Enchantress Mine (7 page)

“Samhein?”
He looked puzzled.

“All Hallows’ Eve, October 31st,” supplied Bishop Wulfstan, who now also spoke Norman French.

“I was born at the precise moment of sunset as the fires were lit,” said Mairin proudly. “Dagda says it means I am blessed by the old ones. He says my head was like a flame pushing out into the world from between my mother’s legs.”

“God has indeed blessed you, my child,” said the bishop, an amused look upon his face. He suspected his friend Aldwine had taken on more than he knew with this bright and beautiful fairy child. Reaching out the bishop patted Mairin’s head and continued. “God gave you the good Dagda to look after you, and brought my old friend Aldwine Athelsbeorn to your rescue. You will be glad to know that he does not live here in London but in the countryside.”

“My home is called Aelfleah,” said Aldwine Athelsbeorn. “It lies in a hidden valley between the Wye and the Severn rivers on the edge of
The Forest.
”

“Aelfleah,” said Mairin, feeling the strange word with her tongue. “Aelfleah. What does it mean, my lord?”

“Fairy’s Meadow,” came the reply.

“Is Aelfleah a Saxon word, my lord?”

“Yes, my child, it is. I think it fortunate that the first word of our language that you have learned is the name of the place which is to be your new home.”

Mairin nodded at him, a serious look upon her child’s face. Then she said, “Please, my lord, do you think that your lady wife will really like me? My stepmother did not like me for she was jealous of me. What of your other children? Will they like me?”

“My Eada cannot fail but like you, my child, and as for the rest of my family, there is only our son, Brand. Saxon families are usually large, but neither my wife nor I came from big families; and now there are none of them left but we three. No,” he amended, “we four, for you, my little Mairin, shall take the place of the daughter we lost.” Then reaching out Aldwine Athelsbeorn took the child upon his lap, and kissed her gently upon the forehead.

For the first time in many months Mairin felt safe. She had adored her handsome father, and for most of her life he had loved and spoiled her, but after his marriage to the lady Blanche everything had changed. Seeing his bride’s ill-concealed dislike of his little daughter the Sieur de Landerneau had attempted to placate his new wife by lessening his attentions to the child of his first marriage, and increasing his attentions to Blanche. He had believed that if he could reassure Blanche her jealousy toward Mairin would cease. He had not been aware of the evil in his new wife’s character.

The little girl, of course, had not understood, and had been frightened by this withdrawal of affection. Now suddenly here was someone who offered her the love she had lost. Looking up into the Saxon’s face, Mairin touched his cheek with a delicate touch gently stroking the thegn’s rough beard with her little fingers. Then she smiled at him, and seeing her face transformed Aldwine Athelsbeorn drew his breath in sharply with wonder.

Bishop Wulfstan chuckled. “I think you may have taken on more than even you anticipate, my friend. A face like that could one day gain you an earl for a son-in-law. Do not be in any hurry to match her lest you lose your advantage.”

The servants brought them food, and the child ate hungrily for she had not eaten since the night before when they had been fed a cold gruel and some hard brown bread. This food was hot. A succulent capon that was so tender it fell from its bones. Her even white teeth tore at the meat, yanking it off the leg. She next ate freshly caught prawns that had been boiled with herbs, the taste of the sea contrasting strongly with the slices from a joint of rare beef that was also served. Warm, newly baked bread, a sharp, hard cheese, and sweet apples, the first of the season, completed the meal. Content, she had fallen asleep in the thegn’s lap, and Aldwine Athelsbeorn had smiled with pleasure.

Early the next morning they departed London for Aelfleah, which was a good four days’ ride from London. Bishop Wulfstan traveled with them for he was returning to his seat at Worcester which although it lay another day’s journey from Aelfleah was in the same direction. They traveled west and had the good fortune to encounter fine weather the entire way. The roads over which they traveled had been built, Aldwine explained to Mairin, hundreds of years before by a people called the Romans.

Mairin nodded at his words. She was but half-listening. She was far more concerned with Aelfleah which was to be her new home if the lady Eada liked her. She put her mind to concentrating on that for she had learned early that she could will something to happen if she really wanted it. She also had concerns more important to her than some long-dead roadbuilders called Romans.

“Is this forest you spoke of nearby, my lord?” she questioned him.

“Yes, my child,” he answered her, “but you must be careful for it is a deep and dense wood. I would not have you lost.”

“I am not afraid of a forest,” she answered him. “My home is, was,” she corrected herself, “in the Argoat, an impenetrable and thick place of enchantment that has been there since the dawn of time. The forest is my friend. Old Catell, the wisewoman of our region, was teaching me of herbs and healing. She says I have the gift, and I do! I can see things that other people cannot,” she boasted with her child’s pride.

“Can you see how much my Eada and I will love you?” he asked her.

Mairin, who had been riding ahead of Aldwine Athelsbeorn upon his horse, leaned back against the Saxon, and tilted her head up to look into his blue eyes with her own deep violet ones. Mairin instinctively knew that this man would indeed love her with the unquestioning love of a father. In that instant she knew that she had found a place of refuge. “Would you really be my father?” she asked him softly, not quite able to believe her good luck.

He nodded gravely. “Yes, Mairin, I would.”

“I will not forget my real father,” she warned him.

“I would not expect you to, my child.”

“I think you will be a good father to me,” she said, and the matter was settled between them then and there.

Gently he kissed the top of her small head. As he raised his own head up his eyes met those of Dagda, who smiled, his glance one of approval. Aldwine Athelsbeorn smiled back, realizing that for the first time in many months he was truly happy. There was not a day that would go by in his life that he would not regret Edyth’s loss. God was good, however, for he had given him Mairin. She needed him every bit as much as he needed her and he said a silent prayer that his wife would concur with him for he did not think now that he could part with this fairy child who had so suddenly and unexpectedly burst into his life.

At the thought of Eada his heart quickened its pace for he loved her as he was certain no man could love a woman. He was the last of his own family having lost both his brothers—the elder of a wasting sickness, the younger to the sea. His only sister had died in a childbirth that had also taken his father’s only grandchild. It had therefore been his duty to find a wife as quickly as possible, his father had argued. A dutiful son, he had immediately set out to look over the marriageable daughters of the neighboring thegns who had not already been promised elsewhere.

He fell in love the first time he saw Eada in her father’s hall, and he could not believe his good fortune that she was not promised to someone else, someone of importance. Particularly in light of the fact that her mother was a cousin of Earl Leofric’s wife, Godiva. Eada’s father, Daelwine, believed that his daughters should have some say in their choice of a husband. Although many had come to woo Eada, none had pleased her.

But if he had been instantly taken with her, Eada was equally enamored of him. Pleased by what they considered their daughter’s sensible choice, Daelwine and his wife, Fearn, agreed to the match. It was celebrated with much rejoicing on the part of both families.

Before Aldwine’s father died he had witnessed the birth of his first living grandchild, a boy called Brand, who was now ten years of age. Eada, who had so easily conceived Brand, bore but one more child four years later. Their daughter, Edyth. Still it had been a happy marriage, and thinking of his wife with her dark red hair, and her milk-white skin, Aldwine’s loins quickened. It would be good to get home. The wind was coming from the north as they rode, its chill reminding him of the coming winter and the delightful games he and his wife played beneath the furs within their bed.

Just after the noon hour of the fourth day of their journey from London they reached Aelfleah. Warned of her husband’s impending arrival by an advance rider, the lady Eada awaited her lord before the manor house. Her soft gray eyes widened with curiosity as she saw the small figure upon the saddle before her husband. Then those gentle eyes filled with quick tears for Aldwine used to carry Edyth before him in that same manner. She swallowed back her sadness. It was not seemly to greet her returning lord with the sound of weeping. She turned her glance to the huge stranger who also rode with her husband, and was that not Bishop Wulfstan? Devil take the outrider that he had neglected to warn her of that!

Her mind tumbled over the simple preparations she had made for dinner. They would have to broil a brace of rabbits in addition to what she had already ordered prepared, as well as a haunch of venison. There was yet time to send a boy to the millstream to catch a trout or two. The bishop was as good a trencherman as her husband, and the giant who rode with them did not look like he stinted himself at the table either! Blessed St. Cuthbert! Would there be enough bread? Had Byrd, the baker, baked today?

Aldwine Athelsbeorn slid easily from his horse’s back, and enfolded his wife into his arms. Feeling her plump warmth made him realize all over again how much he had missed her, and so he kissed her greedily. For a moment Eada snuggled happily in his arms, and then with a laugh she struggled free of his embrace. Her pretty face was flushed with obvious pleasure. It was the first time Mairin could even remember having seen a married couple show such affection. Her father and the lady Blanche had always appeared quite formal with each other.

“Fie, my lord!” Eada scolded him lovingly. “What will his grace think of such behavior?”

“His grace,” replied Bishop Wulfstan, dismounting his horse, “wishes that all married couples loved each other as truly as you two do. It does my heart good to see such a warmth in a cold world.”

Now Eada turned her glance to Mairin. “And what this, my lord? Who is this pretty child you bring to Aelfleah?”

“I bought her from a particularly unpleasant slave merchant who had high hopes of taking her to Byzantium and selling her for less-than-wholesome purposes,” replied Aldwine Athelsbeorn. “He was reluctant to part with her, but with the good bishop’s intercession the slaver saw the error of his ways, and I was able to rescue the child.”

“Ah, poor little one,” said Eada sympathetically. She smiled up at Mairin. Then her gaze moved to Dagda. “And this one, my lord? Was he also being mistreated by your slave merchant? He does not look to me like a man to be abused.”

Aldwine laughed. “This is Dagda mac Scolaighe, who is the child’s guardian.” He quickly explained to his wife the story Dagda had told him.

When he finished Eada nodded with sympathetic understanding. “You are welcome to Aelfleah, my child,” she said.

“She does not understand English, but she will soon learn from you,” Aldwine told his wife. “She speaks only Breton or Norman French.” He smiled up at Mairin. “My wife bids you welcome to Aelfleah, Mairin.”

“Is she willing to be my new mama, my lord father?”

He looked a bit nonplussed as to what to say to her. Children were always so impatient, and as brave a man as he was, he wasn’t quite certain how to broach the subject with his wife. It had somehow seemed simpler in London.

Then Eada asked, “What is it the child says about her mama, my lord? That word I could understand. If she is to stay for a while I shall indeed have to teach her English.”

With a quick prayer, and the decision that a direct approach was the best way, he said, “Mairin, for that is her name, my love, wishes to know if you will be her new mama.”

Eada staggered slightly and her pale face grew even paler. For a brief moment her pain-filled eyes closed. When they reopened she said in a shaking voice, “Edyth cannot be replaced, my lord. Surely you are not so callous as to believe so.”

“No,” he answered her, “Edyth cannot be replaced, nor will she return from her grave to us, my love. Our daughter is dead. I am not so cruel or unfeeling that I would attempt to replace one child with another as one might replace one puppy with another. Edyth does not need us anymore, Eada, but this child does. When I first saw her in the marketplace, her proud little face so frightened and forlorn, I knew then what I must do. In your heart, my loving one, you know too. God has given us another child, not to take Edyth’s place, but rather to make her own place in our lives. As you have suffered, so too has this little one suffered. Mairin has asked you a question, my Eada. What shall I tell her?”

Eada looked again at Mairin, who stared back, her little face an impersonal mask. Then for a tiny second Eada saw the naked vulnerability in the child’s violet-colored eyes. In that instant her heart went out to the little girl. She reached out with eager, loving arms to lift Mairin from the horse’s back, saying as she did, “Of course I will be her mother, my lord husband. It is obvious that you have become her father.” She gave the child a hug, kissing her upon both cheeks as she set her upon the ground. “It is easy to see she has already wrapped you around her tiny finger even as Edyth did.” Then taking Mairin’s hand in her own Eada led her new daughter into the hall at Aelfleah
.

“Praise be to our good Lord Jesus and his Blessed Mother,” said Bishop Wulfstan softly.

“Your wife is a good woman,” Dagda said, the relief in his voice obvious. “My little lady will be safe with her, and for that, Aldwine Athelsbeorn, I am in your debt. You have but to tell me what you desire of me for from this moment on I am your liegeman, and you are my lord.”