Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (11 page)

She took great care with her appearance that night, brushing her hair until it almost shone and donning a light green kirtle and dark green overdress or
gunna
trimmed with squirrel fur, and a headrail made of material so fine as to be almost transparent, again brought out of the mysterious East by her mother’s brother.  Luke’s travelling companion’s gown was flung over the end of the bed and Emma picked it up and examined it with distaste then, as a gesture of kindness to her future sister in law, she left her second best kirtle on the bed for her to wear when and if she felt able to face the company.  It was made of light blue silk trimmed with white and, in a moment of impulsive generosity, she also left her a gold belt.  She had no suitable gunna to lend but the weather was mild, the travel stained outfit the girl had been wearing when she arrived was years out of date and seemed much the worse for wear.

They sat down to dinner late that evening, the boar had been old and tough and took a deal of cooking.  To her delight, Luke was seated opposite her and every time she glanced at him, she felt fire flush her cheeks.  The way his hand tightened round the stem of his goblet, the way his hair grew,  the turn of his mouth, those beautiful teeth when he smiled.  If he was to go away now she was sure her life would end.  She must think of something to say, he must think her an awful ninny freezing up like this.

Gulping her mead she decided that she would force herself to be alluring, witty and yet mysterious.  She signalled to Anstice to refill her goblet.

“Right!” boomed Oswy as he carved the boar “come now, Luke, you’re amongst family, from thread to needle boy, your story, begin.  Why, we don’t even know how old you are!”

Luke cleared his throat and took a sip of mead “I was born in Trenslo in Bohemia Uncle, twenty seven years ago, the eldest of four children.  Father never told me much about
Wessex
, he met Mother in
Bohemia
whence he had travelled after leaving here”

“So,” interrupted Oswy “your mother was Bohemian eh?  You must get your looks from her, your father was dark and smaller than I, although you have his eyes as I recall”

“Ssh Oswy, let the lad continue” chided Godgyth.

“My mother, Maria, was the only child of a Bohemian lord who had an estate outside Trenslo and when he died Father took over.  I had a happy childhood with my parents and three sisters and when I was fourteen I went to serve the local overlord in his fyrd and learned the arts of warfare.  At length Father’s health gave out and I came home to take over the running of the estate, Mother having by this time died”

“And who is Alodie?” cut in Emma, the mead giving her courage. Luke’s eyes met hers and she felt her innards melt.

“Alodie is the daughter of Osric of Melder, a Northumbrian thegn who had to leave his homeland fifteen years ago when the heathen overran his estates”

“From the fury of the Northmen may the Good Lord deliver us” whispered Godgyth, crossing herself.

“Amen” replied the assembled company.  Luke took a drink and a bite of apple, he was beginning to enjoy himself, he was making his story up as he went along and these idiots seemed to be swallowing it hook, line and sinker.

“Then the Norsemen overran our estates” he continued “twelve months  ago it was.  I was in Trenslo, visiting Alodie just after we became betrothed.....” to Emma, Luke’s voice seemed to disappear down a long tunnel and she began to sweat and shake.

No, dear Mother of God, no, not betrothed, not the man you sent in answer to my prayers.  Are you are testing me?   That’s it! He does not love her, he was forced to plight his troth to her because they were the only to Saxons in the outlandish place they lived.  He had no one else to marry, he does not love her, he cannot, if he does I will kill myself.......or her
frantic thoughts came stumbling into her head one after the other.  Then, she took a deep breath, a drink of mead and straightened her shoulders.
Well
she thought
if I can’t take him from that milk and water wench I am not worthy of him

“..........I was in Trenslo when word came to me that the heathen had attacked our estates and were in possession of the hall.  I made my way home and stayed inconspicuously in the village.  I discovered that all three of my sisters had been slain, of Father there was no sign” he turned to Oswy “I found him dead three days later in the forest”

The whole company crossed themselves and Oswy wiped his eyes “Ah, my poor brother, did he suffer?”

Luke shook his head “I have no way of knowing sir, but I think it would probably have been quick, he had been pierced by many spears”

“God rest him” murmured Godgyth.

“God rest them all” muttered Oswy “Edmund -  I barely remember him but he was my little brother for all that.  What happened then lad?”

Luke took a bite of chicken and shook his head “there is little more to tell.  My estates and hall were in enemy hands so I made my way back to Trenslo and tried for many months  to raise enough men to go back and slay the vermin who had killed my family but no one was interested.  Just after I arrived the heathen came in great numbers to besiege the city and Alodie’s father was killed in the fighting.  There was nothing left for either or us in
Bohemia
and I knew what would happen to Alodie if I stayed and was killed.  Yet I hated the Norsemen with such venom that I decided to offer my sword to my father’s country,
Wessex
, who were still holding out against them.  We fled at the dead of night, made our way slowly to
Gaul
and there, in a small village on the coast, we found a boat bound for
Wessex
.  That was where we were undone.  The owners of the boat agreed to carry us across the sea but in the middle of the voyage the pirates, for that was what they were, took everything we possessed at sword point, our meagre store of gold, our silver money, Alodie’s jewellery, even my sword.  They tried to dishonour Alodie but I threw three of them overboard.  Whilst I was fighting she had the presence of mind to throw a coracle into the water and jump into it.  I did likewise and as it was misty they lost sight of us.  We were cast up on the coast about fifty miles to the east about a week ago and made our way here by asking directions and sleeping in cottages and once in a tree.  Thank the Good Lord for clement weather.

The rest you know.  I had hoped to win some fame and perhaps a grant of land from the king and visit you when I was in a prosperous situation but I have come to you Uncle with naught but what I stand up in and throw myself on your mercy”

Silence fell - Oswy wiped his eyes then, climbing clumsily to his feet threw his arms around Luke “My boy, my boy” he sobbed “welcome home!  I have lost my sons but have been sent my own brother’s boy and, as for losing your weapons - Edwin, fetch me Cerdic’s sword and battledress and Aldred’s war axe and sceax, they will be my gift to you for saving my life!”

Luke held up his hands “Uncle, no, I really must protest”

Oswy slapped him resoundingly on the back.  “Protest away my boy, it falls on deaf ears.  They have been enshrined too long - ah here we are” and without more ado Luke was bundled into a chain mail shirt, or
byrnie
, which was too short but as Oswy said, could be lengthened.  The metal cap fitted exactly and with the sword in his hand he looked every inch the golden warrior of Emma’s dreams.  As he tossed the sword from hand to hand the fire caught the metal and it glinted.  Suddenly he glanced in Emma’s direction and his eyes seemed to glaze over
Lord, he has noticed me
she thought and simpering sweetly she raised her eyes adoringly to his.  It was then that she noticed he was looking past her.

“Ah, milady Alodie, so you have recovered at last” boomed Oswy. 

A soft musical voice replied “Yes, thank you, it was probably just the nights spent in the open and the lack of food”

Emma hardly dared to look.  What if the milksop was a beauty?  It was then that she noticed the dazed open mouthed expressions on the faces of the servants.  Heart pounding, she turned and looked and her dreams were shattered in that instant.

The milksop was not only a beauty but she out dazzled the sun.  By the side of this girl Queen Aehlswith was plain and she had had men literally dying for love of her.  Emma’s hair, of which she had once been so proud, was like rats’ tails compared to this Alodie’s.  Each plait was the width of a man’s wrist and the colour of melted sunlight.  Her skin was perfect, not even a pimple marred its perfection, her cheeks were stained rose and her lips full.  Emma looked in vain for a defect.  The chin was proud, the forehead broad but it was her eyes which were her chief beauty.  Huge pools, so deep blue as to be almost violet, fringed with thick dark lashes.

Dragging her heartbroken gaze from Alodie’s face Emma inspected the rest of her.  If only she was too fat or too thin but no, she had a full firm bosom, slim waist and curvaceous hips, the bitch had the body of an angel, no, not an angel, they were sexless, a she devil, sent to Earth to tempt men.  Never had Emma’s blue gown been worn to such effect, the men in the room could not take their eyes from her.  Emma gave up.  Hope was dead.

The girl took a seat next to Oswy who, beaming expansively, made the introductions.

“Alodie, this is my wife, Godgyth, who you have already met, and my stepdaughter, Emma”.

“Charmed, Emma” said Alodie, and held out her hand, smiling.

Mother Mary
thought Emma
even her teeth are perfect.
  She took Alodie’s cool patrician hand in her clammy one.   “Likewise” she replied between gritted teeth.

“I have been telling Luke that I want the two of you to consider this your home.” announced Oswy   “It is more than large enough to hold a second family and I do not think that my stepdaughter will marry now.  It will be good for her to have a sister to pass the time with” he continued, driving another nail into Emma’s coffin.

“And I think” cut in Godgyth “that the sooner the two of you are married the better.  Father Anselm, the priest for this village, returns from his visit home soon and when her does we’ll get the pair of you wed, you’ve been wandering alone, unmarried, too long for decency”

“Wed! - Oh no!” interjected Alodie quickly  “I mean, it is too soon - er, I mean I am not ready!”

A flicker of hope stirred in Emma’s breast.  She did not love him!  Was it possible?

“Pish tush” said Godgyth “you’re as ready as you ever will be for heaven’s sake and any preparations to be made we’ll make, won’t we Emma?”

Emma felt sick, tears began to splash hotly on to her hands, no one noticed.  She got to her feet “I - I feel ill, I have a headache, I think I would like to go to my room” she stammered.  No one except Alodie even looked up.

“Goodnight Emma, I hope you feel better in the morning” she said quietly.

As Emma reached the top of the stairs she looked down, everyone seemed to be clustered round Alodie.  With the hate in her heart growing stronger by the second, she went to her room and slammed the door.

             
As the days turned into weeks Alodie found herself, to her surprise, actually beginning to enjoy life in Anglo Saxon Wessex.

             
Both she and Luke Owen settled into Thegn Oswy’s household almost is if they had been born to it, Luke at first going out with Oswy to hunt and then taking over a large part of it himself.

             
Alodie was fascinated by the day to day running of the community;  how the people were fed, what crops were grown, how the food was distributed.  The main pivot of Anglo Saxon agriculture, and therefore village life, she discovered, was the eight ox plough, and ploughing was done in strips or furlongs.  Peas, beans and leeks were the main vegetables, with carrots and turnips in the winter months.  Mostly, however, the land was reserved for crops of barley, wheat, oats and rye.  Alodie was aghast to learn that a large number of animals were slaughtered in autumn to save them from being fed through winter and that the meat was being salted and devoured right through to spring, by which time it was gamey, to say the least.

             
Alodie astounded Godgyth and the rest of the village women by being unable to sew as much as a seam or bake a loaf of bread but being able to read and write better than the scribes at court in
Winchester
.

             
She had a pet scheme to set up a village school for the children but Oswy vetoed it on the grounds that if he had serfs who could write they would be able to hold themselves above most of the nobility of Wessex and would balk at having to do day work for him weekly or boon work at harvest time -  this resulted in many a heated argument between Alodie and Oswy on the inequalities of the Anglo Saxon class system. 

Oswy did not know what to make of Alodie, never before had he met a woman with an intellect like hers. Certes, she could debate better than most of the court, who on earth had wasted their time teaching a woman all this?  She scared him, but he could not help liking her, she was so totally frank, so honest.

             
Godgyth too, liked her and although filled with awe at her obvious brilliance, nevertheless she insisted that Alodie learn at least some of the housewifely virtues.

             
What bewildered them most, however, were Luke and Alodie’s personal cleanliness which, Oswy thought, amounted almost to a mania and manifested itself in ways never before encountered in Bredond. 

             
To their amazement, Alodie insisted on having a bath every day and washing her hair at least four times a week, with Luke using the bath twice a week -  Godgyth declared they would take a chill to the brain and die.  Alodie was at first dubious about using the harsh home made soap but after a few weeks discovered her hair and skin improving in texture, whether it was indeed the natural soap or the unadulterated food she was not sure.

             
Working with the villagers, (they found she took time to talk to them and was good at curing minor ailments), Alodie felt almost happy.    She found wonder in everything - the beautiful surroundings, the sea as it rushed into the little cove she had discovered, the beautiful beach, the miles of sand dunes and the cliffs, the flocks of seabirds and the beauties of the surrounding woods, feeling rain falling on her face for the first time, the peaceful life of the village (once she got used to the smell), the beautiful warm weather, all served to lull her into a sense of security such has she had not known since she was a child.

             
Even the notion of marrying Luke Owen did not seem as ridiculous as it had once been, and although his manner and the airs he was beginning to put on with the villagers were really beginning to irritate her, she decided that, kept in his place, he was bearable, and as she would never have to sleep with him, she grew to quite accept the idea.

             
As a present Oswy had bought Alodie eight bolts of cloth, with the result that she now had five kirtles, four gunnas, a gauze veil for special occasions and five headrails.  He had also commissioned the village cobbler to make her five pairs of shoes, three sturdy outdoor pairs with wooden soles and two more dainty indoor pairs.  He had laughingly refused Alodie’s protests at the gifts saying that as all her clothes had been lost it was up to him, as her new guardian, to see that she was properly attired.

             
One of her major regrets was her inability to befriend Emma and, after several attempts, which were invariably met with surly rebuffs, Alodie decided that she was a typically repressed Dark Ages female and it would be better to leave her alone until approached.

             
Six weeks after their arrival Luke and Oswy were summoned to train with the fyrd in Winchester, however, two days before they were due to depart Farther Anselm, the village priest, returned home.  Luke, backed by Godgyth,  wanted the wedding to take place immediately but Alodie managed to postpone it until after their return so it was set for the second Sunday in September.

             
The afternoon before they set out Luke came across Alodie practising her sewing in the garden.  She was sitting on the low branch of an apple tree, surrounded by flowers.  Her hair was uncovered and, as it was hot, she had discarded her gunna and was just wearing a tight white kirtle.  She looked so lovely that it brought a physical lump to Luke’s throat.

             
On hearing his footsteps she looked up and smiled.  “How goes it then Luke?” she asked “are you ready to put your sword at the service of good King Alf or would you still prefer to blast ‘em with a good old fashioned psi gun?  God you have no idea how lucky you are, I wish I was training with the fyrd and you were sewing this lousy tunic, still I’m getting better”

             
Luke grinned and sat down at the bottom of the tree by her feet.  “I’ve no doubt the fyrd would like that too but honey, did you have to mention psi guns and ruin the illusion?”

             
“What illusion?”

             
“The illusion I had of you sitting amongst the blossoms with the sun on your hair, looking like the loveliest thing on God’s Earth and as far away from a star ship captain as you could get”

             
“Thanks for the compliment” she said “I suppose it was a compliment?” Luke grinned and taking her hand he drew it to his lips and kissed it.

             
“We’re making progress, two months ago you would have said
‘cut the sexist crap Lieutenant Commander’
, who is the tunic for, anyway?” Alodie withdrew her hand from his and held up the garment for inspection, the hem was  crooked and the stitches showed.

             
“Alyse’s little boy, you know, the cobbler’s wife.  Godgyth’s made me unpick the thing three times already - look, I’m still Captain Austen underneath, Owen, don’t get carried away”  A slight breeze rustled the trees, dislodging a few blossoms which drifted onto Alodie’s skirt, she brushed them away with an impatient movement.

             
“Fine thing to say to your husband to be!” he replied, taking his dagger from his belt and idly scoring the bark of the tree.

             
Alodie folded up her sewing and jumped down.  “Yes, well, we both know that this is only a marriage of convenience” Luke sat up and glared at her.

             
“What the hell do you mean by that?” he snapped.  Alodie absent mindedly stripped a twig of its bark.

             
“It means that this marriage is taking place because it is convenient to us both that it does.  We both know that its not a love match, we are both totally unsuited to each other, you dislike intelligent women and I don’t want a man at all.  It’s a business arrangement, it certainly does not give you the right to use my body for your sexual gratification.  Now please excuse me, I must get back to the house”

             
She pushed past him and started up the path, Luke got to his feet “Yes, well, Captain ma’am we’ll just have to see about that”

             
“Meaning?” asked Alodie, smoothing her skirts and turning to look at him.  He walked over to her.

             
“Meaning,
ma’am
, quite simply this - on 9th September we are to be married and, by all the laws of Wessex, you are mine to do with as I like” he gripped her wrist “and I certainly class
‘sexual gratification’
as you so quaintly put it, under that category”

             
Alodie shook her hand free, she was beginning to feel very angry.  The blood rushed to her cheeks.  What a bastard.  She looked up at him, eyes blazing blue ice “I’ll fight you tooth and nail Owen!” she hissed.

             
“If you push me too far, I’ll beat you”

             
“You wouldn’t dare - Oswy would stop you....”

             
“If I told Oswy you were denying me my nuptial rights he’d probably hand me the stick!  It’s 876 remember, and you’re going to have to act like a woman whether you want to or not – hey I’ve just had a horrible thought – you’re not into chicks are you?”

             
As Alodie’s eyes met his, Owen saw a flicker of fear and smiled.  She decided the only way to win was to bluff it out.   “If that is your way of asking whether I am a lesbian Owen the answer is no. I am, however,  your superior officer.  Am I to understand that your intention toward me is rape and violence?”

             
Owen smiled again, “to steal your phrase sugar
‘cut the superior officer crap’
.  I told you, I resign my commission.  If anyone’s the ‘superior officer’ now it’s me”

             
Alodie was quiet for a second or two.  She was dealing with a situation here that was rapidly slipping out of control.  That Owen was physically stronger than her there was no doubt.  In the past she had always had her position in the company as a shield - now there was no company, no back up, she was alone; she would have to rely on her wits to get by.

             
If the truth were told she was terrified of sex, both the physical side - the act itself - and the mental side.  She was half afraid she might come to enjoy it and then she would find herself Owen’s chattel for life, and she realised now that Owen was not a good person.  He was the last man on Earth, or anywhere else for that matter, she would have chosen as a husband.  He would treat her badly, wipe his feet on her.  She
must
keep control.  At length she glanced up at him, her eyes raking him coldly from head to toe.  “Forget it Owen” she said “it won’t work, I don’t respect you, you aren’t man enough to dominate me.  Marry Emma, she faints with rapture every time you look at her”

             
Gathering her skirts in an inherently feminine gesture, Alodie walked past him but as she did so he grabbed her waist, wheeling her round to face him, then pushed her against the trunk of the tree and kissed her with such force that she winced.  She felt his hands on her breasts and then they slipped round her back to unfasten the laces which held her gown together.  She wanted to struggle and scream but could not bring herself to.  She found, to her surprise, that half of her wanted this to happen, wanted it badly, whilst the other half was appalled and terrified.  Roughly, he pulled the gown, open now, from her and pushed her to the ground.

             
Alodie did not struggle, kick or scream, she felt strangely detached as if this were happening to someone else and she was merely an onlooker.

             
She felt Luke’s fingers unfastening the laces of the thin lawn shift which was her only remaining garment.  Her skin, where he touched her, felt achingly aware.  She felt, rather than heard, him moan as he freed her breasts then pulling  apart the last laces of her shift she lay naked to his gaze.

             
She glanced up at him.  Luke’s eyes were glazed over with animal lust and his features had taken on an almost bestial quality.  He began to rub her right nipple between his finger and thumb and then, pushing her breasts together, ran his tongue around and across them.  Against her will she felt her nipples becoming taut and a warm feeling begin to build up in the pit of her stomach.  Luke sat up and, struggling with the laces, discarded his tunic.  His loose shirt had fallen open and, as he pulled her to him, the thick blond hairs on his chest rubbed against her exposed nipples.  Throwing caution to the winds, and surrendering to the passion that was rapidly overwhelming her, she reached into his shirt, raking his back with her fingernails.  Luke struggled to free himself of his braeis, then his tongue became more demanding.  Tracing a line with it from between her breasts he ran it down over her stomach.  She arched toward him, moaning, and he looked up and smiled at her, but Alodie did not see anything approaching love in his smile, just victory.  Lowering his head, he began to kiss the inside of her thigh and then up further until she felt about to explode.  Lingering for a moment at her very core his tongue then moved up her body until it was again encircling her engorged nipples.

             
Alodie was beyond caring whether Luke was good or bad, she wanted him as a man, she needed someone to take her and he was the only one available, she had been celibate too long.  She felt his exposed maleness throbbing against her belly and moaning she once again arched toward him.