The Cross and the Dragon (13 page)

Ganelon paused for a moment and then kept walking toward the hall.

“Just as I suspected.” Hruodland spat on the ground.

The door to the kitchen opened, and Alda, Theodelinda, and Veronica spilled out. Alda rushed into Hruodland’s arms.

“Hruodland, why did you challenge him to a duel?” she cried. “He might have hurt you.”

Hruodland stood back for a moment and held her tear-streaked face in his hands. “Him? Hurt me?” He laughed. “I have faced warriors twice his size.”

Leonhard cleared his throat. “We should go to the hall. No doubt he is stating his case to the king.”

The party followed Ganelon. As Leonhard had predicted, Ganelon stood before Charles. “…and Your Excellence, Lady Alda was promised to me.”

“I was not,” Alda interjected from the security of Hruodland’s arms.

“Lady Alda, allow Count Ganelon to state his case,” said the king.

Alda seethed as Ganelon again said that she should be his bride. She bit her lip to prevent vile words from spilling out. To her right, Alfihar clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Count Alfihar, what have you to say?” Charles asked, his voice calm.

“My sister and Count Ganelon were not betrothed,” Alfihar replied in clipped tones. “We never had a pact. Your nephew had a far better offer for my family.”

“My lord king, if I may speak on my family’s behalf,” Leonhard said, his voice as calm as Charles’s, “Alda has seen fifteen years and has reached the age in which a marriage requires her consent.”

“He is lying,” Ganelon yelled. “He is her uncle.”

“Ask any of the learned men who travel with you, my lord king.”

The king’s archchaplain, who had overheard the conversation, interrupted, “The bishop of Bonn speaks correctly, Your Excellence. A woman of Lady Alda’s years must consent to a union between herself and any suitor.”

“What I am saying,” Leonhard stated, “is that Alda would never have given her consent to a union with Ganelon.”

“Lady Alda, does your uncle speak the truth?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” she said, glad to finally speak. “I never would have taken any vow to be united with that man. I would have joined the cloister on Nonnenwerth first.”

“You would have joined my cousin Radegunde’s strict cloister before marrying the count of Dormagen?”

“Yes,” Alda said without hesitation.

“If the bride will not give her consent, there is nothing we or the Church can do,” the king said, folding his hands under his chin.

“But you are the king!” Ganelon protested.

“We, too, are bound by Church law,” the king said, gesturing toward his archchaplain. “Fulrad said this marriage depends on the consent of the bride. While the bishop of Bonn has an interest in whom Lady Alda marries, Fulrad has no stake in this matter. Our judgment is this: the betrothal between Lord Hruodland and Lady Alda is valid.”

Mouth agape, Ganelon stared at the people about him. His baneful gaze fell on Hruodland and Alda. Alda trembled in Hruodland’s arms.

Hruodland remained steady. As the nobles step aside, he handed Alda to Alfihar and stepped into the clear space they had made. He pushed back the sleeve to reveal the scar from the Lombard and crossed his arms.

“Well, Ganelon, what will you do?” He made no attempt to mask his contempt.

“I shall leave this den of wolves,” Ganelon said through clenched teeth. He turned his hate-filled gaze to Alda. “And you, strumpet, you are worthless to any man without your dowry.”

“No one insults my wife,” Hruodland shouted.

He lunged at Ganelon and punched him in the gut. Ganelon returned the blow before a dozen guards separated the two. Alda leaned against Alfihar as Hruodland and Ganelon shouted new obscenities at each other.

When their curses were finally spent, Ganelon called to his servants. “We are leaving post-haste,” he barked. “Anyone who tarries will be flogged.”

Ganelon’s servants, bone-thin and clothed in rags, hurried to do their master’s bidding. Ganelon went out of his way in Alda’s direction. Hruodland raced toward Ganelon.

“I will be avenged,” Ganelon muttered. He turned on his heel and left.

Hruodland rushed to Alda. “What did the cur say?”

“He said he will be avenged.” Alda shuddered.

“Is that all? He has always said such things.” Hruodland shrugged. “Alfihar, why did you send the guards to separate us?”

“The same reason as before,” Alfihar replied. “If the blows between you and Ganelon led to a brawl, the women and children would be hurt.”

“Yes. You must protect the women and children.”

“A betrothal calls for a celebration,” Theodelinda called out as if to distract her guests from the servants hurrying to pack Ganelon’s possessions. “We shall feast on the fattest calves.”

Alda watched Ganelon’s servants.
No more of Ganelon’s hateful eyes,
she thought.
No more of that twitching hand. He is leaving. Gone, gone, gone from my life.
The thought was intoxicating. It made her giddy, so giddy that she could not stop giggling.

“What amuses you so?” Hruodland asked.

“I am so glad, so glad that you are my betrothed.”
And not him.
Her giddiness was tempered by his parting words to her:
I will be avenged
. She wondered what form his vengeance would take.

Chapter 10

Alda sat next to Hruodland at the betrothal feast. He placed his hand on her thigh, and she felt a thrill. She looked at him, eager to be alone with him, to know him intimately.

Then her mother called to her. “I must speak with you in private.”

Alda winced. She looked at Hruodland longingly and kissed him before accompanying her mother to a corner of the hall.

“What is it?” Alda asked, vexed.

“Do you think I am blind? Anyone can see your desire. You are not to lie with him before your nuptials.”

“What?” Alda said sharply. “He is my husband. I have every right to lie with him.”

“After we have the nuptials, you can meet with him all you wish.”

“It is not a sin to meet with my husband.”

“Sin has nothing to do with it. Hruodland has yet to deliver the bride price.”

“Hruodland is a good man.” Alda bristled.

“But he must get the bride price from his father, who knows nothing of this arrangement. And if his father does not deliver, we must still be able to negotiate with another suitor. We would be better able to negotiate if we can tell them you are still chaste.”

“No one would believe us.”

“They would believe us more if there is no baby,” Theodelinda retorted.

“But I want him now. I have waited so long.”

“You will have to wait longer.” Theodelinda’s face was stern.

“How long?”

“I do not know. The March of Brittany is far away. It may be a year.”

“A year!” Alda was about to protest. Instead, she bit her lip.
No use to argue
. “Very well, mother,” she lied.

Alda returned to Hruodland and asked to speak with him privately in a corner of the hall. She related the conversion she had with her mother. She was glad to see Hruodland straighten his spine and narrow his eyes.

“Your brother said nothing about waiting,” Hruodland snapped. “You are mine now. Not your mother’s. I will go speak to your brother at once.”

Alda touched Hruodland’s shoulder. “Hruodland, wait. I have a better idea.” She whispered in his ear.

“But we have no reason for secrecy,” Hruodland said. “We are betrothed. And what if I engender you with a child?”

“Exactly,” Alda said, her eyes shining. “If I were carrying an heir in my belly, your father would gladly pay the bride price.”

“But my father might doubt the child is mine. Not that I would,” he hastily added.

“Show him the sheets where we have lain. It will prove I have known no other man.”

* * * * *

When the lauds bells marked the ninth hour of night, Alda lay still in the bed, listening for the slightest sound. She heard only her mother’s soft breathing beside her and few snores in the solar. Using the light of the thick night candle, she searched the room with her eyes. Because the night was warm, the curtains on the beds had been left open. Alfihar slumbered in a bed three paces away, while Charles slept with Hildegard. Near the royal couple, Princes Pepin and Karl shared a bed with their nurses. Throughout the room, maids slept on pallets and cots.

Carefully, Alda slid back her sheet. She rose, naked, and put on a tunic that reached her ankles, then took a slender tallow candle and held it to the night candle. If someone did see her, she would say she was on her way to the privy.

She crept down the stairs to the hall and headed for the pallets where Hruodland said he would be sleeping. By the light of glowing embers in the hearth, she saw several noblemen had fallen asleep on the benches and floor, which felt cool against her bare feet.

She found Hruodland on two pallets pushed together. He opened his eyes when the candlelight fell upon him. He smiled and sat up. The sheet fell away to reveal his bare, scarred chest. Despite herself, Alda gasped.

“Those scars,” she blurted. “Do they cause you pain?”

“These? They are simply the marks of a warrior.” He patted the empty side of the pallet.

As Alda set aside the candle and sat next to him, she stared at the scars and touched one on his shoulder. “But there are so many.”

“I have seen many battles,” he replied casually.

His hand found the hem of her garment, and he slowly raised it to her thighs. She wriggled to get the garment past her hips and helped him take it off. He gazed at her.

“You are so lovely,” he whispered.

He drew back the sheet. Alda’s hand flew to her heart. Her eyes grew wide. “Hruodland!”

His arms encircled her, and he drew her down beside him into a kiss. She tasted his lips hungrily. She felt a thrill wherever his hands strayed. She had felt desire like this ever since she had become a woman two years ago. Hruodland’s presence heightened this longing, this ache that had a will all its own, this hunger that demanded satiation.

“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “Oh yes. Know me. Make me your wife.”

And he did.

Afterward, Alda rested her head against his bare shoulder, his arms encircling her.

“I wish I did not have to return to the solar,” she sighed.

“Stay here,” he said. “We are betrothed. Let them know we consummated our marriage.”

“You do not know my mother. She would give me no peace if she found out.”

“But if you conceived…”

“She will find out then.” She kissed him and sat up.

“Alda, wait,” Hruodland said. He turned and rummaged through the pile of clothes near his pallet. “I have a gift for you.”

He slipped a gold ring studded with rubies onto her trembling finger.

“It is beautiful,” she whispered. “I shall always treasure it.”

She rose, feeling giddy. She looked longingly at him one last time over her shoulder. He rested on his elbow, grinning dreamily at her.
How wonderful to know him
.

* * * * *

Descending the stairs with the other women just before sunrise prayers, Alda was shocked by what she saw. She had expected Hruodland’s tender smile and, near his pallet, the folded sheet she would arrange to be packed with his possessions. Instead, she was greeted with rumpled linens — and Hruodland’s dark eyes were burning through her.

“Mother, Hruodland and I will join you at Mass in a moment,” Alda said, hoping to sound calm. The other women’s faces mirrored Alda’s confusion, but they made their way to the chapel. Alda approached Hruodland and whispered, “What troubles you? Why is the sheet not folded?”