Mistletoe Kisses and Yuletide Joy (15 page)

They'd touched often. He'd even let her swim with them in the summer river as long as she never told her mother. Distant, golden days. His touch shouldn't bother her now, after her convent years.

He let her tingly-warm hands go and went to his knees to pull off her leather shoes and rub her feet. "I don't suppose you can feel these at all. What was the convent thinking to let you walk here on such a day? Did they send no escort?"

She winced at the blessed pain of returning sensation.
"The Danes were raiding the area, so we fled to Canterbury. I ran away to come here."

He looked up with a flash of humor that was almost like the old days.
"Ah, my little she-wolf. I knew a convent would never hold you. I don't know why you thought it would."

Because you married Edith, you stupid man!
But she was grateful that he didn't suspect.

As unconsciously as if they were still children, he put his hands up under her layers of skirts and undid her garters, pulling off her double stockings, then putting her icy feet on his thighs and covering them with his hot hands.

"A fleece!" he commanded, and at least one of his men was still alert enough to leap up and get it. "And hot mead." Another servant ran to obey.

Slumped back against the table, Hera noted that he wasn't as far gone in drink as she'd thought, and neither were his men. Of course. Raef was above all a good thegn, a good warrior. So, what had been going on here?

"Where's Mother?" she asked.

He was tucking the thick fleece around her feet and his thighs, trapping his own warmth for her.
"With your father at Sutton." He began to rub her lower legs. "He's close to death, Hera."

She closed her stinging eyes, hardly able to believe it.
"I was right to come home, then." She looked around the room again, wondering. It was almost as if Raef was in charge here. Why?

"
Where's Edmund?" she asked. Edmund was her oldest brother and should be filling her father's shoes.

At the look in Raef's eyes she choked back a moan. Not Edmund too! But of course, Edmund had died at their father's side.

But Raef pulled a face and said, "In Rome, if his journey went well."

Hera began to think she'd collapsed on the road and was dreaming this. First the kiss, now this.

"In
Rome
?"

"
Aye." Raef took a steaming cup from a servant and pressed it into her hands. She cradled it, then sipped, shuddering with pleasure as the spicy warmth ran into her. Surely this was too vivid a delight for a dream?

Hands resting on her ankles, Raef said,
"About a month ago, Edmund decided to face the end in Rome. To be in Saint Peter's Church when Christ comes to judge."

"
I thought Christ would return to Jerusalem."

He shrugged and after tucking the fleece all around her warming feet, he stood to pick up his own ale horn and drink.
"Rome. Jerusalem. Bethlehem.... I told him, God will find us, no matter where we are, but he was set on his plan, intending to pray and fast on his way for the salvation of his soul. As for me, I intend to greet Christ as I have lived"—he toasted her with his cup—"drinking and fighting."

She didn't know which was maddest, him or Edmund.
"Christ is the Prince of Peace. Do you want to face him with blood on your hands?"

He laughed bleakly.
"Who's been free of bloody hands in this cursed land in our lifetime? The Danes are devils, sent to warn us of the torments of hell. I'll not be judged a sinner for killing devils. It hardly matters, anyway. I'm one of the damned."

Hera squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Though nothing in front of her changed, perhaps this was a dream. Or a nightmare.

"You? Damned? As you say, in this world men cannot help but fight."

He turned away to stare into the leaping fire.
"Wait until Christmastide and see whether Christ places me on the right hand or the left."

"
Raef, the world is not going to end at Christmastide."

He turned back.
"Will you take all hope from me?" He seemed calm, but now she could see the dark void beneath.

Sweet Jesus, what was going on here?

In desperation, she quoted Reverend Mother Gudrun, and in the nun's brisk tone. "It's impious to think God keeps to man's calendar. He can bring the end at any moment, and cares not for our earthly reckoning."

"
So, He can bring it at the thousand years." He looked up as if scenting the wind. "Can't you feel it, Hera? Can't you taste it? It's on the air like the howl of hungry wolves-"

"
That's the Danes!"

"
Perhaps the Danes are the Antichrist, predicted in the Bible. And what of the dragon fire in the sky during the summer?"

Hera shuddered. That had been a portent for sure, throwing the whole convent on its knees. She remembered that time of awe-struck terror, and how glad she'd been to be wrapped in a life of prayer and penance, and thus ready to meet Christ.

Now she was in flight from the holy life, and in danger of lusting after another woman's husband. A sinner.

If only he hadn't been here!

She asked the direct question. "Why are you here, Raef?"

"
Acklingham was taken." He gave the shocking news flatly. "I was out with the ships, and most of the men were with the forces. When the Danes won, Acklingham was left vulnerable, and-" His abrupt stop suggested something strange. "It's in the hands of a man called Magnus Ravenbringer, who demands more gold than I have for its return."

She wanted to ask how such a strong holding as Acklingham had been taken, even with most of its armed men away, but she knew it must be a terrible pain to him.
"Won't the king help?"

His lip curled.
"Ethelred the Ill-advised? I suppose he might help me find gold. But if we buy them off again, they'll be back next year, and next." He turned fierce eyes on her. "We have to
defeat
them, Hera. To show them we can't be pillaged for their comfort year after year. We need a king who will fight."

"
Our fathers fought, and see where that led."

"
We need a full army that will stand firm. And ships to attack them on the water, as we had in King Alfred's day."

"
Even King Alfred didn't drive them away forever." Hera sighed. "I've heard tell that the Danes seek to conquer us entirely, to put their own king on the throne. They already hold power in much of the north."

"
They will not hold power in Kent, as long as I have breath."

The pain was like a fist squeezing her heart.
"Raef, what does any of this matter if you believe the Last Judgment is coming within days?"

He looked at her with eyes that were frighteningly cold.
"It matters. I'll face Christ as thegn and warrior, and with His strength, I'll face Him in Acklingham.
Ragnarok
."

The pagan word for the final battle between good an evil rolled from his mouth like a foul curse. He couldn't have turned pagan!
"Raef-"

"
I long for
Ragnarok
, Hera, and I pray Armageddon is here, in this very corner of earth."

Hera was too soul-sick and weary to deal with this. She put aside fears about the state of Raef's soul, and turned her mind to mundane matters
—the state of Froxton Hall.

Even in smoky firelight, she could see that no one had scoured a dish for days, and that the only ones clearing up scraps were the dogs. The stink told of vast amounts of spilled ale, and a fair quantity of urine mixed in with it.

Then she saw one man fish about in a bowl of stew, then pull out a lump of meat to shove in his mouth. He grabbed a jug to top up his cup and wash it down. People were eating meat and drinking ale and mead as if there were no winter to face! She should leap up and whip them away from the food like wild dogs, but she lacked all will and strength.

Someone should have been managing things better. Not her mother, since she was with Father. Not Edmund, off in
Rome. Not Raef, for it was not his hall. Perhaps Edith, though she'd likely not have the fortitude for the task. Though sweet, she was not one to take on battles.

So, where was Hera's youngest sister
—the only other unmarried one? This was her task, and as usual, she'd shirked it.

"
Where's Alfrida?" she demanded of Raef.

"
Locked in her room. She's gone mad. Don't look at me like that," he went on roughly. "It's true. I'm sorry, Hera, but you've returned to a blighted place. Three days ago, Alfrida was seized by the Danes. She was raped. It's turned her mind." He ran a hand through his tangled hair. "Perhaps you can help her, for I can't. She needs a woman's care."

Hera stood, hugging her chilling cup, shivers running down her spine. Rape. Alfrida, with her rosy cheeks and riotously curling golden hair that matched her riotous high spirits? Crushed and broken by cruel men?

Rape was what the convent feared, the threat that had hunted her as she made her way alone across the countryside. She'd told herself that she was far enough inland to be safe from Vikings, but she'd kept every sense alert, and constantly sought out possible hiding places. In these times, there were English wolves as well as Danish ones on the prowl.

"
How"—she cleared her throat—"how did Alfrida fall into the hands of the Danes?"

"
We didn't know about the horses, so we didn't expect the Danes here. Even so, she shouldn't have been out alone, but you know Alfrida." He shrugged. "Whatever the reason, it happened."

No wonder Froxton was in such a state. The family was absent or wounded in one way or another, and Raef and his men had brought extra souls to care for.

It was too much. Hera didn't know what to do. She longed to throw herself into Raef's arms to be comforted, and if they were still just friends, she would. To her, however, they were not just friends, and she feared to betray herself. Anyway, Edith must be around somewhere, and Hera would do anything not to face Edith from within her husband's friendly arms.

"
But why lock her away?"

"
To save her from herself. She's not in her right mind."

"
Then she needs help!"

Oh, what point in talking? Though she quivered at the thought of seeing her sister's state, Hera put on her cold shoes and worked her way through the crowded hall to the end, where the private rooms lay.

Her parents' room took up the center, with the separate chambers for the unmarried men and women of the family on either side. The men's side was empty now, she assumed, unless Raef and his housecarls had taken it over. Alfrida would be in the other side.

The door really was barred on the outside, with hastily-constructed holders and a plank across. Hera glanced back at Raef, staring moodily into a blind distance, and wondered for the first time if he was entirely sane. Her sister couldn't be mad enough for this, and if she was, she shouldn't be left alone.

Perhaps she'd misunderstood, and she had her women with her.

Her eyes were lingering on Raef, however. Be he sane or mad, nothing in her had changed. Her feelings for him were as strong, as wild as ever, and now everything was worse. With his home in the hands of the Danes, he'd be here day after day. She'd have to see him, work with him to keep Froxton running. Have to talk. Touch....

Worse. She'd have to watch Raef with Edith. Kissing perhaps. Watch them leaving the company to go to their intimate bed. Ridiculous to care when the world was falling apart around her, when it might be coming to an end, but she did care. She cared most deeply and bitterly.

She crossed herself and said a prayer for forgiveness for the sin of envy, for the sin of coveting her neighbor's husband, for lust. Then she asked Christ's mother, a woman who must surely understand a woman's heart, to purge her mind of all painful feelings for Raef Eldrunson.

Hoping prayers still had power, she lifted out the heavy bar and opened the door to care for her poor sister.

Chapter Two

"
It's about time, you-"

Hera ducked and narrowly missed being knocked out by a swung pottery jug.

Alfrida had doubtless checked the swing, too, for she exclaimed, "Hera! Thank Blessed Mary and all the saints!"

Hera found herself in her sister's fervent embrace, thumped hard on the shoulder by a carelessly, wielded jug. She struggled free.
"But Raef said...."

"
What
did he say?" demanded Alfrida, banging the jug down on the small table. Even though she'd wound her curly blonde hair into a thick plait, much of it foamed around her fierce rosy face like a halo.

The hair suited her nature
—Hera wondered what her calmer hair said about herself—but surely even Alfrida wouldn't be so undaunted by rape.

"
He said you'd been raped by the Danes."

"
Ha!"

"
Oh, I'm so glad it's not true. But then, why-"

"
Why am I locked up?" Alfrida's mouth firmed, but she glanced at Hera almost warily. Hera knew that look. Her younger sister was up to something.

"
Well?" she asked.

Alfrida pulled her plait to the front and nibbled the end, beginning to glower. Oh, this must be bad.

"I wasn't raped," she said in the end. "But I was seized by the Danes. And one of them did... did deflower me. I did try to fight him off, Hera-"

"
Then it was rape! Oh, Alfrida-"

"
Even if I liked it?"

Hera sat on one of the three big beds.
"You
liked
it?"

Glower squirmed into a very wicked smile.
"I liked it. I liked it a lot. And I intend to have more of it! That's why Raef imprisoned me in here. Because I wanted to return to Magnus."

"
Then thank God he did! The shock has turned your mind, Alfrida."

Her sister rolled her eyes.
"Besottedness has turned yours."

"
Besotted? Me?"

"
Besotted! You! Everyone knows you're mad for Raef, and that's why you ran off to the convent."

Hera covered her flaming cheeks with her hands.

"Oh, probably not him," said Alfrida. "Men can be so dense. That's why I have to get back to Magnus."

Hera saw something to leap on to.
"Ah! So he doesn't want you."

"
Well, he certainly did at the time. And he will again. I'll make sure of it."

"
Alfrida, this is madness. I mean.... I'm glad it wasn't terrible, that you're not wounded and hurt, but you can't possibly want anything more to do with a
Dane
. Doubtless it wasn't your fault the first time, but if you did it again it would be a terrible sin. You don't want to be in a state of black sin when Christ comes, do you?"

"
Not you too. I don't think the world is coming to an end, but if it is, I want more time first on Magnus Ravenbringer's furs."

"
But…." Then the name connected. "Ravenbringer," Hera whispered. "Alfrida! Not the man who's taken Raef's manor?"

Her sister shrugged.
"That doesn't make it better or worse, does it?"

"
It makes Raef's reaction more reasonable. You can't-"

"
I can, and I will." Alfrida spread her hands. "It's a time of madness, Hera. Can't you feel it? Why else are you here? It's a time for seizing fate."

Fate. Despite Christian teaching, there was always fate. Fate set the path, and nothing could change it. Fate would come, pray or squirm as humans might. Had she tried to fight fate by hiding in the convent, or had she opposed it by running back here instead of going to
Canterbury?

But still. A Dane. A Viking. And Raef's deadly enemy.
"Alfrida, how can you long for a man with a name like Ravenbringer? Deathbringer. How many of our neighbors has he killed?"

"
How many Danes has Raef killed?"

"
That's not the same. The Danes are invaders!"

"
And in the past, our ancestors invaded here and killed those who resisted. Men kill one another. That seems to be their fate. Ours is to love them despite it." Alfrida began to pick up objects—a comb, a cloak-ring, a pouch of herbs.

"
What are you doing?"

"
Preparing to leave."

Hera put herself between her sister and the door.
"Oh no. If you try, I'll get Raef to stop you again."

Alfrida's face crumpled into tears. Unlike Hera, Alfrida cried easily, big fat tears swelling in her eyes and trickling down her cheeks.
"Hera, please. You know what the Danes are like. They come. They go. How long will he stay nearby? I can't bear it."

Hera truly thought the whole world had gone mad, but she couldn't let this happen. Alfrida was her younger sister. Younger only by eighteen months, but younger and thus hers to guide.

"Alfrida," she said as calmly as she could, "you were seized by the Danish raiders and raped-"

"
What's rape?" Alfrida demanded.

"
Taken against your will. You were, weren't you?"

Alfrida chewed the end of her plait, which was looking rather overchewed.
"I didn't want to be seized. I was terrified. Magnus terrified me, too, at first. He's very big." This, however, was said in a rather dreamy voice. "I didn't think I wanted to share his bed. But... he persuaded me. By the time he did it, I wanted it. And it was splendid. And," she added, with a toss of her head, "if he thinks he can do that and just dump me back here and forget about me, he's wrong. Very, very wrong."

"
Alfrida! He's not a neighboring lad to be scolded. He's a
Viking raider
!"

"
He's a Dane who wants to settle here."

"
On Raef's land
?" Despite her plaits, Hera's hair felt as if it might be standing on end. "This is all nonsense and you know it. This Magnus doesn't even care for you. You said he dumped you here after he'd used you. He's doubtless raped a dozen others since then."

"
Since he only dumped me here yesterday, I doubt it's been a dozen."

Hera was tempted to slap her.
"What are you planning to do? Run out hoping to be seized again?"

"
Of course not. I'll ride to Acklingham."

"
Even if you pleased him for a while, he's had his fill of you, and now he'll toss you to his men."

Alfrida smiled, a secretive, powerful smile.
"I don't think so. I think he threw me out because he wanted to keep me. But men have short memories. I have to return to him before he leaves."

Hera knew common sense about the man's feelings was powerless at this moment, so she tried common sense about the situation.
"Since he's found comfortable winter quarters, I don't suppose he'll be going anywhere until the spring. You have plenty of time."

"
Hera! What if Christ does come on Christmas Eve, or Christmas Day? Or even on the solstice tomorrow?"

"
I thought you didn't believe such nonsense."

"
But He might."

"
Oh, Alfrida...." She was thinking like a child, and Hera only wanted to keep her safe. "If Christ comes, He must find you on your knees in prayer, not in fornication."

"
If Raef asked you to his bed, you'd change your tune."

"
I would not! He's a married man."

Alfrida stilled, mutinous anger fading from her face.
"Didn't he tell you?"

It was like a wolf-howl, harbinger of desolation. Hera wanted to run and hide, wanted to find a burrow in the earth and be like an animal, with no thought more complex than food and safety. But she also had to know.
"Tell me what?"

Her sister sat on the other bed, hands clasped in front of her.
"Edith's dead."

"
What? How?"

"
She drowned herself."

Hera shook her head.
"No. Why?"

"
She
was
raped. Really raped. Raef thinks it was Magnus, but it wasn't. I know him. He wouldn't."

Before Hera could argue that, Alfrida swept on.
"It was after Magnus took Acklingham. Edith was trapped there but escaped. She made her way here. But it had already happened. We cared for her, but her mind wouldn't heal. When Raef returned, that's what he found. Not long after that, she went to the river."

"
He blames himself," Hera whispered. "I see that now. But for no reason. It wasn't his fault."

"
Perhaps he said the wrong thing. Men do, about things like that."

"
Raef would never be cruel. He wouldn't!"

"
And Magnus wouldn't rape Edith." With a cynical twist to her lips, Alfrida asked, "Are all women blind to the men they love? Anyway, he hit me."

"
Magnus? Then-"

"
No! Raef!"

Hera looked for a bruise, but her sister was unmarked.

"All right," Alfrida said. "A slap. Still, he had no right."

Hera didn't even try to argue
—she couldn't summon words—but surely even Alfrida had to see how this must affect Raef. Despite her sister's besotted fondness, it doubtless had been this Magnus who'd raped poor Edith and then, as with Alfrida, thrown her out. Edith wouldn't have the spirit to escape on her own.

She said a quick prayer for that uncharitable thought.