Aetheling Eight

[ismenin]

Bless! Young Danwald by the talented primula_baggins


Phew! Well, not much to say, as I'm off to my sofa for a comfy lie-down, and a good rest. And why not? I hear you say. :D

I hope you like this, dear friends - yes, I do.





Thanks as ever, to ladysunrope for beta.


Aetheling - 8

Lighe lay with his eyes closed, his head swimming, and fumed inwardly, trying in vain to ignore the jolting of the cart.

It was bad enough that Swidwulf expected him to dress in women's garb to travel to...wherever it was they were going. But Dom and Lando had laughed, even though the latter was still weak, and he had submitted without question to the long gown and lawn headcloth. It was beyond anything. Lighe was still very angry at his treatment.

"I am a warrior proved," he had said, arms folded protectively across his chest. "I will not suffer myself to be humbled so."

Swidwulf had humphed, stating baldly that Leofric might send out men to find them. Small groups, who would search the island, and find them, unless they were well hid.

"No-one is looking for women, my lord, and you are no good to any of us dead. It is the only way. And you and the Lord Siglandus are both...strikingly handsome men."

Dom had laughed at this, and said. "Come, Aetheling! I would take your place, if it were possible. But I am a plain man, and in no wise could I pass for a woman. But you are as pretty..."

Lighe's look had stopped Dom dead mid-sentence, his fury apparent in every limb.

"Say no more, Amiens. I will do this thing to save our lives, but I do not do it willingly. No prince has ever been asked to act in such a fashion. Give me the gown!"

Dan had shaved off Lighe's beard, and laced the dress, for he could not, as yet, sit up without feeling sick and giddy. The two groups had set off in different directions; Lando, Rufe and Emm with two men driving the cart, to the north, and Lighe, Dom, Dan and Swidwulf, and their two drivers, to the east.

Swidwulf had sent the other men on before them. It would not do, he had said, to look as if they had an armed escort. No ordinary travellers would have such a thing.


Now, with the sun high in the heavens, Lighe lay as still as he could in the cart, covered by a thick fur and woollen blankets. His eyes were fast shut and he tried to keep his head still, for every time it moved, an exquisite pain shot down his neck, and bile rose in his throat.

He was listening to Swidwulf, Dom and Dan, riding beside him, and talking loudly and laughing. He wished he had the strength to tell them to be quiet. He was not amused at having to play the part of Dom's wife, and the three men accompanying him were making the most of the situation.

The cart stopped. "How are you faring, my lady?" Dom's amused voice came from somewhere above him, but Lighe dared not answer. He knew that if he did...

It was too late. He was violently sick into the straw beside his head, and after this had happened several more times, Swidwulf's voice was heard. "This will not do! He will be too weak to be moved if this carries on. We must hurry to the vill where a stop has been prepared for us. I sent one of my men earlier."

Dan gave Lighe sips of water, and soon they were trundling over a smoother path. Lighe vomited once more, and heard a woman's voice some short distance away. Swidwulf answered her greeting.

"Ah, god-den to you, goodwife. Here are my cousin and her husband, as you were informed. Alas, my dear cousin is still poorly. Is everything prepared?"

The woman assented and asked kindly after the sick woman and offered to help, but Dom had snatched Lighe up in his arms, and said his wife was too delicate a creature to allow anyone other than her husband to touch her.

Lighe cursed inwardly, even as he vomited over Dom's shoulder. Had he felt better, that act would have afforded him much pleasure.

"But her women, my lord? Surely she has a maid or two to serve her?" The goodwife sounded puzzled.

"Er...one broke her leg falling from the cart, and the other stayed to nurse her," offered Dan, extemporising wildly. "We left them at..."

Lighe used all his strength to keep from vomiting again, and as Dom carried him into a building and laid him on a bed, he put a trembling hand to his eyes and whispered, "thank you!" with real gratitude.

Then Dom spoke, and drove all grateful thoughts from Lighe's mind. "It may be my wife is with child, goodwife. If you have a healing posset I could give her, which will help with the sickness, it would be much appreciated. Then we shall leave her to sleep."

Clucking noises issued from the doorway, and Lighe, in an absolute fury at Dom's statement, tried to push the blankets off and get up, despite his nausea. Dom's hands pressed heavy on his shoulders.

"Now, my dearest love, do not distress yourself. The lad and I will be here to serve you - no-one else shall come near, I swear."

There was a laugh in his voice. Lighe, on hearing it, sank weakly onto the pillows, shaking with temper, and gave up.


In truth, Dom felt sorry for Lighe. He had tried to laugh him out of his anger, because it was Dom's own way of dealing with troubles, and, so far, it had failed. He realised how difficult it must be for a man as high on his dignity as was Lighe, to be forced to act in such a way - but Swidwulf had been right. If Leofric's or Cerdic's men were looking for them, they were not looking for women. It was the simplest way.

Dan was too much the awkward boy to pass as a matron, and Dom's face too manly. Lighe was the only choice. His delicate and regular features were perfect for the deception. It was plain the Aetheling felt humiliated by this, and Dom had resolved to make fun of the situation whenever the opportunity arose. It would infuriate Lighe, he had no doubt, but his anger at Dom might keep him from despair.

The goodwife had returned with a posset of her own brewing, that she kept in case sickness struck any of her household, and it was very efficacious, she declared. She stood by the door watching anxiously at Lighe, who looked pale even though his face was bruised. Dom barred her way.

"Please do not come nearer. We have found my wife can be violent when taken thus. It is most unlike her, as ordinarily she is the gentlest of creatures, but I understand that women often have odd humours in such a situation."

He took the wooden cup of posset and went to Lighe's who was lying back with his eyes closed.
Dom spoke for the woman's benefit.

"Come, sweeting; the goodwife has prepared this posset for you, which is good, she says, for women sick and with child. Will you not taste it?"

Lighe opened one bloodshot eye, took the cup in one hand, and threw it with all his force at Dom's head.

Dom ducked, and the cup hit the wall behind him, but when he spoke there was still a laugh in his voice.

"My love! This choler will not do - think of the babe!" He asked the goodwife to bring another cup, and a jug of water and a cloth to wipe Lighe's face.

As she left the room, Dom whispered, "you will drink it, my prince, or she will suspect something. And kindly treat me with more respect, at least in her presence. Am I not supposed your husband, and therefore your lord and master?"

Lighe did not deign to reply because the room was still spinning. As the woman returned with another cup, with a young maid behind her carrying the jug and some white cloths, they saw that the poor woman was bent over the side of the bed, making full and copious use of a bowl.

"I thank you, goody," Dom's voice floated across the room. "When she is better settled, I will give it to her then. But for now, peace and quiet is what she chiefly needs."

The goodwife looked sympathetically over at the bed. "Aye, you are doubtless right. I was in the same case when I was expecting my first. It maybe later I will be able to offer your lady some thoughts on how to avoid the sickness in future. My lord Swidwulf said she had fallen a few times in a swoon because of her condition. It is a pity to see such a pretty face bruised so."

Dom laughed. "It is indeed, But the bruises will fade and her beauty will return. I am sure, when she is feeling more herself, my wife will be grateful for your wise counsel, and hang on your lips, goodwife, this being our first child. Leave us now, if you please. My Hild needs her rest. Ernwald, you too - leave us please, and take the bowl, as I see the goodwife has brought a clean one."

Dan was a little late in recognising the false name he had been given, but he got up and took the bowl the woman had had tucked under her arm. He thought over the names as he placed the clean bowl on a stool beside the bed.

Dom was taking the name of Master Osfryd, Swidwulf's cousin by marriage, and a wealthy merchant come to visit from the mainland. Lighe was Hild, his wife. Dan was not known in this place, which was fortunate. He had not travelled here with his father on one of his regular visits, checking on his properties. It was Dan's place to remain at all times at his Prince's side - and that he would do.

He bowed to the bed and then to Dom and left quickly to find his father. He would know what to do next - Swidwulf was calm in a crisis, and this was balm to Dan's uneasy spirit. He knew Leofric and Seaned were both vicious men for he had witnessed their cruelty. And it seemed now that Cerdic was tainted with the same uncleanness. He spat in the grass as he was directed to the stables where he had been told he would find his father. His Da was a wise man, and Dan was certain that he would know what to do.

********

Lando, in the second cart, fared little better than the Aetheling. The first mile or two was bearable, but his wound began to hurt him sorely, and Emm could not but notice the pain on the man's face.

She stopped the cart and climbed in beside Lando. "I am no coward, Emm, I have been wounded before in battle," the man whispered, his face tight with pain, "but it hurts me, sore."

Emm knelt at his head. "If you can bear to move upwards a little, I can hold you." Rufe climbed in the other side and helped Lando sit up, and Emm took him in her arms, resting her back against the wood of the cart. "Is that better?"

"It is!" Lando breathed thankfully." Whichever man is fortunate enough to get you as a wife will have found a treasure."

There was a short silence as the cart started forward again. Then in a hesitant voice, Emm confided, "my father wishes me to marry Lighe. It may be - if Lighe is willing - I will be forced to it in the end. After all, Lighe must marry someone."

Lando turned his head to look at her, wincing as he did so. "But I thought you loved Lighe, maid? Would you do it if he was forced to it? Do not speak of it unless you wish to, but I have often found it easier to talk to a stranger on some subjects."

Emm looked down at the upturned face in despair. "I do love him, very dearly - but as a brother, Lando. Lighe is not a man for women, as you must know, not being one yourself. I love him, but not as a husband. Not to...lie with him."

"I have lain with many women, Emm, and know more of them than does Dom. You will pardon my speaking so plain to a maiden, but here, in this wild, things are different. May I speak of it? Of my thoughts?"

Emm nodded. "I am not used to sharing such things. My servants are just that - servants. They would not keep my confidences. They would run to my father with them, for they tell him everything I do...everything!"

"You may think I might choose Rufe or Dan, instead, but they are still boys, not thinking, yet of marriage. My father only thinks of advancing his position in the king's favour, whether the king be right or wrong. I have no-one in whom to confide, as I could not tax Lighe with this problem. You may speak freely to me."

Lando shifted slightly so that his back was cushioned more comfortably against Emm's small breasts, and thought carefully before he spoke.

"My uncle, Dom's father, is a just man whose kingdom is large. There are many lords in his domain. Lords and princes who must marry to have sons to rule their lands when they die.
I have seen marriages between people who have not met until their wedding day. I have witnessed men treat their wives worse than the lowest kitchen scullion because they were forced into wedlock against their choice, or against their ... inclinations."

His voice grew softer. "Little good comes of these unions. It is true that sometimes the couple fall in love, or become close friends, and live amicably together. But..."

He took a deep breath, and coughed. His wound was on fire, yet he needed to continue. He liked this young girl, so ardent, so full of life.

"...but I have met Lighe, and know a little of him from what Dom has told me. I think he is a man of honour. He would not treat you ill. He would show towards you all the deference due to your position as his wife - but he would be cold. As cold as ice."

"And you would fall in love with him, in the end, as women often do, I suspect, from all the glances I perceived being cast his way in the castle, and all there would be for you would be friendship and a kind tolerance and courtesy. But the ice would be there still, running deep and cold beneath it all. Would this suffice for you if you grew to love him as a wife should love her husband?"

Emm sniffed, and Lando's heart went out to her in her distress. "No," she whispered. "I could not bear it - it would be torture. I have so much love to give to the right man, but I despair of ever finding one. I hope Lighe has better fortune. He needs a man who will not coddle him, but who will teach him to unbend a little; to laugh at himself - and a wife who will accept such a marriage. I hope he will find them both."

They talked together with the ease of old friends, and when they reached the first stop, and two guards came out to carry him in to the house, Emm left him to Rufe, as she needed desperately to rest her stiff body.

Lando was aware, as he lay in the bed, of a slight sense of loss, which surprised him. He thought it must be Dom he missed, and on that thought he gave himself up to Rufe's ministrations.

Rufe was not a body-squire as was Dan, but he did very well, helped by the two guards, and soon Lando was as comfortable as a man could be with a knife wound in his back, and who was pretending to be a woman struck down by sickness.
If the goodwife who had been sent Swidwulf's message was surprised to receive in her house a woman who was tended only by two young men, and two outriders, she was wise enough, knowing well Swidwulf's uncertain temper, to keep her thoughts to herself.

********

Lighe slept the night through after drinking the posset. He refused to speak to Dom, in the morning, because he was still teasing, and it seemed to Lighe that Dan had joined in on Dom's side, forever asking his "mistress" if she were well, or needed anything. It did not occur to him that Dan was merely following his father's orders in the matter.

Swidwulf had had one of his men bring the women's clothing from Leofric's hideaway, and had given the two gowns to the goodwife, asking her to dye them a more suitable, darker colour.

The woman looked at him askance. "Dye them, my lord? But this one is the most beautiful - and expensive - scarlet shade. It seems a shame..."

Swidwulf waved his hand "It is not a suitable colour for travel, and neither is the pale blue. My cousin needs a fresh gown. She has soiled the other in her sickness. She cannot stay in her night robe for ever. Do what you can, woman. And if you can contrive to cut a handswidth off the length of one of them, I would take it kindly in you."

The woman sent one of her maid-servants to do the fell deeds, and it was not until she was supervising the churning of butter, later, that she bethought herself on it. She could see a darker colour would be better for travel, but why the lady needed any material removed from the length of only one of her gowns was a matter that puzzled her all day.

She returned with the gowns mid-afternoon. A brisk wind had allowed the light wool to dry out quickly and, she proudly remarked, the smell of the dye had gone also.

Swidwulf took the shorter gown and went to Lighe's room. The Aetheling look mutinous. His brow was dark with promises of retribution.

Swidwulf shrugged. It was to save his life; if he'd rather die than share a bed with Dom, and wear a frock, let him shout about it later, when all were safe.

Dom had slept well beside Lighe, and had not had his sleep disturbed by Lighe demanding anything. The Aetheling was feeling better.

Lighe had asked why he needs must lie beside him, and Dom had remarked that for a husband to sleep anywhere than beside his sick wife would certainly occasion remark. Lighe had to agree, but that was not to say he had to like such behaviour. No-one that was not invited there ever lay in his bed, and none had ever slept the night beside him. And Dom had most definitely not been invited.

Lighe eyed the freshly-dyed gown with some distaste. "It is the colour of horse dung," he remarked, trenchantly, the door being closed upon any listeners.

There was a twinkle in Dom's eyes. "I would have liked to see my wife dressed in the scarlet," he remarked, “there’s nothing like that colour to set a man’s heart aflame!” before leaving a seething Lighe to be dressed by Dan.

Lighe was glad to see him go. And so was Dan. It seemed to him the Prince of Amiens was bent on rousing the Aetheling to anger. Lighe rose from the bed, and rather unsteadily - for his eyesight was still blurred - stood for Dan to lace the dress on him. It took some time; there were more eyelets on it than on a man's tunic.

"I vow there is no man alive who could persuade me to stuff kerchiefs down the front of this gown," the Aetheling declared, hotly, and Dan pushed the proffered cloths hastily back into the sack.

Lighe stood back and glared at Dan, twitching the shawl he had been given to hide the deficiencies in his figure.

"Well?" Lighe asked abruptly. "Will I do?"

Dan did not know what to say that would not further anger his master. "I think father was right," he said, eventually, not looking at Lighe. "You are the only one that could carry such an imposture."

Lighe lifted his hands and slapped his sides in exasperation. "If only I had a knife, I'd show him how much of a woman I am!"

Dan smiled inwardly, knowing which he the prince meant - and it was not Leofric. Then he remembered.

"I have your knife here, my lord. I brought it from under your pillow." He delved into a bag and handed it to Lighe, who turned it over a couple of times before thrusting it into the girdle of his gown.

"Thank you, Dan. You are a good lad. Now, let us see if I can manage to get outside for a while."

But he failed. He was still giddy, and bumped into the side of the door just as the goodwife was bringing him a bowl of gruel.

"No, no, my lady!" she fussed, leading Lighe back to a chair. "You must rest! Think of the babe."

Lighe did not wish to converse with the woman, in case of discovery, so he meekly took the bowl, and with a grimace, ate the gruel. "Thank you!" he whispered, in what he hoped was a feminine tone.

After leaving Dan and Lighe with several words of good advice for the care of a woman with child, she took herself off to tend to the next meal, and Dan breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Lighe with an expert eye. His hair, shining and nearly black was as long, if not longer, than a woman's, but no lady such as Lighe's Hild was supposed to be would be seen wearing it in such a state.

"It seems your hair is somewhat tangled, my lord. Allow me to braid it up for you."

Lighe was about to protest, when he gave in. Dom was not by to witness his anger, so there was little point in flying into a rage. Also, he had his pride. If he was to play his part well, these things needed to be thought on, so he smiled at Dan and permitted him to comb through his untidy locks.

After Dan had finished, Lighe gave him permission to leave him and look about their new lodgings, and he was just pushing the last pin into the veil covering his head when Dom came back. He closed the door and stepped forward, leaning against the bedpost in a decidedly careless manner, began carefully examining Lighe, a grin on his amiable countenance.

"You look very well, my sweeting. The new gown suits your slender form to admiration. Your hair..."

Before he had chance to utter another word, Lighe leapt from his chair, and, drawing his knife, lunged at Dom, trapping him against the bedpost. He pressed the knife to Dom's throat with a shaking hand.

"I am not your sweeting, my lord. Remember that, in future, or I will be forced to slit your throat!" Lighe hissed, real menace in his voice and eyes.

Lighe expected fear. He knew, after all, how to kill with a stroke. He expected a trembling apology, and a promise from Dom to conduct himself with more courtesy in future. He did not expect what happened next.

Dom laughed and snatching the knife from Lighe's hand, threw it onto the bed.

Then still laughing, still maddeningly laughing, he took Lighe roughly into his arms, and kissed him.