The Saxon. Margaret Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ more about Freya, who had taken lovers after being deserted by her husband. For her punishment, she had been made a goddess of death, too. “I would wear twenty such charms if I believed in their power. I am pleased, Endredi, that you hope for children.”

      “I do, very much.”

      “I will do my best,” he whispered with a trace of wistfulness.

      Before she had time to wonder at his tone, his body covered hers.

      In a few short moments, the marriage was consummated. Without speaking, Bayard rolled away from her. Then she heard his slow, even breathing and realized he had fallen asleep.

      Clasping her amulet, Endredi stared at the thatched roof. Not once had Bayard kissed her.

      And despite all her prayers and resolutions, she was glad of it.

      * * *

      Adelar climbed out of the pile of fetid straw in which he had slept. His head throbbed, his mouth was as dry as old leather, and his tongue felt as if it was twice the normal size.

      Sluggishly he brushed at the stray wisps that covered his clothes as he went outside, barely aware of the daily activity going on around him. The stable lads traded amused grins as the mighty warrior staggered out of the building, and the older women at the nearby well smiled condescendingly. Some of the younger girls giggled, but those of marriageable age sighed wistfully. They knew that a warrior like Adelar would probably never marry anyone but a thane’s daughter. Still, they could look and admire and dream and sigh again.

      Adelar saw none of this. All he knew was that he felt wretched, the air was chill, and there was a slight touch of frost on the ground he was staring at. He made his way to the nearest water trough and sluiced cold water over his head, which brought some relief.

      He glanced at the hall, then up at the sky. It was a fine cloudless day and the sun was halfway to the zenith. The others had probably already broken the fast. Maybe not Endredi and Bayard...

      Adelar threw more cold water on his head, then slowly walked toward the hall.

      All through the wedding feast, he struggled not to stare at Endredi as she sat in the wide settle beside Bayard.

      Of course he had recognized her at once. Her calm, quiet beauty, her bountiful red-gold hair and her unforgettable green eyes. She had seen him, too, and for a moment he had thought...hoped...been tempted to tell Bayard that the wedding must not be.

      But who was he to go against his cousin’s plans, especially when he could not be sure of Endredi’s feelings? Once they had felt something for each other. They both had known it, and he, at least, had cherished it. Yet she had married another man.

      It was as if she had confirmed his worst fear—that he was not worthy of her love. He was, after all, his father’s son, and though he struggled constantly to prove that he was not the same as his traitorous sire, perhaps it only mattered that he was of Kendric’s blood after what his father had tried to do to her.

      The women at the well began to point, laugh and make jokes of the most bawdy kind. Adelar turned to see what they were talking of and saw Godwin at the door of the weaving shed bestowing a most impressive kiss and bold caress on Gleda. His breeches were half-fastened, and Gleda’s garments could only be described as disheveled. Clearly Godwin had not spent the night in the hall, or the stable, or alone for that matter.

      When the passionate couple realized they had an audience, Gleda pulled away, gave the women a saucy smile and sauntered off to the hall. With a dismissive flick of her hair, she passed Adelar. Her presence made absolutely no impression on him whatsoever. There was only one woman who occupied his thoughts today.

      Godwin made the women an impressive bow. “Greetings, my dears,” he said with great politeness. “I was not aware my every performance was to be observed. Ah, Adelar! Have we missed the meal?”

      The women continued to chuckle among themselves while Godwin joined him.

      “Greetings, Godwin. I believe you have already feasted,” Adelar remarked sardonically as he continued toward the hall.

      “And well, too,” Godwin replied with a sly grin. “But then, you would know how well Gleda satisfies a man.”

      “Apparently any man will do, too.”

      “Is the mighty Adelar jealous of a humble gleeman?”

      “Not at all. Take her, if she is willing. There are plenty of other women.”

      “Speaking of women, Bayard’s new wife is not as lovely as they said, is she?”

      “It is not for us to discuss Bayard’s wife,” Adelar replied coldly.

      “You’re in a terrible humor today, Adelar. What’s the matter—not enough sleep last night, eh? Who were you with, if not Gleda? Let me think... I know! That little slave Ylla has had her eye on you. Or perhaps that servant of Bayard’s wife. She is old, but you always say older women have a hoard of experience that they are only too willing to share—”

      “My only companion last night was a cask of ale, and I am ruing that decision now.”

      “What? I don’t believe it! And yet he admits it, too. Well, miracles do happen, after all. Adelar awakens alone for the first time in how many years? I must tell Father Derrick at once.”

      “Can you stop that wagging tongue of yours?” Adelar demanded. “You make my head ache.”

      “Speaking of tongues, is it not amazing what Gleda can do with hers?”

      Adelar did not wish to have a complete recital of Gleda’s abilities, so he began to walk faster. “I’m starving.”

      “Me, too. Shall we see what remains haven’t already been thrown to the dogs?”

      The door to Bayard’s bower moved and Bayard strode briskly out. “Good day!” he called, his breath like puffs of smoke in the chill air as he approached. “I am going hunting this fine morning.”

      Adelar looked away from the bower where Endredi had spent her wedding night. “It is a fine day indeed, Bayard. I will fetch my horse.”

      “I had intended to ask you to remain behind. Endredi needs someone to show her about the burh.”

      “I am not fit for a lady’s company this morning,” Adelar answered. “What of Dagfinn and his men?”

      “They are sleeping like rocks in my hall. I have left some men to guard them. I do not want to spend more time in their presence than I have to.”

      “I would be most happy to escort your bride about,” Godwin interjected.

      Bayard eyed Godwin. “Perhaps, but I would like you to escort Endredi, Adelar. You can speak to her in her own language, and I want to make her feel that this is her home.”

      His gaze was hard and firm, and Adelar knew he was as good as ordered to show Endredi the burh, although he would rather face ten armed Danes. “I will do as you ask, Cousin.”

      “Good. Since you seem particularly grim today, I think it would be wise to have Godwin go, СКАЧАТЬ