A Moment in Time (37 page)

"I will, yer grace, I will," Ruari Ban assured his host. Then he drank down his wine and, standing up, said, "We'd best be on our way. Though the day is new, it will grow old fast enough." He reached into the purse that hung from his belt and extracted a single copper which he handed to Brys. "Yer grace, payment in full." Then reaching into another bag hanging from his waist, he drew out a thin length of chain and, coming down from the high board, affixed it loosely about Wynne's waist: "We'll not be harming yer bairn," he told her. "Ye wear no slave collar, wench?"

"I didn't want to spoil her pretty neck," Brys cut in, "but you may have no choice, Ruari Ban."

"We'll see," the slaver said, and then, wrapping the length of chain about his hand, he nodded to Brys, saying, "Well then, we're off to Mercia, yer grace!"

"God be with you," Brys returned piously.

Ruari Ban cast him an amused look and then, yanking lightly at the chain, drew Wynne with him. "God wouldn't come near this place," he murmured softly. "I suspect yer not unhappy to be going, eh lass? What's yer name? I heard him say it, but I don't remember."

"Wynne," she said.

"Wynne," he repeated. "It means
fair
in the Welsh tongue, doesn't it? Aye, it does. It suits ye, lass."

They had exited the castle and were now in the courtyard. She debated whether to tell him the truth now or to wait a bit, deciding that to wait was better. Best to be away from Castle Cai.

"Ye'll ride behind me, wench," she heard Ruari Ban say as a fat brown horse was brought. "Once we reach my caravan, ye'll walk with the rest of them, but until later today ye'll ride. Up with ye now!"

Her arms about Ruari Ban's ample waist, Wynne turned to look back at Castle Cai as they rode out from it and down into the misty blue valley below. For a time she had considered the possibility that she wouldn't escape Brys alive, but she had. It wouldn't take long to straighten out the situation she found herself in, particularly considering the fact that Brys had only sold her for a mere copper. Why, the gold chain in her pocket should buy her freedom easily.

"Sir," she said politely, "I would speak with you."

"What is it lass?" he answered her.

"It is not as Brys of Cai has told you," she began.

"I suspected as much," came the reply. " 'Tis his bairn yer carrying, I've not a doubt, and the devil didn't want you or it. He's a strange, cruel man, he is. Well, yer better off without him, and I'll find ye a good home, wench."

"I do not want you to find me a good home, sir. I have a good home. At Raven's Rock Castle," Wynne said. "I am Prince Madoc's wife, Wynne of Powys. My brother-in-law imprisoned me yesterday afternoon when I came to speak with him. If you will simply return me to my husband, you will be well rewarded."

"Now why would yer brother-in-law do such a thing, wench?" Ruari Ban did not sound particularly convinced by her brief explanation.

Wynne struggled to make him believe her. "Brys of Cai and his elder half-brother, my husband, Madoc of Powys, are bitter enemies. Because I am expecting our first child, I wanted the two brothers to be reunited in friendship. I waited until my husband was away and then I slipped away from Raven's Rock yesterday morning. When I arrived at Cai, it was to find Brys torturing some poor girl. When I tried to intervene, my brother-in-law struck me. I awoke to find myself in his dungeon, the dying girl with me. This morning Brys told me he was going to sell me into slavery. He said he had brought my mare back to Raven's Rock so that our people would find it riderless. He took most of my clothing from me, ripped and bloodied it, and left it in the forest for my husband to find. He feels by making Madoc believe I am dead, he will have his revenge on him. He threatened to harm my unborn child if I protested, and so I waited until we were away from Cai. If you will return me to Raven's Rock, my husband will reward you, Ruari Ban. Madoc loves me dearly, and this is his first child I am to bear," Wynne finished.

Ruari Ban sighed deeply and replied, "Now, lass, it may very well be that you are telling me the truth, but I cannot be certain. I have heard many tales far less plausible than yours over the years that turned out to be truth; and tales more plausible that were nought but lies. Of one thing, however, I am certain. The bishop of Cai is an evil man and an enemy who does not forgive a fault. I know little of Madoc of Powys, but what I know tells me he is as different from his brother as day is different from night.

"Brys of Cai sold you to me for one copper. It is obvious, whoever you are, that he desires to be rid of you. He has entrusted me with the business of carrying out his wishes. If I betray him, he will not rest until he has gotten his revenge on me. I have known some who tried to deal with his grace in a less than straightforward manner. All died, and it was a terrible death they suffered. Brys of Cai is a man who enjoys giving pain. The countryside hereabouts lives in fear of catching his eye or gaining his wrath. If I betray him, there is no place in this world where I shall be safe from his assassins."

"My husband will protect you, Ruari Ban. Madoc is the prince of Wenwynwyn, and that family is well-known for its sorcerers. Madoc will not allow Brys to harm you!"

"Your husband, if indeed he is your husband, sorcerer or no, could not protect you from Brys of Cai, wench," was the answer.

Wynne thrust a hand beneath the slaver's face. "Look at that hand," she demanded angrily. "Is that the hand of a slave woman? It is the hand of a lady! Do you not hear my speech? Is it rough or crude in either tone or its manner? I am not a slave born at Cai. I am the wife of Madoc of Powys. I insist that you take me home now!"

"Ye'd best curb that temper of yers, wench," Ruari Ban advised Wynne mildly. "There be some who won't take kindly to such a tone."

"I can pay you!" Wynne said desperately. "Gold! If you'll just take me home. What harm is there in it? If I'm not who I claim to be, you continue onward. But I am, and there'll be a reward in it for you."

He stopped his horse and turned about to look cannily at her. "What gold?" he demanded.

In that instant Wynne realized that to reveal to Ruari Ban that she possessed her gold chain and her wedding band would be foolish. This creature was a man who willingly associated and did business with Brys of Cai. He could not be trusted. He'd steal her jewelry and she'd be worse off than she was now. "I've gold at Raven's Rock," she told him simply, and then she smiled. "If you will but return me home, my husband will give you much gold."

The slaver grumbled, exasperated, "Shut yer mouth, wench! I've heard all I want to hear. Whatever the truth of the matter is, I don't want to incur the enmity of his grace, the bishop of Cai, who expects me to sell you off for a disobedient slave. If I don't, he will know and he will kill me. Now Madoc of Powys don't know old Ruari Ban at all. I've no quarrel with him. If yer indeed his wife and he don't know I've got ye, then I've still no quarrel with him, now do I? I'm not a bad fellow, but I'll listen to no more from ye. One more word and ye'll walk behind the horse."

Wynne wanted to shriek with outrage, but she restrained herself. Ruari Ban might be stubborn, but he was no fool. She understood his position, as difficult as that position was for her. Damn Brys of Cai for the dreadful villain he was! And knowing what a terrible person Madoc's brother was, why was she still questioning his motives? It was Madoc she should be concerned about. Madoc who would believe her dead. She felt a dull ache suffuse her heart at the thought that her actions should cause the man she loved to suffer in any manner.
Madoc!
She cried out to him with every fiber of her being.
Madoc! The child and I yet live!

She felt the tears slipping down her cheeks and, angry at herself for such an open display of weakness, she brushed them away. Her stomach growled noisily, and Wynne remembered the bread stuffed in her pocket. She drew it out, careful not to disturb her gold chain and ring, which were hidden there too. The bread was hard and dry, but she began to gnaw upon it hungrily, moistening the crust with her saliva.

Ruari Ban turned his head about to look at her, saying, "Have ye not eaten this morning, wench?"

Wynne shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of the dry bread. "I was brought from my dungeon cell directly to the Great Hall," she told him. "I saved the bread from last night's meal, if indeed that disgusting mess I was served could be called a meal."

"Be patient, wench," he counseled her. "Another hour and we should catch up to my caravan. They're camped for the day, and the cook fires will be going. I'll see yer well fed. 'Tis not my policy to starve the merchandise. Any slaver who does that won't make a fat profit. Besides, yer eating for two, ain't ye? Ohh, ye'll bring me a fine profit, ye will, wench! Two for the price of one, and yer not yet deformed with the bairn that ye've lost yer looks either. I've got just the man in mind for yer master too. A wealthly thegn with large moneybags who'll pay well for a fertile lass like yerself for his childless son. Be clever, m'dear, and 'twill be yer new master who ends up the slave," he cackled, well pleased with himself.

When he had turned about again and was facing forward-once more, Wynne allowed herself the luxury of a few more tears before finally growing calm. She had her gold chain and her gold ring, and she did indeed intend being clever. Clever enough to escape the fate Brys had planned for her. He would not defeat her this time either!

And ever has it been that love knows not

its own depth until the hour of separation.

Kahlil Gibran

The Prophet

Chapter 11

Wynne quickly found that there was to be no easy escape for her from Ruari Ban, the Irish slaver. They reached his encampment, and she found herself chained to a tree with just enough length of links to move about comfortably, but that was all.

She was fed well and, in general, well-treated. The little Irishman did not believe in mistreating the slaves in his possession, for he was an astute businessman before all else. They remained the night. Then Ruari Ban's party, which consisted of close to thirty slaves and at least five other men to help with them, moved out along the roads leading across the hills from Wales to the Mercian town of Worcester.

Despite his threat to walk her, Ruari Ban seemed to have a soft heart where Wynne was concerned. Each day he took her up upon his horse, which did not particularly endear her to the other captives. Wynne did not care. Her mind was far too busy considering her situation and contemplating how she would escape. Ruari Ban, however, chattered away as they rode, telling her bits of history regarding the area through which they were passing.

When they had crossed over Offa's Dyke into Mercia he explained that the Mercian king, Offa, had built the earthworks to clearly mark his territory from that of Powys.

"But he built it on land belonging to Powys," Wynne noted.

Ruari Ban chuckled. "So he did, wench. So he did. Still, the lords of Powys allowed it, and the Mercian towns nearer the border have .been the better for it. Both Hereford and Worcester have prospered mightily."

"Why are you taking me to Worcester?" Wynne asked.

"I have a buyer in mind for you, wench. The eldest son of a wealthy thegn called Eadwine Aethelhard. His sons are Caddaric Aethelmaere and Baldhere Armstrang."

"I do not understand these Anglo-Saxon surnames," Wynne said.

"It's not so difficult," Ruari Ban told her. "A man must earn his surname here in England. Aethelhard means noble and brave. Hence, Eadwine, the noble and the brave. He is descended from Offa and is known to be a very courageous warrior. As for his sons, Caddaric Aethelmaere is equally famed for his bravery, hence his surname, noble and famous; and the younger son, Baldhere Armstrang, gained his surname for a powerful and unflagging arm which is equally facile at throwing a spear accurately and using a broadsword to its greatest advantage.

"The sons are but a year apart and have spent their lives in constant competition. A competition at which the elder, Caddaric, held the edge until they married. Caddaric's wife, Eadgyth Crookback, has borne him no children in their eight years of marriage. Neither have any of his lesser women. Baldhere, however, has three daughters and a son by his wife Aeldra Swanneck; two little daughters by one of his lesser women; and his other lesser woman is, I am told, expecting her first child.

"Caddaric will inherit from his father, but unless he can father children, it is Baldhere's son who will inherit from him. Caddaric, you will understand, is desperate to have a child of his own. He is furious with his wife and his women for their failure to produce his children. It is to his great misfortune to have contracted the alliances he has with so many barren women. You, my pretty wench, are obviously a fruitful lass. I intend selling you to Caddaric so that he may get children on you once you have delivered of the babe you now carry. You will bring me a fine profit, wench!"

"Has anyone stopped to consider that perhaps this Caddaric is the barren one?" Wynne demanded. "How many lesser women does he possess, Ruari Ban?"

"Four, and a tasty lot of beauties they are," came the reply.

"This Mercian stallion plays the stud to five mares and he cannot get one of them in foal?" Wynne exclaimed. "I think you expect the impossible; from me or any other woman, Ruari Ban."

The slaver chuckled. "Eadwine Aethelhard used up a few wives before he got his two boys. Caddaric is like his da. Slow to start, but he'll be quick to finish with a hot-blooded, wild Welsh girl like you in his bed!"

Wynne shook her head in despair. This was all she needed. To be introduced into a household of jealous women, most of whom were barren, and one of whom expected her only son to inherit a rich estate, providing her brother-in-law had no sons.
Madoc!
She reached out to him with her mind as she had done ever since Brys's perfidy.
Madoc! I am not dead! Help me! Find me!
There was nothing. Could she ever reach him? She had to reach him! She didn't know what else to do.

Ruari Ban decided not to go to Worcester first, for he did not want to put Wynne up for public sale. If she was indeed who she said she was, word could easily filter back to Madoc of Powys. Ruari Ban would find himself with two powerful enemies to contend with. Madoc, because he had in effect kidnapped his wife; and Brys of Cai, for having failed the bishop. Instead he sent his people and his merchandise ahead to the market town of Hereford, where he would eventually catch up with them. Wynne he took directly to Aelfdene, the estate belonging to Eadwine Aethelhard.

They arrived close to nightfall, just as the gates were closing on the estate's courtyard. Ruari Ban and Wynne were shown into the hall, where the fire pits were blazing merrily, taking the chill off the autumn evening. The slaver had been wise enough to exchange Wynne's filthy and worn under tunic for a clean one of soft lavender silk which was belted simply with a twisted rope belt of darker violet. He had given her time to wash her hair in a nearby stream and rebraid it neatly. Indeed, Wynne had taken the opportunity to bathe her entire body, ignoring Ruari Ban, who had watched her most licentiously. Her gold chain and her wedding band were securely hidden in the pocket of her clean gown.

Wynne looked curiously up at the high board as they approached it. A huge Saxon with the obvious look of a warrior sat in the place of honor. He had a large leonine head. His hair was a fine ash brown, his beard of the same hue, well-barbered. His blue eyes were frankly curious. On either side of him sat a young man, obviously his sons from the look of them. Which was which? she wondered. Then Wynne noted that next to the sullen young man who had dark blond hair was a pinch-faced young woman with one shoulder slightly higher than the other. This then would be Caddaric and his wife, Eadgyth Crookback. To Eadwine's left was a darker-haired son with his wife, a pouty-mouthed girl with thick flaxen braids and a prideful look. Baldhere and Aeldra Swanneck, Wynne thought.

"Welcome to Aelfdene, Ruari Ban!" came the deep booming voice of Eadwine Aethelhard. "We have not seen you here in many months. I am told you travel only with this young girl."

"I have brought her for your son, Caddaric, my lord," replied Ruari Ban. "This beauteous Welsh wench is the answer to all his problems."

"Each time that my son has introduced another woman into my house, he has claimed her the answer to his difficulty, Ruari Ban. Why do you think this girl can succeed where the others have failed?" Eadwine Aethelhard looked curiously at Wynne.

"I have proof of this girl's fertility, my lord. She is with child by her former master. An odd sort who decided he wanted neither the woman nor the child she carried." Ruari Ban lowered his voice and spoke in a confidential tone. "He is a churchman of some prominence, my lord. You see the difficulty."

The thegn nodded and said, "Well, let's see her, my friend. I can tell little about her while she is clothed." He stood up and came down from the dais.

Ruari Ban quickly unlaced the neckline of Wynne's tunic. Pulling it off her, he allowed the gown to slip to the floor about her ankles. Wynne wasn't certain that she was even breathing. This was horrendous! To be exposed before a single stranger would have been bad enough, but to be presented naked before this Saxon's entire hall was almost more than she could bear. She had never before seriously considered the plight of a slave, for her family had always treated their slaves with kindness. Still, kindness was not enough if one could be manipulated against one's will. When I am back at Raven's Rock, she thought, I must tell Madoc of this. We will keep no more slaves!

Eadwine Aethelhard walked slowly about the naked girl, his eyes taking in every nuance of her. He lifted up one of her arms, running his hand along it, examining the palm. Kneeling, he ran his hands over the backs of her legs. Standing, he looked into her face. It was a beautiful face, but her eyes were deliberately unfocused, as if she had detached herself from the entire proceeding.

"Open your mouth," he commanded her. The eyes widened, startled, but she obeyed him. Her breath was sweet, her teeth sound, he noted. The thegn was no fool. This girl was obviously a captive and not slaveborn. Captives could be difficult. He cupped one of the girl's breasts in his palm, and her startled gaze immediately made contact with his. She blushed, the color staining her milk-white skin, but she said nothing and her green eyes again grew blank. He stood back from her now and saw the faint rounding of her belly, but was not surprised. Ruari Ban was an honest man and would not have lied about the girl's condition.

"I want her!"
His son, Caddaric, was leaning across the high board, his eyes filled with lust. Next to Caddaric his daughter-in-law was looking dejected as usual. Eadwine Aethelhard wasn't surprised that Caddaric could not get a child on poor Eadgyth. She was a frail creature, but she had come to them with a dowry consisting of two and a half hides of land, and whether she lived or died, the land now belonged to them. Caddaric, however, had four strapping other women he used with vigorous regularity. So much so that the thegn had recently overheard them complaining of their lord's constant attentions. If his son were capable of fathering a child, something Eadwine had only recently begun to doubt, surely one of these other lasses could have given Caddaric a son or daughter.

"I want her, Father!"
Caddaric's hoarse voice repeated. "Buy her for me!"

"You have too many women and can seem to do nothing with any of them," Baldhere teased his brother. "Now I have but two lesser women. I think father should buy this one for me."

"I do not intend buying her for either of you," Eadwine Aethelhard answered his sons. "I am going to buy her for me!"

"What?"
Caddaric and Baldhere chorused in unison, and both of his daughters-in-law came to life, staring at him as if he had gone mad.

"Father," ventured Aeldra Swanneck nervously, "do you not think you are too old for a woman?"

"I am forty-three, Aeldra," Eadwine told her, amused. "I use the slave women and the female serfs belonging to this estate with great regularity."

"You do?" Aeldra Swanneck looked quite surprised. "I did not know."

"Well, daughter, now you do. I have had no woman in my life since my good Mildraed died three years ago. I want one, and this wench will suit me quite nicely," he concluded. He now turned his attention to Ruari Ban. "How much?"

"Five silver pennies, my lord. She's a rare beauty, and she will take good care of you in your old age," came the reply.

"Two silver pennies," countered Eadwine Aethelhard. "I am not so old yet, you Irish robber, that I could not get another son on this wench!"

"My lord Eadwine, you will beggar me, and after I have gone to all the trouble to bring this girl to you."

"You brought her to me, Ruari Ban, because you were afraid to sell her on the open market. This is no slaveborn girl, and I am no fool. She has the hands and feet of a well-born woman. I will ask you no questions, for I want her, but do not trifle with me. Two silver pennies!" the thegn said.

"Three, my lord, I beg you! Three! You are getting two slaves for the price of one," Ruari Ban wheedled pleadingly.

"The girl could die in childbed and I would lose them both. Three silver pennies make it a bad investment. Two and no more, or you can take her to Hereford."

"I will pay you three!" Caddaric shouted from the high board.

His father sent him a withering look. "You have nought but what I give you, Caddaric. Do not be a bigger fool than you already are, my son." He looked at Ruari Ban. "Well, slaver? What is your decision?"

Ruari Ban sighed dramatically. "You drive a hard bargain, my lord," he complained, "but I will accept. I can see the wench is taken with you already and would remain at Aelf-dene."

Eadwine Aethelhard's deep laughter boomed through his hall. "The girl would rather be anywhere but where she is at this moment, you old robber!" Chuckling, he delved into his purse which hung from the wide leather belt girding his tunic and drew out two silver coins. "Here, and you are welcome to stay the night, Ruari Ban. Tell me, does my new slave speak our tongue?"

"She does, my lord," replied the slaver, hefting the coins within his palm to ascertain their weight.

"The weight is true." Eadwine Aethelhard chuckled, and turning to Wynne, said gently, "Reclothe yourself, lass, and tell me your name."