Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter One

Kingdom of the East Angles, Britannia

624 A.D.

The
dragon’s head broke through the rolling banks of mist and glided towards the
riverbank.  A sleek long ship followed in its wake. Silent, despite its great
bulk, the Saxon ship emerged from curling tendrils of mist that moved like
caressing fingers over its curved bow. 

Raedwyn
stood next to her mother, on a hill above the river, and watched the long ship
approach. Despite that she had been looking forward to this day, nervousness
tugged at the pit of Raedwyn’s stomach and she glanced sideways at her mother.
Sensing her daughter’s unease, Queen Seaxwyn reached across and squeezed
Raedwyn’s hand. Neither of them spoke as they continued to watch the long ship
dock.

On the
shores of the River Deben, Raedwyn’s father, Raedwald, King of the East Angles,
stood with his son, Eorpwald, waiting to welcome Cynric the Bold. Nine winters
younger than his king, Cynric was one of Raedwald’s most trusted ealdormen –
one of noble blood. Cynric the Bold would soon become a member of the
illustrious Wuffinga Dynasty, for tomorrow at noon
he and Princess Raedwyn would wed.

King
Raedwald had just passed his fifty-fourth winter but still stood tall and
muscular, although silver now threaded his thick, golden hair and his strong
face was lined with care and grief. Raedwald had never recovered from the loss
of his son, Raegenhere, eight years earlier. Eorpwald, quiet and diffident in
comparison to his charismatic older brother, was a poor substitute for
Raegenhere.

The gentle
splash of oars broke the stillness as the newcomers maneuvered their craft
towards the water’s edge. Raedwyn’s gaze fastened on the group of men on-board,
searching for Cynric. Despite the twenty-five years age difference, she had
heard the ealdorman was still a striking warrior to behold.

The long
ship came to rest in the deep mud at the riverbank and a group of men
disembarked.  As they heaved the ship closer to the bank through knee-deep mud,
Raedwyn caught sight of Cynric at last. He was a big, broad-shouldered man and
was dressed more richly than his companions. Gold rings sparkled across his
chest and his arms were heavy with silver bracelets and arm rings – all
tributes to his heroism in battle. A thick fur cloak hung from his shoulders. 
Raedwyn was too far away to pick out the details of his face but she could see
he had a short blond beard and thick sandy hair flecked through with gray.
Raedwyn felt a thrill of excitement. She had hoped he would be handsome. 

Satisfied
his long ship would not be washed away by the incoming tide, Cynric turned and
climbed the river bank. He raised a hand to salute his king when he caught
sight of Raedwald awaiting him. Cynric pulled himself out of the mud, strode
towards Raedwald, and king and ealdorman clasped each other in a bear hug.
Raedwyn could hear them laughing and talking together. She glanced across at
her mother and beamed, squeezing Seaxwyn’s hand tightly, her earlier
trepidation forgotten. Seeing her daughter’s obvious excitement, the queen
smiled gently back.

The
morning was dank and sunless but the mist cast an ethereal beauty over the
land.  Raedwyn turned from admiring her betrothed and cast her gaze over the
mounds of earth behind her.  She stood before a row of enormous barrows –
burial mounds.  Raedwald’s forebears were entombed here, as Raedwald himself
would be one day. It was a sacred place for her kin but nonetheless the
towering barrows made Raedwyn feel uneasy.

A pair of
ravens suddenly wheeled through the mist towards the mounds and landed atop one
of the barrows with a loud screech. Woden’s messengers were afoot. Woden, the
father of the gods, had two ravens, Hugin and Munin; one representing thought,
and the other memory. The ravens sat on Woden’s shoulders and whispered in his
ears about the events they saw in their daily flights over the earth. Raedwyn
cast a jaundiced eye over the birds before dismissing them.

This
morning, nothing could dampen her spirits. 

Mother and
daughter walked back to where the servants stood with their horses. The men
would join them shortly and then they would begin the long ride back to
Rendlaesham. The late summer air was sultry, despite the encircling mist.
Raedwyn mounted her shaggy bay mare and arranged her long skirts. Glad of the
mild weather, she had shrugged off her cloak. She hoped that Cynric would like
the forest-green dress she wore. The dress was made of heavy linen, girdled
below the bodice and with a wide, embroidered neckline that showed off her neck
and shoulders, leaving her arms bare. Raedwyn, although she had her father’s
coloring, had her mother’s build. Queen Seaxwyn was tall with a swelling bosom
and rounded rear, both accentuated by a small waist. Over the years, her
mother’s curves had spread to plumpness but she was still a stunning woman with
a thick mane of auburn hair only lightly touched with white, and quick gray
eyes.

Male
voices carried through the fog and gradually became louder as the king and his
companions rode up the incline towards them. Raedwyn’s stomach fluttered once
more, this time in excitement. She pushed back her long, blonde curls off her
shoulders and wished she had not forgotten her comb. 

Then her
father and brother appeared, followed by Cynric and a knot of horsemen. 
Raedwyn’s gaze fastened on Cynric. The warrior stared back, before his gaze
slid down her body and back up to her face. Finding her shape to his liking,
Cynric smiled, revealing good teeth for a man his age. 

“Cynric,
may I present my daughter, Lady Raedwyn.” Raedwald made the introductions. The
king’s voice was hearty, but knowing her father as she did, Raedwyn saw the
hint of sadness in his face.

Cynric
swung down from his horse and strode across to Raedwyn. Then, taking her hand,
he kissed it.

“My Lady…”

“My Lord,”
Raedwyn replied demurely, even as her heart hammered against her ribcage. He
had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. 

Cynric
released her hand and turned to Raedwald. 

“My Lord,
I will need to leave some men behind to guard the ship.  Can you spare four
spears?”

The king
nodded. “Coenred, Aldfrid, Oswyn and Yffi will stay with your men.”

The four
warriors Raedwald had nominated reined their horses back and retreated to where
the long ship was docked.

“We must
make haste.” Cynric strode back to his horse. “If we are to make Rendlaesham by
this eve – I am eager to wed this fine Anglian beauty!”

The men
guffawed loudly at this and Raedwyn blushed. Cynric mounted his horse and
winked at her. 

“There
will be plenty of time to woo my daughter Cynric,” King Raedwald grumbled,
spurring his horse forward, “let us ride now.”

***

They rode
northwest, across soft folds of feathery heathland, interspersed with clumps of
bracken and brambles. Gradually the heath gave way to woodland and, finally,
they rode through open terrain interspersed by clumps of coppicing oaks and
thickets of lime wood. A crisp wind blew in, chasing away the mist. The sun was
dipping beyond the flat western horizon when they reached Rendlaesham at last. 

Raedwyn
caught sight of the high roof of the king’s Great Hall and felt an unexpected
pang of sadness. The high-gabled timbered hall towered above the low thatched
huts spreading out from the center of the settlement. Her father’s hall had
been the only home she had ever known and in a day’s time, she would be leaving
it. Cynric lived far to the south and she doubted they would make many trips
here – especially once they had begun a family. Raedwyn chided herself for her
sudden melancholy and urged her horse on, through the tangle of timber
dwellings and along the winding dirt road that led up to the King’s Hall.
Crowds of townsfolk gathered at the roadside to welcome them. Everyone was in
high spirits, for there was to be a wedding tomorrow. A day when ealdormen,
thegns, ceorls and slaves – the four classes under the king – all took a day of
rest and made merry. 

Travel-weary
and hungry, Raedwyn rode past the gatehouse and up the final incline.  There,
before her, rose Raedwald’s Great Hall. Many throughout Britannia knew it as the
‘Golden Hall’, for its roof was straw thatch, making it appear gilded when seen
from far off.  Raedwyn dismounted her horse and followed the men up the steps
and through the entrance.

The
interior of Raedwald’s hall was a lofty space and a great hearth burned in its
center. A boar roasted on a spit and the mouth-watering aroma permeated the
whole hall. Richly woven tapestries and fine furs hung from the walls. Once
inside, Raedwyn left the men to down their first cups of mead for the evening
while she went to her bower to prepare herself for the evening’s feast.
Raedwyn’s bower nestled in an alcove behind one of the wall hangings. She felt
Cynric’s eyes on her as she ducked behind it into her small, but private,
space.

Raedwyn
sighed with pleasure upon seeing a large clay bowl of steaming water awaiting
her. Behind her, a young woman dressed in a long brown sleeveless shift belted
at the waist, drew back the hanging and stepped inside the bower.

“He’s so
handsome,” the girl whispered as she began unlacing Raedwyn’s gown at the back,
“even if he is old enough to be your father!”

“Eanfled!”
Raedwyn gave her friend a look of mock outrage. “Age matters not in love!”

Eanfled
snorted at that but made no response. Raedwyn turned round and let her maid
finish undoing her laces. Eanfled was right of course; the age gap between her
and Cynric was considerable. However, the king had chosen Cynric the Bold
especially for Raedwyn – the ealdorman’s honor and valor would make him a
worthy husband.

“He
certainly does not look like an old man,” Raedwyn reminded Eanfled, “and the
other servants say that older men make the best husbands!”

Eanfled
giggled. “You shouldn’t listen to those crones Raedwyn – it’s long time since
any of them had a man!”

“Stop it!”
Raedwyn laughed. “Not all of us have your good fortune.” She turned to Eanfled
then and gave her a wicked look.

“Not all
of us are about to marry Alric the Smith.”

Eanfled
blushed at that. She and Alric’s handfast ceremony was in two days – after
nearly a year’s betrothal. Raedwyn was happy for her maid, and only wished she
could attend. However, tomorrow she would leave Rendlaesham and journey south
with her new husband.

Raedwyn
shrugged off her gown and stepped out of it. Eager to set eyes upon her
betrothed again, she washed quickly while Eanfled hung up the dress and
retrieved the one that Raedwyn had chosen for this evening; a flowing white
dress with a gold embroidered neck and hemline that left her arms bare.

Eanfled
helped her into the dress and sighed at the sight of Raedwyn wearing it.

“You look
lovely,” she breathed. “I feel like such a drab in comparison.”

Raedwyn
raised an eyebrow and cast her gaze over Eanfled. Even in her simple attire,
Eanfled’s hazel eyes, creamy skin and long pale brown hair were of a gentle
beauty.

“Drab is
not a word I, Alric, or anyone in Rendlaesham would use to describe you
Eanfled,” Raedwyn replied archly.

Eanfled
blushed once more and handed Raedwyn two golden arm rings, one for each arm,

“I think
you should leave your hair loose tonight,” she told Raedwyn. “Men love it.”

Raedwyn
smiled at Eanfled’s knowing comment and slipped on the arm rings. The young
women were of the same age and had grown up together. They were close friends
more than noblewoman and servant.

“Are you
excited?” Eanfled asked as she combed Raedwyn’s hair. “You will be able to run
your own household. I know I’m looking forward to that.”

“I am,”
Raedwyn admitted, “and it’s about time. Eni says that if I wait much longer no
man will want me!”

At twenty
winters, Raedwyn was ripe for handfasting. However, her late marriage was due
to the whim of her father rather than lack of suitors. After Raegenhere’s death
– slain by her father’s archenemy, Aethelfrith of Northumbria – Raedwyn had
become his only solace. She was Raegenhere’s female counterpart, sharing her
brother’s sharp wit and exuberance. Her uncle, Eni, had pressured Raedwald to
find Raedwyn a husband, arguing that there were essential political and
military alliances to be made.

Cynric was
a good match, for he had a large portion of land to the south, near the Saxon
border. Cynric was loyal to the king and an important ally. However, these days
Raedwald did not seem to be interested in extending his kingdom or conquering
his enemies. He had become withdrawn and contemplative; even Queen Seaxwyn,
whom he loved deeply, had been unable to lift his depression. Only Raedwyn
brought a little sunlight into his days.

“It will
be a magnificent wedding tomorrow.” Eanfled arranged her mistress’s hair so
that it fell in heavy golden curls down her back. “I cannot believe you will
become a wife before me!”

“I’m sorry
that I will not be here for your wedding Eanfled,” Raedwyn replied. “It’s not
right that we cannot both wish each other well.”