Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) (5 page)

A slow
smile crept across Caelin’s face, before he spoke again.

“That’s
better.”

Raedwyn
glared at him upon realizing he had goaded her deliberately.

To
Raedwyn’s right, Ceolwulf let out a loud belch and wiped his meaty forearm
across his mouth. He turned to Raedwyn, his face flushed with mead.

“It was a
stroke of good fortune the day I discovered Raedwald’s daughter was to finally
wed.” He winked at her. “Long have I waited for a chance to take my revenge.”

Raedwyn
stared at him as he continued.

“I knew he
would refuse to meet me in battle. After your brother perished, Raedwald no
longer enjoyed fighting his enemies. He has grown soft, unmanned by grief and
that shrew he married.”

Raedwyn
ground her teeth at his insults but managed to hold her tongue.

“I also
knew if he did meet me in battle, he could summon a huge
fyrd
, a king’s
army, with too many swords and spears for my men to fight fairly. In order for
Raedwald to obey me, I would have to possess something dear and precious to
him.”

“My father
will not let you use me against him.” Raedwyn was so angry her voice came out
as a hiss.

Ceolwulf
was unmoved. “You underestimate your father’s affection for you my dear,” he
rumbled. “With you to bargain with he will do exactly as I ask. He will meet me
in battle on Uffid Heath at dawn of the next full moon with no more than
two-hundred men. I will return you to him before we do battle but if he
breaches our agreement, I slit your throat. Tomorrow a rider goes to
Rendlaesham with my terms.”

Raedwyn
gave a bitter laugh. Silence fell around the fire pit. The men’s looks were no
longer lecherous, but hostile. 

Anger made
Raedwyn momentarily fearless. 

“It
matters not how much my father loves me,” Raedwyn spat at Ceolwulf. “You are a
fool to think he will be manipulated by the likes of you. You and your filthy
rabble will be cut down like the dogs you are and I will spit on your corpse!”

“Insolent
wench!”

Ceolwulf’s
meaty fist sliced through the air and caught Raedwyn across the face. Her head
snapped back and she fell against Caelin. Ceolwulf’s face was a mask of black
rage as he raised his fist to strike her again.

“Father!”
Caelin’s arm moved in front of Raedwyn’s face to protect her. “It won’t help
our cause if you bring the girl before her father bloodied and bruised!”

Raedwyn
sagged against Caelin. Her ears were ringing and her vision swam. He had hit
her hard – any harder and he would have dislocated her jaw.

Ceolwulf
lowered his arm, breathing heavily as the madness of his rage subsided.

“Insult me
again girl and I will give you to my men for sport,” he growled, turning away
from her and taking the mug of mead one of his men had handed him. “Get her out
of my sight.”

Caelin got
to his feet and pulled Raedwyn up after him. He dragged her back to her bower
and pushed her inside before pulling the curtain tightly shut behind them.

“Are you
hurt?” he asked.

“Leave
me!” Fighting tears, Raedwyn turned her back on him and stumbled over to the
far side of the bower. Caelin followed her, taking hold of her shoulders and
turning her back to face him.

He took
hold of her chin and gently touched her jaw where Ceolwulf had hit her. Raedwyn
winced and tried to pull away but his grip on her shoulder held her fast. Once
again, the sensation of his nearness was overwhelming. His fingers lightly
traced the side of her throbbing face and she closed her eyes to escape the
intensity of his gaze.

“When I
said my father didn’t like simpering women, I didn’t mean you should insult
him.” Caelin admonished her quietly. “Do you realize the danger you put
yourself in?”

Raedwyn
opened her eyes and stared at him, pulling her face away from his touch.

“I care
not,” she snapped. “He insults my father and expects me to listen to his lies.”

“My father
has reason to be so angry,” Caelin replied, stepping back from Raedwyn. “You
are blinded by love for your father and do not know the injustice mine has had
to suffer.”

Raedwyn’s
lip curled. “It appears to me that it is you who is blinded by love for your
father. I know Raedwald is a great man, a fair man. I see none of these
qualities in Ceolwulf.”

Raedwyn
watched Caelin’s handsome face stiffen and his eyes narrow. He turned from her
and walked over to the curtain.

“I am not
as easy to anger as my father Raedwyn,” his voice was hard, “but I warn you to
curb that tongue of yours in future. It will only bring you trouble.”

***

Caelin,
son of Ceolwulf the Exiled, returned to his place at the fire pit and stared
moodily into the flames.

“Here
Caelin.” Ceolwulf passed his son a cup of mead. “Drink up, there is plenty to
celebrate this eve!”

Wordlessly,
Caelin took the cup from his father and took a sip.

“The first
stage of your plan has certainly run smoothly father,” he admitted. “Now, all
we need is Raedwald to agree to your terms.”

“Which he
will,” Ceolwulf replied, his tone supremely confident. “After all, we hold his
jewel – his precious daughter.”

Caelin
glanced at his father’s face. All sign of the rage that had caused him to lash
out at Raedwyn earlier had disappeared and the Exiled was now in good spirits.
In truth, his father’s reaction to the girl’s anger had surprised Caelin. Women
did not usually elicit such a response from Ceolwulf; he treated most of them
as if they were beneath his notice.

Not for
the first time, Caelin wondered at the deep-seeded hatred behind Ceolwulf’s
quest for
gnyrnwracu,
revenge. He had always thought that there
was more to this whole story than what his father had divulged – but for a long
time it had been enough that Raedwald had wronged Ceolwulf, and would have to
pay for it.

Now
though, the whole affair was making Caelin uneasy.

Caelin
took another sip of mead and shifted his gaze back to the dancing flames in the
fire pit. Truthfully, he had not enjoyed today. The ambush had been bloodier
than he had anticipated and they had treated Lady Raedwyn roughly. Caelin’s
thoughts focused then on Raedwyn the Fair.

She was a
goddess – the kind of woman that men started wars over. He itched to tangle his
fingers in her mane of blonde curls. A man could drown in her deep-blue eyes,
and her full, sensual lips begged to be kissed. He wondered if she had any idea
of the stir she had created amongst his father’s men – the camp was alive with
talk about their fair captive.

Woden
and Thor save me, she’s delicious.
The soft swell of her breasts, that narrow waist and those curving
hips were a man’s dream. She had stood tall and proud before him after the
ambush, staring at him with a boldness that had taken Caelin’s breath away. Men
dreamed of bedding such a fiery beauty – although she had not yet spent a night
under his father’s roof, Ceolwulf had already lost his temper with her.

She was as
dangerous as a siren, Caelin mused. His father would do well to keep her out of
sight so that she did not distract his men.

Finishing
his mead, Caelin joined the rest of Ceolwulf’s warriors as they settled in for
the evening. Many stretched out next to the fire pit on their cloaks while
Caelin found a space for himself against the wall. He lay there, listening to
the rumble of men’s voices and tried to get comfortable on the hard dirt floor.
His father had gained his first victory, but this one would be his easiest.

Much more
blood would be shed before Ceolwulf the Exiled would have his reckoning.

Chapter Four

The scent
of wet earth and vegetation laced the cool morning air. Raedwyn stepped outside
Ceolwulf’s hall and inhaled deeply. The surrounding woodland glistened after
the rain, and water dripped off the thatched roofs. The ground was muddy and
all around her Ceolwulf’s settlement bustled with activity. A rider had left at
dawn, bound for Rendlaesham and Raedwald’s Hall, to state Ceolwulf’s terms.
Raedwyn imagined her father’s reaction to the news of his daughter’s abduction,
and shuddered. The king’s wrath would be terrible.

Ceolwulf’s
men were preparing for battle. Raedwyn watched them sharpening their weapons,
mending armor and shields, and sparring with each other. Picking up her skirts
to avoid muddying them, Raedwyn threaded her way slowly amongst the huts. Two
warriors followed her. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked ahead.
Men stopped working and stared at her as she passed.

After many
hours cooped up inside her bower, Raedwyn felt relief to finally be outside in
the fresh air and stretch her legs. She had dressed in a sky-blue linen dress
over a white tunic. Like many of the dresses she had packed, this one left her
arms bare, and usually she would have adorned it with a gold chain around her
hips and gold arm rings. However, today, she had kept her attire as plain as
possible and tied back her blonde curls.

The cool
air kissed the skin of her bare arms and, looking skyward, Raedwyn caught sight
of the sun rising about the edge of the trees. It would be a hot day, and by
rights she should have been sailing south on Cynric’s long ship, to her new
life. Not for the first time, she regretted her uncharitable thoughts towards
her dead husband. She hoped Woden had not read her thoughts and was now
punishing her for them.

Raedwyn
was so caught up in introspection that she nearly walked into the midst of a
group of warriors practicing swordplay.

“M’lady!”
One of her guards grasped Raedwyn’s arm and pulled her up sharply. 

Two
warriors wielding heavy swords were fighting directly in front of her. One of
them was Caelin.

Raedwyn
suppressed a flinch as the sword-blades clashed an arm’s length away from her
face. Caelin, dressed only in loose breeches, cross-gartered to the knee, was
sweating heavily despite the morning’s coolness. Raedwyn watched him fight. His
long, dark hair was tangled with sweat and his body, though lean, was muscular
and broad-shouldered. He moved with fluid grace, concentrating fully on the
fight.

It was
only when his opponent slipped in the mud and yielded, that Caelin realized he
had an audience.

Caelin’s
eyes widened when he saw Raedwyn staring at him, and his gaze locked with hers.

“Lady
Raedwyn.” He sheathed his sword and nodded brusquely.

Raedwyn
felt a blush bloom on her cheeks and hated herself for it. Why did this man
affect her so?

“My Lord
Caelin,” she said stiffly. “You fight well.”

 “My
Lord?” Caelin’s mouth twisted into an ironic half-smile. “My father was an
ealdorman but I hold no such rank.”

Raedwyn
felt her cheeks flame even hotter. She looked down at her clasped hands and wished
she was back in her bower. Silence stretched between them then and Raedwyn felt
the blush slide down her neck and bloom across her chest. He had just made her
look like a fool.

“Did you
sleep well milady?” Caelin spoke finally, moving away from where the others
continued to practice swordplay. Raedwyn fell into step beside him as he walked
through the village, back towards Ceolwulf’s hall.

“No, I did
not,” Raedwyn replied, before she stopped and met his gaze. “What will become
of me?”

Caelin
held her gaze. For the first time he appeared uncomfortable and unsure of how
to answer.

“Your
father will not keep his word,” Raedwyn continued, her voice low. “I will be
raped and murdered here.”

Caelin’s
face stiffened. “We are not savages milady. My father, for all his rough
manners is no murderer. Raedwald left him with no choice. He only wants back
what your family stole from him.”

“And what
was that?” Raedwyn asked.

“His pride
and dignity,” Caelin replied, “and nearly twenty years of life lost in a land he
hated.”

“I imagine
Gaul is not so vile,” Raedwyn answered him, and wondered, once again, what had
happened to her half-brother, Sigeberht, in Gaul. Raedwald was a fair man and a
good king, but he was not to be crossed. His good opinion, once lost was lost
forever. She understood him well for she had the same temperament.

Caelin
laughed at her comment. “Raedwyn the Fair, you have never left these shores,”
he teased her. “You know nothing of what lies beyond the flat horizon of this
kingdom by the sea.”

Raedwyn
bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a sharp retort. Caelin treated her like
a naïve, foolish maid. His comment stung and she wanted to hit back. However,
her temper had gotten her into trouble yesterday, and now she found herself a
little afraid of men.

They had
reached the main entrance to Ceolwulf’s hall and Caelin turned to Raedwyn, his
dark gaze ensnaring hers.

“Raedwyn.”
Caelin’s expression had become serious and the teasing tone was gone from his
voice. “After last night, I can understand your fears, but you will come to no
harm here I promise you that. Upon my honor.”

Raedwyn
watched his retreating back as he went off with his men to eat.

“Honor?”
Raedwyn’s mouth twisted. “You do not know the meaning of the word.”

***

The day
stretched on and Raedwyn spent most of it enclosed within the walls of her
bower. Only at dusk did her guards allow her out once more for a stroll around
the village. She had not seen Caelin for the rest of the day and, since he was
the only one who bothered speaking to her, Raedwyn spent the day in silence.

That
evening, Raedwyn remained in her bower when Ceolwulf and his men entered the
hall. The aroma of roasting mutton hung thickly in the air, reminding Raedwyn
of how hungry she was. It surprised her that she still had an appetite. She
would have thought seeing her husband killed, and her own abduction, would have
put her off food, but it had not. After last night’s skirmish, she doubted
Ceolwulf would demand she ate with them. However, she hoped they would not forget
about her – the delicious smell of roast mutton was making her mouth water.

Wondering
how long it would take before they remembered she had not yet eaten, Raedwyn
perched on her pile of furs and waited.

It was a
long while before her curtain twitched and Caelin looked inside.

“I thought
you might be hungry.”

“Starving.”
Raedwyn eyed the platter of mutton cuts, a wedge of coarse bread and a pile of
small boiled onions he carried in one hand, and the clay cup of mead he carried
in the other.

Caelin placed
the plate and cup on a low wooden table and turned to leave.

“Enjoy.”

“You can
keep me company while I eat if you like?” Raedwyn blurted out.

What in
Woden’s name made me say that?

Caelin
turned and looked quizzically at her.

 “Milady?”

“It gets
tiresome being closeted in here all day,” Raedwyn replied hesitantly,
regretting her request but too proud to take it back. “I’m used to my father’s
hall. I miss having someone to talk to.”

 Deciding
that she had humiliated herself enough for one day, Raedwyn sat down on the
floor and began her meal. After a moment’s hesitation, Caelin sat down opposite
her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Aware of his eyes on her,
Raedwyn ate the mutton, onions and bread. It was plain but good fare.

 “So you
were born at Rendlaesham?” she asked finally, licking grease off her fingers.

“I was,
Milady.”

“You don’t
have to keep addressing me as ‘Milady’. Call me Raedwyn.” She surveyed him over
the brim of her cup. “How old were you when you left?”

“Nine
winters; a young lad, but old enough to understand that I was no longer welcome
in the only home I had ever known.”

“Why did
you not stay with your mother?”

“She died
giving birth to me. My father is the only family I have.”

Raedwyn
digested this information. That explained his dogged loyalty to Ceolwulf.

“Did you
ever see me?”

“Once.”
Caelin grinned at her. “You probably don’t remember. You had just turned four
and had lost your puppy, Wuffa. I found him for you.”

The memory
brought a smile to Raedwyn’s face.

“That was
you? Of course I remember! It’s one of my earliest memories – the boy in the
orchard who rescued Wuffa. I looked out for you after that but never saw you
again.”

“My father
was exiled shortly after,” Caelin replied, before adding mischievously. “Did
Wuffa grow into a ferocious wolf?”

Raedwyn’s
smile widened. “He did. Wuffa was my father’s favorite on the hunt for many
years, until he got too old to run with the horses.”

Their
gazes met once more and air inside the bower suddenly seemed heavier than
before. Caelin broke the spell. He rose to his feet to retrieve her empty plate
and cup. Raedwyn handed the plate to him, accidentally brushing his hand with
hers as she did so. Caelin pulled away as if she had burned him and backed up
towards the curtains

“Good
night Raedwyn,” he gave her an enigmatic parting smile. “Sleep well.”

***

 Raedwyn
stirred amongst the furs. She languished in the softness for a moment, rolling
onto her back and stretching like a cat. Outside, Ceolwulf’s settlement was
already awake. Raedwyn could hear the bleating of sheep and goats, as men
herded them past her bolted window, and the rumble of voices. The aroma of a
stew cooking made her stomach growl. This village may have been makeshift, but
it functioned like any other settlement. Raedwyn yawned and sat up. Despite
everything, she had slept well – better than she had in a long while. Raedwyn
could not remember feeling so clear headed. Her senses were as sharp as a
sword’s edge this morning.

Raedwyn
washed and, using a bone comb her brother Raegenhere had carved for her many
years before, laboriously untangled her long, blonde hair. Then she broke her
fast with a piece of bread and a cup of goat’s milk.

When
Raedwyn stepped outside for her walk a short while later, the two guards that
Ceolwulf had assigned to escort Raedwyn at all times, fell into step behind
her. She had dressed in a forest-green dress and tied her hair back with a
matching ribbon. All of the clothes in her bags were unsuitable for life as
Ceolwulf’s captive. They were too showy, and Raedwyn felt the wolfish gazes of
Ceolwulf’s men follow her as she walked. Nonetheless, Raedwyn walked tall and
ignored the attention she was attracting.

Raedwyn
was half-way across the village when she spied Ceolwulf. Having not seen the
warrior since he had banished her to her bower, Raedwyn felt apprehension
flower within her upon catching sight of him. Her confidence wavered. Ceolwulf
was over-seeing the sword-smith’s work; testing that the blades were sharp and
weighted properly.

Ceolwulf
looked up, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the attention Raedwyn was
attracting. His men were stopping work to gawk at her like pubescent boys.

“Get back
to work!” he bellowed. “Have you not seen a fine bit of female flesh before?”

Raedwyn
felt her cheeks flame and she bit back a sharp reply.

The huge
man was as intimidating and unkempt as usual. His mane of dark hair was tangled
and his wild beard obscured most of his face. Ceolwulf wore an intense, almost
maniacal expression as he caught Raedwyn’s eye.

“As lovely
as a rosebud you are Raedwyn the Fair. It’s no wonder my men forget themselves
when you walk by. Yet, they need no distraction from their work. Go back to
your bower now and stay there till I give you leave.”

“Are your
men so weak willed that a woman amongst them is enough to turn them from their
work?” The words were out before Raedwyn could stop them. Despite her flaring
temper, Raedwyn’s heart thundered against her ribs as she spoke. She had not
forgotten the feel of the back of Ceolwulf’s hand. He still terrified her.

Much to
her chagrin, the giant laughed.

“So fair
and yet such a shrew,” he rumbled. “You are so like your mother.”

Raedwyn
clenched her jaw. She was not a shrew – and neither was her mother.

“It seems
any woman who does not take a liking to you is named a shrew,” Raedwyn replied,
watching his brow darken as she spoke but continuing nonetheless. “It’s little
wonder I see no women among your ranks!”

“My men
have sacrificed much to serve me,” Ceolwulf replied in a dangerously quiet
voice. “Females are a distraction, as your presence here proves. It’s your good
fortune that I need you alive as a bargaining tool Raedwyn the Fair, or I’d
have wrung your neck by now. Get yourself back to your bower.”