The Handfasted Wife Read online

  Connor of Meath took her out riding along the sands south of Dublinia, arriving with grooms to tend his horse and servants to accompany them. He brought her small gifts: jars of honey, candles scented with wild roses from the hedgerow. She wondered if the Earl was wooing her, though he never pushed his suit upon her. She hoped that they were friends and she looked forward to their rides. Was Connor of Meath the suitor King Dairmaid intended for her? Because, if so, he was mistaken. She would not marry Earl Connor.

  One day Earl Connor found her alone in the church. He leaned down behind her and softly touched the fabric where her veil fell onto her shoulder. She knew that touch. He had often lifted her onto her horse. But when he whispered, ‘My lady,’ he made her jump. ‘My lady, a fleet of ships have docked at Wood Quay. I thought you might need things for your hall. We can look, if you care to.’

  Elditha pretended to continue her contemplation for a moment. Really, she was wondering whether she would go into the market with him. And then she looked up at him, smiling. ‘A moment, my lord, I shall fetch a purse.’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘Wait in the yard for me.’ It occurred to her that it was in similar circumstances that she had encountered him in Canterbury just over a year ago. Who could have foreseen this day then?

  When she came into her courtyard, Earl Connor was making himself useful, directing the boy who chopped wood to stack it. Two dairy maids passed close to the Earl, carrying jugs of cream, simpering with blushes on their faces. He had not noticed them, nor had he heard them giggling, but the girls were her servants and they were bold. She glared at them and they hurried on. She would speak to them later about being demure. He looked up. ‘Ah, are you ready? I was helping the boy here. Go on, give it a crack.’ The boy split the wood perfectly.

  She said, pointing to the lads who followed her, ‘They will carry for me today. I hope the merchants down on the quays sell quality wool. We need wool for the weaving shed I have set up here.’

  He laughed at her. ‘Ah, so you are not in need of me now. I had better split wood then.’

  ‘I do need …’ Was she blushing? And he was laughing at her as if she were a girl of 15 and not a woman of past 30. She added primly, ‘I need the wool, and more help than those two can give if I am to find stuff of quality.’

  ‘Aye? And you think I can tell the quality of fleece better than the bower women?’

  ‘Earl Connor, I would appreciate your help.’

  ‘Then I give it gladly.’

  As they picked their way through the squawking geese and snorting pigs that were crowding the muddy lanes, her boys swung large reed baskets that smelled of the river and dashed ahead, calling out at people to clear their beasts because Lady Elditha needed space to walk. Soon they had passed through Fishshamble Alley, the last of the narrow thoroughfares, but one that reeked of fish barrels. Finally, they reached the quays. Here traders had set up temporary stalls and Elditha forgot her quest for wool when she discovered that they sold saffron, cinnamon and cardamom, all of which she purchased for her kitchen.

  As she wandered about with the Earl and her two boys, she took a child-like pleasure in the cages of pet birds, larks and blackbirds. There was even a nightingale which could sing. She parted with a precious gold coin and asked its keeper to bring it to the hall. Followed by the boys and protected by Earl Connor she moved easily from stall to stall, filling her baskets with distaffs and spindles, carding combs, bone needles so fine that she knew they would slide through the most delicate linen. She examined cloth smoothers of good glass and bought two of them. She discovered a trader with spatulas and cups decorated with intricate animal carvings. Tempted by a long spoon with owl decorations on the handle, she bought it.

  As they walked, she felt Connor moving close behind her, ready to drop her purchases into her baskets, stopping by her side to watch her turn objects over and examine them. He found wool for her and she ordered a sack of it for her looms. It was of good quality. He knew the value of domestic things, which made her speculate if he had ever had a wife. She discovered combs intricately carved from antler bone alongside a tray of amber pendants. Then he left her to look through them saying that he must seek a gift, and she wondered who for.

  When she caught up with him later, he reached into a tray of silver and lifted out a finger-ring, set with a small amber stone. To her amazement, he slipped his arm around her waist. ‘You have lost everything, Elditha, and yet you never complain of it. This ring is for you. It will only fit the tiniest of fingers.’ Before she could move his arm, he had already removed it and had lifted her hand and slid the ring on her little finger. It fitted perfectly.

  As she held her hand out she felt the comfortable warmth of his arm about her waist again. Flustering about for words, she said, ‘But I may lose everything again, all these things, combs, spatulas, my spices. Do not give me this gift. It is much too valuable.’

  ‘Yes, you may lose all again, and if it is so, that is your wyrd, your fate, Elditha, but today you must have the pleasure of them, even if only for a while. For the moment, I too am fortunate. I have the pleasure of your company.’ His voice was quiet. ‘Yet, if you do lose all other things, please do remember to keep my ring safe.’

  She held her hand out again to admire it, silver engraved with tiny leaves. It would be unkind to refuse his gift, but how could she explain if others noticed it?

  Sensing her thoughts, he removed his arm saying, ‘My Lady Elditha, it is not unusual for us to give gifts. No one will think anything of it, not even of a finger-ring, for we are a generous people.’

  ‘But a ring has significance.’

  ‘A finger-ring is not uncommon between friends here in Dublinia,’ he said smiling. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘You are my friend, though I must admit that I have wished ever since I first saw you in Canterbury that we could be more to each other.’

  ‘But that is …’

  ‘Not possible. Yet I wanted to tell you anyway. If ever you need my help send for me and I promise that I shall come to you.’

  She thought, I am admired and befriended. Maybe, even, I am loved and I am glad of it too, but I must never, never give this man any false hope.

  ‘Come, not so thoughtful. Let us enjoy the day,’ he said quickly and guided her away from the crowd that had gathered about the stalls.

  ‘How can I ever thank you for your care of me?’

  ‘Your smile is enough,’ he replied. ‘Now, I believe that there is a magician on the quay who can escape from rope bindings and a Spaniard juggler who plays with pigs’ bladders.’ The mood had changed again. Once again simply good friends, they stood and watched and laughed together. The boys hovered close. She bought them sweetmeats, which they devoured greedily as they watched the juggler perform his tricks. When it was over, Earl Connor gave him a penny as a reward for his act. ‘Elditha,’ Earl Connor was saying, ‘come and look at the snake charmer.’ And so the day continued until, exhausted, they climbed the hill again and he climbed on his horse and rode back past Christ’s Church and through the apple orchards to the King’s palace.

  Some evenings later Connor and her sons sat with her at supper. He noticed that she had removed his ring and said, ‘What has happened to that ring?’

  ‘My lord, I should not wear it.’

  He lifted her hand, turned it over and kissed her palm. His kiss was light and quick, but it left an imprint on her hand. ‘It is a ring of friendship. That is all.’

  ‘Earl Connor,’ she said, ‘why are you not wed?’

  ‘I had a wife for whom I cared very much. She died in childbirth. Now, I have a memory of my wife, an eight-year-old girl who is cast in her image and whose name is Aisling, a small song.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘She is in the west with my mother.’ He accepted the horn beaker of beer from Olga. The girl poured a small glass of honey wine for Elditha and continued on down the table. Elditha thought that the girl’s limp was hardly noticeable now. She seemed
happier too.

  ‘I am sorry for the mother’s death,’ Elditha said aloud.

  ‘She is with God’s angels.’ He was flushed from the strong beer he had drunk, but his voice was steady and, as he spoke, she could feel his breath touch her cheek. It was not an unpleasant sensation.

  She busied herself with her spoon and chopped at the fish on her plate. ‘I will keep your token safe always,’ she heard herself say to him so quietly none could overhear. ‘Earl Connor, you honour me and mine.’ She hesitated, and then broached a difficult subject of ship armies. ‘I have a request.’

  He looked at her with concern, as if he had guessed what she might say to him.

  ‘My sons seek help from their uncle in Denmark. They need ships so that they can reclaim their kingdom.’

  ‘I thought that would be so, and who can fault them. It will be a difficult task. King Swegne will have his own reasons, if he gives them to you. If an invasion were successful he would want part of the kingdom.’

  ‘They all have greed in their hearts, but they are our kin, and of our own mind and Gytha is Swegne’s aunt. We must try.’

  ‘Then I shall advise the boys and help them in any way that is possible. I shall ask King Dairmaid for support. If the Danish King is willing to help, he will not refuse, but I think, Elditha, this will mean that Godwin must sail to Denmark himself. The Sea Serpent will return in a few weeks and we can sail on it before harvest.’

  After supper Elditha retired to her chamber behind the hall. Before she lay down to sleep, she lifted her bone-plated box from the clothes chest. She laid her treasures out on the table. A midsummer moon slid through the opened shutters, casting a pool of light on the small, creamy christening robe. As she placed the silver ring into the box with her treasures, she touched the little garment and unfolded it. She thought again how it had once clothed a tiny child whose life had slipped away as effortlessly as the sand slides through an hour glass, and she thought sadly of how once she had lost another before it had quickened in her womb.

  An owl hooted and farther off the tapping of a woodpecker echoed through the orchards. The Christ Church bells began to ring for Matins. She put the box away and climbed into her bed. Covered by a thin blanket she fell into a doze. Soon she was flying over a burning town on the back of a swan. As she looked down, she saw children and mothers crying. The swan swooped closer and she realised that the town she saw was Exeter, the palace and the cathedral and houses engulfed by flames. She awoke in a sweat and could not find sleep again. She lay brooding until the morning bells rang. No matter how she busied herself, instructing her servants with their daily tasks, a sense of terror remained with her. She could not dismiss the thought that Thea might face danger.

  32

  September 1067

  When unable to rest at night Elditha finally confided her concern to Earl Connor after he remarked on the deep shadows below her eyes. ‘It may have just been a nightmare brought on by anxiety for her. It may be nothing.’

  ‘We shall put your fears to rest then,’ he said, taking her hands in his own.

  ‘I think about Padar too,’ she said. ‘I worry that he never escaped from Beorhtric’s men or that Count Alain had him put to death.’ She shuddered. ‘He would have died for my sake.’

  ‘Do not think that way. I shall try to find out.’

  Earl Connor sent a messenger across the sea in a trading vessel that took silver to the forges in Cornwall. She began to sleep soundly again and the nightmare never returned, but she still worried. After a month the messenger returned. He told her that there was no immediate danger to the town. He said that he had asked after the skald called Padar, but there was no news of him; nothing. Summer passed and then it was harvest time again and, when winter came, the sailing season would be over. King Dairmaid promised that if the Godwin sons procured a Danish fleet from their uncle, he would contribute ships of his own – any he could spare. Almost a year to the day after the great Battle near Hastings, Earl Connor, Godwin and Edmund sailed off on the Sea Serpent for Denmark, leaving Magnus with Elditha, promising to return with a ship army.

  Before they departed Connor sent Elditha another gift, one which he said had come to Ireland with his seal skins from Iceland. Elditha sighed, and glanced down at the ring that she was wearing again to please him. His gift was a harp. ‘This is beyond kindness.’ She fingered the wood and admired the carvings of leaf and berries on its burnished frame and then twiddled with the strings and coaxed them into tune. It became her solace as the evenings dropped earlier and earlier. Throughout the time of harvests and falling leaves, her hall was filled with the sound of her playing and singing.

  In early December her prayers were answered and one of her deepest anxieties was removed. Padar sailed into Dublinia on a trading vessel. She embraced him and ushered him into the warmth of the hall. ‘Thank God and all his Holy Saints. Padar, thank Heaven for you.’ She hugged him. ‘Thank God you are safe.’ Immediately he seemed comfortable in her Viking house. It felt to her as if he had not even been gone.

  He told her that the silvatii had attacked Beorhtric’s guard as the traitors rode with him tied and bound on a sorry nag towards London. ‘Unfortunately, Wadard managed to escape. More is the pity. He promised me a dire death when we reached London. Castration was mentioned.’

  ‘But you have lived to tell the tale. I had faith that you would. So, where have you been since?’

  He had returned to Winchester and after that had made his way west to Wales before crossing the sea. What he said next caused her to shudder despite her heavy, fur-lined winter mantle. ‘I have heard that all is not well for Exeter. The Bastard is moving troops south and west. He is destroying any village or town that refuses to recognise his authority. Since there is a price on my neck anyway, here I am.’ He supped his ale noisily. ‘I missed the Great Battle but this one I shall fight. I want revenge on the scum.’

  ‘My sons and Earl Connor are in Denmark raising a ship army.’

  ‘I can wait.’

  ‘Padar, how safe is my daughter?’

  ‘William will not attack the town if they pay a tax. It is winter and in winter armies do not march unless they have to.’

  ‘So for now we must wait and see.’ She proffered a dish of cakes. ‘I baked them myself.’

  He munched thoughtfully before saying, ‘They taste good, my lady.’ He ate each small cake in two bites and looked around. ‘You have a fine hall. It’s busy too.’

  ‘The hall here is almost as pleasant as Reredfelle,’ she said smiling.

  He touched the cushions on the bench. ‘Linen covers, interesting embroidery.’ He relaxed back into them and stretched out his legs. ‘And what does the King of Dublinia want of you in return?’

  ‘I do not know if he wants anything, Padar. My sons are his sworn men. Harold sent a great inheritance here to Ireland with them. It keeps us here. But I worry that King Dairmaid may try to marry me off.’

  ‘And?’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘There must be one earl you like.’

  ‘I do not want another marriage.’ She lifted the jug of honeyed drink and refilled his cup. ‘But it is good to see you here. Like a cat, you have many lives. It will be Christmas soon; would you be our storyteller – at the feasts?’

  He guffawed. ‘I suppose I could be persuaded.’

  ‘And by the by, Padar, do not quarrel with the King’s servants here; do not compete with his skalds. Remember that we are the King’s guests.’

  ‘My lady, I see. But where can I keep my pack and rest my bones?’

  ‘There’s a free sleeping place over there.’ She pointed to a corner opposite, tucked between two pillars. It contained a bench covered with sheepskin and a shuttered window behind. ‘It has been waiting for you, Padar.’ She smiled, reached out and touched his hand. ‘And later, when you have rested, we must talk.’ She called Olga from her distaff. ‘This is Olga.’ She lifted the plate and gave it to the girl. ‘The cakes are all finished. See that my s
kald has bread and cheese and a pasty to eat.’ To her amusement Padar winked at Olga and promised to sing for her later, a poem he would compose especially for her.

  * * *

  The next morning Elditha walked along Wood Quay with Padar, through groups of merchants and past warehouses that held bales of raw linen ready for dyeing, and barrels of French wine waiting for sale. The harbour teemed with river traffic. Bright banners flapped in the breeze. Colourful figureheads depicted a collection of strange beasts that belonged to bestiaries or in Padar’s tales. They paused by a pile of fishing nets and watched the coracles navigate the busy waters and the loading and unloading of cargoes onto them. Padar caught sight of a new ship sailing into the harbour. It was bigger than the others. Dark figures were climbing into a coracle.

  ‘Padar, where is it from?’

  ‘Not from Denmark, unless they are sending us women,’ he said, with his hand shading his forehead from the harsh sinking evening sun, ‘bundles in dark cloaks.’ He jumped up with a suddenness that made Elditha almost slip down the bank. ‘Look, another ship and surely one that sails around the world’s rim. See the sails. They bear a crescent; and look at the shape. It is more bulky than the other and squat.’ He smiled up at her. ‘There will be a goodly feast this Christmas. That vessel will carry a spice cargo.’

  Later, the King sent a messenger for Elditha. She crossed the apple orchard accompanied by servants with torches to light her way. When she was seated comfortably by the hearth in the great hall, the King said, ‘There are two letters for you from Exeter.’