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

Has been viewed 2647 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
There are two main A/n's quays... there are a lot of discussions as to whether or not Vikings ad em. I'm going with the yes camp cause i like the imagery!!


Secondly...I know this is a spuffy site, and this is not the end of the story, I love reviews, they really make me type faster, but I will not appreciate rudeness about how this chapter ends.
heavy on the angst
The morning saw rain come to the hall and the lands around it. The water fell heavily and looked like it was set in for the day. Anyone who entered looked like they’d taken a bath with their clothes on, and wet cloaks dripped from the pegs where they were hung, making little rivulets running towards the doorway. Buffy still insisted that water was heated for the visitors to wash themselves and the women folk were kept busy all morning running hither and thither attending to all the men in their hall. Anya and Willow had organised Andrew and Jon to fetch and carry out in the rain. They would be allowed to bathe when everyone else had finished. A sick thrall was of no use to anyone.

Connor and Eirik sat on the side of his shut bed, the doors wide open as they attempted to keep out of everyone’s way. The hall was a dangerous place to be with the hustle and bustle. It looked like a market place in full swing.


There was a ship to ready for its spring sailing, a hall to manage… Faith’s children were looking fit and healthy but were underfoot everywhere it seemed.

It astounded William to see how much patience everyone had with the little ones. Their questions were always answered and when the little girl, Inga, got tired she just climbed into the nearest lap and fell asleep. It was incongruous to see hardened warriors capable of great cruelty, like Connor and Eirik, lower their voices so as to not awaken a girl child who was sleeping quietly, peacefully, in their arms.

William went back to helping lift the great cauldron onto the fire. Andrew had kept it hot all morning and the men had finally cleaned themselves and their clothes. They had made their way to the great tent that had been put up in the pale and settled in for a days’ games; Connor and Eirik just talked quietly, catching up on friends and relatives. Connor signalled William over.

‘Feeling better after last night’s news?’

‘I am, but Tara was shocked. I can’t believe her father refused to pay: well maybe I can. He was always a heartless bastard and Tara is one of three girls he would have to find dowries for.’

‘He has offered me 20 shillings in silver if I see her blood spilt. Those were his exact words, her blood spilt,’ Eirik said quietly. He didn’t want the woman to realise just how heartless her family had been.

‘So I have an idea,’ Connor said with a grin. ‘William, you know how I feel about your cousin?’ William nodded slowly, waiting to hear what Connor would add to that statement.

‘And, well, it’s not made any easier by hearing her and Willow at night, so I am offering to spill her blood.’ William started to protest but something about the way Connor had said it made him look twice at his host and captor.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if she and Willow are agreeable, I will offer for them both: marry them, good and proper. That way I get to spill Tara’s blood alright, I’ll spill it onto the bed linen on the wedding night!’

William allowed the words to settle into his brain and then started laughing. Connor’s smile was infectious and Eirik was laughing out loud.

‘When I return you, we can truly say that plans were being made for her blood letting, it will be no lie…’

‘But what about her dowry? You would be entitled to quite a bit.’

‘I will get it, I would take her without dowry happily, but that would upset Tara, I think. She would feel inferior for not having brought something to her husband’s hall. So, the reward money I was going to give you for your eye can be added to what her father has offered for the blood letting. And her skills as a healer are valuable: that would make a fair dowry when added together for a second wife. I would take care of her, William: she would be equal to Willow.’

‘You poor man,’ Eirik added, ‘one wife nags enough, why would you want two?’

Connor grinned again, making him look about fifteen summers. ‘Ah yes,’ he said, ‘but the nights would be worth it.’

‘She’s my cousin,’ William spoke quietly, ‘and according to our law she should have a male relative agree such a contract. What would she get if the marriage didn’t work? If you divorced her she would have no family to turn to, and if she were widowed where would she go?’

‘We could find a family willing to speak for her: I bet Buffy would, or Faith, and I will write my will now if that is what you want, make sure she is well cared for should I go the way of the warrior.’

‘That would be acceptable.’ William was actually shaking. He didn’t want to push his luck, and Tara had to be cared for. He had learned that these were honourable folk who would keep their oaths, but Tara needed to be protected and he wouldn’t be here. The thought made his heart grow cold. He had to return home, his place in Connor’s hall taken by his fair cousin, and he would away back to his brothers and mother. At least she would be pleased to see him - he hoped.

‘What would she expect for a morning gift?’ Connor asked William suddenly. William looked confused. ‘A morning gift?’

‘Yes, the morning after she gifts her maidenhead to her husband, it’s traditional to give the bride a replacement of equal value. Jewellery, silver, land? What would Tara expect?’

‘Nothing,’ he blurted out, ‘the bride may get a small piece of jewellery from her husband as a wedding gift, but her virginity is his to take, she has no say in that.’ William blushed, this was his cousin they were discussing after all. Eirik and Connor looked horrified.

‘No wonder Ingimund’s men are having such success with the local girls!’ Eirik laughed. ‘The Saxon women are all over the Norse every time they go into market, and there have been some marriages across the lines.’

‘Well if she’s not expecting anything I will have the silver smith make her and Willow a matched pair of brooches for their hangerocks, silver gilt and a good 8 ounces each. That should be enough to keep me in their sweet words.’



Tara and Willow watched the men talking and giggled to themselves. Did Connor really think he was being subtle? The glances and looks they had been getting all morning had been enough to let both healers know what was happening. Tara was glad that William had stepped up to represent her, she knew that she couldn’t have the sort of wedding she’d been expecting, but at least she would be cared for.

‘Willow, what about a priest? Who will speak the words that make us married?’

‘We speak them ourselves, on an armring held by the Jarl. Leif will most probably come for Connor’s wedding, and the party will last for days. One of the nights he will bed us and after that we are married. Isn’t it like that for you?’

‘No, a priest speaks the words of marriage over us, and binds us as husband and wife, then there is a meal and a bedding, it’s done in the man’s hall normally.’

‘Well at least that bit is the same.’ Willow stated and then continued to watch the men. They looked as though their drinks were getting empty. She picked up the empty jug and refilled it from the cask set up on its stand near the door, then made her way over to where the men were talking and started refilling their cups. William smiled up at her and Connor looked her straight in the eye. ‘Willow, we need to talk: you, me and Tara.’

‘About time too,’ Willow said with a smile.

William and Eirik took it as their cue to move away and Connor and Willow were soon joined by a blushing but excited Tara.

‘When would the marriage be?’ William asked Eirik, ‘what’s normal for your people?’

‘Unless there is reason to hurry, I would think that Connor and Willow will set it for the autumn when he returns from his voyage. It will give the hall time to prepare the food and ale, and the women time to embroider dresses for themselves. What is it you really want to know, William? You wouldn’t be talking to me unless you have a question.’

‘Harmony, what happened to her?’

‘That one, she was trouble from the moment she got onto the boat. Her mouth just did not stop, we sold her on in Mann: she fetched a good price and went to a hall where there were a few women and a lot of men. She seemed happy enough to be off the boat; if she keeps her head, she’ll live.’

It was the most that William could hope for. At least if anyone asked him when he went home he could answer honestly.

That night the Hall celebrated the announcement of Connor’s wedding to Tara and Willow.

Buffy was happy for them. She could leave the hall with a good conscience and manage her own lands. But first there was a ship to ready, and a summer to prepare for. She kept herself busy, not wanting to count the days until Connor’s ship left with William aboard.
Her days were filled with work and her nights filled with William. There wasn’t a night left to them that they didn’t share the joys of the bed. They clung to every moment they had together, getting quieter as the leaving day approached, just being together.

William worked with the men to ready the ship. She was hauled into the water, after seams had been caulked and ropes checked. The sun compass was checked against the sun’s course across the bay, ready for the crossing to Shetland and Hrossey. Provsions were stored, water barrels readied, fresh ale prepared, salt pork and hard bread, oats and dried beans barrelled up and loaded; salt and spices were bagged up and put into a chest ready to go aboard. The older of the chickens were sorted and penned ready to go into their baskets. Sheepskins were aired and leather sleeping bags checked over and waterproofed with grease. Buffy found Angel’s old one and sorted it ready for William. She made him a new set of clothes to take with him as well. She had also packed him a sack of gifts for Connor to give him when they arrived at their destination: not before, she didn’t want him refusing them. The book William had said was valuable, a silver cross she’d bought at the market for him, and a string of beads for his mother. She hoped he liked them.

Connor sorted the trade goods. They had a fine cargo of timber as well as the spices and silk he had collected last year. When he’d dropped off William he was hoping to go through to Waterford and trade with the Hiberno-Norse who lived there, then on to the Franks and back up the coast home. Home to a wedding and two wives, and no Buffy. She would be coming for the party but she had her own hall to care for.


Faith watched all the arrangements. She had regained her strength and the strapping was off her arm. Her children were growing like weeds, and she was filling out. She felt the strength return to her limbs and to her mind. When she thought about how weak she had become she couldn’t believe it. But no more. She owed Connor and Buffy in a big way, and she would pay that debt, but she wouldn’t be pushed around by any one any more. She watched as Buffy and William worked. They couldn’t keep their eyes, or hands, off each other if the noise last night was anything to go by.

Buffy would have her love and respect but there would be no quarter given to the wastrels and weaklings on her own land. Robin would be with her soon and they would leave the same day as William and Connor. No long goodbyes, no tears, just away with her children and her new factor.

William pulled out the robes he’d worn when he’d arrived from under his sleeping pallet. He tried to put them back on, knowing he would have to leave the loaned clothes with the Hall. The robe was far too small. He’d put on weight and muscle since he’d arrived. It wouldn’t go over his shoulders at all, they were so much broader. The trews cut into his legs and looked like something a stripling would wear. He looked ridiculous.

‘You’d best keep the stuff we gave you, we can’t hand you back to your kin naked,’ Connor laughed as William tried to get the tunic off.

‘Well it would be a sight to blind everyone!’ Buffy laughed, having come in from the storerooms. She helped pull off the far too small robe and undershirt. ‘We’ll keep these for Xander’s boy: I think they’ll fit him soon enough,’ she laughed again. William was glad he’d found something to put the sparkle back in her eyes, even if it was him looking like a prat.


The two weeks until leaving day flew past. The farming year continued with new life born and crops planted. But the hall was sad. This time of year was always hard for those left behind. The ship was ready for Connor and William to leave, the wagons ready for Buffy and Faith.

Faith pulled away first: she had a longer journey than Buffy. Her sled had been converted back into a wagon and the children were sitting on top of the great piles of cloth Buffy had bought for her at the market. Around her neck was the amber Buffy had given her that morning, to protect her from witches and lightning, along with the bag of ginger Connor had promised her.

‘I will pay you back,’ Faith said, looking straight at her foster sister.

‘Too right you will,’ Buffy pulled a face at her.

‘I won’t owe you for anything.’ Faith growled back.

‘No, I know Faith, I trust you, but if you need me…’

‘If I need you I know where you’ll be. In your own hall and safe in my heart.’ Faith’s tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. She would always remember the woman that had saved her sanity. A quick hug to Willow and Tara and then Robin helped her to mount the horse that had been lent her. Jon would go with them to bring the horses back. Gram had sent his promised men and it was a big party that headed out of the gate.

‘Nearly time to go, Buffy,’ Connor said. The look on his step mother’s face was breaking his heart. ‘The tide will be turning and will take us straight out to sea.’

Buffy nodded and wiped the water from her eyes. She wouldn’t let them see her cry.

She followed Connor down the path towards the noust, where the boat was tied up by the quay with most of her crew aboard. Anya and Xander were holding each other close. Olaf was holding Helga as well.

Connor hugged Willow and Tara hard, giving both a deep, hungry kiss on the lips. ‘I’ll return in time for the wedding.’

‘You had better, or we’ll start without you,’ Willow joked. Her eyes were full of tears but she refused to let them spill. She turned to William and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

‘Good fortune and may the gods smile on you for the rest of your life William of Wessex; and we will care for Tara, she will be my sister-wife come the fall of the year.’

Tara looked at her cousin. This was the last time they would ever see each other again. Her tears were falling down her face as she held his hands.

‘You g-give m-my love to Aunt A-anne, and take care William, Don’t e-ever forg-g-get how much I love you,’ she stammered. ‘I wish you could be at the wedding.’

‘I will be thinking of you then, and I will pray for you.’

William kissed her gently on the forehead and turned from her. He looked at Buffy, it would be the last time he would ever see her face, her eyes, her smile. They had made love all night the night before, until they had grown so weary but they hadn’t slept. They had just held one another and basked in the love they had been privileged to share, if only for a few months.

‘I love you William of Wessex, and I always will.’

She pulled up her snips and reached for one of the tiny plaits in her hair. It was tied with a piece of fingerbraiding the one she had made while he was reciting his poetry; she cut it off and handed it to him.

‘Try not to forget me.’

‘I couldn’t ever forget you my love, you have my soul and my heart forever in your keeping.’

He pulled her into his arms and filled his nose with the sweet scent of her hair, it broke his heart to leave her, but he had no choice: it would be torture to stay knowing she needed and deserved better than a man such as he.

The tears were flowing freely from both of them as he pulled away and jumped down into the boat. Connor pointed to his bench and he slipped off the cloak he’d worn and took his place at the oar.

‘Heave! Heave, heave, heave!’

He had to concentrate on the calls from Olaf as the boat made its way out to where wind and tide would carry him away from the only woman he would ever want or need.

Buffy was grateful for Tara and Willow standing by her side. It looked to the men as though they were simply holding each other’s waists; what they must never know, nor would ever be told, was that the healers were holding Buffy up so that she wouldn’t collapse as they pulled away to join Eirik’s boat that waited for them in the bay.

‘That boat has taken away the best part of me,’ she whispered. She waited until they were around the headland and completely out of sight before collapsing in tears on the ground.
It was two days before she was strong enough to leave for her own hall.

That month her flow didn’t come. Freya had blessed her, and the child’s father would never know.





You must login (register) to review.