Avelynn (16 page)

“You look well,” Ealhswith remarked.

“And you, my friend, look as though you are about to burst.”

“And feel it too.” She wrapped my arm in hers and led me to the hall. “I know it's well past supper, but I thought you might be hungry after your travels, so I had the kitchens prepare a grand feast for you. I admit the gesture wasn't entirely altruistic.”

We ate companionably, catching up on innocent and unremarkable gossip—anything and everything but the real reason for the visit. When we finished, I watched her rub her lower back and groan.

“Are you well?”

“I grow tired of carrying this child around. Everything aches. I don't believe there's a spot on my body that hasn't made its presence known. Come.” She drew me to my feet. “My bedchamber is filled with thick cushions and soft blankets to ease my cantankerous body.”

At the far end of the hall, we made our way through a narrow passage that led to Ealhswith's chambers. Upon our entrance, she dismissed her maids, shutting the door behind them. It was a beautifully furnished room with carved panels and vibrant wall-clothing. The herb-scented rush floor was crowded with couches and chairs, which in turn were burdened with pillows of every shape and size. A handsome bed, carved with swirling vines and animals, dominated the far wall. With a grunt, Ealhswith dropped onto the bed, puffs of fabric billowing around her.

I rearranged some of the copious pillows to find station on a chair. “How does Alfred fare?”

During their wedding feast, Alfred had been stricken by a strange ailment. The court leeches couldn't discern what had caused the sickness, and there was much speculation that he might have been poisoned. In the end, no one knew the reason, and it had been some time since I had asked of him.

“He fares well enough, I suppose. He's still plagued by griping pains in his belly, but he tries to make light of them. No one at court is the wiser to his discomforts.” She rolled onto her side and grimaced. It looked as though the babe could come at any moment.

“Perhaps I should stay here with you. Not leave for the coast.”

“Having come this far with the ruse, my dear friend, I won't allow you to fail now. Besides,” she added, rubbing her lower back, “I'm living vicariously through you and am in need of much distraction.”

“Speaking of ruses, how do you know the old woman you sent me to see?”

“I've used her services in the past. Why?”

“Because she's a raving witch.”

She sat up and shrugged. “Perhaps. But her medicines work.”

“Do you know she has a pet bear for company?”

“A bear? How wonderful.”

“You wouldn't say so if it had sized you up as its supper.”

She propped her elbows on her belly and rested her chin in her hands. “Sounds positively thrilling.”

“She knew my name.”

“I assure you, she didn't learn it from me. I sent a message to my contact in Congresbury. But all it relayed was, ‘Tell your mistress a friend comes to call. She must not have children.'”

I rose and poured us both a cup of ale from an olive-green clay pitcher, its neck stamped with circles and notches. “That at least explains how she knew the reason for my visit.” I handed Ealhswith a cup. “She knew my mother.”

“That's not too surprising, is it? After all, there aren't many pagans left wandering about England. It makes sense they would perhaps know one another. Did you recognize her?”

“No, I couldn't see her face. She kept to the shadows the entire time.”

“Now, that's interesting. I wonder if you've met her before, and she wanted her identity concealed from you. Avelynn, you do get into the most fascinating situations.”

“Humph.” I wouldn't have been in that particular fascinating situation if it hadn't been for her, nor would I be in this one presently if I hadn't confided in her and agreed to see Alrik again. “What's the plan for this evening?”

“You'll retire to my guest cottage. There will be a black cloak hidden beneath the mattress of your bed. Three bells will toll, each marking the hours of the night office. On the third bell, it will be midnight. Leave the cottage at that appointed hour, and there will be no sentinel guarding the gate.”

I felt my throat tightening and took a healthy swallow of ale.

“On the southern side of the main road you'll find a horse saddled and ready. He'll be tethered by the King's Oak. You cannot miss the ancient tree. It is gnarled and massive; its twisted body stands sentry at the road's edge.”

“Should I be taking notes?” There seemed so many details.

She laughed. “All you need to remember is the cloak, the bell, and the tree. I've even taken care of equipping the saddlebag, so there's nothing to worry about.” She leaned back, a wall of pillows between her back and the thick oak headboard. “I've also included a flask of my finest wine—a gift to help get the festivities under way.”

“What was I thinking?” I muttered into my cup.

“You've nothing to worry about. I've covered every aspect of your disappearance. No one will see you leave. No one will know you're gone. And when you return, all will be well … though you must return at night. I'll leave a dove tethered to a stake behind the King's Oak. Release the bird and it will alert me to your return. Once you see a candle burning in the gatehouse, it will be safe to make your way back to the cottage.”

Fear blazed in my veins and gripped my stomach.

“Return at night, release the bird, and watch for the candle. That's it.” She rested her hands primly on her belly.

“This is madness.”

“Nonsense, I've thought of everything.”

“I can't do this.”

“What are you afraid of?”

I grabbed one of the colorful pillows and studied the detailed embroidery. Where to start? “I'm not afraid of the deception. Believe it or not, your plot doesn't concern me—much,” I added honestly. “I knew you would have thought of every possible scenario, and in that regard, you've outdone yourself.”

“What then?”

I traced the embroidery with my fingertip. “I'm uncertain what to do when I see him.” I could feel myself blushing. “I don't know what will happen … I don't know what to expect when he … takes me.” I'd heard enough bawdy remarks from the women in the village to know being with a man could be satisfying, and I was no stranger to exploring my own body and its pleasures, but I also knew lying with a man could hurt. I'd heard women whisper about bruises and being unable to walk for days afterward. Women also screamed and cried out. I'd heard my own mother often enough, and she sounded as if she was in terrible pain. When I asked her about her nightly sojourns, she just smiled and said it was a good sort of pain and that one day I would understand. But I didn't understand and, hidden behind the bed curtains, I couldn't see what they were doing, though in truth, I was too terrified to look.

“Come here.” Ealhswith patted the vacant spot on the bed in front of her. I lay down, facing away from her.

“There's nothing to be afraid of,” she said, stroking my hair. Her fingers brushed and lifted the long strands, and I felt myself relaxing.

“That's easy for you to say—you've been with a man.” The occasional sweep of her fingers across my back sent shivers up my spine.

The bed shook with her laughter. “Yes. I've been with a man and, really, there's not much to it, after you get over the initial shock of how the bodies fit together and where everything goes.”

I groaned and buried my head in one of her pillows. “I don't want to know.”

“If a man is gentle, there's no reason it should hurt. Unless his manhood is very large, in which case you will feel considerable discomfort until your body learns to ease and accept him. However, once your body becomes accustomed to his, you may find yourself quite appreciative of his considerable attributes.”

“What of the blood?”

She started braiding small sections of my hair. “That's more of a man's dream than a reality. Men like to judge a woman's chastity by the presence of blood, but chances are you bled when you were younger, galloping over hill and dale on your horse. You're not likely to bleed now.” She paused. “Though it's still possible you might, in which case it will hurt.”

“You're not helping.”

She laughed. “Close your eyes. Let me paint you a picture.”

I did as instructed.

“Does your paramour have a name?”

I hesitated. Alrik wasn't an Anglo-Saxon name, but I had told her he was a merchant … “Alrik.”

She shifted closer until I could feel the press of her belly against my back. “Good. Now I want you to imagine Alrik's kiss, imagine how it made you feel.”

That wasn't hard to do. I had replayed our encounter over and over again in my mind until I felt faint with desire.

“Keep imagining his kiss, his lips, his tongue, his breath heavy and hot against your skin.”

My body stirred. The embers of desire, so quick to light, caught and blazed through me. Her hand ran down the length of my leg until it found the hem of my skirt. Setting the cloth aside, her fingertips brushed the skin above my ankle.

“He's kissing you, but his touch, hungry and eager, conquers your body.” Her hand moved higher up the indent of muscle that outlined my calf, over the side of my knee. “His body aches for you.” Her fingers trailed along the length of my thigh, her breath warm and moist against my neck.

“Have you ever pleasured yourself, Avelynn?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

Her hand slid between my legs and I gasped.

“So you know what this feels like?”

“Yes.”

“There's a sweet channel that the man enters when he takes you. Do you know where that is?”

I shook my head.

“Sometimes he will use his fingers to help prepare you.” I felt her fingers glide through the wetness and then one stopped, teetering on the edge, just barely slipping inside me. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

Her finger slid a little deeper. “How about now?”

I shook my head.

Her finger probed a little farther. “Now?”

“No.” It came out in a hoarse whimper.

She pressed down harder. I inhaled sharply.

“If this doesn't hurt, Avelynn, there will be no blood. If he's slow and careful, you should feel only pleasure.” She held her hand very still. “Do you want me to stop?” Her lips tickled the edge of my ear.

“No.”

Her hand moved in a slow steady rhythm, her lips caressing, her teeth grazing my ear and the side of my neck. I held onto the quilts as sensation overtook me. Awareness fractured and my mind stilled, my body pulsing with pleasure. There was no end to my being, no beginning to my flesh. Everything was sensation, and I floated blissfully above the world.

From somewhere far beneath me I heard her say, “It just gets better and better.”

*   *   *

I spent the rest of the night alone. I'd never had a friend like Ealhswith. We lived in a world that crushed passion, but Ealhswith refused to let that dissuade her from living her life the way she wanted. I supposed that's why we were such good friends. We supported each other in a reality that couldn't live up to our wishes and desires. It was a dangerous path. I could be killed for what I believed in, and she could be killed for her own secrets.

She had given me a precious gift tonight: confidence. I was no longer afraid of what would happen when Alrik and I met, and I looked forward to our rendezvous with anticipation.

I laid the dark cloak over the back of a chair and waited anxiously for the third bell to toll. There was a large silver mirror in the room, and I busied myself fussing with my appearance. I kept one of the small braids that Ealhswith had tied, and let the remainder of my hair flow softly over my shoulders and down my back. I had picked a forest-green kirtle and a pale yellow woven belt for my clandestine outfit.

I sat down on the chair, got back up, straightened and brushed down the creases in my dress, and walked to the small window. I peered through a crack into the blackness beyond. Unable to will the bell to sound, I turned and started all over again. Finally, after wearing a tread through the rushes, the bell tolled midnight.

I slung my sword over my shoulder, ensured that Alrik's knife was fastened securely to my belt, and wrapped the cloak around me, making sure every lock of hair was concealed. Opening the cottage door, I slipped into the night. The guard's keep was empty, so I scuttled to the main road until I found the King's Oak.

It was a clear evening; the moon, almost full, was high and bright. I had no problem seeing where I was headed. Just inside the cover of trees, I found the horse waiting patiently for my arrival. It snorted and nudged my arm as I untied it. “Shhh,” I cooed, and smiled into its dark, trusting eyes. I was wary of staying on the main road long, lest someone see me, but with the dark cloak, no one would recognize me, and I had to stay on the road for only a short time. Once I crossed the ford over the River Avon, I could veer off and follow the Wansdyke—a monstrous earthen rampart that ran parallel to the river, snaking its way for miles to the coast. It would lead me straight to the eastern edge of the forest, and I had only to follow the tree line south until I found the trail that would lead me back to the very place I had met Alrik almost a full month ago. I wouldn't get to the coast until early afternoon.

The going was easy, the moon lighting the way, the rampart free and clear of obstacles. When I finally reached the forest, it was midmorning. I stopped by a narrow creek and let the horse drink and graze in the burgeoning meadow. The dull, dried brown of winter was slowly being replaced by the verdant, soft green of spring, and the horse munched happily on succulent shoots of heather. I followed the horse's lead and ate some of the food Ealhswith had packed for me. My body and mind had grown tired from the long sleepless night, so I splashed cold water from the creek onto my face. The sky was a bright, clear blue. White clouds, like strands of fleece, drifted lazily to the horizon. I was sorely tempted to just sprawl out under that azure sky and fall blissfully asleep, but the full moon was this evening, and I wanted to make sure I was at the coast in plenty of time. I reined in the horse and finished the last leg of my journey.