Born of the Sun

by Joan Wolf

  But Niniane's maternal heart was wrung. What a terrible fate royal princesses faced, she thought. Married off like chattel into lands and people that were not their own. Never, she determined with ferocious intensity, never would she allow that to happen to her little girl.

  In the meanwhile, she made effort after effort to extend the branch of peace to Auda, and in trying to heal the wounds in the heart of the living child, she was unknowingly helping to heal the wounds in her own. She thought more of Auda and less of Cerdic. But her efforts went unrewarded.

  I cannot blame her, she thought one afternoon after she had invited Auda to come out riding with her and had been stiffly refused. She does not trust me. Why should she? She has been warned against me, and God knows I was unkind enough when first she came here. Why should she trust me? She is not my child. Just like a wild animal in a strange environment, Auda had to think of self-protection first.

  * * * *

  July began with a week of rain, but then the skies finally relented and sent day after day of brilliant hot sun. It was one such afternoon, after she had fed Fara and put her into her basket to sleep, that Niniane decided to go sit in the Winchester herb garden. She had been going out to the woods less frequently of late, being too much concerned with the happenings within the confines of her family.

  She was walking slowly along the neatly planted rows of herbs, enjoying the sun and for once not thinking much of anything, when the sound of voices made her realize that someone was in the garden with her. She looked up and saw, on the far side of the wooden shed which held the gardener's tools, Crida's unmistakable blond head. She stopped. Whatever was Crida doing in the garden? She thought he had been with Ceawlin. Then she heard the sound of a girl's voice. In a moment a figure, which had evidently been bending over the plants, came into view. It was Auda.

  Niniane stood still. The boy and girl had not seen her, were too absorbed in what they were saying to notice her approach. Auda had a can of water in her hand, and now, as Crida said something that evidently surprised her, her hand jerked and the water tipped and spilled. It spilled all over Crida's feet. There was a moment of silence and then Crida began to laugh.

  Auda had first recoiled in dismay, but now, tentatively at first, then with almost hysterical abandon, she joined in his laughter. Niniane began to back away. After she had taken a few steps, Crida's laughter stopped and he reached out a hand to draw Auda to him. In response the girl's arms went around his neck and she clung to him as if he were her only hope in all the world. Her long brown hair streamed down over Crida's arm and her face was pressed against his shoulder. Niniane turned and walked away.

  For the first time in months, she felt happy. The day was beautiful and warm, and quite suddenly she longed for Ceawlin. But he was listening to a particularly difficult case this day, and she knew she could not disturb him. The case involved the abduction of the daughter of a land-owning thane by one of Wuffa's hall thanes. This abduction, in the eyes of the law, was rape, and the rape of a freewoman was punishable by death.

  However, the girl had apparently been willing. She and her paramour were now appealing to the king to recognize their marriage and grant her her rights of inheritance. The main participants in the case were all in Winchester this day for Ceawlin to render his decision.

  Niniane decided to go and have a gossip with Nola.

  * * * *

  Ceawlin finished in the great hall late in the afternoon, and when he came into their sleeping room, Niniane was there, sitting on the window cushions nursing the baby. She smiled up at him and said, "How did you fare?"

  He grunted and stretched the muscles in his back. He hated to spend the whole day sitting. "You know the sort of case it was, Nan. The girl is an only child, an heiress, and the man is trying to gain land and power in the only way that is open to him. He would never have been allowed to marry the girl, so he abducted her."

  "And the girl?" she asked.

  "The girl was clearly willing. However, it is much better not to prove that she was willing, as I pointed out to her father. The union has been consummated, the girl is no longer a virgin, and is therefore useless. She will even lose her rights of inheritance if it is proved she willingly went with the man. So it is best to accept the man as her husband and save everyone's honor." He shrugged. "That is always the best solution to these cases. I don't know why they have to come to me to hear it."

  She lifted Fara from the breast and laid her across her shoulder. "It saves their face to have you be the one to make the decision," she said.

  "I suppose." He looked fretfully over her head out the window. "It is perfect weather for hunting, and I was kenneled in the hall all day."

  "Do you want to go for a ride now?" she asked impulsively.

  His eyes rested on her face. "With you?"

  "With me. It will be good to get away together for a little."

  He smiled. He had actually been hunting three days this week and his skin was brown from the sun. "I'll give orders for the horses," he said.

  * * * *

  She took him to the clearing. The air had become heavy and still and the sound of the bees was unusually loud.

  "I think we may have a storm," Ceawlin said. He looked at the pond. "I'm thirsty." He went to get a drink.

  Niniane sat on the log and watched him. "I don't think I need to worry about Auda any longer," she said when he came back to join her.

  "Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

  "I think I can safely leave her to Crida," Niniane replied. She felt so peaceful all of a sudden. She moved closer to him on the log, and when his arm went around her, she laid her head on his shoulder. They sat for a few minutes in silence, both busy with their own thoughts.

  "This is the third such case of abduction I have had within a year," Ceawlin said finally. "I am going to have to raise the fines."

  "Too many handsome landless men trying to raise themselves in the world," Niniane murmured.

  "So it seems." He bent his head to look down at her. "Why are you suddenly so sure you can leave Auda to Crida?"

  She told him about what she had seen earlier in the afternoon.

  "Hmm," said Ceawlin. "If that is the case, we had better get them married as soon as Crida turns fifteen."

  "Fifteen is too young!" Niniane protested. "You didn't marry until you were eighteen. I thought we said we would wait."

  "I had my first woman when I was fifteen," Ceawlin replied. "My father sent one of the bower women to my bed."

  "I think that is disgusting," Niniane said.

  "I know you do." His voice was amused. "That is why we haven't got any bower women in Winchester. Witgar and his men thought we were uncivilized. I had to send them into Venta. I thought I would have to take Crida into Venta too—"

  "What?"

  "The boy has to learn from someone, Niniane," her husband said practically.

  "They can learn together. We did."

  "I had somewhat of a head start." His voice was dry.

  There was a long silence. Then she said, "You are so good to me, Ceawlin." Her voice sounded perfectly serene. He smiled and touched her hair with his mouth.

  "I couldn't get from any other woman what I get from you," he said. "That is all."

  By the time they got back to Winchester, it had begun to rain. All of the children were gathered into the main room of the king's hall when Niniane and Ceawlin came in. Niniane sent for some food, and as she and Ceawlin ate, she listened to Ceawlin explaining to Crida the case he had decided today.

  "Why was Crida not there?" Niniane asked at last.

  Ceawlin shrugged. "The girl asked for as few people as possible. As if the whole of Wessex does not know her shame by now."

  "We need more land," said Crida.

  Niniane stiffened. "Nonsense. There is plenty of land in Wessex."

  Ceawlin gave his son a warning look. Then he said, "We should begin to invite Auda to spend her evenings in the king's hall. It must be boring for
the girl to be cooped up all the time with women."

  "What a good idea." Niniane gave Ceawlin a grateful look. She had not suggested such a thing herself because she knew how he was always trying to clear the children out of the hall.

  Crida too looked pleased. "She would learn to be less afraid of us that way. I will tell her, Father."

  * * * *

  The window in their sleeping room was open, letting the fresh scent of summer rain into the room. Niniane took off her clothes and lay down on the bed, stretching luxuriously. "This was a good day," she said to Ceawlin.

  "What can I do to make it better?" He sat down on the bed and, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders, leaned over her to look into her face. Her eyes were voluptuous. "It has been a long time," he said.

  She knew what he meant. They had made love, of course, since Cerdic's death, but there had been no joy in it for her. Tonight, for the first time since before, she wanted him. She ran her hands up and down his torso, reveling in the lean-muscled strength of him. "I'm too old to feel like this," she murmured.

  His teeth were very white against his tan. "Don't be absurd."

  "It's true. I look at Auda and I realize how old I am. My stomach is all stretched out from having babies, my breasts are beginning to sag ..."

  His eyes flicked up and down her naked body and a delicious shiver ran all through her. "True," he said. "I shall have to find myself a friedlehe."

  Her eyes narrowed. "I will kill her."

  He began to laugh. "You would kill me first," he said. "I know it."

  She stared up at him. His hair was hanging in his eyes. "I would torture you first."

  "Mmm." He stretched out beside her and without haste took her into his arms. "You are beautiful," he said. "And those are my babies you are complaining about."

  "You are the best husband in the world," she said.

  "I know," he answered, and began to kiss her.

  * * *

  PART III

  The Bretwalda

  (576-577)

  * * *

  Chapter 39

  This was not the first visit Coinmail had paid to Wales. During the last two years, since the death of his father-by-marriage had made him the undisputed chief of the Dobunni, he had been to Wales numerous times. The chiefs he was consulting with this day were two of the principal princes of Gwent: Condidan and Farinmail. Both had lands bordering on the Sabrina Sea, the ocean channel that separated Wales from Dumnonia. And both had previously proved receptive to Coinmail's warnings about the encroachment of Saxon Wessex into British territory.

  The three men were meeting at Caer, Farinmail's chief stronghold. Caer was a typical Welsh fort, a group of small stone halls, huts almost, surrounded by earth-and-timber ramparts. The king's hall in which they were meeting was perhaps sixty feet by thirty and had a hearthplace on the end wall. The three princes were alone, seated in a small semicircle of chairs in front of the hearth. No fire was burning; it was summer.

  Coinmail opened the conference. "Witgar is dead," he said. "Wight is now part of Wessex."

  There was a moment of silence. "Well, we knew it was going to happen," Condidan said. "It comes as no surprise."

  "It is an expansion to the south," Farinmail agreed. "I cannot like to see Ceawlin's influence grow, but Wight is far removed from us."

  Coinmail did not respond to these comments. Instead he said next, "I have just had word from Dumnonia. Do you know the villa of Dynas, to the east of Aquae Sulis?"

  The two Welsh princes sat straighter in their chairs. "Of course we know it," Condidan answered. For centuries Dynas had belonged to a Romano-Celtic prince of the Durotriges tribe. It stood in relation to Aquae Sulis much in the same way that Bryn Atha did to Calleva-Silchester. In the days of Roman rule the chief of Dynas had been a magistrate of the city. In the last two hundred years Dynas, like all the other Roman-built villas, had become virtually an island unto itself. But it was still a famous name. Not so famous as Avalon, perhaps, but more so than Bryn Atha.

  Condidan looked piercingly at Coinmail. The Welsh prince was a man of perhaps fifty, with graying brown hair and beard. The Welsh had never adopted the Roman custom of shaving. "What of Dynas?" he asked. "I thought Bevan was still prince there."

  "He is. But he has only one daughter; she will inherit Dynas when he dies. And he has betrothed the girl to a son of one of Ceawlin's eorls."

  There was a shocked silence. "How can this be?" Farinmail said at last. "Bevan is Christian."

  "Easily." Coinmail's voice was bitter. "Ceawlin's eorl Bertred is married to a Briton and their children were baptized. As were my sister's. Not that that means anything; they are all being reared as pagans. But the baptism makes the marriage possible."

  "I do not understand." Farinmail gripped the arms of his chair. "Why should Bevan do such a thing, put the property of Dynas into the hands of a Saxon?"

  "He thinks it is the best way to protect the property." Coinmail's lips were thin. "He is a fool."

  "With the annexation of Wight, Wessex will extend from the Narrow Sea to the Aildon hills." Condidan's bushy graying brows were drawn together. "And once Ceawlin gets a foothold in Dumnonia ..."

  "Wales will be next." Farinmail's thin dark face was grim.

  Condidan's frown deepened. "He has shown no signs of warlike intent."

  Coinmail answered. "He has not had to. Why fight when you can win bloodless victories by marriages? It is the same even among my own people. Marriages between the Dobunni who live near Ufton and the Atrebates are common. Ufton is directly on the Roman road to Corinium, Glevum, and Wales, and the Atrebates are Ceawlin's devoted subjects."

  There was a heavy silence as the two Welsh chiefs looked at the Atrebates prince who was now the leader of a different tribe. Coinmail was nearing forty, yet there was no gray in the burnished auburn hair he still wore clipped short in Roman style. His chiseled features were as sternly beautiful as in his youth. He was, if anything, more imposing and impressive than ever and, in pursuit of his life's mission, as inexorable as death.

  "Perhaps you should communicate with your sister," Condidan suggested at last. "Tell her of our concerns ..."

  Coinmail's lips tightened. "My sister has become a Saxon."

  "She is still a Christian, surely?"

  Coinmail shrugged. "What matter? She has borne Ceawlin six children. She has a stake in all these marriages as well. Niniane will do nothing for us, my lords. If we wish to stop Ceawlin, we must do it ourselves."

  * * * *

  Niniane and Auda sat together in the herb garden spinning wool. Fara, a small and agile three-year-old, chased a butterfly while Auda's infant son slept peacefully in the basket at his mother's feet.

  "Ceawlin insists that the thanes from Wight must come to Winchester to swear allegiance to him and to Crida," Niniane said with a sigh. "I must confess I tried to persuade him it would be easier for him to go to Wight, but he says no. I suppose he is right. He usually is." Niniane gave her daughter-by-marriage a rueful look. "Of course, I am the one who has the housing and feeding of them."

  Auda was amused. "You will manage, Mother. Like the king, you usually do."

  A little silence fell as the women peacefully spun their wool. The baby smacked his lips in his sleep and Auda began to laugh. "He is so greedy. Even in his sleep he thinks only of food."

  "He is a fine, healthy boy," said Niniane. "You and Crida have been blessed."

  "I know." Auda's voice was very soft. She turned to Niniane and smiled. "You have lived in Winchester for so long, Mother, that I don't think you realize how unusual life is here. There are none of the petty jealousies, the intrigues, the spites, that pervaded my grandfather's enclave in Wight. And I know from my sister Fritha, who is married into East Anglia, that it is the same there. But here ... all is peace."

  Niniane's skillful fingers continued to work even as her mind was busy elsewhere. East Anglia, she thought. No, from all reports they had received, things had been
far from peaceful in East Anglia these last few years. With the death of Guthfrid's brother and the accession of her brother's son, Redwold, to the kingship, Guthfrid had been pushed from her previous position of influence. She and her son had found themselves an embarrassment to the new king, a galling reminder of East Anglia's double defeats at the hands of Ceawlin of Wessex. But even in enforced retirement, Guthfrid had been a source of bitterness and discord at Sutton Hoo. She had, by all accounts, been a raving fury when Redwold had married his brother and not his cousin to Auda's sister, Fritha of Wight.

  Then word had come only last month that Guthfrid was dead. By poison, it was whispered; but then, poison was always whispered when royalty died of aught else besides battle wounds or childbirth.

  Guthfrid, the implacable enemy of all that Niniane loved, dead at last. Niniane still felt a flash of wickedly un-Christian pleasure when she thought of Guthfrid, safe at last in the earth.

  Guthfrid had sowed discord enough in Winchester in her time as well. But Niniane did not want to remind Auda of the intrigues that her own family had been so much a part of. Auda was extremely sensitive on that subject. So she turned now to her son's wife and said with a small laugh, "You would not be lauding the peace of Winchester if you had heard the fight I had to mediate this morning between the baker and the cook."

  Auda's face was grave. "I was not talking about the servants," she said.

  "I know." Niniane rested her hands in her lap and watched Fara fall into a patch of thyme. The little girl got up, unhurt, and continued her pursuit of the elusive butterfly. "There will never be peace in a household where two women vie for power," Niniane said at last, turning to Auda and raising her delicate brows a little. "Ceawlin grew up in the middle of the war that waged between his mother and Guthfrid. He learned his lesson well." Her eyebrows returned to their normal position and once more she began to spin her wool.

  "I see ..." Auda's voice was thoughtful.

  Niniane shot her a sideways look. "See what?"