face of the soft rain. The damp had seeped into every item of clothing. The moisture seemed to rise as much from the loam beneath them as fell from the leaden sky.
The Cross and the Curse (Bernicia Chronicles Book 2) Page 13
