[Reviews - 660]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2810 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
thanks as always to my beta. Hrolf, who tames the puncuation monster for me, and turns my scribbles into English.
Thanks as well to those who have reviewed. It means such a lot to me to get them.
William felt sore, they had been travelling for three days, Faith sitting with Xander in the wagon; they had laughed, sang, chatted, played games, told riddles, anything to make the time pass faster, but it had still been three days travelling, and he wasn’t used to riding that much. The saddle was beautifully made, high enough front and back to support him, but after three days parts of his anatomy were sore!!.

Every short while one of the men would sound out his horn, a long clear note to let all know they were there, they were travelling openly and wanted no mistakes about their purpose. True travellers sounded the horn. The road they were taking seemed well used. There were even clearings available for them to set up camp at night. It was obvious from the speed the camp appeared that they were used to their places and jobs. William tried to help but it seemed that he just got in the way, he could however fetch water and help with the horses, but that was about all, so well organised was everyone else.

The three women shared the smaller tent, the men either on guard duty or sleeping in the larger tent with swords close at hand. Although they were under the peace of the Thing as they travelled, they were neither stupid nor foolhardy. William was allowed to take his turn at guard, for which he was grateful. He spent a few hours sitting by the small fire, feeding it dry wood and listening out for anything that seemed odd. The noises of the night didn’t worry him or Sven, the other man on duty; it was the quiet that was the danger, quiet that said a predator was amongst them, whether animal or human.

One of the funniest things William had seen was the desperation on everyone’s face the first night when Buffy had offered to cook. Xander had actually gone white: so had Faith. Olaf looked as though a demon were after him and Connor had started shaking. They had politely but forcefully declined her kind offer and suggested that she go and help gather firewood from the forest they had been travelling through. William heard her moans and complaints from where he was attending to the fire.

‘What was that about?’ he asked.

Xander looked at him, and grinned. ‘Under no circumstance EVER let Buffy cook, she manages to burn everything she touches. She even burnt down the bake house once.’

Buffy shouted something unintelligible at them but she was smiling. She had other talents, and anyway, cooking was for others.

Faith had been made to rest on a log near by the first night and was watching him from under her dark and soulful eyes. Her arm was still supported by a sling. She had been given a small bag of something by Willow to ease any pain she might feel. Faith eased the arm in its sling: even without riding the travelling was hard on her body. She was one of those that gave away little, not sly but wary and careful. Life had been hard to the pretty, no, beautiful woman.

‘What do you see in my sister, Saxon? Bed sport to keep you busy until you go home to your lady love perhaps?’ Her tone was light but William could feel the strength in her voice.

‘I have no lady waiting for me my Lady, other than my mother, and I do not trifle with Buffy. She is something very special.’

‘Good. I would hate to have to kill you for some reason,’ she added with a grim smile.

William shuddered. He knew she wasn't joking. The frightened woman who had appeared at the hall just a few short weeks ago was fading fast; in her place was a dark haired scary version of Buffy. William thought back to the arrow shot that had killed Bjorn. He was glad he was a friend to these women and not an enemy, not yet at least. Things would change when he went home, of course. Then he would be another Saxon. He hoped he would never come up against the folk he had met while he had been here. He did not know in all honesty if he could kill Connor or Xander now.

It started raining the next morning, a slow steady rain that soaked everything. William was very grateful for the thick, heavy cloak that he had been given. Two days of solid rain left the path muddy and hard going for the waggon. But they travelled on. The day was punctuated by the sound of the blowing horn announcing their presence to all, and of laughter. William didn’t think he had ever heard so much laughter.

It was already coming to late afternoon before they spied the great clearing where the Thing would be held. Connor sounded his horn loud and long, the others joining in, ensuring that they weren't seen as unexpected guests. A slave, short hair and iron collar denoting his status, ran up to them and pointed their caravan in the direction of a clearing that had been set aside. There was a pile of wood to one side and a barrel of what appeared to be ale waiting for them.

When they had settled the horses, the men set up the tents. There were stone and turf walls ready to take the temporary roof of a sail, making two halls, one large and one small. The smaller one would be used for storage and the larger for sleeping in. The fire was soon alight and warmth spread along the ground. The wood was good dry ash, which burnt with a warm flame and little smoke. What fascinated William the most though were the huge tents in the central camping area. They were made from two triangles of wood, one at each end and connected by three long poles, with a huge woollen sheet across them. William watched as five men lifted one of the long poles between them and walked towards the centre of the tent, lifting the roof high as they went. When it was up, William saw it was as big as some halls, easily sleeping 40 or so men. Servants rushed around; a brazier was lit and tables set out inside: a Kings Hall indeed.

William watched everything with wonder. It was so different from the staid and settled meetings he’d been to when he was younger. There was a vibrancy and excitement in the air.

He looked warily towards three men as they walked towards their camp. Buffy, Faith and Helga had vanished off towards the bustle of what appeared to be a market. They would return with food and drink for the whole of their little camp, freshly made and sold for the convenience of those travelling into the Thing.

‘Connor, incoming!’ he called when it was obvious the men were headed in their direction. Connor turned to see who was headed towards them.
He waved his hand and made his way to the strangers.

‘Halfdan, Leif and Skapti, it is good to see you again.’

‘Connor, it’s a surprise to see you, normally Buffy comes. How on earth did she manage to persuade you to leave riding your sea-mistress and come to The Thing?’ One of them replied as they gripped Connor’s forearm in welcome.

William could see all three men were seasoned warriors, intelligent and watchful. They noticed all the men, counted the number with Connor and one had his eyes straight into William’s soul.

Connor laughed. ‘Leif, we will have to discuss it at the Open Thing, but I have reason to be here this time.’

He one he’d called Leif nodded, then looked across at William. ‘Who’s the stranger?’

‘William of Wessex, he’s staying with us until his and his cousin’s ransoms are paid.’

Leif nodded and accepted what had been said. He looked at William. William felt
the authority coming from the man and bowed as he would at court.

‘You will stand guarantor for his behaviour here?’ One of the other men asked.

‘I will, Skapti.’

‘Is Buffy with you?’ asked the third man, looking around their camp. There was a look in his eyes that disquieted William’s soul. He worked out that he must be Halfdan: he’d heard that name before.

‘Yes, and Helga and Faith.’

‘Faith?!’ he exploded with a laugh. ‘What’s she doing here? I didn’t think she would want to come to The Thing again after last time.’

‘She had to come.’ Connor looked at the men; understanding seemed to pass between them.

‘Where are they now, then?’

‘Shopping, in fact...’ The men turned to see the three women being followed by a couple of serfs carrying baskets and cooking pots: iron pots that looked hot. The woman had their arms holding woven bags that were full of bread.

‘Food’s arrived!’ Faith called. Then yelled, ‘Hafdan!’ at the top of her voice. Buffy’s head snapped round from where she was talking to Xander to see the tall brunette and her face lit up with a lovely smile. William felt his heart clench a little and he stepped back to see how Buffy would greet these strangers.

Faith and Buffy handed their bags over to Xander and lifted their skirts as they ran towards the visitors. Hafdan started laughing. ‘Have they ever grown up?’ He commented to Connor.

‘Not that we’ve noticed,’ Connor grinned back.

Both Faith and Buffy came to a skidding stop and dropped into deep curtseys.
‘Jarl Leif , Hauldr Hafdan, Speaker Skapti,’ Buffy said. All three men bowed their heads.

‘Lady Elizabeth, you grace our poor presence with your beauty and life. My Lady Faith, it pleases old eyes to see such loveliness,’ Leif said. There was mischief in his look, though. William took another pace forward, ready to defend Buffy if needed, though what he could do against three armed and armoured warriors he was unsure. He was in an unknown world that was confusing him and it was daunting him.

Buffy smiled and then started laughing. ‘You’ve been practising your flattery, and don’t let your wife hear you, she’d have my head.’

Faith just laughed at him, but it was a joyful laugh and good to hear from her. Then both women hugged Jarl Leif, holding close to his chest. The giant of a man, he must have been over 6 foot, wrapped two great arms around the women and pulled them in for a cuddle. William felt something break in his heart. Maybe Buffy was one who would share her favours with many men.

Buffy looked up at Jarl Leif and pulled his head down to kiss him on the cheek. ‘There is someone I want you to meet,’ she said with a smile, her eyes sparkling and dancing.
William had turned away to go back to their shelter: he didn’t want to see his Buffy in the arms of another man.

Buffy looked around for William, and saw him rushing away. She looked up at the sky and hoped at least one of the Gods would give her strength: what had made him run away this time? She left Faith to continue cuddling the Jarl, not that either of them minded, and hurried after William. She finally caught up with him at the doorway to their temporary hall.

‘What is it William, why did you hurry off like that?’

'What do you care? Why don’t you go back to your honey bun,’ he snapped.

Whatever reaction William expected, laughter wasn’t it. Outrage, indignation yes, but not laughter.

'William, would you please come and be introduced to my friends?’ When she put it like that he couldn’t say no, after the kindnesses and joy she’d shown him. He would face the man that was his rival for her heart.

'Do you love the Jarl? I saw how you greeted him,’ he snapped at her, his anger making his blue eyes stormy but his heart breaking.

‘I love him dearly and have for years,’ she answered. William failed to see the mischief in her eyes as she led him back, nearly dragging him by the hand. Connor raised an eyebrow at the sight of his mother and her love.

‘Jarl Leif, this is William of Wessex: he’s a guest in our hall.’ William bowed again to the man. ‘William, this is Jarl Leif, brother to the king and my uncle who was foster father to me for some years when I was little.’

Uncle!! William felt such a fool. Buffy wasn’t like Harmony, fluttering her eyes at every man who looked at her. He should have had more faith in her: he should have trusted her.

The Jarl was holding out his right hand, a warrior’s shake. He grasped William’s forearm and looked at the man who had caused his beloved niece to blush so prettily.

‘You are welcome here, William. Connor has stood surety for you. Now niece, would you and Faith and Connor do me the honour of dining in my hall tonight?'

Buffy's eyes went to William and then back to her uncle. Leif was not stupid, he noticed the way his niece looked at the Saxon. ‘Of course, William as well.'

‘We would be delighted.' Connor answered for all of them. ‘We will be with you soon after dark.’

Buffy turned to the other two men and curtseyed. 'Tonight, then.'
William and Connor followed the women back to their shelter and grabbed some of the fresh baked bread Xander had saved. It took the edge off their hunger, and they stood well back as Faith and Buffy prepared themselves for a night in the Jarls hall.

William looked at the tunic in his pack: it was clean but nothing special. He didn't want to let either Connor or Buffy down, but he had nothing else. He shrugged off the dirty over and under tunics he’d worn for the journey. Helga and Olaf had brought warm water for them to wash down the mud and dirt, it was surprising how quickly he’d gotten used to washing his body. The cloth felt cool over his skin, but the mud soon came off and he splashed his face before rubbing that as well. The fire in their temporary hall had warmed the air, but he still got a few goosebumps. He turned to watch Buffy, her hair glinting in the light from the fire and candles; she had opened up her pack and pulled out a pleated linen underdress in the most wonderful green that matched her eyes. She slipped on an overdress, a full hangerock, in deep green, a double-dye that would have cost his mother a full year's clothing allowance. The brooches she normally wore were put aside in favour of a pair of silver-gilt ones and the beads hanging between them were of glass and amber, expensive beyond belief. Then she added a third string of beads, blue lapis. William had finally seen enough, that string of beads alone would pay for a huge estate, hall and all, at home. Just how rich was this woman, he wondered, shaking his head.

Connor looked at William, he seemed uncomfortable again. What had discomforted his friend this time? Then he caught himself: his friend? He would have to think about that at a later time.

‘What is it, William? You have that haunted look again and I haven’t seen it for a while.'

‘Just how rich is Buffy? That lapis alone would pay my and Tara's ransoms a dozen times over!’

‘Very rich: she is the daughter of one Jarl, niece to another, close cousin to the King. Her dowry is enough to make any woman jealous; if a man were to claim her he would be rich beyond his dreams, rich enough to equal anyone, even Wessex or Mercia.’

Buffy looked at William, she had felt his eyes on her. He was everything that she could have dreamt of, and she knew he loved her for her and not the money she would bring if only he were Norse. She looked at the clothes he had set out on the bed. Since he'd come to her hall he had nothing but second hand clothes, save the shirt she'd given him at midwinter. Perhaps now was a good time to give him her gift. She had been hiding her work, well, Olga's work, for weeks.

‘William, I have something for you,' she said as she braided up her hair and added a fillet of silver to her head. She handed over a soft pack. William opened it up to find a fine set of clothes. New trews, an undershirt of the long Norse style and a fine woollen overshirt, with the finest tablet weave that William had ever seen.

‘A fine set of clothes proper for a Jarls hall. They’re yours, not a loan,’ she smiled. She added a leather belt, finely worked and painted, alien to his eyes but beautiful. She then added a small sheath knife.

‘I know you're not supposed to be armed, but you will need a knife for eating with and I didn't want you to have to ask,’ she added.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, gently kissing her mouth.

How could he ever have doubted her? He fingered the fine linen and wool: his mother would love such cloth. William hoped that his brothers were looking after her, he missed her soft wisdom and wished that he could talk to her. He went outside and washed his hair in the last of the warm water before he shamed himself with tears. He could see other caravans arriving, the Lawspeaker and the Reeve welcoming in various men to the Thing. Their camp seemed to be the only one with women in it. He hoped they would be safe, then laughed at his own thoughts. Buffy and Faith were raised together, and she had killed 11 men in the last year, and she was related to the Jarl. God help any that stood in her way, and now that Faith had the backing of her family and had food in her stomach she was Buffy's equal. Helga had her husband by her side. They would be safe; now if only he would be…

Buffy and Faith emerged from under the sail cloth roof of their hall. Connor followed close behind. William hurried back in to dress. He missed the feel of a sword on his hip on days like this, but noticed that Connor carried no weapon. In fact the only sharp blade any of them had were eating knives, Connor's hanging from his belt in a fine scabbard and the women's on chains from their brooches. Buffy looked like a queen and she and Faith made an incredible sight, one dark, the other fair, and each as regal as the other.

They made their way across the torchlit grounds to the massive tent in the centre. William felt like a Lord again, a man. Connor treated him far better than any of his brothers ever had, and Buffy had truly stolen his heart.





You must login (register) to review.