Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) (21 page)

Wine and
food went flying as guests leapt to their feet.

Eni,
Annan, Aethelhere and Aethelwold grabbed what weapons they could and made their
way around the table towards where Eafa struggled to free himself of Eorpwald
and Caelin.

Raedwyn
watched, heart in her mouth, as Eafa drove his elbow into Eorpwald’s stomach
and twisted free. He then smashed his fist into her brother’s face and Eorpwald
crumpled to the ground. Writhing like an eel, Eafa smashed a jug of wine over
Caelin’s head and sent him reeling, before turning to face the enraged king.

“Filthy
whoreson!” Raedwald shouted, his face puce with rage. “Treacherous dog!”

Seaxwyn’s
screams filled the hall as Eafa and Raedwald grappled like lovers. The blades
of the weapons they wielded flashed as they slashed viciously at each other.
Dripping with wine, Caelin picked himself up off the floor, shook his head to
clear it, and edged towards the pair. However, it was difficult to get close to
them and Caelin was forced to hang back.

Raedwyn
reached under her dress and slid the knife free of its sheath.

Suddenly,
the king grunted and his face went slack. The carving knife slid from his
fingers and fell onto the rush matting floor.

A moment
later, Eafa screamed. The Mercian let Raedwald crumple to the ground, before he
staggered away, clawing at the knife protruding from between his shoulder
blades. Eafa could not reach the blade to pull it free.

Raedwyn
stood behind him. She had sunk the knife in to its hilt.

Eafa
turned, his face twisted in agony. His gaze fixed upon his new bride. In his
right hand he still held his knife – only now the blade was coated with blood.

“Wuffinga
bitch!” he snarled, staggering towards her. “I’ll cut your throat!”

Eafa never
reached Raedwyn. Moving swiftly, Caelin retrieved Raedwald’s carving knife from
the floor, stepped up behind Eafa and, grabbing the Mercian’s hair with one
hand, drew the knife across Eafa’s throat with the other.

Eafa fell,
choking, to the floor.

Raedwyn
stepped over her dying husband and fell to her knees beside her father.

Raedwald,
King of the East Angles lay, white-faced, gazing sightlessly up at the smoke
stained rafters of his own Great Hall. Raedwyn stared down at the wound that
had killed him – watching in horror as blood flowered across the sleeveless
linen shirt he wore. Eafa had stabbed him, once, in the heart.

Raedwyn
was vaguely aware of her mother kneeling opposite her. She looked up at
Seaxwyn’s stricken face.

“My love.”
Seaxwyn’s voice was a broken whisper. She picked up his limp hand and squeezed
as tears coursed down her face.

The Great
Hall had suddenly gone silent, save for muted sounds of fighting outside.
Shaking, Raedwyn got to her feet and looked down at Eafa’s body. The Mercian’s
face had frozen in a terrifying grimace. Even in death, he was frightening.
Raedwyn looked upon his cold face and wished his end had been slower. She had
stabbed him between the shoulder blades but she had wanted to twist it and
listen to his screams for mercy.

No mercy
for the man who had none.

Raedwyn
looked across at Caelin. Like the other slaves, he had thrown down his weapon,
just in case he was mistaken for one of Eafa’s men. Blood, Eafa’s blood,
stained his face. Caelin was pale but his face was resolute, with that same
strength she had seen in him upon their first meeting over a year earlier.

Caelin’s
gaze met Raedwyn’s for an instant before he knelt down and helped Eorpwald to
his feet. One side of her brother’s face was so swollen that he could not see
out of one eye. The blow had knocked Eorpwald out and although he was now
conscious, her brother staggered as Caelin supported him.

Seeing his
father dead on the floor before him, Eorpwald’s battered face crumpled. His
body sagged and he would have fallen if Caelin had not been holding him
upright.

“Father,”
he whispered, “I failed you.”

Once more,
Raedwyn’s gaze locked with Caelin’s.

“You tried
to save my father’s life. After everything he did to you. Why?”

Caelin
opened his mouth to speak before his gaze focused upon Eni, who was watching
him. Caelin closed his mouth and dipped his head, stepping aside as the king’s
brother approached.

“Eorpwald.”
Eni’s voice was rough with grief. “Did you know Eafa was planning this?”

Eorpwald
nodded, his eyes glittering. “Caelin warned me this morning. He overheard Eafa
planning to murder us all. I should have gone straight to father, but I thought
I could stop Eafa. I wanted father to be proud of me, like he was of
Raegenhere. Now, because of me, he is dead.”

Silence
echoed around the Great Hall then and all eyes fixed upon the king’s son.

“No
Eorpwald,” Eni replied gently. It is not you that killed Raedwald. Everyone
here saw you try to save him.” 

Seaxwyn
was sobbing as she rose from her husband’s side and let Eni enfold her in his
arms. Eni held Seaxwyn close and looked down at Raedwald, his eyes burning.

Raedwyn
felt tears scald her face as she stepped close to Eorpwald and placed a kiss on
her brother’s uninjured cheek.

“Eni
speaks the truth. The only man responsible for this lies dead at your feet.”

Raedwyn
turned from Eorpwald and knelt next to her father. Gently, she placed her hands
over Raedwald’s staring eyes. When she removed her hand, the king’s eyes were
closed.

“
Slǣp
fæder
,” Raedwyn murmured.
Sleep father.

Chapter
Eighteen

The
ancient Barrows of Kings loomed out of the mist. Their great shadows guarded
the eastern shore of the river Deben. Riding upon Blackberry, Raedwyn caught
sight of the barrows and remembered the last time she had been here, waiting
for Cynric the Bold. Thinking back to that day, Raedwyn recalled the pair of
ravens that had landed atop one of the barrows. It had been an omen, Raedwyn
saw it now; Woden’s messengers Hugin and Munin had come to warn her. She had
known it at the time, but filled with girlish thoughts of romance, she had
dismissed their warning.

So much
had happened since then – had it really been less than a year since she had
waited here for Cynric?

Behind
her, Raedwyn could hear the creaking of the wagon that carried the carved
wooden coffin. Her father lay within, slain by a man he had foolishly trusted.

Raedwald’s
burial was to be the most elaborate in the history of his people.

Wrapped in
a cloak, her eyes stinging from all the tears she had shed over the past day,
Raedwyn watched as a team of men; Eorpwald, Eni, her cousins and the king’s
thegns and ealdormen, dragged a long ship up from the river to the top of the
high bluff. They placed it in a trench that they had dug at the end of the row
of barrows. It was Cynric’s long- ship, with the carved dragon’s head on its
prow. Since its owner’s death, the ship had remained on the bank of the Deben –
now it was taking its last journey.

The men
erected a gabled hut amidships with Raedwald’s coffin inside. Around him, the
women placed their king’s treasures – personal ornaments inlaid with gold and
garnets, weapons, silverware, cooking equipment and coins. There were two
objects that Raedwald prized the most – his helmet, with its warrior face, and
his ceremonial whetstone, which he had always used to sharpen his sword before
battle. Seaxwyn and Raedwyn laid these treasures amongst the other items before
they climbed out of the ship, and left their menfolk to complete the burial.

The men
worked tirelessly, filling in the trench and raising a mound over the ship, as
a thick mist snaked around the barrows. Raedwyn stood beside her mother,
watching. Neither woman spoke – they had barely exchanged any words since
Raedwald’s murder. For the first time ever, Seaxwyn appeared old. Grief had
etched deep lines on her face, and her hair, once a fiery red, hung lank and
gray-threaded in a plait down her back. Raedwyn worried for her, but was
reluctant to attempt to comfort her mother. Seaxwyn was proud and
unpredictable, and Raedwyn suspected that a deep rage lurked beneath her grief.

In truth,
Raedwyn feared her mother would blame her for Raedwald’s death.

Caelin was
among the men assisting with the burial. He no longer wore his slave collar and
was dressed in a clean shirt, leather jacket and leggings of good cloth.
Alchfrid, Immin and Sebbi – the Northumbrian slaves who had helped defend the
Great Hall, also worked alongside Caelin. Eorpwald had given them all their
freedom, and when his father’s former slaves had asked if they could assist
with the burial, he had agreed.

As they
smoothed and shaped the surface of Raedwald’s barrow, Seaxwyn began to sing.
Her voice was beautiful and clear. The mournful funeral lament soared above the
barrows and through the stillness, chilling all who heard it.

Then dark comes,

night-shadows deepen,

from the north there comes

a rough hailstorm

in malice against men.

All is troublesome

in this earthly kingdom,

the turn of events changes

the world under the heavens.

Here money is fleeting

here friend is fleeting

here man is fleeting

here kinsman is fleeting.

þonne won cymeð,

nipeð nihtscua,

norþan onsendeð

hreo hæglfare

hæleþum on andan.

Eall is earfoðlic

eorþan rice,

onwendeð wyrda gesceaft

weoruld under heofonum.

Her bið feoh læne,

her bið freond læne,

her bið mon læne,

her bið mæg læne,

eal þis eorþan gesteal

idel weorþeð!

Raedwyn
blinked as her vision blurred with tears. Her father, the man she had loved
best in the world, but who had betrayed her, was dead. Buried under the earth,
surrounded by his treasures, he would now set sail for the afterlife. Never again
would she hear the timbre of his voice, or the rumble of his laughter. Worst of
all, she would never be able to tell him that despite everything she still
loved him, and always would.

Seaxwyn’s
voice faded and she let her daughter embrace her as the tears returned. Holding
her mother’s shaking body, Raedwyn was reminded, not for the first time, that
her mother had truly loved her husband. It was a love that had endured, even
through betrayal.

A wave of
sorrow descended upon Raedwyn, and she bowed her head as the tears streamed
down her face. Then, the feel of a woman’s hand, slender and cool, taking hold
of her own hand roused Raedwyn from her grief. She raised her head to see
Eanfled standing beside her. Her friend, who had attended the funeral despite
her advanced stage of pregnancy, gave Raedwyn a brave smile and squeezed her
hand. Alric stood beside Eanfled and he nodded to Raedwyn. Sadness lined his
face. Raedwyn gave them both a tremulous smile and squared her shoulders. She
had cried enough – tears would not bring her father back.

It was
then that Raedwyn saw Caelin. He was standing on the far side of the group of
men who had toiled all day to build Raedwald’s barrow. His gaze was riveted on
her face and, longing to go to him, Raedwyn stared back.

Eorpwald
stepped forward and faced the group of mourners. A livid bruise now covered the
left side of his face and his left eye had now completely swollen shut.

Despite
his injuries, Eorpwald’s face was resolute. His good eye glittered with
emotion.

“Today we
mourn the greatest of kings,” he began, his gaze sweeping the assembly that had
gathered around the base of the barrow. “Let not the manner of his death
diminish all that Raedwald of the East Angles achieved, or the prosperity that
this kingdom has known during his rule. I can only hope to be half the leader
he was.”

Eorpwald’s
gaze rested on Caelin then. The crowd grew still and all eyes fixed upon
Raedwald’s former slave – the man who had risked his life for the man who had
killed his father.

“Caelin,
son of Ceolwulf the Exiled – I recognize your valor,” Eorpwald said. “Despite
all that has befallen you since your father’s death, you warned me of Eafa’s
treachery and attempted to save my father’s life. There are few men who would
have done such a thing. Please come forward.”

Caelin did
as Eorpwald bid, kneeling before the man who would soon be crowned King of the
East Angles.

“I give
you back
Shadow Catcher
,” Eorpwald took a cloth-wrapped object from one
of his thegns and unwrapped it. The sword’s blade glinted, despite the dull
day.

Caelin
smiled as he took back his sword. “Thank you, milord.”

“I have
given you your freedom and returned your sword,” Eorpwald continued, “but name
a gift and, if it is in within my power, I will give it.”

Caelin’s
face froze for a moment; such was his shock at Eorpwald’s declaration. Until
then, Caelin had carefully kept his emotions locked inside, but when he looked
back at Eorpwald, all could see the naked gratitude on his face.

“My Lord
Eorpwald,” Caelin began, “there is nothing I would ask, except the hand of your
sister, Raedwyn – and that is only hers to give.”

There was
a collective gasp from the crowd. Some faces blackened in anger that a former
slave would dare ask for such a thing. Seaxwyn’s face pinched and her gray eyes
turned hard as she glared at Caelin. She shrugged off her daughter’s arm and
stepped away from Raedwyn, as if she had instigated this act.

Only
Eorpwald appeared unmoved by this announcement. He even smiled, although the
expression was more of a grimace on his swollen face, as if he had been
expecting it.

“Then, I
give you permission to wed my sister, Raedwyn, daughter of Raedwald, should she
be in agreement.” Eorpwald turned to Raedwyn and his face was serious. “Gone
are the days my brave sister when your future is decided by others. Now, I give
you the choice to make.”

Raedwyn
ignored her mother’s hard stare and exchanged a look with her brother that
needed no explanation.

“Thank you
Eorpwald.” She smiled, stepping forward. “And I accept.”

“What!”
Seaxwyn could not hold in her vitriol any longer. She grabbed Raedwyn’s arm and
yanked her to a halt. “Your father is barely buried and you plan to take up
with a
nithing!
Raedwald would turn in his grave to know his daughter
betrayed him so!”

Raedwyn
turned to her mother, her expression sad.

“Mother,”
she said softly, “the hate has to end now. I never betrayed my father in the
past, and I’m not doing so now. Father had his revenge against Ceolwulf, and if
he had left it there then he would still be alive.”

“To marry
Ceolwulf’s son is to betray Raedwald!” Seaxwyn shouted, her voice hoarse.

“Why?”
Raedwyn replied. “Both men are dead – the feud has ended. Neither Caelin, nor I
were responsible for the hate between them. We are finished paying for it.”

Raedwyn
left the words both women knew to be the truth, unsaid. Instead, their gazes
locked and Raedwyn let her response sink in. She understood her mother’s grief,
her loss, but she was finished with taking the blame for something that had
nothing to do with her.

“Mother,”
Eorpwald said gently, “Caelin risked his own life in trying to save father.
Raedwyn has since told me that he also saved her life. It is time to let the
past go. I know better than most, the effect that Ceolwulf’s treachery had on
our family. Hating his son will not bring your husband back.”

“Time to
let the past lie, Seaxwyn.” Eni stepped up beside the queen and put an arm
around her trembling shoulders. “Raedwald had his reckoning with Ceolwulf and
he should have left it there. Don’t make the same error.”

Seaxwyn’s
face crumpled and she sagged against Eni.

“I miss
him,” she wailed. “I want him back. Give me my husband back!”

Sadness
etched Eni’s face as he held Seaxwyn close and let her cry against his chest.
He looked across at Caelin then and nodded. It was a wordless gesture but all
there knew what it meant.

Eni was
giving Caelin and Raedwyn his blessing.

“There has
been too much bloodshed, too much death of late,” he said gruffly. “What
Rendlaesham needs is a real wedding, not that mockery of one.” Eni paused
there, his gaze meeting Caelin’s. “Now, why don’t you kiss the girl and
brighten up this dreary day!”

Eorpwald
laughed, Caelin looked stunned and Raedwyn blushed.

“Go on
then,” Eorpwald encouraged, his good eye twinkling. “My uncle has spoken, and
you had better do as you’re told!”

Caelin
smiled then, and the expression lit up his face. Needing no further
encouragement, Caelin walked across to where Raedwyn stood, her face flaming.

“Raedwyn
the Fair.” He stopped before her and inclined his head. “May I?”

Raedwyn
did not answer. Instead, she threw herself into his arms. Caelin’s mouth came
down upon hers, and he kissed her there for all to see.

The crowd
of mourners cheered. Raedwyn’s cousins Annan, Aethelhere, and Aethelwold made
the loudest noise, and the pall of grief and sadness that had weighed upon the
crowd lifted. Even Seaxwyn lifted her tear-stained face from Eni’s chest to
watch the lovers embrace.

Raedwyn
pulled back from Caelin, gasping for air, and her gaze locked with his. She
could not believe this moment was real. She had thought she would never be able
to see, let alone touch, Caelin again. Now,
wyrd
had finally turned in
her favor.

Her
brother had given her the freedom to love as she chose and she grabbed this
chance with both hands. She thought then of the lament her mother had sung as
Raedwald’s burial was completed. Their lives, friendship, kin, love and
happiness were all indeed fleeting – and for that reason she would not waste a
moment more.

“
Ic þe
lufu
,” she whispered into Caelin’s ear as the crowd cheered.
I love you.