Authors: Maura Seger
Colin gazed at her in loving admiration. The words had cost her dear. She was pale and her shoulders trembled. Swiftly he moved to her side, not touching her but still close enough to offer reassurance.
"Direct your anger to me, Norman," he advised tightly. "Roanna has done nothing wrong."
Guyon stared at the pair, swept by contrary emotions. He was infinitely glad his sister had not suffered even as he felt some slight regret that she had left the shelter of innocence for the responsibilities of womanhood. The protective way the Englishman stood over her and her instinctive move closer to him forced him to give serious attention to her outrageous statement
Gruffly, he demanded, "Was this truly as you say?"
Meeting her brother's gaze unflinchingly, Roanna nodded. "It was."
A long sigh escaped Guyon. He looked from one to the other slowly. Reluctantly, he felt compelled to ask, "Have you given any thought to all the problems you've created?"
Colin drew Roanna nearer. She nestled against his side, safe and content Firmly, he said, "Together we can overcome any difficulties."
"What if I do not give my permission for you to remain together?" Guyon demanded. "How will you overcome that?"
It was, in the final analysis, the ultimate question. And only Roanna could answer it. Both men waited anxiously for her response.
"You know that my love and respect for you have no limits. But I cannot leave Colin. We will live together with or without your blessing."
She had feared her words would anger Guyon, but instead they seemed to reassure him. His own experience with his wife had taught him that such profound love could triumph over the worst dangers. A slight smile, the first in many days, curved his hard mouth.
"Before we come to that let us at least discuss the alternatives."
Roanna nodded mutely, hardly daring to believe her brother was at all willing to consider the only other real possibility. Seated at the table between the two men, she glanced from one to the other anxiously as Guyori launched into what rapidly became a full-fledged interrogation.
Patiently, without the slightest hint of rancor, Colin replied to pointed inquiries about his upbringing, training, position, wealth, and preferences on a host of issues from the philosophical to the personal. At no time did he show the least irritation. His every response was marked by reason and candor. Some of Roanna's tension eased as she realized more forcibly than ever the extraordinary depth of his strength, wisdom, and courage.
Even Guyon was reluctantly impressed. He had sat down prepared to find numerous objections to the marriage. Instead after several long, wearying hours he was left with none. Ruefully he was forced to admit that while his sister's behavior was shockingly improper, it was at least understandable. Colin was everything he would have wanted for her in a husband.
When he at last ran out of questions, Colin did not hesitate to take advantage of the silence. Seizing the initiative, he suggested that they be married at once and that the ceremony be held at the Algerson stronghold, since Guyon's keep was still too small and rough to house many guests. That many would wish to attend was not in doubt The joining of two such powerful and hitherto opposing families was an event not to be missed.
"Our supplies are more than ample. Would next week be acceptable?"
If Guyon was to quash their hopes, it had to be now. Roanna held her breath through the seemingly endless moments before her brother muttered, "So soon?"
Masking his immense relief, Colin flatly reminded him, "Several months from now we might regret delaying."
The point was well taken. If Roanna had already conceived, both men wanted to squelch the gossip that might result
Guyon hesitated only once more. Reaching across the table, he took his blushing sister's hand in his own. Their eyes held. "Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" he asked softly.
With greater assurance than she had ever felt in her life, Roanna nodded. No shadow of doubt remained as she confirmed, "This is right, brother. Believe me."
A moment more Guyon looked at them both, sitting so close together. He saw Colin's tender regard, saw the gentle smile that curved his lips as she returned his look. They spoke to each other without words, in a way Guyon knew quite well. Reassured, he allowed himself to be convinced.
But having decided to support the marriage, he was at a loss as to what to do next. Vaguely he knew mere must be decisions made about the dowry, guests invited, a priest chosen to officiate, and so on. Nothing in his experience had prepared him to take charge of such an event. Nor did the bridal couple have any clear idea of the preparations. They were far too caught up in each other to be more than vaguely aware of the rest of the world.
It was left to Brenna to see to it that all the proprieties were observed, if only belatedly.
She arrived promptly in response to her husband's startling message and lost no time assessing the situation for herself. Roanna was obviously happy, she radiated the supreme contentment of a woman who has found what she most wants in all of life. One look at Colin made it clear that her sister-in-law had chosen wisely. Though he and Guyon did not appear at all alike except for their unusually large size and strength, they shared certain traits obvious to the women who adored them.
The tender protectiveness Colin showered on his betrothed, coupled with his appreciation of her intelligence and character, boded well for their married happiness. It only remained to see them safely wed.
Barely had she arrived when cooks were bustling about preparing foods for the bridal feast tailors were stitching new garments, servants were scrubbing all the buildings within the stronghold and laying fresh rushes on all the floors, even the grizzled thegns and housecarls were getting their beards trimmed and polishing their armor.
Nor were the Norman retainers immune. Guyon had actually heard two of his knights arguing over who had the best gift for the couple, while the servants Brenna hastily summoned from their keep had set up their own kitchen to prepare the Norman delicacies they were sure the feast could not do without
He was at a loss to understand how any place as essentially male as an armed stockade could have been transformed so swiftly into a feminine domain. Colin shared his confoundment. Though the two men were still wary of each other, they found common ground in their need to escape, if only briefly, the whirl of female activity surrounding them.
They spent a pleasant afternoon hunting, returning late to the stronghold with a dozen deer and several braces of pheasant for the feast table. More importantly, they came away impressed by each other's abilities and more at ease than they had yet been.
Yet just as they were congratulating themselves on having at least the beginnings of an accord, they struck an impasse neither could surmount. It began after supper when Guyon raised the matter of the dowry.
Roanna had never given much thought to her marriage portion, but as she listened to her brother list its contents, she was frankly amazed. Because she helped to keep the estate accounts, she knew the extent of Guyon's wealth. Despite their lack of inheritance, he had acquired great riches in service to their overlord. Since William's victory, his properties had increased even further. But what he was proposing to relinquish as her dowry was still a startlingly large amount
Colin listened patiently. Not until the Norman was done did he say, "That is very generous. But I cannot accept it"
There was a moment of stunned silence before Guyon demanded tautly, "Why not?"
Colin sighed inwardly. He prayed for the words that would make them understand. "I know you hold lands in Normandy as well as here, but my people would never believe Roanna's dowry came exclusively from there. They would suspect you were making use of properties granted to you by William, properties which in the eyes of many were stolen from loyal Anglo-Saxon families. That is unacceptable."
"Are you seriously suggesting I let her come to you without property when you know full well a woman's worth is measured by her marriage portion?"
"Not by me," Colin said flatly. "I want Roanna only for herself."
The two women glanced at each other worriedly. No bride could take exceptions at such sentiments, yet neither could she ignore the importance of a proper dowry. Soothingly, Brenna offered the solution she thought obvious, but which had apparently not occurred to either man.
"Why don't you deed the contents of the dowry to their children?" she suggested to her irate husband. "Surely, Colin's people could not object to that?"
It was so simple that they were both embarrassed at not having thought of it themselves. Gruffly, they agreed. But with the dowry settled, the matter of the priest proved thornier.
To the Normans, any proper marriage was celebrated by the church. Without its blessing, a woman was not wife but whore, and any children were considered bastards.
To the Anglo-Saxons, it was not so straightforward. Granted some marriages were sanctified, but there was also the time-honored tradition of the "handfast" wife recognized by secular law.
Not for a moment did Colin believe Roanna should be content with this more ambiguous arrangement But he was also vividly aware of the anger his people felt toward the church because the Pope had approved the invasion. Since the conquerors came marching under a papal banner, the faith had been in great disrepute. Even native-born priests were reluctant to show their faces outside Norman territory.
Several possibilities were considered and rejected until Brenna remembered that an old priest who had served in the household of the late King Harold resided at a nearby abbey. Because of his connection to their martyred sovereign, it was likely Colin's people would accept him without demur. An escort was hastily dispatched to bring him to the stronghold. That night, Roanna slept poorly, tormented by the emptiness of her bed and the needs of her awakened body. She paced the floor nervously, unaware that not very far away Colin was in the same predicament Returning from an icy dip in the spring that had done little to calm his ardor, he counted off the hours until he could make her his forever.
"
I
've never seen anything so lovely," Roanna gasped. The bridal raiment laid out on her bed took her breath away.
A magnificent tunic of golden silk embroidered with traditional emblems exactly caught the color of her lustrous hair. The bliaut to be worn over it was of amber damask, that rarest of all fabrics imported from the East A belt of intricately braided gold thread lay beside it Nearby was a silk veil so finely spun as to be transparent and the jeweled circlet that would hold it in place.
Had the preparations for her wedding been going on for months, she would still have been surprised by such magnificent garb. As it was, she could not begin to imagine how the seamstresses had contrived to create the stunning garments so quickly.
Brenna laughed at her astonishment "It took a bit of doing," she admitted modestly. "I brought some lengths of fabric with me and found others here. Once I explained to the sewing women what was wanted, they went to work with a wilL" She smiled faintly. "I think it was quite a challenge to them."
Roanna nodded understandingly. Besides the haste with which they had to finish, there was also the difficulty posed by combining two such different styles of fashion. Never before would she have thought of wearing the pleated tunic of Anglo-Saxon design with a Norman surcoat But in this case, it worked perfectly. Her bridal garb was not merely beautiful, it was also a declaration of her hope that within her marriage the two peoples would be united.
As the servants removed her bath, Roanna poured a small quantity of cream made from attar of roses into her palm and began rubbing it into her skin. The rough stone of sand and pumice she had used while washing had smoothed away any suggestion of roughness. From head to toe, she was warm, honeyed satin.
A faint blush stained her cheeks as she thought of Colin's skilled hands running over her. Turning quickly, she pulled the linen chemise over her head to conceal her hardened nipples.
Her hair, washed in an infusion of marigold and rosemary, fell in a tangle to her waist Seating her sister-in-law on the bench, Brenna patiently toweled and combed it. As she did so, she kept up a running commentary on nothing in particular, which had the desired effect of distracting and calming the bride.
Though she had not been able to eat anything that morning, Roanna did accept a mug of tea made from valerian. She knew the herb would further soothe her nervousness.
Despite the tension growing in her with each passing moment, she saw a certain humor in the situation. She was going to a husband she knew far better man she could ever have hoped, to a wedding night that would hold much pleasure but certainly no shock. Yet she felt as anxious as an untried virgin confronted by a stranger.
By the time Brenna dropped the golden tunic over her head and smoothed it into place, Roanna was trembling. Her face was pale except for the unnatural brilliance of her tawny eyes and the lushness of her ripe mouth bitten by small, white teeth. Her hands were cold and her fingers stiff, so much so that she could not fit her circlet in place.
Brenna took it from her gently, easing it over her hair and veil as she said, "It's quite natural to be a little scared. But surely you know there is no cause?"
Roanna nodded numbly. Sounds were beginning to reach her from outside the bower. She heard the eager laughter of men and women gathering for the nuptials, the excited shouts of children who could not remember such a great event ever before occurring in their lives, the first tentative notes of flutes and harps beginning what promised to be many songs.
Aromas from the cooking fires made her stomach turn over queasily. She doubted she would be able to eat anything. It seemed beyond her even to move, yet somehow with Brenna's help she found herself at the door.
"Try to relax," her sister-in-law murmured. "This will all be over before you know it and then you and Colin will be alone."
Roanna held on to that thought resolutely. Over and over she reminded herself that she was marrying the man she loved, that this day was the culmination of all her most romantic hopes and dreams, that she was a fool to be even the least bit anxious.
The litany worked to some small degree. Greeting her brother, she was able to smile with some semblance of ease. Guyon was not fooled, but he admired the effort. He took her hand tenderly.
"I have only seen one other bride as beautiful, and I was fortunate enough to claim her as my own. Colin is a lucky man."
Roanna accepted the compliment automatically, without realizing the truth of it. She was unusually lovely under any circumstances, but the outfit she wore highlighted the startling perfection of her face and form.
Standing still, she was a golden goddess who could inspire awe in any man. When she moved, the woman was revealed in all her lithesome grace. Not even the most disciplined thegns or knights could be impervious to such beauty.
Guyon was all too aware of the ardent looks cast her way as they crossed the courtyard. He was glad for her sake that she did not notice them. Her composure could not take the strain.
Because of the balmy weather, the festivities were to be held outdoors. Carpenters had kept busy for days building tables and benches to hold the several hundred guests.
In addition to all those who lived in the stronghold, many others from the surrounding countryside were in attendance. None wished to miss seeing their lord wed. Guyon had prudently left a large number of his retainers to defend the keep in the unlikely event of trouble, but the Norman contingent still added dozens to the total.
No one came empty-handed. Numerous hams, roasts, cheeses, and breads were brought as gifts. Along with barrels of wine and ale, they contributed to the already more than ample supply prepared for the feast Far from the danger of anyone going away hungry, it was doubtful the guests would be able to budge when they were done eating.
Roanna's appearance brought a roar of approval from the crowd. Her beauty was lavishly praised and good wishes were shouted unstintingly. The press of guests eager to get close to her slowed their progress, but eventually the bridal party arrived before the small, open-air bower erected for the ceremony.
Beneath a canopy of fresh-cut oak boughs whose pagan significance he carefully ignored, the priest stood waiting.
At fifty-five, Father Elferth's slender frame and serene demeanor made him look at once far younger than his years and ageless. His fine-boned features were framed by thick dark hair freshly washed and brushed. He wore the simple fustian robes of his calling with a wooden cross his only ornament. The violence and grief of the months since Hastings had stooped his shoulders slightly and etched deep lines around his aquiline nose and kindly mouth. But they had in no way impaired his appreciation of what was about to occur.
Glad though she was to see the priest, Roanna gave him only the briefest glance. All her attention was held by the man waiting at his side. Her heart began to beat erratically as Colin's gaze met hers. Never had he looked so compellingly virile or so unexpectedly threatening.
The deep blue tunic he wore stretched tautly across his massive shoulders and torso. It fell to his knees, meeting the tops of boots made from the finest leather. In deference to the weather, the sleeves were short Roanna caught a glimpse of the wide gold bands at his wrists which with the bejeweled chain draped over his heavily muscled chest were the symbols of his rank.
The coppery pelt of his hair was brushed smoothly back and held in place by a learner thong tied round his broad forehead. In the bright sunlight, the harsh planes and angles of his face stood out in high relief. His mouth was set in a narrow, almost grim line. The quicksilver glimmer of his eyes held hers relentlessly. He appeared rock hard and utterly implacable. She could read nothing in his look except determination. The lack of any gentler sentiment made her tremble.
Guyon felt the tremor and glanced down at her anxiously. Colin's manner did not distress him, understanding as he did what a strain it was for a man to stand so close to a woman he desired without touching her. But he guessed Roanna might interpret it differently. Regretting that there was no opportunity to reassure her, he gently placed her hand in Colin's.
At the first touch of his skin against hers, Roanna started. The coldness of her fingers made his feel burning hot. She dared a further glance at him, only to be met once again by his inscrutable gaze. Her eyes fell, not to rise again even as the priest began to speak.
Father Elferth had seen the bride's nervousness and sought to ease it. His voice was deliberately slow and gentle, though loud enough to be heard by all the guests.
"We gather here today to witness and sanctify the joining of this man and woman into the blessed state of matrimony. No higher earthly union is so solemn and holy a covenant It symbolizes the spiritual union of Christ and his Church and as such it is inviolate. In this time of pain and turmoil, it is also a special reminder of God's love and His concern for us."
Covering their hands with his own, he prayed that the favor of the Lord would shine upon them, that they would always be a source of mutual comfort and support, and that if it was the Creator's will, they would be blessed by children.
Turning to the cross set above the altar, he blessed the wine and bread that were the living symbols of belief. As Roanna and Colin knelt before him to receive communion, the ancient Latin litany drifted over them, calling the faithful to everlasting life.
Having been so long without this ritual, many others wished to partake. Father Elferth had wisely brought several young priests with him who spread out among the crowd. After the briefest hesitation, men and women pressed forward to receive the salty wafers. Few eyes were dry as the grief-stricken memories of recent months slowly gave way to the hope of salvation.
"Before God and man," Father Elferth said at last, "I charge you all to recognize the sanctity of this union. May this man and woman be united forever as one flesh, one spirit, one will." Smiling gently at Roanna and Colin, he concluded, "In the name of Christ our Lord, I pronounce you man and wife."
The hushed silence erupted in joyful acclaim. Guests surged forward, each anxious to be the first to offer congratulations. In the melee, the bridal couple would easily have been separated were it not for the steely arm Colin kept wrapped around Roanna's waist Locked firmly to his side, she could hardly breathe. Her smile was frozen as she responded unconsciously to the rush of tributes.
In a departure from custom permitted only at weddings and the fertility festivals of early spring, the men and women were seated together. As the newlywed couple took their place at the high table, servants rushed to fill mugs and begin serving the seemingly endless supply of food. The first of innumerable toasts began, each more florid than the last.
Roanna was careful only to touch her cup to her lips and was relieved to see that Colin did the same. With the conclusion of the ceremony, he unbent a bit. Some of the tension eased from his rugged features as he joined her in accepting the company's good wishes. There was even a glimpse of laughter in the silvery eyes as acrobats and jesters darted about and songsters offered tunes which became increasingly bawdy as the afternoon wore on.
Though she had been prepared for a long feast Roanna had underestimated the effect of such prolonged celebrations. She accepted little food and ate even less, yet she still felt filled to bursting. The small amount of wine she sipped sent her senses spinning. The constant clamor of shouts, laughter, randy jokes, and the like made her head pound.
Long before the fight began to fade and torches were lit against the darkness, the small of her back ached She understood that it was necessary for a chieftain of Colin's standing to observe his marriage with proper expansiveness. But she could only wish it was all over and done with.
With the coming of dark, Father Elferth discreetly excused himself and his young priests. Their departure was the signal for a new phase of the festivities. The Christian rituals had been observed; it was time for the pagan to have its due.
Brenna had warned her of what would take place, so she was not unduly shocked by the sudden appearance of a figure robed and hooded in white, horns upon his head, and a red cord wound round his waist
The Norman guests, likewise prepared, had drunk enough to view the spectacle as no more than an interesting local custom. Only later would a few among them wonder where the line was drawn between ancient gods and the deviL For the rest their loyalty to Guyon would be too great for them to voice any such doubts.
Roanna swallowed hard as the figure approached. So forbidding was its appearance that the raucous merriment died away in an instant Even the musicians set down their instruments, their jaunty tunes replaced by a low, sinuous chant from the shadows.
Were it not for Colin's firm grip on her arm, Roanna doubted she could have stood. He led her to the open space before the tables where the figure had stopped. They exchanged a few words in a language she could not understand.
At a signal from the hooded one, several young girls stepped forward. Their hair lay loose about their backs. Their feet were bare. They wore thin white gowns that hid little of the beauty of their forms.
Flowers were laid around the bridal couple. Burning herbs perfumed the air. The hushed crowd leaned forward, anxious to miss nothing of this rite performed only at the marriage of great warriors.
A silver chalice was brought forward and handed to Roanna. Glancing into it she felt a rush of relief when she saw nothing more than wine. Holding the cup before her, she faced Colin. Silently, they both drank from it.