To Love Again

by Bertrice Small

  "Do not leave me here alone," Nellwyn begged them. "I am afraid."

  "You and I will ride the mare together," Cailin reassured her servant. "The hall is uninhabitable, but soon we will repair it."

  They led the black mare into the hall, unhitched her from the cart and pushed the vehicle into a dark corner, where it was obscured from view even to someone entering the half ruin. Then the two women mounted the beast. Cailin rode in front, holding the reins, and Nellwyn behind her, clutching her mistress about her slender waist. Wulf led the mare from the building, and mounting his own animal, they headed off up the hills, across the meadows, and through the woods, to Berikos's Dobunni village.

  They knew immediately as they approached the hill fort that something was very wrong. There were no guards posted, and they were able to enter the village unimpeded. The place was deserted, and upon closer inspection, they could see it had been so for some time.

  "What has happened?" Cailin said, not just a little afraid.

  Wulf shook his head. "There were other villages, I know. Can you tell me where they were located, lambkin? The Dobunni cannot have simply disappeared from the face of the earth in the two and a half years that we were gone from Britain. They must be here somewhere."

  "There were other villages, but I never saw them," she said. "I spent my time here. I know, however, that these villages must be near, for Berikos's territory was not very large. Let us simply ride. We are bound to come upon someone."

  "I can think of no better plan," he said, and so they began to ride slowly to the northeast, seeking signs of life.

  At first the landscape appeared pristine, and empty, but eventually they began to see signs of habitation, cattle grazing, a flock of sheep in a meadow, and finally a shepherd, whom they hailed.

  "Is there a Dobunni village nearby, lad?" Wulf asked him.

  "Who be ye?" the shepherd asked, not answering their question.

  "I am Wulf Ironfist. This is my wife, Cailin Drusus, the granddaughter of Berikos, the niece of Eppilus, the cousin of Corio. We have been away for some time, and when we returned, we sought out the hill fort of Berikos, only to find it deserted. Where is everyone?"

  "You will find our village on the other side of the hill," the shepherd replied, again not answering the question asked. "Eppilus is there."

  They rode over the hill, and there, in a small, quiet valley, was the Dobunni village. Guards, strategically placed, watched silently as they passed by and into the center of the village. Wulf dismounted and lifted first his wife and then Nellwyn from the mare's back. They looked about, and when Cailin shrugged back her hood, revealing her face, a woman with two children clinging to her skirts gasped and cried out, "Cailin! Is it truly you? They said that you were dead!"

  "Nuala!" Cailin ran forward and embraced her cousin. "It is truly me, and I have come home. How is Bodvoc? And Ceara, and Maeve? And what of Berikos? Does the old devil still hold sway despite his illness, or has Eppilus truly become chief of the Dobunni?"

  "Bodvoc is dead," Nuala said softly. "He died in the plague epidemic last year that took so many of our people, Ceara, Maeve, and our grandfather among them. We lost almost all our old people, and many children. Corio survived, amazingly, and it never touched me or my children, despite Bodvoc's illness. These are my bairns. Commius, the boy, is the elder. 'Twas he I carried on my wedding day. The girl is Morna. Come, Eppilus will want to see you." She turned away from Cailin a moment and said, "Greetings, Wulf Ironfist."

  "Greetings, Nuala. I am sorry to hear of Bodvoc's death. He was a good man. But now I understand why you were not on the lands we gave you. A woman alone with two children could not manage such responsibility."

  "We barely had a chance to even settle on those lands, Wulf," she told him. "Antonia Porcius drove us away as soon as you left. She insisted that the Drusus Corinium lands were her late husband's, and now they were hers and her son's. Bodvoc felt we could not fight her."

  They followed Nuala into her father's hall. Eppilus, already aware of their arrival, came forward to greet the travelers. "It was told us that you died in childbirth, Cailin," he said, "and then Wulf Ironfist disappeared. What happened to you, my niece? Come, sit by the fire. Bring wine for our guests. Who is this pretty girl with you?" He peppered her with questions.

  "This is Nellwyn, Uncle," Cailin said, smiling. "She is my servant, and has traveled all the way from Byzantium with me, for that is where I was." Cailin then went on to narrate her adventures and Wulf's to her assembled kin and the others who had crowded into the hall.

  "Our hall has been partly burned," she concluded. "What happened while we were gone, and why is Berikos's hill fort deserted?"

  "So many in Berikos's village died of plague," Eppilus explained, "that it was not practical for us to remain there. Antonia Porcius has a new husband. He is neither Celt nor Romano-Briton. He is a Saxon, and his name is Ragnar Strongspear. There are many Saxons now entering this region to settle here. Even this village is no longer completely Dobunni. Saxons live among us, and are intermarrying with our children. Nuala has taken one for a new husband." He invited a pleasant-looking young blond man with mild blue eyes to step forward. "This is Winefrith, my son-in-law. I am happy to have him related to me. He is a good husband to my daughter, and a good father to my grandchildren."

  "I greet you, Winefrith, husband of Nuala," Wulf said.

  "I greet you, Wulf Ironfist," came the polite reply.

  "Tell me about this Ragnar Strongspear," Wulf Ironfist said to Eppilus, leaning forward, his interest apparent in his blue eyes. "What kind of a man is he?"

  "From what we have seen and learned," Eppilus said slowly, "he is a bully. He came swaggering across the land some months ago with a troup of bandits like himself. He slaughtered everything in his path, looting and burning as he went along. I expect that is when your hall was damaged. He stumbled upon Antonia's villa. He brought with him two wives, but he made Antonia his wife, too, though the gods know why. Antonia lives with the other women, her father, and the many children who always seem to be underfoot.

  "This Saxon is already consolidating his hold on the surrounding countryside, demanding fealty and heavy tribute. He has not yet found our village here in this valley, but we expect he soon will. We will be forced to accept him as our overlord if we are to survive. There is no other choice."

  "Aye, there is," Wulf Ironfist said. "You can accept me as your overlord, Eppilus. Nuala says the plague struck down the very old and the very young. That means that most of the men I trained several years ago are still alive. If they will give me their service, we will be able to overcome the threat of Ragnar Strongspear. You will be able to live in peace beneath my protection. We are kin, Eppilus, and I will not abuse those I am sworn to defend.

  "The times in which we now live are different than those we once knew. Your village, and the other nearby villages, need a strong man to protect them. You have a choice between either me or Ragnar Strongspear."

  "We would choose you, of course, Wulf Ironfist," Eppilus said. "We know you to be a fair and an honest man who will not mistreat us or our families. How can we help you?"

  "First I must speak with the men. They must quickly refamiliarize themselves with their fighting skills. Perhaps there are even some new men in this village who would join us."

  "I will," said Nuala's husband, Winefrith. "I am a smith, and can make and repair weapons for you. Whatever I can do to make the countryside safe from Ragnar Strongspear, I will do, Wulf Ironfist."

  "Good!" Wulf said, smiling at the young man. "Go and speak to the other Saxons who live in this village. Tell them it is not a matter of Saxon against Celt, but what is right against what is wrong."

  Winefrith nodded. "There is no friction between Saxon and Celt here," he said, and the others agreed. "We are simple people trying to live together in peace."

  "I will need the roof of my hall rethatched, and cannot do it alone," Wulf said, "and I must put a wall about it for better defens
e."

  "We can help," said Eppilus. "I will send to the other two villages left in the area for aid. It is unlikely that Ragnar Strongspear will know we are repairing the hall. He rarely goes there, for he is very superstitious, and believes the hall haunted by Cailin's family. I expect that Antonia told him of the land's history, and he drew his own conclusions."

  "If Antonia told him of the land's history, it was done deliberately and for a purpose," Cailin interjected. "I wonder why she did it?"

  They stayed the night in Eppilus's village. When the morning came, they were surprised to find that at least a hundred young men, some of whom they recognized and others they did not, had arrived. Wulf appointed both Corio and Winefrith his seconds-in-command. Those who had already had training in martial skills began to train those young men who had not. Another group of twenty men rode with Wulf, Cailin, and Nellwyn back to their hall. They carried with them enough thatch for the roof, and began work almost immediately. Eppilus had sent a wagonload of provisions along. Cailin and Nellwyn cooked simple meals that satisfied the workers before they fell asleep each night upon the floor in the hall. When they were not engaged over the cookfires, Cailin and her servant swept the dirt and the debris from the hall, along with a young fox vixen who had decided to make her den there, and a number of field mice who had attracted the fox in the first place. The furniture that was repairable was set aside.

  Each morning the work began anew, until several days later the hall was reroofed. Winefrith arrived with Nuala and began to repair the furniture that had been smashed.

  Cailin sat outside the hall on a bench with her cousin. "Your father likes your new husband, and he seems a fair man," she remarked.

  "He is not Bodvoc," Nuala admitted, "but then there will never be another like Bodvoc. Winefrith loves me totally, and he is so good. If there is no longer excitement in my life, at least I am not unhappy, Cailin. Do you remember the old fortune-teller at the Beltane fair back long ago who said I would have two husbands and many children? Well, she was right. Bodvoc and I spawned two bairns before he died." Her hand went protectively to her belly. "Winefrith and I married last December at the solstice. I am already well gone with our first child."

  "You are fortunate," Cailin told her. "I do not know what happened to the child I bore Wulf before I was kidnapped into slavery. I do not even know if it was a son or a daughter."

  "You will have others," Nuala said reassuringly.

  "Not unless Wulf and I can find some privacy," Cailin admitted with a wry smile. "Our reunion was so swift, and then we escaped Byzantium. We sailed for forty days upon a tiny trading vessel, with no possible opportunity to be alone. Then we traveled through Gaul with Nellwyn always by our side, and all those merchants with us. It has been the three of us on the road here in Britain until we reached home. We have been so busy repairing the damaged caused by that damned Ragnar… There is just no time for us, Nuala! I know that there will be, but when? As for the child lost to us, if it lives, we want it. It is our flesh, and has a heritage to be proud of that we would share."

  "I can understand exactly how you feel," Nuala replied. "I love little Commius and Morna dearly. If they were stolen from me, I should want to get them back. I would not just let them go."

  "Who is that on the hillside?" Cailin suddenly asked her cousin.

  Nuala looked hard, then said, "I do not know, but it could be one of Ragnar's men. Yes, I think it may be, for he is turning away and riding off. We had best tell your husband."

  Wulf and the others were just refitting new oak doors to the hall when Cailin and Nuala told him of the horseman on the hillside.

  "Since we have not yet had time to build the wall, it is good we can at least close off the hall," Wulf said grimly. He turned to Winefrith. "What do you think? Will he come with a large armed party?"

  "This man was probably out hunting and just rode past by chance," Winefrith said. "There are enough of us here to make it a standoff for now, I think, my lord. I will warn the men to be on their guard until we see what is to happen. Nuala, go into the hall. I do not want you outside should there be any kind of attack."

  "He called you 'my lord,' " Cailin said in a low tone to her husband after Nuala had obeyed her husband's order.

  "Several of the men are beginning to do so," Wulf said. "It is only natural. I am their leader, lambkin. I intend to be overlord of these lands, and all the lands to the north and east encompassing the Dobunni territory that once was, if I can hold them. I have the right to do it. The first challenge I face is Ragnar Strongspear. He may have the territory to the south and west, if he chooses, but these lands are mine, and I will fight for them."

  "I will be by your side, my lord husband," Cailin said quietly.

  He put an arm about her shoulder. "We will survive this new age, lambkin, and we will leave a great holding for our sons and our daughters. We will not be moved from our lands again."

  "And we will make Antonia Porcius tell us what happened to our child. I did not deliver a son so large that I was torn apart. There is something I am striving to remember about those last moments, Wulf. I distinctly recall hearing the cry of a healthy infant, but there is something more, if I could but remember it. I know our child is alive!"

  "If he is, lambkin, we will find him," Wulf said.

  There appeared on the crest of the hill a party of some ten horsemen who began their descent. They were led by a large helmeted man who carried a long spear.

  "I remain by your side," Cailin said, forestalling her husband's objection. "I run from no man, and especially not on our own lands."

  He said nothing, but he was proud to have her for a wife. She was a strong woman to have survived slavery, and if they could ever find a moment to be together again, they would make strong sons.

  The horsemen rode relentlessly onward. Ragnar Strongspear observed the silent couple as he came. The man was a warrior, he was certain, no Saxon farmer to be easily frightened off. The woman was beautiful, but she was not a Saxon woman. A Briton most likely, and a proud wench to boot. She stood unafraid by her man's side, an almost defiant stance to her body. It was a body, he thought, he could enjoy becoming familiar with, and from the look of her, she was a woman who had both met and enjoyed passion.

  As the horsemen drew to a halt before Wulf and Cailin, their helmeted leader said in a deep, hard voice, "You are trespassing here."

  "Are you the savage who tried to burn my hall?" Wulf demanded coolly in reply. "If you are, then you owe me a forfeit, and I'll have it now."

  It was hardly the answer Ragnar Strongspear was expecting. He glared at his antagonist and snarled fiercely, "Who are you?"

  "I am Wulf Ironfist, and this is my wife, Cailin Drusus. Who are you, and what do yo.u do here on my lands?"

  "I am Ragnar Strongspear, and these are my lands," was the reply. "I hold them for one of my wives, Antonia Porcius."

  "These lands do not belong to Antonia Porcius," Wulf answered, "and they never did, Ragnar Strongspear. You have been misled if she told you so. These lands are the hereditary holdings of the Drusus Corinium family. My wife Cailin is the sole surviving member of that family. These are her lands. I hold them for her. We have been away in Byzantium, and I return to find my hall half destroyed, my belongings either stolen or ravaged, and my slaves disappeared. This is your doing, I assume, or am I mistaken?" Wulf finished, looking hard at the man.

  "Do you expect me to just take your word for such a claim?" Ragnar Strongspear said angrily. "I am not a fool. Why should I believe you?"

  "Does old Anthony Porcius still live?" Wulf asked.

  "Aye, he has a place in my hall," Ragnar Strongspear said.

  "And are his wits still with him?"

  "Aye, they are. Why do you ask, Wulf Ironfist?"

  "Because he can attest to the truth of my words, Ragnar Strongspear. I will come with you now. You will see I speak the truth."

  "Very well, I am as eager as you to settle this matter," was the surly reply
.

  Ragnar Strongspear took in all that had been done to restore the hall. He was impressed by what he saw. He knew in his heart that Wulf Ironfist had not invested his time and effort for naught. He did not appear to be the sort of man who took foolish chances, and the fact that he knew Anthony Porcius by name led Ragnar to believe the warrior spoke the truth. Why had Antonia lied to him?

  Wulf and Cailin reappeared now on horseback, surrounded by a group of a dozen armed men. "You will not mind that we are escorted," Wulf said with a straight face. "I cannot know what we may encounter."

  Ragnar Strongspear nodded. "You do not offend me, but you have my word, Wulf Ironfist, that no harm will come to you from me or from mine this day. I am an honorable man. Let us go." He turned his horse and moved off with his small party of retainers in his wake. As they rode, Ragnar wondered what else Antonia had told him that wasn't true. He had stormed across her lands well over a year ago. Finding her unprotected, he had claimed both the woman and her property for his own. He had two other wives, Harimann and Perahta, Saxons both. They were devoted to him, and hardworking. Each had given him two children, a son and a daughter apiece. Antonia had two children as well, a boy and a girl. She hadn't wanted to become his wife, but he had raped her before her father and servants in the atrium of her villa, making her further refusal impossible.

  She was an odd woman, given to airs, and other than her lands, she had no value he could see, but for one thing: He had never in his life had such an avaricious, hot bedmate. Whereas Harimann and Perahta were complaisant, Antonia was eager, and had the instincts of a skilled whore. He tolerated her for that alone. Now, however, he was beginning to wonder if he had not made a bad bargain of it after all. Were her abilities in their bed worth the trouble she was obviously about to cause him?

  Where Antonia's villa had once stood in its pristine glory, there were now ruins. Nearby, a new hall had been raised. About it was a wall of stone. They entered through a pair of open gates, the doors of which had been fashioned from the old bronze doors of the villa.