The Betrothed Sister (18 page)

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Danish king lean forward, ale cup in hand, slowly raising it to his lips as he studied yet another lady who sat near his older daughters. In the time it took for a dancer to twirl, his eyes roved back to the dark-haired, rosy-cheeked girl. To her surprise, she saw that Edmund was studying the pretty girl too. He was asking her to dance with him and the king was glaring at Edmund!

‘Princess Gita, our country is unsettled.'

‘What? How?'

‘Our grand prince, Iziaslav of Kiev, Prince Vladimir's uncle, is exiled in Poland. Kiev is unsafe. Even Novgorod, with its impenetrable kremlin fortress, is not safe these days. His cousin, a sorcerer they say, was prisoner in Kiev. With the help of merchants who felt threatened by Steppe tribes the sorcerer prince usurped Prince Iziaslav in the spring. This evil magician threatens the peace of our lands from Pereiaslavl in the south to Polotsk, which is a fortress north of Novgorod. Our three princes, Iziaslav, Sviatoslav and Prince Vsevolod, are determined to protect Novgorod and Kiev.' The ambassador speared a tiny sweetmeat with his knife and daintily nibbled it.

‘What is the cousin called?' Thea asked, now curious and determined to commit to memory all these complicated names.

‘He is named Prince Vsevslav. Just call him the magician. Everyone else does.' The ambassador laid down his eating knife, dabbed his mouth with his napkin and began to tell Thea the history.

Servants passed by their table with pastry coffins filled with cream. Thea nodded her head and accepted one. Musicians struck up with flutes and small drums.

The ambassador continued his story. ‘Ask your harp-player, Padar, about him. He heard all about it in Novgorod last winter. He was there when tribes from the south attacked Kiev. Our enemies, certain untrustworthy nobles, whom we call boyars in our land, released the sorcerer and set him up as their prince instead.'

‘The nobles had such power?'

‘Yes, they do have powers on our councils. And remember this prince was of royal blood and many thought he should have been elected as Grand Prince of Kiev, not Iziaslav. His father had been the eldest of the princely brothers but he died before he could inherit Kiev. Iziaslav was the senior prince.'

Thea frowned. It was confusing. Beyond the table in the centre of the hall, Padar was playing the harp softly. They listened for a moment.

The ambassador remarked, ‘The skald plays well.' Then he resumed his tale. ‘The rule is that a prince's father must rule in Kiev as grand prince before the son can inherit. Otherwise the throne goes to the uncle whose father had ruled. The boyars of Kiev thought Prince Iziaslav a weak grand prince. However, many think that these boyars were subject to an enchantment.'

‘You mean the magician who was his nephew enchanted the nobles of Kiev.'

The ambassador tapped the table with his wooden spoon. ‘Indeed it was so but, Princess Gita, all improves we hope. We expect to reclaim Kiev very soon but you see it will be some time before things are settled and I hope you can travel to Russia soon.'

‘I hope so too,' Thea said.

The ambassador took a breath and continued, ‘The magician is set on dividing the three brothers of Kiev but now they have united to banish him from our territories. You see, Princess, we Russians dwell in troubled times. It is certain that your wedding will be delayed.'

‘Does King Sweyn know this?' Thea asked, thinking that Russia was every bit as dangerous as the land she had fled a year before.

‘Your uncle needs our trade routes through to Byzantium. King Sweyn knows that marriage into our princely families is of great benefit to him and to us. His warriors will help our warriors. Our families are already united.' The ambassador glanced along the table at Queen Elizaveta. She was sister to the three princely Russian brothers and an aunt to Thea's affianced prince.

Ambassador Igor said in a firm voice, ‘King Sweyn will want your marriage to happen soon. However, he must be patient.'

Thea felt disappointed and it showed because Igor said in a kindly manner, ‘Princess Gita, I am certain that you will travel to our lands no matter the threat.' He smiled with old wisdom in his eyes and Thea recognised that he had seen much unfold in his long lifetime and suspected that he sensed that she could not wait to escape from the Danish court. ‘You, of course, must be used to danger, Princess, since you were in England when the Duke of Normandy swept through your land. Assuming that our great city of Novgorod is safe you will travel there to await your wedding.' He leaned closer to Thea, so close she could smell a whiff of mint waft off his breath. He touched the sapphire ring on her middle finger with his own mottled one. ‘The young prince is fighting in Ukrainia but he will come to Novgorod when things are settled. He will take you south for your wedding ceremony in Kiev's magnificent Cathedral of St Sophia.'

‘But if there is strife in your lands I could be betrothed for years?' She tried not to let her impatience show.

‘You will enjoy your betrothal,' he said, avoiding a direct answer. ‘The prince's stepmother will take you into her terem and teach you our ways. You will learn to be a Russian princess.' He smiled in a kindly and very reassuring manner. ‘Kiev may be a troubled city, but when it is peaceful it is the most wondrous city of all our Rus cities. It is a Jerusalem, a great city of Christian churches, craftsmen, merchants, people of many nations, including exiles from your esteemed father's court.' The diplomat paused and crossed himself before continuing, ‘You, lady Princess, will be safely hidden from any outside turmoil in the Lady Anya's terem in Novgorod until you travel to Kiev for your wedding.'

‘Lady Anya's
terem
?' Thea was both curious and anxious. A terem sounded like a cooking pot. She was to be hidden away!

‘Our women remain more sheltered from the world than women here in Denmark. But you will find her palace quarters much to your liking and the atmosphere pleasant. Princess Anya is only twenty-two summers old. She will teach you the ways of our land – the rules we expect our wives to understand.'

Thea had wanted her wedding to follow her betrothal. She wanted to be a princess of the Rus and not to be ruled by a stepmother who was only six years her senior. She wanted her prince. She pushed a pastry coffin around her silver plate until a creamy filling oozed out. She lifted her veil aside and spooned a little of the custard neatly into her mouth.
She would learn to be a good wife and mother, yes, but she wanted to help her prince rule his lands. Together they would be strong. No enemy would steal what was theirs and do as the Normans had done when they had crossed the Narrow Sea, entered her homeland, massacred her father's people and razed their homes to the earth.

She glanced up from her pastry. Padar had finished playing. The musicians with bagpipes, drums and cymbals were back. So were the poor. They had crept into the hall doorway from the courtyard beyond begging food, leftovers, creatures seeking betrothal alms and who were almost as noisy as the guests with their whinges, cries, begging and blessings until they were shooed from the hall by two of Sweyn's servants who carried enormous baskets of leftover loaves and scraps high on their shoulders. She felt sad for those unfortunates who needed alms.

Once the musicians had resumed playing, two men began leaping about the lower tables in a wild dance. She turned her attention from them. To her side, Ambassador Igor was studying the rosy-cheeked woman who was seated again between two of King Sweyn's female cousins. Edmund was conversing with his friends.

What was so special about that woman?
She looked at the ambassador with a question she did not form, but it was one he answered anyway.

‘The woman sitting amongst the Danish women is from our land. She travelled here with her father, a well-respected merchant of Kiev. I have asked for her to serve you and teach you our language.'

‘She is beautiful. But I think it best we keep her very busy and away from the king.'

‘I fear it is so,' the ambassador whispered conspiratorially. ‘Her father would kill the king should he lay a finger on her.'

‘That would signal her father's death for sure.'

Ambassador Igor leaned close to Thea. She strained to hear him above the dancing warriors, the women on the lower benches, who were now clapping and banging drinking cups in encouragement, and the loud conversations that competed with the racket below.

Igor whispered close to her ear, ‘Not if her father snatches her from under the king's nose and sails away, He knows all sorts of tricks to elude King Sweyn's greatest fleet. Dimitri is one of our most valuable spies as well as a wealthy trader. He works for Prince Vsevolod himself.'

‘What is her name?'

‘They call her Katya.'

‘Katya,' Thea murmured to herself. ‘I hope you will become my friend.'

13

Autumn 1069

Thea liked her new position at the Danish court as the official betrothed of Prince Vladimir of the Rus. Katya was soon established in Thea's new household as her personal teacher.

Thea enjoyed studying the strange symbols that made up the Russian alphabet and she strove to read simple words as she spoke them. Katya was a good teacher and Thea was quick to learn. By November Thea had begun to knit together simple sentences in Russian.

One afternoon Thea said, ‘Enough for today, tell us of your life in Kiev, Katya. I am curious.'

Katya sighed. She glanced at the seamstresses who were sewing new garments for Thea. Her sorrowful dark eyes darkened into two pools the colour of bog-land peat. ‘Sometimes I long for Russia. Others, I want to be as far away from that terrible country as I possibly can be. I like sewing. Perhaps I should not return to Russia when you travel, my lady, but instead stay here in Denmark and earn my living as a seamstress.'

‘Oh, Katya, was it so terrible? Why does thinking about Russia bring tears to your eyes?'

‘It was.' Katya brushed her tears away with her fingers and told Thea how in the springtime a fierce Steppe tribe called the Cumans attacked Kiev from the Steppes. ‘It was a terrible time. It is why my betrothed lost his life.'

Thea's eyes widened as Katya told her story.

‘There was an uprising in Kiev because the Grand Prince did not allow his noblemen to have an army to protect their trading vessels from the Cuman tribesmen's attacks. The boyars banished Prince Iziaslav and chose his nephew to rule the kingdom.'

‘Ambassador Igor told me about it. What happened to your betrothed?' Thea urged Katya.

‘The sorcerer prince, you know about him, enticed many of Kiev's nobles to follow him. He cast spells and magicked the Cuman invaders away from the walls of the city. In truth, he is no sorcerer, just a thug who used bribes to win his way out of prison and into the boyars' hearts. The nobles armed themselves and even Iziaslav's own army turned against him. The magician prince negotiated with the tribesmen and gave them promises of trade.'

‘Which, perhaps, Iziaslav should have done.' That seemed one solution to Thea.

‘He would not spend the money.'

‘Your betrothed, Katya, how was he involved?'

‘My lady, my betrothed was a young nobleman in Prince Iziaslav's employ. When Prince Vsevslav, the wicked sorcerer, was released from prison and his followers attacked Prince Iziaslav,' Katya paused and swallowed, ‘a swordsman struck my love down in the street as he helped Prince Iziaslav flee the city. I miss him every day.'

‘Oh, Katya, it is so sad. If I meet that prince I shall thrust my eating knife into his evil heart.' Her hand involuntarily strayed to the silver eating knife that hung with her scissors and purse from her belt. ‘I hope my Vladimir is safe from his cunning.'

‘Did your betrothed die in the street?'

‘They carried him to my father's house. As is our tradition, when the match-makers led us together for our betrothal, I was veiled so my fiancé never saw my face. He
did
see my face on the day he died, my lady. He looked upon me as he breathed his last breath. He was alive when they brought him into our house, but his life was draining from him, so when he asked for me I was brought to him. He said, “I want to see your face before I die and I shall keep it with me when I travel into God's Kingdom”. My lady, I lifted aside the head covering that cloaked my face, my head and my neck. I let him look upon my face. I did not weep. Instead I smiled and so my beloved died with my smile in his heart. I can never forgive those who murdered him.'

Thea thought of the vengeance that lay in her own heart. She thought of Lady Ragnar's calming words to her as she had looked into the still water in her beautiful bowl. She said to Katya, ‘Perhaps God will extract his own revenge on this man. I hope it is so. Such wickedness will not go unpunished.'

The circle of life did not pause for a wicked sorcerer but somehow God's mysterious justice might have a way of evening things up.

Katya looked at her fiercely. ‘If I can, I shall kill him.'

‘No, Katya, set aside revenge and allow fate and God to find a way. One day another man will want to marry you and perhaps then you will let sorrowful memories of your first betrothed rest.' Thea held Katya's hand. ‘I, too, have lost many whom I have loved.'

Gudrun shook her head. ‘If the one I love was murdered in the street I would have revenge in my heart.'

‘And who is your love, Gudrun?' Katya asked, a small smile beginning to brighten her sad face.

‘I cannot say because he has not spoken yet. Perhaps he never will.'

Thea felt her mouth open and then closed it firmly. If she could speak to Padar for Gudrun she would. First, she must be sure that it was what Padar really wanted. And she must think of a way to provide them with a home. The life of an exile was precarious. The life of two exiles with no home and land of their own might be impossible.