A Moment in Time (55 page)

"How can you prevent a lustful man from his desires?" Wynne said. "And you cannot offer such a man another woman, for Caddaric would then wonder why his whore of the hall was not doing her duty. No, Eadgyth, it is impossible. I must flee Aelfdene!"

Eadgyth chuckled and replied, "Your fear is making you act irrationally. Think, I beg you! How did you stop my husband and keep him from his vile purpose, Wynne? You frightened him and made him believe you had cursed his manhood."

"But that was simple given the fact that Caddaric is known to be superstitious, and given the fact that he was already having some difficulty in performing his manly duties," Wynne said. "I had but to play on his weakness, but the men who pass through Aelfdene will be lusty fellows, filled with energy and pent-up passions, and eager to fuck a pretty woman. I will not be able to deter them in their intent," she finished. "No, Eadgyth, it is impossible!"

"You will not have to frighten these men away from you, Wynne," Eadgyth told her.
"We will!
Berangari, and Dagian, Haesel, and Aelf, and myself. We will convince any man coming into this hall and offered your services that you are a sorceress. That you have rendered our poor husband useless, and if they value their own manhoods, they will not go near you. If there is one brave enough to attempt to breach your walls, we will drug his wine before he has the chance. Caddaric need never know of our deception. No man would dare chance the loss of his manhood, but neither will he admit to fear, particularly fear of a mere woman. And what can Caddaric do about it? He cannot force his guests between your thighs, can he?" Eadgyth laughed aloud. "It is really quite a good plan, I think. Don't you?"

Wynne nodded slowly. It was a good plan! "Eadgyth," she said, "why is it you are constantly amazing me?" She hugged her companion and then continued, "Thank you, Eadgyth! And the others too. You are truly the best friends I have ever had."

The winter drained away and the days grew longer as the springtime approached. The women at Aelfdene went about their daily tasks in a calm and orderly manner. There were no visitors, but they all knew that come the warm months there would be. It was simply a matter of time. Then one day a thegn, whose holding was farther to the northwest, stopped overnight at Aelfdene on his way to Worcester.

"May I offer you the services of the whore of the hall?" Caddaric said jocularly to his guest as they sat sharing a jug of wine after the meal. "She's a particularly toothsome and spicy wench. Wynne! To me! We have a guest in need of pleasuring."

"She is not Saxon," the thegn, whose name was Wilfred, remarked.

"Nay, a Welsh wench. My father fancied her before his death," Caddaric replied, and then, looking up at Wynne, who now stood before the high board, he said, "Show our guest your breasts, Wynne."

It had been agreed amongst the women that Wynne would behave meekly in any situation like this where Caddaric was present, to allay any suspicions on his part when afterward he learned, if indeed he did learn, that she had not been used by a stranger. Expressionless, Wynne removed her tunic dress and then her under tunic before unlacing her chemise to bare her bosom.

"Are those not fine, big tits upon which to pillow your head?" Caddaric chortled, poking the half-drunk Wilfred, who, leaning forward, licked his lips with relish and leered suggestively at Wynne.

"Aye," he said, and his words were faintly slurred. "I would enjoy a tumble with your whore, Caddaric Aethelmaere. I dislike travel intensely, for I am a man who services
all
his women daily. When I am forced to travel, my energies become pent-up and I sicken. I have been on the road for three days now, with the prospect of another two days of riding before I reach my destination; not to mention the return trip. She looks like she'll be a juicy fuck."

"Wait at his bed space for our guest, Wynne," Caddaric ordered her with a pleased grin.

With a cold nod, Wynne restored her clothing to their proper mode and moved away from the high board. Berangari leaned over from her place at her husband's left and whispered something in his ear. Arising, he asked that his guest excuse him for a brief moment and moved off with his woman. Eadgyth slipped into her husband's place and said softly to Wilfred, "Do not use the woman Wynne, my lord."

"What?"
Wilfred looked puzzled.

"She is a sorceress, my lord. My husband sought to have her after his father died. She cursed his manhood so that he has not functioned in a normal manner since. She has threatened to do so with any man who tries to mount her."

"This is truth, lady?" The thegn, Wilfred, looked distinctly worried regarding Eadgyth's revelations.

"Aye, my lord," Eadgyth said, nodding her head vigorously.

"Why does your husband offer such a woman to his guests then?" Wilfred contemplated aloud. "Why does he not just send her away?"

"He will not send her away because he promised his father to look after her. Wynne was the old thegn's favorite. She is our healer," Eadgyth explained logically. "My husband is a generous man, but somewhat shortsighted at times. He would be the best of hosts, you see, and foolishly offers the woman to you, hoping to please."

"You're certain the woman would curse me?" Wilfred asked, his eyes moving down the hall to where Wynne stood. She was a most toothsome female, and he was very reluctant to give her up.

"Did you see her smile, my lord? She never smiles.
Ever.
She had a soft spot for the old thegn, but she is a cold, hard woman with no heart. She wouldn't hesitate to hex you. I think she enjoys hurting men. Ahhh! The suffering she has caused us all!" Eadgyth sighed, her hand resting dramatically over her heart. "I would not wish such tragedy upon your wife and women. My poor Caddaric! He will never be the same again, although," and here Eadgyth lowered her voice so that the thegn, Wilfred, was forced to lean forward to hear her, "you must not tell him I told you of our mutual misfortune." And Eadgyth wiped a tear from her eye, or so at least the thegn, Wilfred, thought, sympathy rising in his breast for this gentle, good woman who but sought to save him.

"There, there," he sympathized with her, patting Eadgyth's hand. "Caddaric will not know that we have spoken on this matter, lady. As for the whore of the hall, tell her I have
changed my mind. Caddaric need not know of that either."

The next morning the thegn, Wilfred, departed, promising to stop at Aelfdene on his way home, but he did not return. During the warm months of summer that year there were several visitors to Aelfdene, for Caddaric was foolishly involving himself in the politics of the day. King Edward was not well, and Harold Godwinson was lobbying hard for the English throne. None of these visitors, however, availed themselves of the hall's whore. Caddaric was at first surprised, but as the days went by and Wynne remained untouched by any other man, he began to grow angry.

"Is there no one who will help me to bring this proud bitch to heel?" he grumbled to Eadgyth.

"Perhaps, my husband, it is God's way of intervening in your cruel plan," she told him boldly. Eadgyth was the only one of Caddaric Aethelmaere's women who might speak to him without fear of reprisal. "I think God has saved you from yourself, and I thank him for it."

But Caddaric was not pleased by her words. Each day he watched as Wynne fed Averel, who was now toddling about the hall on fat, unsteady little legs. He watched her sit by the fire pit nursing her daughter, her son by her knee chattering up at her and stroking Averel's little head tenderly. The little boy adored his baby sister. How strange, Caddaric thought to himself. This small boy with his raven's hair and his deep blue eyes; this so obviously Welsh child and I have much in common.
Averel.
Averel who is both his half sister and mine.

Daily Caddaric Aethelmaere watched Wynne and her children, growing more and more embittered. Her womb was as fertile as one of his newly harvested fields. Yet she denied him its use. She denied him the children he so desperately desired. He had made her the lowest of the low in his hall; still everyone treated her as they had treated her in the days when his father had been alive.
Worse!
For some strange reason, no man who had come into his house as a guest would avail himself of her services. She remained cool and untouched. It was driving him mad. He wanted to punish her. He wanted to humble her.
He wanted to destroy her even as she was destroying him!

He would give her to the first man who would use her in his very presence so that he could be certain she would be brought down and demeaned, he promised himself, and he waited for that man and that day.

Chapter 18

Autumn came once more and with it a peddler’s cart that rumbled down the barely visible path that led from a poorly marked secondary track to Aelfdene manor. It was late afternoon. The serfs and the geburas, curious, came from the fields and from their houses, delighted for this pleasant intrusion into their otherwise dull lives. The cart was drawn by a rather tired-looking dusty brown horse who ambled into the manor house courtyard as if he were coming home and then abruptly stopped.

Atop the cart's bench seat sat two men. One was large with shoulder-length grey-white hair. Stepping down from the cart, he announced in a rough voice, "I am Boda, the peddler. I have come to trade, and I seek shelter for the night." Boda walked with a most pronounced limp.

Caddaric Aethelmaere stepped forward. "I am the thegn of Aelfdene," he said. "You're welcome to my hall. Let me see your goods and we will talk."

"Very good, my lord," Boda said, and turned to the other man with him, a gaunt shambling fellow with a half-vacant look. "Display our goods, you fool!"

"Who is he?" demanded Caddaric.

"My son Tovi," Boda replied. "Since birth he has been slow in his mind."

"Why do you keep him with you?" Caddaric asked.

"Why not? I do not have to pay him, and he is too stupid to steal from me, aren't you, Tovi?" The peddler chuckled.

Tovi offered his audience a gap-toothed grin and nodded. He had the definite look of a half-wit about him.

"A slave would have cost me money, my lord. With Tovi I have but to feed him regularly and beat him occasionally. Or is it feed him occasionally and beat him regularly?" The peddler chuckled loudly at his own humor. Then he said, "If you have women you would favor and are of a mind to be generous, bring them forth. I have many pretties and geegaws that will appeal to the ladies."

Caddaric did not know how generous he was of a mind to be this day, but Eadgyth and his lesser women had been particularly accommodating of late. "Bring your mistress and the others," he commanded the nearest serf.

The peddler and his son began to display their goods for all to see. Caddaric was astounded by the variety of merchandise laid out from the small cart which hardly seemed large enough to hold half of what was presented. There were some fine iron pots and attractive glass vessels, as well as the usual supplies of salt and spices; but it was the extent of the luxury goods brought forth that amazed Caddaric. He was unable to keep from saying so.

Boda nodded as if pleased by the young thegn's astuteness. "We are a large family of traders," he said chattily. "I have nine brothers, and our business extends from England all the way to Byzantium. It is there my eldest brother does the buying for us all, as it is cheaper to buy directly in Constantinople than if we bought from some middleman here in England or elsewhere. The goods are then shipped to us wherever we are. I make my home in London during the winter months, but once the roads are passable again, Tovi and I travel about in our little cart, trading and selling as we go."

"Your
little
cart holds a great deal," Caddaric noted.

" 'Tis all in the packing, my lord," Boda assured him with an airy wave of his hands.

The women had come from the house and were exclaiming excitedly over the peddler's wares. The fabrics displayed on wooden racks had them in raptures. There was fine linen from Genoa; scarlet silk from Lucca; blue and white silks as well as beautiful woolen cloth from Firenze. There were fine-tooled leather belts, and leather belts that had been gilded in gold leaf. There were silver and bronze buckles from Byzantium, and a very beautiful silver dish from the same city, which particularly took Caddaric's fancy. Indeed, having seen it, he could scarcely let it out of his hands.

The selection of jewelry was an excellent one. There were beads of blue and white glass, and crystal beads and those of garnet. There were gold and garnet disk brooches, and other brooches fashioned from silver and decorated with moonstones. There were bracelets of both silver and gold; as well as decorative pins. A rock crystal pendant set in a silver sling took Berangari's fancy, but Eadgyth very much desired a beautifully engraved bronze work box. The others argued over simpler treasures such as small ivory boxes and packets of needles.

Wynne, however, fell in love with a fine-painted dower chest. "It would be perfect for Averel," she said wistfully. "It is never too soon to begin filling a girl's dower chest." She knew that had Eadwine been alive, the chest would have been immediately purchased for their daughter. She did not expect Caddaric, however, to buy it. So, turning away, she returned alone to the house, unnoticed by the others.

The peddler and his son would shelter in the hall for the night. Eadgyth knew that Caddaric would offer Wynne to them for their pleasure. His desire to break her spirit had not ceased, and the two strangers were the first visitors they had had in weeks. When Caddaric had finally gone back into the house, Eadgyth and the others clustered about the peddler. From a distance it appeared as if they were chattering, questioning him or seeking to bargain with him.

"My husband," said Eadgyth in a sweet voice, "will offer you the services of the whore of the hall tonight, sir. Do not, if you value your life, accept his offer."

"Why not?" Boda demanded in his rough voice, peering at her curiously with bloodshot eyes.

"She is a sorceress!"
Dagian said dramatically before Eadgyth might even answer him.

"Aye," Berangari put in quickly, and lowered her voice, "she rendered our man useless when he sought to have his way with her. He has been no good to any of us since, though he blusters and pretends it is otherwise."

"There are no children here," Haesel said in an eerie tone. "None but those belonging to the Welsh witch herself. Her curse has denied us all our motherhood."

"Why does he not get rid of her?" Boda demanded suspiciously.

"She was purchased by the old master to be the manor's healer," Eadgyth answered him. "We have no other healer, nor anyone capable of it. That is why our lord will not let the girl go, though we have pleaded with him to do so."

"If she is the healer, then why is she also the whore of the hall?" Boda probed further.

"She was the old master's favorite woman. She bore him a child," Eadgyth said. "After his death, our husband sought to force himself on her, for he had a greedy appetite for female flesh. When he would not heed her objections, she worked her magic upon him. He punished her in return by making her the whore of the hall, but we have warned all to whom he would offer her, for knowing what we do, we cannot in good Christian conscience allow any man near her. She has threatened to curse any who would attempt her, and believe me, sir, she will!"

The peddler nodded his understanding of the matter. "I thank you for your warning, my lady," he told her. "I should not enjoy being crippled. I have a young second wife."

In the safety of the Great Chamber the women giggled over what had just passed between them and the peddler.

"He reeks of onions," little Aelf said. "I could smell them even from where I stood behind Berangari."

"At least he'll not bother Wynne," Eadgyth said in relieved tones.

"He's a big lout and ugly as sin," Berangari noted, "but it is his son who frightens me. Did you see him watching us from the sides of his eyes?" She shuddered. "I'd not like to meet him on a dark path on a moonlit night."

"He's just a half-wit," Aelf noted. "Do you think that half-wit men futter women? Do you think they even know how?" she wondered curiously.

"How horrible!" Haesel shrieked. "How can you think of such a thing?"

"Well, Caddaric will offer Wynne to the peddler, and he will refuse her," Aelf said. "What if he offers her to the halfwit? We did not speak to him, and besides, he would not know enough to refuse. What if he can fuck like any other man, despite his lack of wits? Did any of you consider that?" Aelf concluded, extremely pleased with herself for having thought it all out.

"The peddler will not allow his son near Wynne," Eadgyth said with firm assurance in her voice. "Even if the creature could function in a normal manner, the peddler will want to protect his offspring from any curse. Remember, the poor soul is free labor for his father."

At the dinner hour they adjourned to the hall to find Caddaric smiling and in a particularly good mood. Boda and his son were with him. At each of their places, but Wynne's, was a gift. For Eadgyth there was the beautiful bronze work box that she had so admired.

"Open it! Open it!" Caddaric chortled.

Inside Eadgyth found a packet of needles and a lovely gold and garnet disk brooch. "My dear husband," she said, and her eyes were filled with tears. She had never, since her wedding day when he had come bearing gifts, received such bounty from him. Why now, she wondered, delighted nonetheless.

Berangari, smiling, was clasping the rock crystal pendant in the silver sling about her graceful neck. She had never dreamed it would really be hers. Catching Caddaric's hand up, she kissed it in thanks, and Caddaric grinned.

There was an ivory comb in a matching case decorated with blue glass and moonstones, for Dagian, and a necklace of garnet beads for Haesel, the beads all strung on a gold chain. Aelf was in transports of delight over a silver and moonstone brooch. They fought over Caddaric in their efforts to thank him, which plea,sed him mightily, and he patted and pinched their buttocks in approval.

"Surely you have gifted yourself with something as well, my husband," Eadgyth said when the excitement had finally died down.

"After the meal I will tell you." He chuckled mysteriously.

It was a simple family supper. Rabbit stew, bread, cheese, and a sweet cake made with apples. There was newly brewed ale to drink, and Caddaric had more than his share. It was good, Eadgyth thought, to see him so happy. She could never remember ever seeing him so filled with the joy of living as he was this evening. When the dishes had been cleared from the board, Caddaric sat back smiling broadly. It was obvious he was quite pleased with himself.

"Eadgyth asked me before the meal if I had not purchased something from Boda that would give me pleasure," Caddaric began. "Well, I have!" Reaching beneath his chair, he lifted up the silver dish he had been so covetous of earlier and placed it on the table. "My father never had anything of such value in this hall in his day," he bragged. "Boda says it is from the workshop of Simon of Constantinople, one of the finest silversmiths in all of Byzantium. Look at the engraving, Eadgyth! It is a bull fighting a lion. Boda says it is a lion, although we do not have such beasts here. How I would like to hunt a lion!" Caddaric's face was filled with pleasure and almost boyish excitement.
"And, "
he continued, "I have something else, my wife." He drew a small vial filled with a reddish powder from his pocket, whispering as he did so, "Boda says that this will restore my vitality, Eadgyth. It is magical, and after I have taken it all, which I must do over a period of seven days, mixing it with wine, I will be able to give my women sons! Is this not marvelous?"

"Caddaric," Eadgyth asked him nervously, "these items are rare and of great value. What can you possibly have of equal value that you could barter in exchange?"

"Boda wants a wife for his son Tovi," Caddaric said slyly. "The half-wit has lately developed a lust for female flesh, and Boda has already had to pay damages to two men whose women Tovi used without permission. The fool knows no better." He laughed. "So Boda has decided to get a wife for his son. In exchange for all your gifts, for the silver bowl,
and
the magical powder, I have agreed to supply him with a bride."

"But what if the half-wit gives his wife children, Caddaric? Think on it, I beg you, my lord," Eadgyth said. "Is such a thing kind?"

"Do not fear, lady," Boda interrupted them, obviously worried that Caddaric would renege on their agreement if his wife convinced him to do so. "Neither my wife nor I lacked any of our wits, and we fathered three daughters as well, all sound. Poor Tovi, our youngest and our only son, was so curst. My young second wife has given me two boys as healthy as any. My grandchildren are all full-witted. Any babies Tovi can sire on a healthy woman will certainly have all their wits about them, I am sure. The girl your husband is giving us will not suffer. She will be well cared for, I promise you."

"The bargain has already been struck, Eadgyth," Caddaric said firmly. "I want the silver bowl; but more important to me, wife, is the powder which Boda assures me will overcome the Welsh woman's curse. Do you not want me well and whole again?"

What else could she answer but "Aye," Eadgyth thought. Her husband had purchased them all fine gifts by bartering away a serf girl. Eadwine Aethelhard would certainly not have done that, and then she pushed the guilty thought away. Caddaric Aethelmaere was a hard man, but he had always been good to her. What difference could one girl make? Knowing her husband's normally close ways, the girl would have some fault, Eadgyth was certain. The serfs were always spawning children. It almost seemed that they had nothing else to do. She smiled up at her husband and inquired, "Which girl is to go with Boda and his son, my lord?"