To Love Again

Chapter 15

It took forty days to sail from Byzantium to the city of Massilia in Gaul. The trading vessel exited through the Hellespont and crossed the Mare Thracium past mighty Mount Athos, and on into the Aegean Sea, wending its way along the Greek coast past Delos and the Cyclades. As they reached Meth-one, the captain came to Cailin and Wulf and said, "Master Jovian wanted you to have this choice. I can either sail north along the Greek coast, and then cross over to Italia at the narrowest point separating the two, or we can sail straight across the Ionian Sea to Sicilia in half the time. The weather is good, and will continue to hold, but we would be out of sight of land for several days. Storms are known to arise suddenly, and you are not sailors; but even should a storm come up, I will get you safely to Massilia." He smiled, explaining, "I get a percentage of the cargo profits."

"Sail straight for Sicilia," Wulf said, making the decision for them. "We are anxious to reach Britain before spring."

For almost seven days they did not see land, but finally the toe of Italia's boot and Sicilia with its rugged mountains rose up on their horizon to their right and left. The ship negotiated the Straits of Messina in the Tyrrhenian Sea. They stopped several times to refill their water barrels, but the ship's captain preferred to anchor along deserted stretches of coast to avoid paying port taxes when all he needed was water.

"The customs men are all thieves. They always claim to have found contraband upon your vessel, particularly if you are just passing through. Then they confiscate the cargo. It's just plain stealing!" he finished indignantly.

They cruised along Italia's coast past Tempsa, Neapolis, Ostia, Pisae, and Genna. At last they had almost reached their destination, and Cailin was vastly relieved. She wanted a bath, and there were certain to be public baths in Massilia.

On their first day aboard she had gone through the clothing that Casia had packed for her, and to her surprise found two small bags of coins. One held twenty gold solidi, and the other was crammed with copper folles. She showed Wulf, and he nodded silently.

"There is a loose board beneath my pallet," she told him softly. "I will hide our hoard beneath it, but there must always be someone in the cabin so that we are not robbed. This, and my jewelry, is all we have to make our way with once we arrive at Massilia, and when we reach home we may need what remains to start again. I trust the captain, but the two mates are another thing. I do not like the way they eye Nellwyn."

"Nellwyn is a foolish little rabbit," he replied. "If she is not careful, she will be eaten by dogs. She is your slave. Speak to her. It is not my place to do so."

"Why are you so irritable?" she asked him. "You are like an old cat with a stiff paw. Are you not happy we have been reunited?"

"I cannot believe our good fortune," he said honestly. "I thought you dead, and then found you alive. You chose to return to Britain with me over marrying a wealthy and powerful man. But we have not been alone since we found each other, and we are not likely to be for months! You are beautiful, Cailin, my wife, and I desire you!"

"You will have to learn patience," she said serenely, then giggled mischievously, "and so will I, Wulf Ironfist!"

When they finally docked at Massilia, the captain was thoughtful enough to tell them that parties of merchants traveled up the Roman roads of Gaul toward the coast facing Britain on a regular basis. Wulf would find the respectable travelers at an inn called the Golden Arrow. "You don't want to try to go it alone, sir. Too many bandits, and you've got the women to consider. A big, strong fellow like you will be welcome in any party. If the women are willing to help with the chores, so much the better."

Wulf thanked the captain for his advice, and their bags of coins and Cailin's jewels safely hidden, the trio departed the ship. Both Cailin and Nellwyn were plainly garbed, and their hoods were pulled well up over their heads. They kept their eyes modestly lowered, following Wulf Ironfist as they made their way through the bustling port's streets to the inn where Wulf inquired about caravans departing for the northern coast of Gaul.

"There are several leaving in a day or two, sir," the innkeeper replied. "How far are you going? Will it just be yourself?"

"We need to get to Gesoriacum," Wulf told him, "and my wife and her servant will be going with me. We have come from Byzantium."

"And are going to Britain, I'll wager," the innkeeper said.

Wulf nodded. "I'm a big fellow, as you can see," he told the innkeeper, "and I have served my time in the legions. I'm a good swordsman, and my wife and servant can cook. We'll be no liabil-ity."

"Can you pay?" the innkeeper asked. They didn't look like beggers, but still, one could never tell in these days.

"It must be reasonable," Wulf said slowly. "We've not a great deal left. Our passage from Byzantium was dear. Will not our service be enough? But then if we must pay, I'll expect to receive our food in exchange."

"You're in luck," the innkeeper told him. "There's a large caravan of merchants leaving tomorrow that will go all the way to Gesoriacum. Some of the party will stop at other towns along the way, but the main caravan is going to the northern coast. I know the caravan master. He is the big red-haired fellow drinking in my courtyard right now. He can always use an extra man. Tell him that Paulus recommends you. You must do your own bargaining."

"I thank you, sir," Wulf said. "Can you rent me a room for myself and my wife and servant for tonight? And we need to be directed to the public baths. Then I must buy horses for our journey."

"I have no private rooms, but your women can have pallets in the loft with others of their sex. You will have to sleep down here like all the men do who stop at the Golden Arrow," the innkeeper said.

While Cailin and Nellwyn bathed, Wulf went to the market and purchased two horses for them. One was a fine, strong chestnut-colored gelding, and the other a sturdy black mare strong enough to carry both women upon her back, should it be necessary. He returned to the bathhouse where Cailin and Nellwyn were waiting for him. Their precious hoard and the horses remained in their charge while Wulf washed the forty days at sea from his skin. Then they made their way back to the inn, where Wulf introduced himself to the caravan master, who was named Garhard. The bargain was soon struck between the two men, for Garhard was a man who made quick decisions. Their places would cost them two folles apiece. Wulf would help to protect the caravan, and the two women would be expected to help with the meals. In exchange they would travel in safety and be allowed to eat from the common pot.

"If you want wine, bring it," Garhard said. "You supply your own plates and spoons. I don't want your women whoring for extra coins. It causes too much trouble among the men."

"The women are my wife and her servant," Wulf said quietly. "They do not whore, and if your men look at them askance, or speak to them with disrespect, they will have me to deal with."

"Understood," Garhard replied. "We leave at dawn."

They hurried back to the market, where Cailin purchased newly made wood plates and spoons for them, and a single goblet that they would all share. She found a woman selling freshly stuffed pallets, and bought three along with some blankets.

"We should have a cart," she told her husband. "The mare can pull it, and it will hold our worldly goods. We cannot carry it all. You are used to sleeping upon the ground, but Nellwyn and I are not. And we will need water bags, and a brazier, and charcoal. It is almost winter, Wulf, and the farther north we go, the greater chance there is of snow. A cart will offer us some protection from bad weather and wild animals."

He laughed. "You have been living like a young queen in Byzantium. I would have thought you had forgotten such practical matters, but I see you have not. Come, let us purchase what you think we need."

They left just before dawn the next morning. The two women drove the little cart with its cloth-covered sides and roof. They had carefully packed all their possessions inside, along with extra provisions to supplement the communal pot. The water bags hung from the cart.

The caravan traveled the Roman roads up the spine of Gaul through Arelate, Lugudunum, Augustodunum, and Agedincum, to Durocortorum. They then took the road that turned slightly more north, moving on through Samarobriva, and finally arriving at Gesoriacum, an ancient naval port. It had taken them many weeks to reach their destination. It was already mid-February.

They arranged their next passage with a coastal trader. He would take them across the thirty miles of sea separating Gaul and Britain to the port of Dubris. As the sun rose over Gaul, which now lay behind them, they made landfall in Britain on the morning of February twentieth.

Cailin wept unashamedly. "I did not think I should ever see my native land again," she said, sobbing, as Wulf comforted her.

"We have been traveling for over four months," he said. "Would you not like to rest for a few days now that we are back in Britain?"

Cailin shook her head. "No! I want to go home."

The cart lumbered its way up to Londinium. Cailin looked about her, remembering little of her last visit. Once this place would have awed her, but now it looked insignificant when compared to Constantinople. She was happy to take Stane Street west to Corinium.

When they reached that town of her family's origin, Cailin was shocked. The once thriving Corinium was almost silent, and deserted. Rubbish littered the streets. The buildings were in poor repair. In the amphitheater there were weeds growing between the stone seats, which were cracked and broken. Many houses were locked and empty. It was not as she remembered it.

"What has happened?" she asked Wulf.

He shook his head. "I do not know, except perhaps without a central government, the town cannot maintain itself. Look about you. Most whom we see in the streets are elderly. They stay, obviously, because there is nowhere else for them to go. The market thrives, however. It seems to be the only thing that does."

"But it is mostly foodstuffs," she noted. "There are few other goods for sale. What has happened to trade? And the pottery works?"

"People must eat," he said. "As for the rest, I do not know." He shrugged. "Come, lambkin, we have two more days of traveling before we reach our lands. Let us not dally. We will have Antonia Porcius to contend with, I am certain. She has undoubtedly annexed our lands for herself once more. At least we will know better than to trust her this time. And your Dobunni family will rejoice to learn you are alive."

Their cart moved up the Fosse Way until finally they turned off on a barely discernible tract. It was raining when they made camp that night. They huddled within the cart, listening to the rain on its canvas roof, the small space nicely warmed, as it had all winter long, by the little brazier Cailin had insisted upon. They had seen virtually no one since leaving Corinium, but Wulf insisted on their keeping watch nonetheless.

"We can't afford to lose everything now," he said. "We'll move out before dawn. With any luck, we should reach our hall by mid-afternoon."

It rained again the next day, and huddled upon the bench in the cart, driving the black mare, Cailin realized she had forgotten how damp and chilly an English spring could be. She almost missed the constantly sunny days she had enjoyed in Byzantium, but still she was content to be home, she decided, shivering. Around her the land was familiar once again. Suddenly they topped a hillock and, stopping, Cailin looked down upon her family's lands for the first time in almost three years.

Wulf swore volubly. "The hall is burned!" he said. "Damn Antonia for an interfering bitch! She'll pay for it, I vow!"

"Why did Bodvoc not stop her, I wonder?" Cailin asked.

"I do not know, but I will soon find out. We will have to begin from the beginning once more, lambkin. I am sorry."

"It is not your fault, Wulf," Cailin soothed him. "We will survive this as we have survived all the rest of our dark destiny."

As they made their way down the hillside, Cailin noticed that the fields lay fallow and the orchards were not pruned. What had happened here? She brought her cart to a halt before what had been their little hall. The damage, to her great relief, did not look as bad now that they could see it close up, as it had appeared from the hillside. Their thatched roof had indeed been burned, but as they walked about, Cailin and Wulf could see the heavy beams of the roof were just scorched. The fire pits were intact, and some of their furnishings, battered but repairable, were still there. Much was gone, however, including the heavy oaken doors of the hall. Still, with a new roof they could salvage it.

"We'll have to thatch the roof first," he said.

"We cannot do it ourselves," Cailin answered him. "Where are our slaves and farm workers?" She sighed. "You know the answer to that as well as I do. We will have to go to her and retake our property. Then, too, there is the matter of our child. Antonia is the only one who has the answer to that puzzle, and I will pry it out of her."

"Let us go to the Dobunni first," Wulf suggested. "They will know what has happened. I think we are wiser learning that before we beard Antonia Porcius over these matters. She has obviously driven Bodvoc and Nuala off, or they would have protected our holding."

"Let us bring the cart into the hall," Cailin said. "Then we can take the horses to my grandfather's village. Should anyone pass by, it will seem as if nothing is different here as long as the cart is hidden."

"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 defense."

"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.

"Your men are welcome in my hall," Ragnar Strongspear said.

"You have given me your pledge for our safety," Wulf replied. "I will leave them outside but for two to show my good faith. Corio, and Winefrith, you will come with us."

"Yes, my lord!" the two men chorused almost as one, and Ragnar Strongspear was further impressed. Wulf's men were all obviously quite loyal, and not only were there Saxons among them, but Celts as well.

They entered a large aisled hall. There were several fire pits, but the ventilation was poor and it was slightly smoky. Two large, handsome women with long blond braids, little children about their feet, sat weaving and talking together.

"Antonia! Come to me at once!" Ragnar Strongspear called loudly.

"I am here, my lord," came the reply, and she glided forward, a false smile of welcome upon her face. She hated him and everything he stood for.

"Do you know these people, Antonia?" he demanded of her.

Antonia's eyes swung first to Cailin and then to Wulf. Her hand flew to her breast and she paled. Her heart began to increase in its tempo until she thought it would fly from her chest. She couldn't seem to breathe, and she gaped like a fish out of water. She had never in her life been so filled with fear, for before her was her greatest nightmare come to life. How had they survived? But it did not matter. They had survived her revenge, and had now obviously returned to take theirs. She stepped back with a shriek.

"Ohh, villainess!" Cailin cried, surprising the men as she leapt forward at Antonia. "You never thought to see me again in this life, did you? But here I am, Antonia Porcius, alive, and strong! Now, where is my child? I want my child; I know you have my baby!"

"I do not know what you are talking about," Antonia quavered.

"You are lying, Antonia," Wulf said, and his blue eyes were bright with his anger. "Lying as you lied to me when you told me that Cailin was dead in childbirth of a difficult birth, of a son who tore her apart and then died, too. You lied when you told me you cremated their remains. I found my wife in Byzantium by merest chance, preparing to wed another man, damn you! Do you know how very much I want to kill you right now? Do you know all the misery you have caused us? And once again you have tried to steal our lands, Antonia Porcius. You will not succeed now, just as you did not succeed before!"

"Did I hurt you, Wulf?" Antonia suddenly flared. "Did the knowledge that Cailin was dead cause you unbearable pain? I am glad if it did. I am glad! Now you know the pain you caused me when you killed my beloved Quintus! I wanted you to suffer! And I wanted Cailin to suffer as well. If she had not returned from her grave that first time, you would not have killed my husband, and I should not have lost my second son! All my misery is due to the two of you, and now here you are again to cause me heartache. A pox upon you! I hate you both!”

"Give me my child, you bitch!" Cailin cried out angrily.

"What child?" Antonia said with false sweetness. "You had no child, Cailin Drusus. The child died at birth."

"I do not believe you," Cailin replied. "I heard my child cry strongly before your herbs rendered me unconscious. Give me my child!”

"Give her the child, Antonia." Anthony Porcius came forward. He had aged greatly in the last few years. His step was slow and his hair was snow-white, but it was his sad eyes that touched Cailin. Reaching out, he took her hand in his. "She told me that you had died, and that Wulf would not take the child," he said. "She claimed to be raising her out of the goodness of her heart, but there is, I now see, no goodness in my daughter's heart. It is black with bitterness and hatred. The child has your husband's coloring, but in features she is your image. Each day she grows more so, and of late Antonia has begun to hate her for it."

"Her?" Cailin whispered softly, and then suddenly she cried out to her husband, "That is what she said, Wulf! I remember it now. The last thing I heard before I fell unconscious on that day our child was born was Antonia's voice saying, 'I always wanted a daughter.' We have a daughter. Give her to me, you viper. Give me my daughter!"

Ragnar Strongspear's first wife, Harimann, came forward leading a small girl by the hand. "This is your daughter, lady. She is called Aurora. She is a good child, though the lady Antonia beats her."

Cailin knelt and took the little girl into her arms. She was several months from her third birthday, but she was a tall child. Her tunic dress was ragged, and her blond hair lank. There was a frightened look in her eyes, and upon her cheek was a purple bruise. Cailin looked up at Antonia and said quietly, "You will pay dearly for that, lady." Then she hugged the trembling child, setting her back down finally so they might look at one another. "I am your mother, Aurora. I have come to take you away from the lady Antonia, who stole you from me. Do not be afraid."

The child said nothing. She just stared at Cailin with large eyes.

"Why does she not speak?" Cailin demanded.

"She does sometimes," Harimann said, "but she is always afraid, poor child. We tried to soften the lady Antonia's unreasonable anger toward Aurora, but it only made it worse. She is half starved, though we had sought to feed her when the lady Antonia was not about. Antonia's son, however, follows his mother's direction, and would tell on us. Then Aurora would be beaten. Finally she would take no food from us for fear of being punished. The boy is abusive to her as well."

"Quintus, the younger, is as much of a toad as his father, I see," Cailin said scornfully. "You have reason to be proud, Antonia." She turned to the elderly Anthony Porcius. "Could you do nothing, sir?"

"I tried," he said, "but I am an old man, Cailin Drusus, and my place in this hall depends upon my daughter's goodwill."

"Tell Ragnar Strongspear the land is mine," she said to him.

"I can do that, Cailin Drusus," he replied, and then he turned to his Saxon son-in-law. "The lands she claims are her family's lands and belong to her. Antonia had no right to them at all. She claimed to me that she was holding them for Aurora, but I know that is not true."

Ragnar Strongspear nodded. "Then it is settled," he said.

"It is settled," Wulf Ironfist answered him. Reaching down, he lifted the little girl into his arms. "I am your father, Aurora," he told the child. "Can you say 'Father' to me, little one?"

She nodded, her eyes huge and blue.

He grinned. "I would hear it then, my daughter." He cocked his head to one side, as if listening hard.

"Father," the little girl whispered shyly.

He kissed her cheek. "Aye, sweeting, I am your father, and I will never allow you to be harmed by anyone again." He turned to Cailin and their two companions. "Let us go home now."

"You will not stay the night? I have some fine mead," Ragnar Strongspear said jovially. "And there is a boar roasting on the hearth."

"Thank you, but no," Wulf Ironfist replied. "The last time I left my hall, some damned savage came through and burned it. I will not take any further chances, Ragnar Strongspear."

"There is the matter of our.slaves," Cailin prompted her husband.

"I do not know about that," the burly Saxon answered.

"I can separate the Drusus Corinium servants from Antonia's," the elderly Porcius said.

"Then do so, old man," his son-in-law said, "and see that they are sent back with as much haste as possible. I want no quarrel between Wulf Ironfist and myself. We are to be neighbors, after all."

When Wulf and Cailin and their party had departed, Antonia Porcius said angrily to her husband, "You were a fool not to kill him, and Cailin Drusus besides, Ragnar. Wulf is no coward, and he will not let you steal back his lands. You will be fortunate if he does not take ours!"

He slapped her hard, sending her reeling. "Do not ever lie to me again, Antonia," he told her. "I will kill you next time. As for Wulf Ironfist, I will have his lands eventually, and I will have his wife as well. She sets my blood afire with her beauty."

Antonia clutched at her aching jaw. "I hate you," she said fiercely. "One day I will kill you, Ragnar!"

He laughed aloud. "You have not the courage, Antonia," he said, "and if you did, what would you do then? Who would protect you, and these lands I took from you? The next man might not care if you lived or you died. You are no beauty, my dear. Your bitterness shows in your face, rendering you less than attractive these days."

"You will regret your cruel words," she warned him.

"Be careful," he responded, "that I do not throw you, your sniveling whelp, and your old father out into the cold, lady. I do not need you, Antonia. I keep you because you amuse me in bed, but eventually even that charm of yours is apt to fade if you remain shrewish."

She glared at him and walked from the hall. Making her way through the courtyard, she moved to the gates and stopped. She could see Wulf Ironfist and his party in the distance, and she cursed them softly beneath her breath. They would pay. They would all pay.

"We are being watched," Cailin said as they rode.

Wulf turned a moment, and then turning back, said, "It is Antonia."

"She hates us so terribly," Cailin said. "To have done what she did, and stolen our child." She kissed the top of Aurora's head. The child was settled before her on the black mare.

"Antonia's venom is not what I fear," he said. "I do not believe Ragnar Strongspear will be content until he has wrested our lands back for his own. He is a fierce man, but I will contain his ambitions."

"He will wait for us to plant the fields and harvest the grain before he attacks us," Winefrith said. "But that will give us the summer months to strengthen our defenses."

"Why would he wait that long?" Cailin asked curiously.

"Because if he attacks after the harvest, he can destroy the grain and hay, thus starving us and our animals over the next winter."

"Is he that strong?" she wondered.

"We do not know yet, lambkin," Wulf said, "but we will. Then, too, there is the chance Ragnar will align himself with another warlord."

"I do not think so," Winefrith interjected. "I think it will be a matter of pride with him that he overcome you himself."

"Perhaps." Wulf smiled wickedly. "We have an advantage our friend Ragnar knows nothing about. We have our villages over the hill. We must decide how we are going to defend it all over the next few days, and then we will implement our plans so that when Ragnar Strongspear comes calling, we will be able to foil him."

"You will have to kill him, and Antonia, too," Cailin said bluntly.

"You know this for certain? The voice within speaks to you?"

She nodded. "It does, my lord."

"Then so be it," he said quietly, "but we will wait for Ragnar to make the first move. The defense we make is better if it is of our own choosing and not one we are forced into making. Agreed?"

"Aye, my lord!" his captains answered enthusiastically.

Chapter 16

The villages had never before possessed names. In past times they had simply been known by the name of whoever was in charge, which more often than not led to confusion. Now Wulf decided that each village needed a firm identity, one that would not change with every change in leadership. The Britons were no longer a nomadic people.

Berikos's old hill fort was resettled and called Brand-dun, for since it sat high, it would be the logical place for beacons to be lit. Brand-dun meant Beacon Hill. Eppilus's village became Braleah, which meant Hillslope Meadow, and indeed it had a fine one, as they had discovered the morning of their return. The other two villages were called Denetun, because it now belonged to the estate in the valley; and Orrford, which was set by a stream, whose shallow waters made it a perfect cattle crossing for drovers. The hall itself was named Cadda-wic, which meant Warrior's Estate.

An agreement was forged between Wulf Ironfist and the men in the villages. In return for recognizing him as their overlord, he would lead them, and protect them from all comers. All the lands that had been claimed in the past by the Dobunni Celts were now ceded to Wulf Ironfist and his descendants. The villagers would be given the rights to the common fields, to their kitchen gardens, and to graze their animals in the common pasture.

Their homes were theirs, but the land beneath it was not. They had the right to personally own cattle, horses, pigs, barnyard fowl, cats, and dogs. They would toil three days each week for their overlord at a variety of tasks. They would tend his fields and his livestock. Those with special skills, such as the cooper, the thatch-ers, and the ironworkers, would also contribute their efforts. They would all spend some time in military training for the defense of the lands.

And if war came, Wulf Ironfist would lead them. He would be father, judge, warrior, and friend to them all. It was a different sort of order than they had ever known, but it seemed to Eppilus and the others to be the best way to live now in their changing world. They needed to be united, and they needed a strong leader whom other ambitious men would respect and fear.

The women, Cailin among them, planted the fields. They tended the growing grain and the animals while the men went about the task of building defenses for the hall as well as for the villages. The hall they had left to last, knowing that Ragnar Strongspear had set a man to spy upon them from the hill above. Antonia's husband was lulled into a false sense of security, as the hall remained undefended by any barriers. Ragnar Strongspear did not know that each of the nearby villages was being prepared to defend itself should he discover them, as he and others eventually would. In midsummer he finally withdrew his spy, deciding the man's time would be better spent elsewhere than lying lazily on the hill. Wulf Ironfist's hall would be his when he chose to take it, Ragnar boasted to his wives.

Antonia, her body bruised by a recent beating her husband had administered, shook her head wearily. She was fairly certain she was with child. That at least should stem Ragnar's irritation with her for the present, and give her time to think. Her Saxon husband was going to lose everything for them if she did not intervene in the matter. Ragnar was not really a clever man. He was more like a marauding bull. And then, too, there was her darling son, Quintus, to consider. These lands Ragnar claimed to have conquered were really Quintus's lands. She could not allow this self-glorifying Saxon oaf to steal from Quintus.

Meanwhile, when Ragnar Strongspear withdrew his spy, Wulf and his men began to build a defense around the hall. It was an earthworks that they topped with a stone wall. Small wooden towers were set atop the wall, allowing for an excellent view of the surrounding valley. Winefrith worked long hours in his smithy producing doors for the walls. They were made of strong, aged oak, a foot in thickness and well-sheathed in forged iron. There had never been doors like them.

The hall was always busy, and always full of Wulf's men. There was so much work to do, and even more to oversee. As mistress here, it was Cailin's duty to provide direction. She seemed to have no time for herself, nor any privacy.

One day, in an effort to escape it all, she climbed the ladder to the solar above the hall. It was not a large room, its wood floor covering only a third of the hall below. There were four bed spaces set into the stone walls. They were bare and empty of bedding, for she and Wulf had been taking their rest below with everyone else.

Cailin sighed wistfully, remembering the early days of her marriage, when he could hardly wait to bed her. Since that wonderful night in Byzantium, they had not found time to couple. Wulf seemed totally absorbed in his task of raising the hall's defenses. He came to bed late, tired, and never woke her. She had tried several times to wait for him, but to no avail. She was exhausted herself, for her days were long and began early.

A ray of sun cut through one of the two narrow windows, partly illuminating the room, and Cailin began to visualize it as she had once planned it. Her loom would be by a window to catch the light. There would be a rectangular oak table and two chairs where they might dine in private. The bed spaces would be empty, but for the one in which they would sleep. Eventually their family would share the solar, but not at first. They would have their privacy for now!

Why not? A determined look came into Cailin's eyes. Why should she not complete the solar? She had her loom, and the furniture was sitting in a distant corner of the hall below, gathering dust. Going over to each of the two narrow windows in the room, Cailin unfastened the small casements, with their panes of animal membrane. Warm sweet air filled the solar, and she was immediately encouraged. Leaving the windows open, she climbed down into the hall again. She saw her cousin Corio at the high board eating bread and cheese, and called to him.

"Corio, come give me your aid."

He arose. "How may I help you, cousin?"

Cailin explained, and before she knew it, Corio, with the help of several young men, had lifted her loom, the table, the chairs, and the bedding to the solar above. "Take the brazier, too," she told him, handing him up the iron heater they had traveled with through Gaul.

He grinned wickedly. "I do not think you will need it, sweeting. Wulf's passion is poorly pent up. He is set to explode with it." He chuckled. "But give him the chance, cousin, and you'll have no need for yon little charcoal burner."

"Is nothing a secret in this hall?" she demanded, her cheeks red with her embarrassment. Did everyone know she and Wulf weren't coupling?

"Very little," Corio answered her dryly. Then he took the brazier from her. "But if you insist, cousin," he said, grinning mischievously.

When the men had gone back to their assigned tasks, Cailin clambered back up the ladder to the solar. Corio, bless him, had had far more sense than she. He had seen that the chests they used to store their personal belongings had been brought up into the room, as well. She fussed with the positioning of her loom and its stool so she would have the proper light. The table was not quite centered, Cailin thought, but she righted its position and straightened the chairs.

She filled their bed space with fresh hay she lugged up the ladder, and mixed it with lavender sprigs, handfuls of rose petals, and sweet herbs. The feather bed, in its practical cotton ticking, she slipped into a cover of sky-blue silk that she had made for it. It was an outrageous luxury, but who would know but them? Fluffing the feather bed, she placed it over the hay, where it settled on the fragrant herbage. Removing the small alabaster lamp from the niche in the bed space, she filled it with scented oil, and putting a wick into it, replaced the lamp in its space. She lay a fox coverlet across the foot of the bedspace. The bedspace was now ready for occupants.

Cailin looked about the solar. Although it needed wall hangings and more pieces of furniture to make it really comfortable, they would manage for the time being. At least it was ready for habitation. Although privacy was not something the Saxons held dear, Cailin was used to it, having been raised with it. Wulf would not find it a burden, she thought, smiling. Then she heard him calling her from the hall below. Cailin scrambled down the ladder from the solar, hurrying to greet her husband.

"We have finished the defenses for the hall," he told her proudly, obviously well-pleased. "The gates have just now been fitted to the entry."

"The barns within the walls are finished also," she told him, "and the harvest is almost all in. I did not go to the fields today, for I was about other business, my lord." She looked askance at his filthy con-. dition. "You need a bath, Wulf Ironfist. You stink of your labor."

"I am too tired to go to the stream and bathe," he told her. "Let it be, lambkin. I will bathe in the morning."

"Now," she said firmly, in a tone he had not heard her use before, "and not in an icy stream, either, my lord. Sit by the fire, and have some ale while I make the preparations. I have spent the better part of this day making the solar fit for our habitation. I will not sleep in the hall another night, Wulf Ironfist. If Aurora is to have a brother, we must have some time to ourselves. There is gossip already! The world will not come to an end because we seek our privacy each night."

"Should not our daughter sleep in the solar, too?" he queried her mischievously, cocking a bushy, tawny eyebrow quizzically.

"For now," Cailin answered him severely, "Aurora will remain in the hall, with Nellwyn to care for her." Then she left him and went to the end of the room, calling instructions to her household servants.

He watched, somewhat astounded, as a large oaken tub was slowly rolled into a corner of the hall. He had never seen it before, and he realized she must have had their cooper make it. She had great foresight, he decided. A hot bath would feel good. A line of male servants began running back and forth with pails of steaming water which they dumped into the great tub. It took fully half of an hour to fill the tub to Cailin's satisfaction. While it was being done, she marshaled soap and other implements necessary to bathing. Then she signaled him, and he arose, walking down the hall to where she waited, tapping an impatient foot.

"Remove your clothing, my lord," she said, then ordered the serving men to place screening about the tub. As he took each item of clothing from his tired body, she gathered it up into a pile. When he was entirely naked, Cailin handed it over the screen to the woman appointed laundress for the hall.

At her command, he climbed sheepishly into the tub. He was astounded when she stripped off her own clothing and joined him. "You mean to make my bath a pleasant experience, I see," he said, grinning lecherously at her.

"I mean to make it a thorough one," she countered sternly. " 'Twill not be easy. A Roman bath is best, but this is better than nothing." She took up her strigil and began to scrape the sweaty dirt from his neck, shoulders, and chest. The water in their tub just barely concealed her breasts, but Wulf's body was exposed from his waist up.

Reaching out, he cupped the twin orbs in his big hands and began to play with them as she worked. "We must begin to bathe again every day," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her earlobe.

She giggled. "Behave yourself, Wulf Ironfist. How can I do a proper job of bathing you if you distract me so?"

"Am I indeed distracting you, lambkin?" he said softly, his tongue swirling about the shell of her ear. He slipped a hand below the waterline to give her right buttock a gentle squeeze.

Her violet eyes twinkled at him. "You are very distracting, my lord," she admitted to him, "and you must not be, or I shall never get done. If I do not, we shall never reach the solar, where our newly prepared bed space is awaiting us. There is food and wine there aplenty, my love. Once we have gained the privacy of that chamber, and drawn the ladder up behind us, no one will be able to reach us." Then she pressed herself against him teasingly. "Do you not wish to be alone with me, Wulf, my husband?" She ran her tongue over his lips and then kissed him quickly.

His aquamarine-blue eyes smoldered at her. Their look was eloquent beyond measure. "Finish your task, lambkin," he ground out. "It is far past time Aurora had a brother, and if you are not finished quickly, we shall begin our endeavor right here in this tub!"

Cailin smiled alluringly at him, and without another word began to smear soft soap over his skin with gentle fingers. She bathed him and then sent him from the tub to dry himself while she washed her own body. A fresh tunic, barely covering his thighs, was set out for him. Cailin, exiting the tub, dried herself under his hot gaze and slipped on a long camisa.

"We must have a special place where we can bathe," she said. "It is too difficult for the servants to have to be constantly moving this great tub. Do you like it, my lord? I had it made."

"Aye, I like it," he said. "It is pleasant to wash with warm water and not cold. There are some things from your old civilization that I enjoy. We will have a bathhouse built next to the hall, where the tub may remain, and there will be a fire to heat the water." He took her hand in his. "Come, lambkin. I would see the solar now."

The hall seemed strangely deserted as they made their way to the ladder leading up into their chamber. Wulf climbed behind Cailin, and having gained the room, he leaned over and drew the ladder up behind him. Then he shut the trapdoor, shoving the iron bolts hard into their casing and laying the ladder across the door. Turning about, he inspected the room. The last of the sunset was coming through the two narrow windows. He could see the stars beginning to speckle the sky.

"Are you hungry?" she said. There was food laid out for them on the table. "You have worked hard."

"Later," he told her. "It will keep," and then he pulled his tunic off, nodding at her to do the same.

Cailin removed the shapeless gown she had put on after her bath. "Your hunger is of another kind," she observed softly.

"I have waited long," he said quietly, "but seeing you like this now, lambkin, I find I cannot wait another moment longer. I fear I am past the niceties."

She could see he was almost trembling, and his male organ was engorged and eager. Reaching out, she caressed him with gentle fingers, and he shuddered. "I will show you a pleasure I learned in Byzantium," she told him. "In a way, it is similar to something we did when I was carrying Aurora." She was surprised to find that she was as eager for him as he for her, despite their lack of fore-play. Taking her husband's hand, she led him to their bed space, but instead of entering it, Cailin knelt upon the bedding and instructed him, "Find my woman's passage, my love. Enter me this way, and see the delights you gain."

She felt him seeking carefully, and then she felt the tip of his weapon touching her wet and pulsing sheath. His big hands grasped her hips firmly, and he rammed himself home, groaning with undisguised pleasure as he realized he was deeper within her than he had ever been. For a moment he simply enjoyed the sensation of warmth and tightness. Then, unable to help himself, he felt his buttocks begin to contract and release, contract and release, as he propelled himself with ever growing urgency and impetus within her feminine channel, actually feeling her expand to accommodate his yet swelling, throbbing member. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, holding her firmly that he might have more of her.

Kneeling upon the bedding, Cailin arched her back, thrusting her hips up at him that he might delve even deeper. She had gasped at his entry, having forgotten how big he was, but then the rhythmic thrust of his weapon began to communicate its passion to her. She whimpered as he filled her passage, the torrid heat of him astounding her. She cried out at the fires he was arousing. The culmination of their combined passions exploded almost as rapidly as it had begun. He collapsed atop her, nearly sobbing with relief.

Cailin was almost smothered in the feather bed by the weight of him, but she somehow managed to squirm from beneath him. Rolling onto her back, she lay quietly, allowing her own heart to cease its frantic pumping. Finally she said softly, "I had almost forgotten how wonderful a lover you can be, Wulf Ironfist. You have restored my memory admirably."

He raised his head up, his blue eyes solemn but his words were humorous. "You will surely not forget again, lambkin."

Reaching over, she gently yanked a lock of his long corn-colored hair. "I will not forget again," she promised him with utmost seriousness, "but in return, you must promise not to let me be stolen away ever again." She righted herself in the bed space and encouraged him to do so as well, taking him into her arms so that his golden head rested upon her bosom.

He nuzzled the soft flesh gently. "I will never let you go, Cailin, my wife," he assured her. "Never! Ever!"

They made love again, this time in a more gentle and leisurely manner. She took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately as they reached the peak of their mutual desire. Then they fell asleep, exhausted.

When they awoke in the middle of the starry night, it was to discover that they were both hungry, but this time their hunger was for food. Cailin had brought a roasted capon, bread, cheese, crisp apples, and a heady wine to the solar. Together they shared the feast, returning to their bed space to kiss, and to caress, and to love some more.

The happiness that they had gained in finding each other again quickly communicated itself to all the inhabitants of the hall. Aurora, who had been so withdrawn and frightened, was now a laughing, happy child adored by both of her parents. Her unpleasant memories were fading, thanks to her relatively young age, and her third birthday was celebrated with much festivity, and not just a little excitement. Aurora had not been expected until at least the end of August, but she had chosen to be born on the nineteenth of that month.

The day of her third birthday dawned clear and warm. The grain harvest was all in and stored in the barns within the walls. The workers were preparing to harvest apples to make cider.

The watch upon the walls suddenly called out, "Horsemen upon the hillcrest!" and immediately the gates of Cadda-wic were shut and barred. The horsemen descended the hill slowly as Wulf Ironfist was called from the solar and hurried to a vantage point atop the walls.

Ragnar Strongspear's dark blue eyes narrowed with irritation as he saw the newly built defenses about the hall. Too late, he realized his error in withdrawing his spy. As he drew closer he observed that the wall enclosing Cadda-wic was a very strong one. And the fields about the hall had all been harvested, but where were the grain barns? Within those damned walls, he suspected, and safe from him. Ragnar was not a man of great intellect, but he knew that retaking these lands was not going to be as easy a task as he had earlier anticipated. Looking up, he saw Wulf Ironfist upon the walls, watching his approach.

Ragnar smiled toothily and said in his booming voice, "Good morrow, Wulf Ironfist! Surely you have not closed your gates to me? We are neighbors, and should be friends."

"Friends do not come calling at dawn with a party of heavily armed men," came the reply. "State your business with me, Ragnar Strongspear."

" 'Tis just a friendly visit," the older man declared. "Will you not open your gates and let me in, my friend?"

"We are not friends," Wulf Ironfist replied coldly. "If you wish to enter Cadda-wic, then you may, but you must leave your troop outside my walls. We are a peaceful community and seek no war-ring."

"Very well," Ragnar said, deciding that he must get a look inside the walls of Cadda-wic if he was to eventually take it. He dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to his second-in-command.

"My lord," the man, whose name was Harald, said, "it is not safe."

"It is safe," his master assured him softly. "If our positions were reversed, 'twould not be so, but Wulf Ironfist is a man of his word."

The gate was opened just enough for Ragnar to squeeze through, and then the strong iron bars were lowered, securing the entry from intruders. He noted that the gates were sheathed in iron. Cadda-wic was well thought out. The well was in the courtyard's center, and there were several grain barns, well away from the walls.

" 'Tis virtually impregnable," Wulf Ironfist said in answer to Ragnar's thoughts as he joined his guest. "Have you eaten? Come into the hall, Ragnar Strongspear."

The hall doors were also thick oak, and bound with bands of iron studded with large iron nails. The two men passed through them into the hall. It was not like his smoky and dirty hall, Ragnar noted. Indeed, the smoke from the fire pits was drawn directly out several smoke holes in the roof. The rushes upon the floor were clean, and filled with sweet herbs that gave off their perfume as they were crushed beneath his feet. Several well-fed, sleek hounds came up to sniff him, and then returned to their places by the fires. The two men seated themselves at the high board. At once a line of quiet, contented-looking servants began to serve them, bringing platters of food and pouring brown ale.

Ragnar's eyes grew wide at the variety of foods offered him. He was certainly not fed like this in his hall. There was a thick pottage, warm, newly baked bread, hard-boiled eggs, broiled trout, ham, sweet butter, hard cheese, and a bowl filled with apples and pears. "Were you expecting guests?" he asked his host.

"No," Wulf said. "My wife keeps a good table, doesn't yours?"

"There is not this variety," Ragnar admitted, and helped himself liberally to everything offered.

There was silence as the two men ate. When they had finished and the table cleared, Wulf said quietly, "If you thought to retake these lands, Ragnar Strongspear, put it from your mind. They belong to me."

"Only as long as you can hold them," the older man said, grinning.

"I will hold them for longer than you have life," was the cool reply. "This hall and the lands to the north and to the east are mine. I will keep them. Seek out the lands to the south for yourself and your children. You cannot have my estates."

"You have taken Dobunni lands?" Ragnar was surprised.

"They have given me the fealty," Wulf told him, a small smile upon his lips. "While you spent the summer months plotting and planning, Ragnar Strongspear, I spent those months doing. Go home, and tell Antonia Porcius to cease her greedy thoughts. I cannot imagine why you took her to wife. She is a very evil woman. If you do not know this, be warned. No doubt she wants her lands back for her son Quintus. She will do what she must to gain her desire. She will even destroy you if she can."

"You seem to know my wife well," Ragnar said dryly.

"After Antonia had stolen my daughter and sent my wife into slavery, she told me that they were both dead," Wulf answered. "She offered herself to me, disrobing in the atrium of her villa and pushing her breasts into my face. I found her singularly undesirable."

"She can be at times," Ragnar admitted, "but she is also the best damn fuck I have ever had. I swear it by Woden himself!"

"Then I congratulate you on your good fortune," Wulf said, "but I still advise you to beware her. There is no necessity for us to quarrel, Ragnar Strongspear. There is more than enough land for us all. Stay to the south, and there will be peace between us."

His guest nodded in reply. Then he said, "Where is your wife, Wulf Ironfist? I hope she is not ill."

"Nay, but she is seeing to the preparations for a small celebration of our daughter's natal day. It is the first time since Aurora's birth that we have been able to celebrate it together," he told the other man. "As you know, we did not even realize we had a daughter until several months ago."

Ragnar flushed. "That was not my fault," he said. "I believed Antonia when she said the child was hers. She is fair like Antonia. Why should I have not believed her?"

"We do not hold you responsible," Wulf assured him graciously.

"I must go," Ragnar said, rising. Wulf's manner was beginning to irritate him. "I thank you for the meal. I will certainly consider your words, Wulf Ironfist."

As Ragnar departed Cadda-wic, his thoughts were somewhat confused. Wulf Ironfist had actually given him good advice. The lands to the south of him were rich, and most of the poor souls farming it could not withstand the force of his might. Those lands could be his for the taking, and with little loss of life on his side. He was not afraid of death, nor of battle, but there was something about this Britain that made a man desire peace more than war. He did not understand it, but neither did it make him unhappy.

Antonia, however, did not quite see it that way. "Why would you settle for less than you can have?" she demanded of him scornfully.

To her credit, he thought, she was not afraid of his anger. She knew herself safe as she was growing big with his child. He did not believe in beating a woman who was with child, though the gods knew this particular woman tried him sorely. His two Saxon wives were strong women as well, but they had a sweetness to them. Antonia was bitterly hard of heart, her only softness being that which she showed toward her son. The boy, Ragnar thought, was a cowardly little weasel, always hiding behind his mother's skirts.

"What would you have of me, then?" he demanded irritably. "Why should I war with Wulf Ironfist over his lands, when the lands to the south are as rich, and easier pickings? Perhaps, Antonia, you hope that Wulf Ironfist will vanquish me and you will regain control of these lands for your son. Put such thoughts from your head, wife. Soon my brother and his family will join us. If I die an unnatural death, Gunnar will be here to avenge me, and to hold these lands for himself and our sons."

She was astounded. This was the first she had heard of his brother, but used to deceit, Antonia covered her surprise with a sweet smile. "You did not tell me that you had a brother, Ragnar, or that he would be coming to join us. Has he wives and children? When is he to arrive? We must prepare a proper welcome for our family."

Ragnar's booming laughter filled their bed space. "By Woden, Antonia, you are clever, but I see through you! You were not expecting that I had additional family, but we Saxons are good breeders, as your belly attests to," he told her, patting the place where his child grew within her. "You had some scheme in mind, and now, I have not a doubt, you will form another crafty plot to replace it. Very well, if it amuses you to do so. Breeding women are given to such vagaries, and it is harmless enough, I think." He lowered his dark blond head and kissed her plump shoulder. His shoulder-length hair brushed her breasts.

Reaching up, Antonia thoughtfully stroked his beard. She hated him, but he was the most virile man she had ever known. "Do not be a fool, Ragnar," she finally told him. "Take the lands to the south, for Wulf Ironfist has given you good advice. Even I will admit to that. Lull our enemy into a false sense of security, and when he least expects it, seize his lands as well! Why settle for being a minor lordling when you could be a king?"

At her words, the child within her kicked mightily, and Ragnar Strongspear felt the movement beneath his resting hand. "It is an omen," he said, almost fearfully. "Why else would the child grow so restive in your womb, Antonia? Surely it is a sign of some sort."

"Our son knows that I speak the truth, my husband," she told him. "Or perhaps it is the gods who speak to you through the babe." What a fool he is, she thought to herself. If the gods existed, and frankly Antonia was no longer certain that they did, why would they bother to concern themselves with one as foolish and superstitious as this great bull of a man who lay by her side contemplating the future?

"My brother and his family should be here in a few days' time," he told her finally. "He has just a single wife, as he has never been able to afford more, but now, of course, that will change. He is younger than I am by several years, but he fathered his first child on his wife when he was but fourteen. There are eight living children. Six sons."

"What a fine family," Antonia said dryly, thinking that this horrid hall he had built to replace her beautiful villa-the villa he had destroyed-was already badly overcrowded. The addition of ten more people would but add to the noise and the filth. The gods! She missed her bath with its lovely rejuvenating steam and its delicious hot water. How Ragnar's other wives mocked her when she insisted on washing herself in a little oaken tub filled with warm water. But she didn't care. She would wager that Cailin Drusus had better bathing accommodations, the bitch! "Ragnar," she said to her husband, who was half dozing.

"What?" he grunted.

"If Cadda-wic is truly fortified so well it cannot be taken in battle, then we will have to think of another way to capture it."

He shook his head at her. "There is no way. Wulf Ironfist has built strongly, and he has built well. Even the water supply is safely within his walls. I am not a man to easily admit defeat, Antonia, but Cadda-wic cannot be taken. It simply cannot be!"

"Let me tell you a tale of ancient times, Ragnar," Antonia said patiently, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Another time, woman," he said, and rolled her onto her side. "I have other things in mind for you, and then I must sleep. In the morning you may tell me your fable, but now I want to fuck you."

"Your needs are so simple," she taunted him, hissing softly as he penetrated her expertly. "If you are as good a warrior as you are a lover, my husband, you will have no difficulty in taking Cadda-wic once I have shown you how. Ahhh, yess, Ragnar! Yesss!"

Cadda-wic. He thought about it as he methpdically pumped her. The lands were good, the hall sound, and Cailin would be an extra bonus. He had seen her several times, but he could not dismiss her from his mind. What fire and spirit she had! He imagined she would be as strong and sweet as his Saxon wives, and as lustful as Antonia. It was a perfect combination, and he meant to have her. There was time, however. Neither she nor Wulf Ironfist were going anywhere. They had made it abundantly clear that the land meant everything to them. He would have more than enough time to take the lands to the south. To settle his brother and his family on a nearby holding. To find Gunnar a second wife with a good dowry. Oh, yes, there was plenty of time.

The autumn came, and Nuala bore Winefrith a fine, big son, who was called Barre. It meant a gateway between two places. Nuala thought it appropriate, for Barre was indeed a bridge between the Britain of old and the new Britain. Cailin was present at the birth, and afterward marveled at the child's size and how strongly he tugged upon his mother's breast when he was put there to nurse.

"You'll have a son of your own soon enough," Nuala teased her. "Surely you and Wulf do not spend all that time in the solar just talking, cousin." She giggled. "I know I wouldn't!"

"Fresh from childbirth, and totally shameless," Cailin said, pretending to be scandalized. "For your information, Wulf enjoys watching me at my loom, Nuala. And then, of course, we sing together."

Nuala looked thunderstruck. "You jest!" she said.

"I assure you it is quite true," Cailin replied sweetly.

"Indeed it is," Wulf said, agreeing with his wife, whom he had overheard spinning her mischievous tale. "Cailin weaves a most marvelous spell about me when we are in the solar together, and sings passion's song far better than any I have ever known."

Nuala burst out laughing, realizing that they were teasing her. The infant at her breast hiccuped, and began to wail. "Ohh, see what you have done to Barre!" she scolded them, suddenly all maternal concern and caring. "There, my little sweetheart. Do not fuss."

By the Winterfest, the lady of Cadda-wic was beginning to swell with another child, much to everyone's delight. It would be born, Cailin told them, after Beltane.

"And it is a son, I am certain," she assured Wulf.

"How can you tell?" he asked her, smiling.

She shrugged. "I just can," she said. "A woman senses such things. Is that not so?" She turned to the other women in the hall for support, and they all nodded in agreement. "You see!"

The winter set in, and the land around them grew white and silent. The days were short, and quick. In the long nights the wolves could be heard howling about Cadda-wic, their eerie cries answered by the mournful howls of the hounds in the hall who grew restless at the knowledge of the predators prowling beyond the strong iron and oak gates.

Wulf and Cailin were alone, for the others had returned to their own villages after the Winterfest. Cailin missed Nuala. Nellwyn, though sweet and loyal, was not particularly interesting to chat with by the fire. Aurora, however, adored her, and without anything being said, Cailin's former slave became the child's nursemaid. It was just as well, for Cailin did not need a personal servant. Her mother had raised her to be a useful person who could do for herself. Now, as mistress of Cadda-wic, Cailin found herself responsible for the well-being of all those in her charge.

Finally the days began to grow discernibly longer. The air felt milder. Patches of earth became visible, and the snow cover shrank rapidly as the earth began to grow warmer with the coming spring. Snowdrops, narcissi, and violets began to make their appearance. Cailin was pleased to find several large clumps growing near the graves of her family. The marble marker had never been finished, and it was now unlikely that it ever would be. It simply read: The Family of Gaius Drusus Corinium. Looking down at it, Cailin sighed, her hand moving to her swollen belly in a protective gesture. How her family would have spoiled her children!

"This child I carry is a son," she assured them aloud. "How I wish you could be here to see him when he is born. He is to be called Royse. Aurora is very excited about the new baby. Ohh!" Cailin looked up as an arm went about her shoulders. "Wulf, how you startled me!"

"You miss your family, don't you?" he replied. "I cannot even remember my mother. I often wonder what she was like."

"Until they were murdered," Cailin answered him, "they were my whole life. I cannot help but wonder what it would have been like if they had not died. My parents, of course, would not be much changed, but my brothers would. They would truly be men now, with families. How my grandmother would have enjoyed those great-grandchildren. I think, perhaps, it is Brenna I miss the most. How strange that must sound to you."

"I am sorry that I did not know them," he told her. Then together they returned to the hall, where their daughter ran to greet them.

The spring was well under way and the plowing started when the gates were opened one morning to reveal a young girl crumpled upon the earth before them. Wulf and Cailin were summoned from the hall.

"The gods!" Cailin exclaimed. "The child has been beaten cruelly! Is she dead? How came she here to Cadda-wic?"

The girl moaned as if in answer, and rolled over just enough to reveal a form more mature than they had thought. She was small and slender, but obviously older than they had originally believed.

Cailin knelt and gently touched the maiden's arm. "Can you hear me, lass?" she asked her. "What has happened to you?"

The girl opened her eyes slowly. They were a pale green in color, and the look in them was one of total confusion. "Where am I?" she whispered so low that Cailin had to bend closer to hear her.

"You are at Cadda-wic, the holding of Wulf Ironfist," she replied. "Who are you? Where have you come from, and who has mistreated you so cruelly?" She shifted herself, uncomfortable in this position, as she was within a month of bearing her child.

The girl looked uncertain as to what to answer, and her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her very pretty face.

"What is your name?" Cailin gently pressed her.

The girl appeared to think a moment, and then she said, "Aelfa. Aelfa is my name! I remember! I am called Aelfa!"

"Where have you come from?" Cailin asked.

Again the girl appeared.to consider, and then said, "I do not know, lady." The tears slipped silently down her face again.

"Poor little thing," Wulf said. "The beating she has received has obviously addled her wits. She will remember in time."

"I will carry her into the hall," said Corio, who had come but the day before from Braleah. Gently, he lifted the girl into his arms, and when her head fell against his shoulder, a strange look crossed the young man's face. No woman had yet captured Corio's heart.

The girl was brought to the hall, where Cailin carefully examined her. Other than her bruises, she seemed fine, but for her loss of memory. Cailin had the tub brought and bathed the girl herself. Aelfa's hair was like cornsilk, a pale, almost silvery gold in color. A tunica and camisa were quickly found to fit her dainty stature. As she was brought to the high board, everyone in the hall could see that Aelfa was not simply a pretty girl. She was a beautiful one. Corio appeared besotted as he watched her eating, picking sparingly at the food.

"He is bewitched," Cailin whispered to her husband.

"As I would be had I not found you, lambkin," he answered.

Cailin was discomfited by his reply, to her great surprise. She had not thought herself capable of such silly jealousy. She gazed from beneath her lashes at the girl. I am just as lovely when I do not look like a sow ready to birth her piglets, she decided. Why are men such fools over a beautiful, helpless female? I should far rather be strong.

When Aelfa had finished eating, Wulf gently asked her, "Have you remembered anything else about yourself that might help us to find to whom you belong? Surely your family is worried."

"Perhaps she is a slave, a runaway," Cailin suggested.

"She wears no collar," Wulf replied. "Did you see any mark of ownership upon her when you bathed her, lambkin?"

Cailin shook her head. "Nay, I did not."

"I can remember nothing of myself," Aelfa said in a sweet, almost musical voice. "Oh, I am afraid! Why can I not remember?"

"You will remember in time," Cailin said briskly, seeing that Aelfa was preparing to weep once more. The men were being foolish enough without being subjected to that. "Have you not work in the fields?" Cailin asked her husband. "Do not worry about Aelfa. She will stay with me, and I will keep her safe. Corio, will your father not want you at home to help? We are so pleased you came to visit, but go, and do not come back until the Beltane fires, cousin!"

"Are all women so impatient when they are close to delivering their young?" Corio asked Wulf as they exited the hall. "I have never seen Cailin so short of temper." Then, dismissing his cousin, he said, "Is not Aelfa the most exquisite creature you have ever seen? I think I am in love with her already. Is such a thing possible, Wulf Ironfist?"

Wulf laughed. "Aye, it is," he admitted, "and I can see you are certainly taken with our waif-child. If we learn anything of import about her, like a husband languishing somewhere, I will send word to you."

Aelfa, however, could not seem to remember anything of her life before they had found her, apart from her name. Wulf felt that all evidence pointed to a gentle birth, and had wanted to house her in the solar, not the hall. Cailin had, with strangely uncharitable feelings, refused.

"The solar is for the lord and his family," she said sharply to her husband. "Aelfa is not family. She is safe in the hall, and to house her with us would say otherwise, causing unpleasant talk."

Among whom? he had wanted to ask, but Cailin's expression was so forbidding he dared not. He put her irritation down to the fact the child's birth was near and that she was anxious for it to be born. "You are mistress of this hall," he soothed her, and was surprised when she glared up at him. He had never seen her like this. Certainly she had not been so easily angered when she had carried Aurora.

"The girl must stay," Cailin said. "It goes against all the laws of hospitality for us to expel her from Cadda-wic due to the mysterious circumstances surrounding her arrival. Nonetheless she is not family, and I will not have her treated as such, lest it be misunderstood."

He was forced to agree, and Aelfa settled into the routine of their lives. She was courteous and pleasant to all, but Cailin thought she seemed more so to the men. Cailin did not know what it was that made her suspicious of Aelfa, but her voice within was strong. She had long ago learned not to deny it even when she did not fully understand the warning. Cailin knew from her past experiences that all would be revealed in time. Until then she would be vigilant and on her guard. Her family and all she held dear were once again being threatened. Would there never come a time when they would know real peace? she despaired silently.

Across the hall, Aelfa sat upon the floor with Nellwyn, giggling as they played with Aurora. They made a most charming picture, even if that was precisely what Aelfa had intended, Cailin thought angrily, wondering why the others could not see the girl for the schemer she was. In time, that little voice counseled her wisely. In time.

Chapter 17

There would never be a Beltane celebration, Cailin thought pensively, when she would not remember the tragedy that had struck her family. The merriment of the festival would always be tinged with sadness for her. When she and Wulf had returned to Britain last year, the holiday had been a subdued one for them because they were too involved with rebuilding their lives. This year, however, it was different. The fields were already green with new grain. There was an air of new hope about them that she could not remember having felt in all her life.

The weather was perfect, and despite the impending birth of her child, Cailin arose early to gather flowering branches for the hall. She took Aurora with her, and upon their return, Cailin noticed Nellwyn and Aelfa loitering about the hall's gates, flirting with the men on duty. She called sharply to Nellwyn to come and take Aurora, and scolded Aelfa for her idleness. Then she hurried into the hall, hearing laughter behind her and knowing that Aelfa had probably said something rude.

Cailin could not understand why the girl's memory had not returned. She had not been that badly injured when they had found her. In fact neither her head nor her face had been touched, it seemed. She had been treated with great kindness in the weeks she was with them. Cailin suspected that the girl knew full well who her people were and where she had come from, but would say nothing lest she be dislodged from her comfortable place at Cadda-wic, which was obviously better than anything she had ever known. Cailin realized that she did not want Aelfa at Cadda-wic much longer. If the girl could or would not remember, then a husband must be found for her in one of the villages by summer's end. Cailin was perfectly willing to supply the dowry, but Aelfa must go.

"Mama! Mama! See fire!" Aurora, who was snuggled into her mother's arms, pointed with fat little fingers at the Beltane fires leaping up across the hillsides as the sun set.

"Aye, Aurora, I see," Cailin answered her daughter.

"Pretty," Aurora said. "Look at Papa!"

Cailin smiled as Wulf leapt the fire, laughing, and then other men and women both began to follow him.

"Mama jump!" Aurora commanded her mother.

"Nay, precious, not this year," Cailin laughed. "I am too fat with the new baby. Next year," she promised.

Aelfa leapt over the flames, her pale gold hair flying. She was laughing, and Cailin had to admit, even grudgingly, that she was beautiful. The men clustered about her like bees to a honey pot. Corio had come from Braleah village just to see her, but Aelfa did not seem to favor him, to his great disappointment. Her two favorite swains were men-at-arms, Albert and Bran-hard, who vied mightily for her attention. It was just as well, Cailin thought. She was sorry to see the look of hurt on Corio's face, but she also knew he could do better than Aelfa if he really desired a wife. She watched, half amused, half annoyed, as Aelfa disappeared into the darkness, first with one of her admirers, and then returned with him to shortly go off with the other.

"She has the morals of a mink," Cailin said to Wulf. "She will have those two at each other's throats before the night is out."

"She is young, and it is Beltane," he answered mildly.

"We must find her a husband, and the sooner the better, from what I have observed here tonight, my lord," Cailin told him severely. The gods! She sounded like an old woman! What was the matter with her?

"I suspect you are right, lambkin," he answered, to her great surprise. "She is far too lovely a maid to be allowed to run freely much longer. I cannot have dissension among my men over a pretty girl. Discord is a weakness we can ill afford. Ragnar Strongspear has taken my advice and is expanding his territory to the south. He has been joined by his brother Gunnar. I have no doubt that, egged on by Antonia, he will be foolish enough to turn his eyes toward our lands sometime in the future. We must remain strong."

Aurora, half asleep, was heavy in Cailin's arms. "Nellwyn," she called to the nursemaid, "take Aurora and put her to bed." Then she turned back to her husband. "Make inquiries in Orrford to see if any young men need wives. If you make Aelfa choose between Albert and Bran-hard, there will be hard feelings between those two. She is in love with neither, but rather plays with each like a cat with a mouse. Corio is taken with her, but she is not the right woman for him. Best we send her as far from Cadda-wic and Braleah as we can. That way, none of her admirers here is apt to see her again for a long time, if ever. By summer's end, Aelfa must be wed."

"I must make a tour of all the villages soon to see how it goes with them," Wulf told his wife. "I but wait for the son you have promised me before leaving you, lambkin. I will personally seek out and find the right young man for Aelfa to wed in Orrford."

"Good!" Cailin said, but despite their agreement in the matter, her voice within nagged her yet. She remained on her guard, but for what, she was unable to tell.

Royse Wulfsone was born on the nineteenth day of May. Unlike his sister's hard birth, his entry into the world was a swift and easy one. Cailin awoke in the hour of the false dawn to realize her waters had broken. Within minutes she was being racked with labor, and in the hour that the sky began to lighten with the new day, the baby was born, howling lustily, his face red, his small arms flailing. Nellwyn had assisted her mistress with the birth, but Aelfa swooned at the sight of the blood involved and had to be carried from the solar.

Cailin and Wulf's son was strong and healthy from the moment of his birth. He suckled eagerly at his mother's breasts, and always seemed hungry. Denied her daughter's infancy, Cailin reveled in her motherhood. Sensitive, however, to Aurora's feelings, she involved the little girl in her brother's care as much as she could so that Aurora would not feel neglected. As a big sister, Aurora, who would be four in the late summer, did admirably, running to fetch her mother at her baby brother's least cry; helping to dress him; watching over him with Nellwyn.

"She is so patient with him," Cailin observed. "He is going to be very spoiled, I fear. He already recognizes her."

"Do you see how strong he is?" Wulf said proudly. "He will be a big man someday. Perhaps even bigger than I am."

When Royse was six weeks old, and Cailin fully recovered from the birth, Wulf Ironfist set off to visit his villages. Before he left, he called Aelfa into his and Cailin's presence. She came meekly, looking particularly pretty in a pale blue tunica she had made from a length of fabric Cailin had given her on Beltane.

"How may I serve you, lord?" she inquired politely.

"Has your memory returned yet, even in part, maiden?" he asked her quietly, his voice both gentle and encouraging.

Aelfa's light green eyes grew visibly misty. "Alas, my lord, no," she answered him. "I have tried to remember something of myself, but I cannot. Ohh, what will become of me?"

"It is time that you were wed," Wulf answered her.

"Wed?" Aelfa looked startled. This was obviously not something that she had even considered. "You would marry me?"

Cailin hissed angrily. The nerve of the wench!

"Not I," he said, somewhat startled himself by her words. "I go tomorrow to tour the villages belonging to my holding. Since you can remember nothing of yourself, and we have heard of no lost lasses in the time you have been with us, then it is time for you to begin a new life. As lord of this land, your welfare is my responsibility. I will therefore seek out a good husband for you, and you will be wed as soon as it is possible. Before the summer's end, I think."

"But I do not think I want a husband," Aelfa said nervously. "Perhaps I already have a husband, my lord. What if that is so?"

"Is it, Aelfa? Do you have a husband?" He pierced her with a sharp look. "Perhaps you have run away from a husband who caught you with a lover and then beat you for your faithlessness."

"I cannot remember, my lord," she stubbornly insisted.

"Then," Wulf said, smiling benignly, "I think it best we find you a good man and resettle you, maiden. Is it agreed?"

For a very long moment Aelfa was silent, and then finally she said, "Yes, my lord, but could you not marry me yourself?"

"One wife is more than enough for me," he replied with a chuckle. "Eh, lambkin?" He swept a loving look at Cailin by his side.

"You will never need another," she said quietly.

When Nellwyn learned of the other girl's fate, she complained to her mistress, "Why is it that Aelfa is to have a husband and I am not? Have I not served you well, my lady?"

"More than well, Nellwyn," Cailin assured her. "You may have a husband whenever you choose him, unless, of course, you would prefer that my lord and I select a good man for you. Aelfa is alone in the world and needs our aid; but you, Nellwyn, have always had me, and whatever you desire within reason I will give you for your faithful service."

"When Aelfa first came," Nellwyn told her mistress, "I thought her nice, but she is not, my lady. She teases the men to distraction."

"I know," Cailin replied. "That is why I suggested to my lord that he find her a husband-in Orrford, if possible."

"Orrford?" Nellwyn giggled. "It is far, my lady, and not very big, and there are so many cows. More than people, I think."

"Indeed?" Cailin said, a single eyebrow cocked.

"She will have to work very hard," Nellwyn continued. "Life is harsh is Orrford, and once she is married, she cannot flirt with others."

"No," Cailin answered solemnly. "Husbands will take umbrage if a wife flirts with other men, Nellwyn. Aelfa will have to become a very good and most proper wife, won't she?" She grinned at her servant.

Nellwyn giggled. "I do not think Aelfa will like either that or Orrford, my lady. She pretends to be meek and modest before you and my lord, but her tongue is sharp, and sometimes foul. She is not, I think, what she pretends to be, yet never has she spoken to me of her past. She does not even talk in her sleep, for I have listened."

"Soon Aelfa will not be our worry any longer," Cailin said soothingly to Nellwyn. "By summer's end she will be gone from us to a husband."

"Good riddance!" Nellwyn said feelingly. "I shall not be sorry to see the back of that one, my lady."

Cailin suddenly had a flash of intuition. "Is it Albert or Bran-hard you favor, Nellwyn, my lass?" she asked the girl.

Nellwyn blushed to the roots of her yellow hair. "Ohh, my lady! How did you know? 'Tis Albert, the fool, but he cannot see me for his eyes are too full of Aelfa, though she toys with him, first favoring him and then Bran-hard. Both are confused by her wicked behavior, but 'tis Albert I love."

"He will have forgotten her by Samain, I promise," Cailin said to the girl. "Then we will see if he favors a marriage with you."

Nellwyn's blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh, my lady, thank you! I would make Albert a good wife. I would. The fool!"

Yes, Cailin thought after her revealing discussion with Nellwyn, the sooner Aelfa was gone from Cadda-wic, the better. Still her conscience nagged at her. Was she being fair, foisting the wench off on some poor unsuspecting young man? Wulf, however, was fully aware of Aelfa's shortcomings. He would choose the right man. It would be up to the bridegroom to correct Aelfa's behavior. Cailin hoped he would be strong enough.

Wulf had been gone for over a week when Aelfa disappeared one afternoon. "Has she run away, perhaps?" Cailin wondered aloud.

Aelfa, however, reappeared before the gates were closed that evening. When questioned about her whereabouts, she claimed to have been out berrying.

"You brought no berries back," Cailin noted sharply.

"I could find none, my lady," was the meek reply.

"She lies," Nellwyn said as she and her mistress made their rounds to see that the fires were banked for the night, that the door was bolted, and everything else in the hall was secure. "She had no basket with her, my lady. How could she berry without a basket?"

"She could not," Cailin answered. "More than likely she was out meeting a lover upon the hillside, the bold wench,"

"Albert and Bran-hard were looking something fierce at each other in the hall at supper, my lady," Nellwyn reported.

"There is our answer," Cailin said. "She is setting those two against one another again, but for what purpose I do not know."

Cailin climbed to the solar where Aurora and Royse were already long asleep. Lifting the baby from his cradle, she fed the half-sleeping infant before finding her own rest. She could not imagine a better life than the one she had. Wulf. Their children. Cadda-wic. Sometimes she would glimpse the old marble floor of what had once been her childhood home, and the memories would flood her being. Lately when that happened, she found she was no longer sad. Most of her memories were good ones, and whatever happened, those memories could not be taken from her. She would always have them, and in having them, she would always have her family with her.

Cailin slept, not hearing the bolt to the hall door being drawn softly. The door opened, and then it closed as silently as Aelfa could make it. She stood outside the entry a long minute, listening to the sounds of the night, and then she ran on bare feet across the courtyard to the gatehouse. The waning moon silvered her naked form. She carried a small skin of wine in her hand. Gaining her destination, Aelfa quickly entered the small gatehouse, shutting the door quietly. A smile of derision crossed her face at the sight of the dozing man on the stool in the corner. What a weakling he was, and his sense of duty was certainly lacking.

Kneeling down next to him, Aelfa kissed Bran-hard's mouth, startling the man awake. "Did you not want to see me?" she murmured seductively at him, and his eyes widened at her nudity. "I have brought you some fine wine from the lord's own barrel. It will not ever be missed," she reassured him, and handed him the full skin. "Have some." She kissed him quickly a second time.

"Aelfa," he said in a strangled voice. "You should not be here. Where is your clothing? What if someone should come?"

"Albert would not be so faint of heart," Aelfa taunted him. "He met me on the hillside today and tried to have his way with me. I fought him off and refused him, for it is you, Bran-hard, that I really want. Let Albert have Nellwyn, who is so cow-eyed over him." Her small hands reached down and fumbled beneath his tunic. "You are a real man! I know you are!" Then she kissed him hard. "Do you not want me, Bran-hard, my big, strong warrior?" Aelfa ran her tongue over her lips seductively.

Bran-hard found, to his surprise, that he was holding his breath. He let it out with a slow hiss as her hands found his manhood and began to play with it. She was skilled beyond any he had ever known. His eyes closed, and pure pleasure such as he had never experienced filled his being. Her little fingers stroked him slowly, lingeringly at first. Then pushing the covering from his battering ram, she worked him swiftly. He began to ache with his great need. "Aelfa," he groaned hungrily, catching his hand in her hair and drawing her closer to him. "I want you, Aelfa!"

Giggling, she took his cloak and spread it upon the narrow floor of the tiny gatehouse. Laying down upon it, she opened her legs wide and said huskily, "Come, stuff me with that great pole of yours, Bran-hard! You want me every bit as much as I want you! No one will come and find us. All are abed, and we may take our pleasure. As much of it as we like!"

He could not have stopped himself if he had wanted to. She was beautiful, and she was hot for him. No man in his right mind would refuse Aelfa's plea. With a low cry he fell upon her, pushing his engorged organ into her hot, wet sheath; humping her almost violently while she encouraged him onward, murmuring a soft stream of foul yet madly exciting obscenities into his ear as she writhed wildly beneath him. He was astounded that she would know such words, for she looked so pure, but it lessened his guilt at using her so enthusiastically.

She seemed to fill him with incredible strength, and his lust knew no bounds. He pumped and pumped and pumped himself into her, while Aelfa twisted and moaned beneath him, her little cries arousing him even further. Finally he could no longer contain himself and his passions burst violently within her throbbing body. He collapsed upon her with a groan of satisfaction. "By Woden, wench, you are the best! I have never had better, I swear it!" His oniony breath assailed her.

"Get off me, you oaf," she said, "you are crushing me."

He rolled away from her. "Where's that wine you brought?" he demanded, feeling relaxed now and more in control of the situation. "Let's have a drink together, and then I'll give you another bit of a poke if you're of a mind. You will be, won't you?" he said with a leering grin. "I've never known such a woman as you, Aelfa. You be one of those girls who cannot get enough, aren't you?" He sat himself back down upon his stool, pulling his garments into some semblance of order again. Then reaching out for her, he drew her near, tweaking the rosy nipples of her full, fat breasts. Her clothing had never given him any indication that she had such fine teats, but they were magnificent.

Rutting fool, Aelfa thought as she smiled up at him. She lifted up the skin of wine and pretended to drink before handing it on to him. "Hmmmm, 'tis good," she said as he swilled away, some of the purple-red liquid drizzling down into his thick blond beard.

Bran-hard let the sweet, cool liquid run down his throat. It was the best "drink he had ever tasted. Wulf Ironfist lived well. He handed her back the wineskin and began to fondle Aelfa's big breasts. "You've the best pair I've ever seen, wench," he said by way of a compliment, "and your cunt is the tightest of any I've ever reamed. I swear it! You really know how to give a man his pleasure, Aelfa. I can hardly believe it, but I'm ready to have at you again. On your back, my girl," he said, as loosing his organ from his clothing once more, he pushed her down to the floor.

What he lacked in subtlety he more than made up for in endurance and brute strength, Aelfa thought, as she pretended to be overcome with passion. She had taken her own pleasure with him the first time, but now she could not allow herself the luxury. When his lust exploded again and he rolled away from her, she offered him the wineskin once more, smiling encouragingly as he gulped down the potent liquid. This time, within moments, Bran-hard fell into unconsciousness. Aelfa sighed with her relief. She was actually sore with his enthusiastic attentions. A third bout with him would have certainly rendered her raw.

She rose from the floor of the gatehouse, and after much effort, managed to drag Bran-hard's limp, heavy body back onto his stool. His shaggy head lay upon his chest. He appeared to be dozing. She slipped from the building and ran quickly back across the courtyard to the hall. Letting herself in, she hurried to her bed space. The hall was quite silent, the contented snores of its inhabitants the only sounds she heard.

Aelfa put on her clothes and then returned to the gatehouse where Bran-hard sat, unconscious. Seating herself upon the floor, where she would not be seen, she waited for the predawn. When it finally came, Aelfa stood up, stretched, and then leaving the gatehouse went directly to the great gates of Cadda-wic. Slowly and with great difficulty, she pushed the heavy bar that lay across one of the gates to one side. Above her the sky was quickly lightening. Perspiration, half due to exertion, half to fear of discovery, rolled down her back as she struggled with the bar. When at last she succeeded, the single door swung open to reveal a large party of armed men.

"Uncle," Aelfa said archly. "Welcome to Cadda-wic."

"You have done well, niece," Ragnar Strongspear said, and then led his men quietly through the gates into the courtyard. "Where is the mistress of the hall? And how long before Wulf Ironfist's return?"

"Cailin sleeps in the solar with her children," Aelfa replied. "As for her husband, he should return in a few days' time, I expect."

"Secure this place," Ragnar said to his second-in-command, Harald, and then he turned back to Aelfa. "Fetch the lady Cailin to me, girl, and her children, too. I will want food also."

"Yes, Uncle," Aelfa said. She hurried off back into the hall to do his bidding, only realizing too late that Cailin always drew the ladder to the solar up each night. There was no other way into the room but through the trapdoor. As Ragnar strode into the hall, she ran back to him and explained the dilemma.

"No matter," he said. "She must come down, eventually, and I will be waiting for her. The lady Cailin is a most toothsome wench."

"You desire her?" Aelfa was surprised. She thought Cailin far too prim and proper for her lusty uncle. She was also too old, being past twenty.

"Do not be fooled by her dignity and manners, girl," he told her. "Beneath it all she is a woman, and a fiery woman, I will wager."

The sleepy and surprised inhabitants of Cadda-wic were roused and brought before Ragnar Strongspear. Outside, the men-at-arms were rounded up, subdued, and marched into the hall, including the half-conscious Bran-hard.

"This place is now mine by right of conquest," Ragnar said in a sonorous voice. "No harm will come to you if you obey my wishes. If you try to rebel, you will be killed. Now start your day as you normally would, and someone bring me some food. I am fair starved!"

For a moment they looked at him, still but half awake, and totally unaware of what they should do. How had this happened? How had Ragnar Strongspear gained entry to Cadda-wic? It was a common thought.

"You will obey Ragnar Strongspear for now," Cailin said as she came into their midst. "I want none of you harmed." She was very beautiful in a dark green tunic dress decorated with gold threads. Cailin turned to Ragnar and demanded in proud tones, "How came you here?"

His eyes devoured her. By Woden, she was a beauty, and he would have her this night beneath him! "By means of a Trojan horse," he answered her. "Do you know the story? Antonia told it me."

Cailin nodded. "I know the tale well," she said, and then a light of understanding dawned in her eyes. Her gaze swept the room and found what it was seeking. "Aelfa," she said. "Aelfa was your Trojan horse, was she not, Ragnar Strongspear? Who is she?"

"My brother Gunnar's eldest daughter. She is fifteen, and very wily," he said, chuckling.

"The girl, Aelfa, has betrayed us," Cailin told the gathering of her people. "She is Ragnar Strongspear's niece."

A terrible groan arose from Bran-hard. "Bitch!" he cried, and then flung himself before Cailin. "Lady, you must forgive me! I desired her, and she knew it. She came to me last night as I kept watch and offered herself to me. Then she fed me drugged wine to render me unconscious. It is my fault that the hall is taken! Forgive me!"

"You are a fool, Bran-hard, but get up and go about your duties. What is done is done, although you are not likely to escape some punishment from my husband when he returns," Cailin told him.

Bran-hard scrambled to his feet. His complexion had a decidedly yellow-green tinge to it. He looked as if he would be sick at any moment. "Thank you, lady," he managed to gasp.

Cailin realized now that the reason Aelfa had fixed her attentions on poor Bran-hard and the hapless Albert was that they were the two men assigned to the gatehouse. Each took his turn in rotation, keeping the watch through the night. Aelfa did not care for either of them, and poor Albert could have just as easily been her victim had he been on duty last night. It was only bad luck for Bran-hard that it had been his turn.

"How did Aelfa communicate with you?" Cailin asked Ragnar as they seated themselves at the high board and the hall regained some semblance of normalcy. "I sensed something wrong, but did not know what."

He looked eagerly toward the end of the hall for the servants who would soon be coming from the cook house with the morning meal. Ragnar well remembered the good table Cailin kept. "I had a man on the hill watching from the day you found her at your gates," he told Cailin, and then he gulped down the good brown ale poured into his cup. "I've never tasted better," he complimented her with a grin.

"Yesterday," Cailin said slowly. "She contacted the man yesterday afternoon when she slipped out, ostensibly to berry, but she took no basket with her. I knew it a lie, but not the reason for the lie."

The food was now beginning to arrive. Ragnar took his knife from his belt and cut himself two thick slabs of ham. He helped himself to several hard-boiled eggs and a small loaf of bread. "More ale!" he commanded the attending servant, then he asked Cailin, "Where are your children, lady? I hear you had a son but a few weeks back. That bitch Antonia lost my child after the solstice. It was a son, too. She is a bad breeder, but you will be a good breeder for me. Did you know that I am going to make you my wife, Cailin?. The first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew that I wanted you. My Saxon women are good creatures, loyal and hardworking, like milk cows. Antonia is a viper, but sometimes a little poison is sweet. You, however, my little fox vixen with your russet curls, will give me the greatest pleasure of all."

"I have a husband," Cailin said quietly. She was not afraid of this braggart. He could not have taken Cadda-wic without treachery, and he would be driven out.

"I will kill Wulf Ironfist," Ragnar bragged.

"I think rather he will kill you," Cailin replied quietly.

"Your children?" he demanded again. "Where are they?"

"They are gone," she said with a small smile.

"That cannot be!" he roared angrily, furious, for her children were the weapon he intended to use against her. "How can they be gone?" The veins in his thick neck stood out clearly, and they were throbbing.

"You gained entry to Cadda-wic by means of a ruse, Ragnar Strongspear," she said. "I was already awake when you entered the hall. At first I believed my husband had returned. I opened the door to look down, and saw you. My son was newly fed, and so I awoke my daughter. I dressed both children, and while you were bragging and bellowing and attempting to put the fear of the gods into my people, I brought my children down into the hall, gave them into the keeping of my servant, Nellwyn, and watched while she walked through the gates with them. Your men were so busy trying to bully mine that they never even noticed Nellwyn pass them by. She is now well on her way to Braleah. You will not catch her, I think," Cailin concluded, laughing lightly.

"Braleah? What is that place?" he growled.

"One of the villages belonging to Cadda-wic," she told him. "Surely you did not think we were alone but for a few of my Dobunni kin? Cadda-wic has four villages belonging to it. You will be unable to hold them, if you can even find them. Nellwyn will raise the alarm against you, and Wulf Ironfist will come with many men to drive you out. If I were you, I should finish my meal and hurry home."

"What a woman you are!" he answered her, grinning. "Even if I were to take your advice, I should take you with me, Cailin. You are not simply strong and beautiful, you think like a warrior. I do not believe I should like such a trait in any other woman, but it becomes you, my fox vixen. By Woden, it becomes you well!"

Cailin sipped her watered wine and ate heartily of bread, ham, and hard cheese. She had nothing more to say to Ragnar Strongspear. Finally she stood up and strode from the high board.

"Should I stop her, lord?" Harald asked nervously.

"Are the gates now secured?" Ragnar demanded sarcastically.

"Aye, lord!" Harald said.

"Then let her be, you fool. Where will she go that I cannot find her? She is, I suspect, about her daily duties, and nothing more."

Cailin was, but she also made the rounds of Cadda-wic reassuring each and every member of the household with her calm manner.

"What shall we do, my lady?" Albert asked her nervously. He was more than well aware how close to disaster he himself had come.

"Do not resist," she told him, as she had the others, "unless, of course, your very life is threatened. Go about your daily duties as you normally do. Wulf Ironfist will come soon, and he will drive Ragnar Strongspear back to his own lands. Do not fear. Nellwyn will raise the alarm, and Ragnar Strongspear's only advantage was in surprise. He no longer has that advantage."

Cailin moved on. In early afternoon she gathered the women about her, telling them, "I will not allow anyone to abuse you. Hide yourselves in the cellar beneath the largest grain barn. Do it as soon as you can, and remember to bring water skins. Do not come out until morning, when I shall come to fetch you. Hurry now!"

"But what of you, lady?" one of the serving women asked.

"I will not be harmed," Cailin assured them. She had already decided what she must do. If she could not deter Ragnar Strongspear from his lustful intent, then she must kill him.

Her breasts were beginning to ache dreadfully, and looking down, she grimaced with irritation. Her milk was beginning to leak through her nipples and stain her tunic dress. Royse last nursed in the early morning. Nellwyn would have found a nursing mother for him at Braleah, and Cailin knew she would have to do something to rid herself of her milk.

Cailin took bread from the bake house and a small cheese from the dairy. The servants would have put several pitchers of water in the solar, as was the usual practice. Entering the hall, Cailin saw that Ragnar Strongspear was not there. With a chuckle she climbed up to the solar and, pulling the ladder behind her, bolted the door fast. There was no other ladder available that would reach the chamber. She would be safe for a time. Removing her tunic dress, she sighed at the sight of her soaked camisa. She pulled it off, too, and then expressed the milk from her swollen breasts into an empty basin. Immediately she felt better, and washing herself off, she put on clean garments.

She could hear fresh activity in the hall below. She had given her menservants orders to serve the evening meal as usual, and deny the intruders nothing in the way of food and drink. She had to keep Ragnar Strongspear and his men as content as possible until Wulf Ironfist returned. Cailin had absolutely no doubt that her husband would come, and when he did, he would regain Cadda-wic. No one was going to take this land from her, from them. She had been born here, as had ten generations of her family. They would live on through her children. No one would take these lands from her again! Not Ragnar Strongspear. Not Antonia Porcius. No one.

"Lady? Are you in the solar?" She heard Ragnar Strongspear calling up to her. "Lady, I would have you join us at table. Come down."

"I am ill," Cailin answered him. "The excitement of today has been too much for me, Ragnar Strongspear. I must rest. It has been but a short time since I gave birth to my son. I am yet weak."

"You would feel better, lady, if you ate. It will help to build your strength up. Come down, my little fox vixen. I will feed you dainty morsels of meat from my own plate, and give you sweet wine to ease your distress," he told her in dulcet tones.

Cailin smothered her giggles. "I think not, Ragnar Strongspear. I am best left alone," she replied, and then made a series of rather convincing noises to give the impression that she was retching, and quite close to vomiting. "Ohhhh," she moaned, sounding quite desperate.

"Perhaps you are better alone," he agreed nervously, and she heard him hastily moving away from below the solar door. "I will see you tomorrow, lady."

Nothing, Cailin thought with a mischievous grin, discouraged a lustful man from his chosen path more than a woman threatening to disgorge the contents of her stomach in his lap. She tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and sliced a wedge of cheese off the piece she had taken. She washed them down with cool water from a pitcher, and then sat down to work her tapestry.

When the light had faded from the sky, so that she could no longer see what she was doing, Cailin sat quietly listening to the sounds from the hall below. The men were growing drunk. She could tell by the high hilarity, the laughter, and the singing. Occasionally she heard the sound of breaking crockery and was angered. It was difficult obtaining good Samienware now. Eventually, however, the din lessened, and finally the hall grew silent.

Satisfied that the intruders were sleeping a drunken sleep, Cailin arose and stretched. She was exhausted with the tension involved in keeping a step ahead of Ragnar Strongspear. With her very last bit of strength, she shoved two storage chests over the solar door for extra protection. The windows were much too narrow for anyone to get through. She wondered what had happened to Aelfa. The bitch would have been the only woman in evidence tonight. Cailin removed her tunic dress and lay down in her bed space. How long would it take Wulf to return? she wondered, and then fell into an uneasy sleep.

She awoke automatically, as she always did and, arising, went to the window to look out. The sky was already growing light, and she could see smoke coming from the bake house. Her breasts were full again, and she once more expressed her milk. Cailin splashed water on her face, relieved herself, and quickly dressed. Pushing the chests away from the solar door, she slipped the bolt silently. Opening the door, she lowered the ladder to climb down into the hall.

About her she observed Ragnar Strongspear and his men sprawled in their drunken slumber. There was absolutely no sign of Aelfa, but then the wench was no longer her concern. The hall was a shambles of overturned benches and tables, broken pottery and vomit. Cailin wrinkled her nose distastefully. The rushes would have to be changed immediately. The hall door had not been bolted, and so she slipped out into the courtyard. Although the gates were barred, she could see no one on duty.

Hurrying to the bake house, she entered and asked the baker, "Where are the men? There is no one in the yard."

"I do not know, lady," the baker replied nervously. "I have not left the bake house since the intruders came. I am safest here, I think."

"Aye," Cailin agreed, "you are. Do not fear, Wulf Ironfist will come soon, and then these men will be driven from Cadda-wic."

Cailin left the bake house and hurried to the storage barn. "Come out," she called to the women servants. "It is morning, and the invaders lie drunk in the hall. It is safe now."

The women climbed up from the cellar beneath the barn and stood before their mistress. She viewed them carefully. Two were young and very pretty. They were still apt to be in danger, but the others, older and plainer, would not be unless the men were very drunk and very randy. She sent the two pretty maids to the bake house.

"Tell the baker you are to remain with him. You should be safe if you stay there. If any of Ragnar Strongspear's men come in, keep your heads down, your eyes lowered, and if you must look up, twist your faces to look ugly. It may be your only protection. Go now. The yard is safe and empty. Our men seem to have disappeared."

The two girls ran off, and Cailin then told the remaining women, "Go about your duties as you normally would. If Wulf Ironfist does not come today, then you must hide here again tonight. I will not be able to come for you when the time is right. You must help yourselves. It is all I can do to stay out of Ragnar Strongspear's clutches."

The trespasser and his men finally awoke and stumbled from the hall to relieve themselves. Cailin and her women swept the hall free of debris and all signs of sickness. Fresh rushes were laid, mixed with fragrant herbs. The morning meal was served, but eaten by few before being cleared away.

Ragnar sat at the high board, a large goblet of wine gripped in his fist. "Where are your men?" he demanded of Cailin.

"I do not know," she said. "I thought, perhaps, that you had locked them up somewhere. When I awoke this morning, they were gone. If they knew a means of escape, I am angry at them that they did not take me with them," she concluded, and her irritated tone convinced him more than her words that she was speaking the truth.

He nodded. "Very well. I see your women have returned."

"I sent them into safe keeping for the night," Cailin answered tartly. "I will have no rape or abuse of the women in my charge. Where is Aelfa? I have not seen your niece all morning."

"She is to marry Harald at Lugh. They are probably somewhere making the beast with two backs. Aelfa is a very passionate girl."

"She has the morals of a mink," Cailin observed dryly.

"Aye, she does," Ragnar said with a hearty laugh. "I have warned Harald that she will make him a very bad wife, but he is determined to have her, so what can I do? My brother has given his permission for the marriage. I could not withhold mine."

The remainder of the day seemed to pass more slowly than any day she could remember. As the sun began to set, Cailin was pleased to see that the women had all disappeared once again. She hurried to reach the solar before Ragnar Strongspear could find and stop her. Her breasts were near to bursting with her milk, and it was already leaking through her clothing once more. Quickly climbing the ladder, she pulled it up behind her, closing and bolting the door. She shoved the clothing chests atop the door and sighed, relieved. Stripping off her garments, she reached for the basin and began to relieve herself of the pressure that was making her breasts ache so unbearably. Where was Wulf? If he didn't come soon, her milk would finally run dry. Then she would have to give her precious Royse to some other woman to nurse.

"What are you doing?"

The sound of Ragnar Strongspear's voice rendered her icy with fear. Her eyes widened as he climbed from her bed space. "How did you get in here?" she demanded. Her heart was beating wildly.

"I climbed the ladder," he said simply, and she silently cursed her stupidity that she had not hidden it. "What are you doing?" he repeated, his dark blue eyes sweeping admiringly over her lush form.

It was then Cailin recalled her state. She was naked before this man's eyes, but it was done and there was no helping it. "I must express the milk from my breasts," she said, "as my son is not here to take its nourishment." Her voice was cold and emotionless.

A slow smile lit his face, and moving to stand before her, he clamped his big hands about her waist. Lifting her up, he positioned her so that her breasts hung over his face. Then lowering her slightly, he began to suckle upon her.

It was to Cailin's mind as great a violation of her body as if he had raped her, which she knew he fully intended to do next. "Don't!" she cried out, anguished, but it was as if she had never spoken. She writhed desperately, but the mouth on her breast could not be dislodged.

When he had drained the first breast, he looked into her eyes with a smile. "I like the taste," he told her. "It is said that if a man takes the milk of his lover's breasts, he is rendered potent beyond any other man." Then his greedy mouth grasped her other breast and he began suckling hard on it. When he had taken every drop she had to give, he carried her to the bed space and threw her roughly upon the feather bed. She watched horrified as he pulled his clothing off to match her state. "I've never had a completely naked woman," he said.

Cailin attempted to escape the bed space. She was in a total panic. Ragnar laughed uproariously at her efforts. Holding her down with one hand, he climbed atop her, positioning himself upon her breasts. "Open your mouth," he commanded her, and when she shook her head, refusing, he pinched her nose tightly until, unable to breathe and starting to lose consciousness, Cailin gasped for air. As she did so, he thrust his organ into her mouth. "If you bite," he warned her, "I will have every tooth in your head pulled out," and she believed him. "Suckle me, my little fox vixen, as nicely as I suckled you," he ordered her.

She shook her head in the negative, but he only smiled, and reaching back, found her little jewel with his fingers and began to pinch it cruelly. Cailin cried out with the pain, and beaten, began to comply with his desire.

"Ahh, yes, my little fox vixen," he groaned as she stirred up his lust. "You're skilled beyond any I've ever known!" His eyes closed with his pleasure.

Cailin stealthily moved her arms back over her head even as she continued to tease her captor with her tongue. One hand began to surreptitiously feel beneath the feather bed in the straw. She moved carefully, slowly, terrified that she might attract his attention to what she was doing. Where was it? Had he found it himself?

"Enough!" roared Ragnar Strongspear, drawing his engorged organ from her mouth. "This randy fellow wants to seek his proper place!" He began to slide himself down her body so he might couple with her.

She couldn't find it! Cailin's fingers sought desperately. It had to be there! She must delay him in his intent. "Ohhh, my lord," she pleaded prettily with him, "Will you not give me a bit of the same pleasure I have given you? Ohh, please! I must have it!"

Laughter rumbled up from his chest. "Then you shall have your desire, my russet-haired little fox vixen! I will not disappoint you!" Yanking her legs apart, he almost dove between them.

Cailin attempted to block the feel of his wet tongue on her flesh. Frantic, she dug into the straw beneath the feather bed, and just when she was certain that he must have found it and removed it earlier, her hand was sliced slightly by the blade she sought. Relief pouring through her, Cailin grasped the weapon, ignoring the pain of her wound. "Ohhh! Ohhh!" she cried, remembering he would expect something of her for his obscene efforts. "Oh, it is good! I am ready for you, my lord!"

Wordless, Ragnar Strongspear positioned himself.

"Ohh, kiss me!" Cailin cried to him, and when he leaned forward to cover her mouth with his, she plunged her knife several times into his back. With a surprised grunt, he rolled off of her onto his back. He was wounded, but not mortally so, she saw. "Bitch!" he growled at her. "You'll pay for that!"

Cailin quickly straddled him, grasped his head by the hair, and yanking it back, swiftly cut Ragnar Strongspear's throat. The look of total amazement in his eyes faded so rapidly that she wasn't even certain she had actually seen it. She scrambled off of him and stood shivering, staring down at the dead man, not even sure he was really dead. She was afraid for a long moment that he would jump up, but no. He was dead. Very dead. She had killed Ragnar Strongspear. She had killed a man.

Cailin began to weep softly with relief. When at last her sobs subsided, she became aware of the fact that she was covered in blood. His blood. She shuddered with distaste, and forcing herself to function, moved across the solar, poured water into a basin and washed, washed, washed, until finally she was clean again. Being clean and having fresh garments seemed to help a little. She avoided looking across the room to the bed space where Ragnar Strongspear lay sprawled in a widening pool of his own blood. Instead she sat down by her loom, eventually dozing with exhaustion, until the birds, twittering excitedly in the predawn, roused her. Starting awake, Cailin remembered what had happened the previous night.

What was she going to do? When Ragnar's men discovered that she had killed their master, and they certainly would, they would kill her. She would never see Wulf and their children again. Nervous tears began to slide down her pale cheeks. No! She would not allow herself to be slaughtered like a frightened rabbit.

Perhaps she could escape Cadda-wic before Ragnar's body was discovered. It was very early, and no one was stirring in the hall. She could climb down, and then she would hide the ladder to the solar. Everyone would assume Ragnar was sleeping off the excesses of his night's sport. She would rouse the other women, and together they would all slip through the gates on one pretext or another.

No! It simply wouldn't work. There were too many of them not to seem suspicious. She couldn't leave the other women behind to face the violent wrath of Ragnar Strongspear's men. She would go and fetch the two girls hidden in the bake house. They would join the other women beneath the grain storage barn. Yes! That was a far better plan. No one would find them there, and surely Wulf would come soon.

Cailin pushed the chests from atop the door and, sliding the bolt, opened it, and lowered the ladder before her. Drawing the door softly shut after her, she swiftly descended into the hall. Where would she hide the ladder? Cailin wondered. She would throw it down the well! She could never go back into the solar again. Not after what had happened to her there last night. A hand fell heavily upon her shoulder, and unable to help herself, Cailin screamed softly with her terror.

"Lambkin! It is I."

She whirled, heart pounding, and Wulf Ironfist stood before her. Beyond them in the hall, Ragnar Strongspear's men stood shackled and surrounded by their own people. "Ohh, Wulf," she sobbed, collapsing with relief into his arms. After a moment she stiffened and, pulling away from him, she queried, "How did you get into Cadda-wic? Were the walls not manned by Ragnar Strongspear's men?"

"We got in the same way our men got out the other night. There is a small trapdoor in one of the gatehouses. It leads to a narrow tunnel beneath our defenses, lambkin. I sent Corio back for the men. They departed the other night by means of that tunnel. Then they told me in detail of Ragnar Strongspear's defenses. We returned this dawning the same way and took back Cadda-wic."

"Why did I not know of this tunnel?" Cailin demanded, outraged. "I had to hide our women in the cellar beneath the grain barns to keep them safe from these intruders. Why was I not told of it?"

"Corio sent Albert to look for you, lambkin, but you had disappeared. Albert had no choice but to go with the others," Wulf explained, but Cailin would not have any of it.

"He might have told one of the women," she insisted, forgetting that she herself had hidden the women away for safety's sake. "I had to barricade myself in the solar to escape the unpleasant attentions of Ragnar Strongspear. Would you have had me wandering the hall, playing the gracious hostess to that savage pig?" She was furious.

"But you did not escape my uncle last night," Aelfa said meanly, coming forward, a nasty smile upon her beautiful face. "You look quite well, considering the active night you must have had beneath my uncle."

"I will kill him if he has touched you!" Wulf Ironfist said angrily.

"I already have," Cailin told him bluntly, and Aelfa grew pale at her words. "He did not rape me, my lord, though he sought to do so."

"How could you have killed so large a man, lambkin?" her husband gently inquired. Was she truly all right? he wondered.

"I slit his throat," Cailin said tonelessly.

"With what?" he asked. The gods! She was so pale.

"The voice within would not stop nagging at me," she began. "I do not know why I did it, but when you departed to visit our villages, I put a knife beneath the feather bed in our bed space. When he climbed atop me, I found it and I killed him. There was so much blood, Wulf! I can never sleep in that solar again. Ever?'' She began to weep.

He comforted her as best he could, and when she had ceased to sob, he told her, "I have much news, lambkin, and it is good." Then seeing the darkling stain spreading across her tunic dress, he cried out, "Lambkin, are you injured?"

Cailin looked down and laughed weakly. "I need Royse," she said. "My breasts are overflowing with my milk."

"Nellwyn will have him here shortly," he promised her, and put a loving arm about her. "Aurora too."

"How devoted you are to each other," Aelfa sneered, "but what is to become of us, I should like to know?"

"Her memory has returned, I take it," Wulf said with a small attempt at humor. They walked into the hall and seated themselves at the high board. Aelfa followed, but positioned herself next to Harald.

"She never lost her memory," Cailin told him. "Let me tell you a story that I learned as a child. In ancient times a Grecian king named Menelaeus had a beautiful queen who was called Helen. The king was old, but he loved his wife. The queen, however, was young, and she fell in love with a handsome youth, Paris. They fled to his father's city of Troy. A war between Troy and several powerful Grecian states erupted over the insult to Menelaeus and his efforts to regain Helen, the beauteous queen.

"Troy, however, was considered impregnable. Enormous high walls surrounded it. There was a goodly supply of fresh water and food. For many years the Greeks besieged it, but they could not take the city. Finally they agreed to cease their war with Troy, and as a gesture of peace, the departing Greek armies left a magnificent large, carved, and decorated horse on wheels behind for the Trojans. The citizens of Troy opened their gates and brought the horse into the city. All day they celebrated their victory over Menelaeus and his allies.

"In the dark of the night, when all lay sleeping, the Greek army, which had secreted itself within the belly of the Trojan horse, came forth and took the city of Troy, showing no mercy. All were killed, and the city destroyed.

"Aelfa was Ragnar Strongspear's Trojan horse. She allowed herself to be beaten, and she pretended to have no knowledge of herself but her name, so that she might gain our sympathies. Then she set about to fascinate and lure both our gatekeepers because she could not be certain which one of them would be on duty the night she intended to let her uncle and his men into Cadda-wic."

"Albert and Bran-hard told me what happened," Wulf said. "I have forgiven them both. They have learned a valuable lesson by this." He looked out over the hall at Ragnar's men. "Now I must decide what to do with these men. Shall I kill them, or show mercy?"

"Mercy, lord!" the men cried with one voice. "Mercy!"

Cailin leaned over and whispered to her husband. "Ragnar's brother, Gunnar, will think to profit from his brother's death; but his daughter, Aelfa, is, I think, ambitious. She will want her uncle's lands for Harald, who is to be her husband. Is there not some way in which we might set these men against each other? If they are busy battling one another, they will not have time to bother with us, my lord. And let us not forget our old friend Antonia Porcius. Those lands were hers before Ragnar Strongspear stormed across them. I do not think Antonia is ready to let go of her dreams for Quintus, the younger, yet."

Wulf grinned at his wife. "Truly Flavius Aspar and Byzantium lost a valuable strategist in you, lambkin." Then he turned to his prisoners, his look fierce. "Ragnar Strongspear is dead," he told them. "Harald Swiftsword, will you swear fealty to me? If you do, I will not oppose your taking of Ragnar Strongspear's lands. You are, I think, your master's natural heir. His sons are too young to be strong neighbors."

"What of my father?" Aelfa demanded. "He is Ragnar's brother. Should he not inherit my uncle's lands?"

"Why would you want your father to have what your husband could have, Aelfa Gunnarsdottar? If Harald does not claim Ragnar Strongspear's lands for himself, he will never have anything of his own. If he is strong enough to hold them against your father, why should you mind? Do you not desire to be a great lady?"

"I am strong enough to hold those lands for myself," Harald bragged loudly, and turned to the other men. "Are you with me?" he demanded, and they cried their assent. Harald turned back to Wulf Ironfist. "Then I will swear to be your man, my lord, and keep the peace between us. Aelfa, what say you?"

"Yes!" she said. "It was decided long ago between us, Harald, and if I would take you landless, I would certainly not reject you when you are about to become a great and propertied lord."

"Then," said Wulf Ironfist, "I will free you all!" and they cheered him loudly.

Ale was brought, and a toast drunk to the peace between Wulf Ironfist and Harald Swiftsword. Then they prepared to march from the hall, but Wulf took Harald aside and told him, "Beware of the lady Antonia. The lands you now claim were her family's lands for many generations. Perhaps you might take her as a second wife to keep her from another man who might attempt to gain those lands through the woman."

"I thank you for the advice," Harald replied. "It might not be such a bad idea. Ragnar always said she was bad-tempered, but the best fuck he had ever had in his life. Under the circumstances I must either wed her or kill her. I'll think on it."

"Best to marry her," Wulf said. "She and Aelfa will battle each other constantly, and consequently keep out of your business."

Harald laughed. "Perhaps you are right," he said slowly. "Yes! I know you are!"

When they were gone, and the morning was beginning to take on a more normal tone, Wulf took his wife by the hand and led her out into the summer sunlight. They strolled together amid the ripening grain.

"This incident has made me realize that we cannot remain at Cadda-wic," he told her. "It is too prone to attack here in its narrow valley. The hills press too closely about us. We cannot see our enemy until they are almost upon us. I have ordered a new hall to be built at Brand-dun for us. It sits upon a hill, and we cannot be taken unawares by an enemy. We will continue to farm these fields and tend to the orchards that once belonged to your family, but we will no longer live here, lambkin. Will you mind very much?"

Cailin shook her head. "No," she told him. "Though I have many happy memories of the house in which I grew up, it is gone. The earth is drenched with my family's blood, and now the blood of Ragnar Strongspear as well. I do not think I could remain here even if you wanted me to, my lord."

He nodded with understanding, and she continued, "In my childhood the roads that the Romans built to connect the towns they erected in Britain became unsafe. There was a time, not in my memory, but surely in my father's memory, when those roads were safe; but then the legions left, and with them the way of life we had known for centuries departed as well. No one would have dared to attack the estate of Gaius Drusus Corinium or Anthony Porcius in that faded past. Times are different now, Wulf, and your people are a different people. To survive we must change, and I think we can do so without sacrificing the values that we hold dear. You are not like Ragnar Strongspear or Harald Swiftsword. You are a different kind of Saxon. Your feet, like mine, are not mired in the intractable past. You, too, dream of a future that cannot even be imagined by most. I will gladly go with you to Brand-dun! There is nothing left for us here at Cadda-wic but memories. I will discard the bad ones and leave them behind. The good ones I will carry in my heart always. Ohh Wulf! We almost lost each other once, but the gods ruled that we should be reunited to love again. I am so happy!"

"Mama! Mama!" Aurora came running through the fields toward them, her silky golden hair flying, her little legs pumping for all they were worth. "Mama!" Behind her Nellwyn came, carrying Royse.

Cailin swept her daughter up into her arms and covered the child's face with kisses. "I missed you, my darling," she told her daughter. "Did you miss Mama?"

"Are the bad men gone, Mama?" Aurora asked nervously.

"They are gone forever, and will never come back, I promise you, my daughter," Cailin answered the child, hugging her.

"When shall we leave for Brand-dun?" Wulf asked his wife, his heart full with his love for this brave woman who was his mate.

"Today!" Cailin said. "Have our men take our things from the hall. We will burn what we can of it, and tear down what is left. It is finished."

"Where are we going?" Nellwyn asked as she came abreast of them.

Cailin took Royse from her servant, praising her bravery. Then as she sat down upon the ground and put her son to her aching breasts, Wulf explained to Nellwyn what had been decided. When he had finished, and while Royse suckled greedily, Cailin said to her husband, "Nellwyn must have a husband. She desires Albert. Will you arrange it, my lord?"

"I will," he said, "and gladly! Your loyalty saved our children's lives, Nellwyn. It is little enough repayment. Albert is a very lucky fellow, and I shall tell him so."

Wulf gave the order to empty the hall of their possessions, and as it was being done, he climbed to the solar. Ragnar Strongspear lay spread upon his back, naked, and as white as a fish's belly. There seemed to be blood everywhere. Gingerly, Wulf pulled the man's head back, for it had fallen upon his chest. His eyes were wide and sightless, and there was a look of surprise on his face. The gaping wound shocked him. Ragnar Strongspear's throat was deeply slashed from ear to ear. How had she done it? His delicate lambkin did not seem capable of such a savage act, but he could not deny the evidence of his own eyes. It was certainly a most mortal wound, and hardly the sort of death a man would want to face. At best, a man died in battle. At worst, of old age in his bed. To die at the hands of a frail woman was shameful. There would be no Valhalla for Ragnar Strongspear. He would likely haunt this place forever. Cailin had been correct. They could hardly sleep and make love in the place where Ragnar had attempted to rape her, and where she had killed him.

"Is the hall cleared yet?" he called down.

"Aye, my lord," a voice answered him. "We are ready to fire it."

"Hand me up a torch," Wulf Ironside said. "We will start here." When the torch was given to him, he set fire to the bed space where Ragnar Strongspear lay. Then tossing the torch aside, he climbed down into the hall and directed his men to set the rest of the building alight.

He exited the burning hall, to find Cailin awaiting him, already mounted upon her mare. Aurora was seated before her mother, and Nellwyn was settled in the cart, Royse in her arms. He looked at his wife, and their eyes met in silent understanding. He looked at his children and smiled. Aurora and Royse and the children who would come after them were a bright future. He no longer feared a dark destiny. Whatever happened, the years ahead would be golden with their love and the hope of a better world to come.

Mounting his stallion, Wulf Ironfist smiled at his wife, and Cailin smiled back at him. With his love to sustain her, she thought, she could face any obstacle and overcome it. "I love you," she said softly, and was thrilled when he responded, "I love you, too, lambkin." Together they rode away from the bleak past and into a shining tomorrow.