Aetheling Three

[ismenin]

A Little Prince


Hello there! I wanted to do a bit of writing before I posted this, but I have been reading, instead. Naughty me! Still, they are two of my fave occupations. No idea how I'll manage when my cataracts take over - not until they're removed anyway. Can't see that much in any case. But I'm sure I'll manage somehow.

I had the daftest dream last night about Dom, Lij and Orli. I was reciting the "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!" speech from Shakespeare's Henry the Fifth, and they were doing the actions...now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide, hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit...etc.,etc.,. They looked ridiculous, but it was so much fun! Yes, daft, I know. :D

Anyway, my friends, here's the next part of my story. Hope you like it.



Thanks as always to ladysunrope who, despite being dreadfully busy, took valuable time to beta this. Hugses.


Aetheling - 3



Lighe woke the next morning well rested after his aunt's potion, and jumped out of bed as he usually did. The pain that shot up his leg made him curse loudly, and Dan rushed to assist his master, bundling his pallet behind Lighe's chair.

"By Wodan’s balls, I had forgot!" Lighe grimaced, testing his foot gingerly on the floor. The pain had not lessened, but Lighe was getting used to it, and waving Dan's offer of help away, saw to his needs and settled in his chair, waited for his breakfast.

He told Dan to call a servant to bring it, as he wanted the boy to see to the hounds first, before he dressed, and thus it was that Dom found Lighe sitting in his nightwear, eating roast beef, the juices dripping down his chin.

Lighe grinned and called his visitor in. "Good day! When do you mean to start the lessons, Dom?" he asked, wiping his face in a cloth, and reaching for the ale on the small table beside his chair.

Dom sat, but refused a cup of ale. "I cannot drink if I am to acquit myself bravely this morning. I think I will wait only until you are dressed, then we shall go. Do you feel well enough to attend?"

Lighe cocked an eyebrow at his new friend. "Why do you ask? Do you think one small broken bone would stop me? You must think poorly of me, indeed."

"Not at all. It is always polite to enquire after an injury. I am only being courteous."

Lighe put aside his tray, and rose to his feet. Dan had placed his clothing at the foot of the bed and Lighe stripped off his nightshirt and began struggling into his trousers. He found he had to sit to do so, for he could not bear his weight on his injured foot, but Dom made no move to help him.

If he wants help, he will ask for it, Dom thought.

Lighe fastened his belt and put on his warm cloak. It was still chilly enough to warrant wrapping up, for the Great Hall was cold at the best of times.

"Have you heard anything from your cousin this morning concerning...Leofric?" Lighe ventured, carefully buckling his softest leather shoe onto his painful foot.

Dom laughed. "I have indeed. Lando left the man sleeping off his excesses. It seems my cousin quite wore the man out. He proudly showed me one or two bruises obtained in the skirmish, but boasted that Leofric had more of them, so he was pleased. You shall see Lando for yourself - he is attending the display. In fact, he has offered to participate. He is a fine wrestler; he will acquit himself well."

Lighe picked up his aunt's stick, and refusing the offer of Dom's arm, they made their way slowly down to the Hall.

*****

Dom had not been displeased with the wrestling. He and Lando had given a short bout describing the moves as they went along, and Lighe had sat and encouraged them, as well as the men who volunteered to be tutored.

Lighe noted that Orleans did indeed have several large bruises on his arms back and legs, but they in no way impeded his movements, and as Leofric did not appear at the meeting, Lighe fervently hoped that his bruises did hurt.

He was surprised, too, that Dom and his cousin had stripped down to their breechclouts. Some of the watchers whistled and made ribald comments, but Lighe saw nothing to mock. Dom had a fine, toned body, and, although small compared with his taller cousin, he was all whipcord and muscle. So was Lando, had Lighe wished to notice it, but for some reason he watched Dom's moves, and applauded Dom's bouts, until the servants came in and asked Lighe if they had permission to set out the mid-day meal.

Lighe sat with Dom and Lando over some very fine capon, and Lando made the prince laugh at some of the things he had to tell - in an laughing undervoice - over his bedding of Leofric.

"He thought I would come to him willingly, prince, but I made him beg like a puppy. Oh, yes - and he also thought he would be the one to take me. I soon disabused him of that notion, I tell you. I do not wonder he has not been out of bed this morning. He must be rather...um...sore, not being... used to it. I must go to him, if you will pardon me. I promised I would return to him after the wrestling."

Lighe waved him away, still laughing. "I am very grateful to you and to Orleans, Dom. It has been so pleasant without Leofric breathing down my neck."

Dom toyed with a morsel of bread. "Why do you put up with it? You are the Aetheling. No man should be allowed to harass you in such a way." He did not understand why Lighe tolerated the man's importunities. He knew Lighe was well respected - even feared in some quarters - yet he did nothing to stop Leofric.

Lighe returned no answer, and Dom let the matter drop. They had left the table and walked slowly outside before Lighe said anything. "I am the Aetheling because I am my father's eldest son. If he had a choice in the matter, he would choose Thrydwulf, my brother, who is much like him in every way. My father neither listens to me or asks for my counsel, as he does of the other lords - and of Thrydwulf. Although my brother is younger than I am, he is taller, more...manly...my sire would say."

There was a short pause as they waited for a trio of ladies to flutter past them. "He says I am as pretty as a girl, and that not kindly. I have had to prove myself to him in a hundred ways, where my brother is accepted without question."

"To be fair to Thrydwulf, he does not partake of my father's sentiments towards me. We have always shared a most amicable brotherhood. We ride...hunt together whenever we can...I miss him..."

They had arrived at the stables by now, Lighe leaning heavily on his stick, and Dom was just about to ask his new friend how his brother managed in the hunting field whilst suffering with such a debilitating lung disorder as his father's guest in the palace at Rouen undoubtedly did, when the hounds scented their master and started howling with pleasure.

Old Horsa came hobbling out, followed by a few of the younger ostlers. "Ah, my Prince! It is good to see you on your feet again. The hounds have missed you, that's certain. And Wychtread, too. A fine mare she is..."

Lighe put up his hand, stemming the flow, but he was smiling. "Peace, Horsa. You will drive the Prince of Amiens away with your babble. Bring him to his horse!"

As they left the stables half an hour later, Lighe said if his ankle felt better on the morrow they should ride out together. Dom asked if Lando should accompany them, then thought better of the suggestion. "Lando brings with him the threat of Leofric. I understand. I will not ask him - let them ride together...if Leofric's arse is up to it!"

They were still laughing as they re-entered the castle, and found Seaned, the king's brother, waiting for them.

He bowed, but only slightly, to his nephew. "Your father desires to speak with you, Lighe. He is in his council chamber.”

“Good-day to you, my lord." The man bowed to Dom, who favoured him with the merest inclination of his head. Dom did not like this man.

"You will be quicker than I, uncle. Go on and tell my father that I am following," Lighe said, quietly. Then he took his leave of Dom, and followed his uncle down the corridor, still leaning heavily on his stick.

Dom watched Lighe disappear, and was just going to visit the scriptorium, when a slight cough at his side drew his attention.

It was a young girl, not much above fifteen he thought, with light brown hair curling wildly down her shoulders, and a tremulous, but not unappealing, smile. With her stood a boy, taller but not much older, with the reddest hair Dom had ever seen.

Before he could say anything, she rushed into speech. "My lord I...we...wished to thank you for taking such kind care of our Aetheling. We are all obligation, my lord...I...we..."

The boy gave her an impatient glance. "What Emgel is trying to say, my lord prince, is that we are happy that our Aetheling has found such a good friend in you."

The girl turned on her companion in a fury. "If, Rufwald, you would kindly let me finish! I am not incapable of speech, you know!"

Rufwald sighed. "Yes, Emm - I do know. You are like a stream, never still."

The corner of Dom's mouth was twitching, but he maintained a calm demeanour.

The girl curtseyed. "I am Emgel, daughter of Seaned. Everyone calls me Emm," she smiled at Dom. "And this is Rufwald, brother of Swefred, the one you wrestled with last night, in Lighe's stead. We are grateful for it, that is all. We would not see him hurt by anyone. Lighe is our dear friend." Her chin went up defiantly.

Leofric's little sister. She seemed not to resemble her brother at all. He wondered what the young couple had meant by their comments, why it seemed not to be a good thing to be the Aetheling's friend, but Rufwald was pulling the girl away, whispering urgently. He soon saw why. Leofric was approaching, with Lando at his side.

Dom could not resist it. He turned toward the two men, and bowed slightly. "I give you good-den, my lord. Do you ride with my cousin? It is a fine day for it."

If Leofric knew he was being made sport of, he did not allow it to show. "No, my lord Prince. I am suffering from a...er...trifling indisposition - nothing serious I assure you. Perhaps tomorrow. We are merely taking a walk. I am showing Lando some of the finer points of our domain.”

His eyes, however, were on the two children hurrying down the corridor. "You have met my sister, I see. Or rather, my half-sister. She is the product of my father's second bed. My mother, alas, died, they say, of a broken heart. Who or what caused it to break, no-one has been able to discover."

Dom watched them go, and went to spend a relaxing hour with the books.

**

Lighe, on the other hand, was far from relaxed. His father and his uncle both looked displeased. "But have you discovered nothing about him, Lighe? This is ill news. We had hoped..." His uncle glanced at his brother, who nodded for him to continue, but Lighe answered before his uncle had time to speak, addressing his father.

"I have not asked him anything, sire. I did not know that was why you had invited him here. I thought it was to ensure Thrydwulf's well-being in France. Or was I mistaken?"

His father cleared his throat. "It was that, of course...of course.... But still we thought we might hear something to our advantage. You have been of no help to us in this matter, no help at all."

Lighe allowed his puzzlement to show. "But of what help could I be, father? And how will knowing the details of where Thrydwulf is confined assist him? We can hardly send an army in there to get him out. We must await the king's pleasure. Surely he will soon discover that my brother means no harm to his kingdom, and send him home to us?"

Cerdic waved an impatient hand. "Yes, yes, I'm sure he will soon be safe home."

Lighe bethought himself of another matter. "As I came here, father, I saw my mother's favourite maid carrying a pile of clothing into her room. Why did she not go with mother and Hilda? It is most puzzling."

Lighe, reaching for his cup, missed the glance that flew swiftly between the two brothers.

"My sister Hereswith sent her own servants to fetch your mother to her. She thought it would be more comfortable. And you know, your aunt has...odd humours, sometimes. It was thought better to indulge her in this instance, as she is sick. At least your mother had nothing to say against it. She is, as you know, a woman of most superior understanding."

Lighe returned no answer. He knew his father adored his wife, and would take the greatest care of her. But his father implied that if his mother made no objection to the way things had been planned, then it was no business of his to do so, either. The king was displeased with him...again. It was the story of his life, and his life had been far from happy, until...

He cut the thought off with a snap.


******


Dom was peering at a page in the beautifully inscribed book in front of him, staring at a monk thrusting inside another bent over a barrel. He did not know how these priests got away with such illustrations in a book supposedly read by those of pious inclination. It was a book of psalms, and Dom wondered what it was doing here, in a heathen land, where Wodan and Thor were worshipped - if worship was the right word for it. It did not seem to him that the Saxon gods were held in high esteem. Most of the oaths he had heard the men cry since he arrived in the land had concerned the private parts of these two gods.

A shadow fell across the page, and when he saw who had come in, he rose and bowed. "Lady Ermyngarde, have you seen Lighe's foot today?"

She smiled and sat at the table, the book between them. "Yes, I have just left him. His foot seems less swollen today, even though he has not kept off it as I advised. I trust you to keep him from his horse tomorrow, my lord. Then it will have a better chance of healing."

Dom's brow wrinkled. "I doubt if the prince will take kindly to my suggesting he does not ride, lady," Dom began, but she laughed.

"I trust you to find other diversions to keep him occupied. One can never tell Lighe to do anything, my lord. You will discover that soon enough."

Dom then bethought himself of a question that had puzzled him. "My lady, how is it that you have a Frankish name? Ermyngarde is the name of one of my cousins, yet your sister bears a Saxon name."

The lady put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her clasped hands. "My sister Mirdred's father was a Saxon lord. Mine was a Frankish princeling, no-one of import, now. I daresay he is forgot."

"A woman is allowed two husbands, if one die before the other. My father wished me named after his own mother, and so it was."

Dom's interest was piqued. "What was his name, lady - your father?"

"Abrahil." Dom shook his head. He had not heard of him. "You see, my lord? I said no-one knew him - but he was descended from the great Charlemagne in an unbroken line. I am very proud of him, even though he is long dead. He was a good man," she sighed, turning a page in the book before her.

"It was he who gave me this. He said I should find it both instructing and amusing, but I have never looked at it, not since he died. It reminds me too much of him."

She stood to leave, and Dom stood with her. "I am glad Lighe has you, my lord. He needs a good friend to watch his..." and then she frowned as if sorry to have revealed so much, and swept hurriedly from the room.

Dom sat down again, but pushed the book away. So much to think on. This place was full of intrigue, and he was not sure he was safe here - and it seemed to him that a few thought Lighe was not safe, either.

******

He did not meet Lighe again until the evening meal. The Aetheling greeted him warmly enough, but Dom spotted a wariness behind the open, blue gaze that had not been there earlier in the day.

Lighe, smiling at Dom across the meats as he took his seat next to him, wondered what it was his father expected him to do to obtain information about Thrydwald's whereabouts. Surely it would seem the question had been rehearsed. Besides he had no wish to assist his father or Seaned. Both men had made it abundantly clear that they thought that he was of no use to man or beast. He decided he would not ask, and smiled again at Dom as he passed him a roast suckling pig.

Dom was glad to notice that the cool look of a moment before had been replaced by something warmer. He glanced over the table at Lando and Leofric, who were feeding each other morsels of meat. Lando was smiling. He winked at Dom, and his cousin grinned back. At least someone was happy this evening.

Lighe was just about to leave the table when his father pulled his sleeve. "I am expecting you to do as I wish. Do not let me down. Your brother's life might depend on it."

Lighe left the table abruptly, and Dom looked after him in some surprise. He left the table and followed Lighe out into the large entranceway into the hall and quickly caught up with the limping man.

"Are you not well, Lighe? Have you not remembered we were engaged for a game of Taefl?"

Lighe stopped abruptly and flushed slightly. "I had indeed forgot, Dom. Forgive my rudeness. If you still care to play I can have a board and pieces sent to my room."

Dom examined Lighe's face carefully. His new friend seemed disturbed in some way. "Only if you feel well enough, my friend. I will not keep you to your promise if..."

"I feel well, Dom." Lighe broke in abruptly. "I am just...it is nothing. I will send for the board."

He stopped a passing servant and ordered the board and pieces be brought to his room, and some mead and goblets, and they walked slowly to Lighe's room, where it was discovered that Dan had spread his master's nightshirt on the bed.

"He is sleeping with the horses tonight. One of my mares is about to foal, and he is sure the event cannot take place without his being present. I am glad he is there. She is a particular favourite of mine, and I would wish someone to be there who cares for her."

Dom smiled, and put his hand on Lighe's arm. "Do you wish to go to the stables? See how she is? We can play Taefl any night, but a foal's birth is not to be had so easily."

Lighe's eyes lit up. "I would care for it! But...but..."

"But the king thinks it is below a prince to be interested in the creatures under his care?" Dom was incensed. It seemed to him that this king took delight in denying his son the simplest of pleasures.

Lighe did not need to answer as the servant came with the Taefl board and another with the mead and goblets. As soon as they had bowed themselves out of the room, Dom winked at his companion.

"Everyone will think we are here playing, if any should ask. And if someone comes to find us? Why, we have drunk too much and are taking the air!"

Dom picked up the jug of mead and threw three quarters of it out through the window, and poured a tiny drop into each goblet. "There! Now we may go. Is there a way there where we will not be seen?"

"There is. But you must get a warm cloak first; it will be cold in the stables."

Two minutes later Lighe was leading Dom down a narrow passageway that led to a side door. "It's where the servants empty the night soil. Not the most fragrant of places," Lighe remarked as they skirted the pit and headed for the dim lit stables.

There were not many present. Old Horsa, a couple of ostlers, and Dan and his friend, Rufwald, the red-headed boy Dom had seen in the castle earlier.

Both boys greeted Lighe with a bow and a rush of words, which Horsa stemmed with a gentle clip about the head. "Quiet you babblers! You will disturb she." He bowed to the two men and said, quietly, "she is not doing well, my lords. I would have sent for you, Aetheling, in another hour - Cerdic or not - for it may be that we will have to choose the life of the mother above the foal."

He lowered his voice even further, glancing at the boys. "I do not wish them to stay if we have to cut the foal, my lord. It..."

Lighe threw his cloak to one of the gaping ostlers and rolled up his sleeves. He knelt beside the sweating mare, and ran his hands over her.

Dom - despite the impression he had been careful to give Leofric of helplessness - knew a little of horses. And he saw immediately that the mare was weakening. He knelt beside Lighe. "What can you do?"

Lighe closed his eyes for a moment. "We can try to pull the foal out. See, there are two hoofs..."

No-one spoke, but Dom saw that Horsa was whispering to the ostlers, one of whom disappeared for a moment and then returned with a wicked-looking knife - a saw notched into the end of its blade.

Dan came with the rope and tied it around the foal's hoofs, and Lighe saw that his hands were shaking. "Do you go and make some warm bran mash for her, Dan. It will help her to have something nice after she has done all this work. Take Rufe with you."

Dan bowed and left, looking over his shoulder at the weakening mare. "She is his friend," Lighe said, quietly as he gave one end of the rope to Dom. "I cannot let him see...Now pull...steadily until I tell you to stop, or she will die, and the foal with her."

Dom closed his eyes, wound the rope about his hands, and pulled.



Taefl was the game before chess in Britain. Here's a link if you're interested. ttp://www.heorot.dk/tafl/