Naked (18 page)

“
Leo
.” The nickname suited him.

“The years we spent together as outlaws brought us closer together than many brothers are. If it hadn’t happened, we would all have been separated, and sent as squires to different Saxon nobles. We may never have seen each other again.”

“So in Mercia you brothers stayed together.”

“And the bond between us grew. That’s why it was so hard when Northman was killed, especially for Leofric. When Northman died, he did not just lose his brother, he lost his best friend. They are quite a few years older than Edwin and I. So the loss of Northman was greatest for Leofric.” Godwin paused to wave for new tankards. “I’m chattering like a midwife.”

“Please.” I sipped more ale. “I want to know.”

He slanted me a squint that told me his good-natured pose hid something more. He seemed to sense my need to know more of his older brother. “When Northman died, I wasn’t sure Leo would recover from the blow. We had vowed, as brothers, to return Northman to his rightful place in Mercia. But he died before his lands were his own again.”

“And Leofric became earl.”

“His vow is to build Mercia up again, to a land worthy of his memory.”

“He is intent on that, I know.”
Oh, how well I knew.

“And he will do it. Leofric is the most stubborn of us. Even when he was a child, he would not give way, once he had set his mind to something. Once Leofric has decided upon his course, he refuses to give in.”

“I can believe that.”
Only too well.

“And you, Godiva?” Godwin slipped the innkeeper another coin as new tankards of ale arrived even though I hadn’t finished my first. “Are you as stubborn as a mule—or should I say, as a lion?”

“I can be. I’m sure it’s a fault.”

He gave me an admiring glance. “I see few faults in you.”

He was flirting with me, but there was only fun in Godwin.

“You’re not what I expected,” I said impulsively.

“What did you expect?” He made a mock grimace. “Did you think all the men of Mercia as stern as Leofric? We’re not, you know. It’s a shame really, for Leofric. He was made old before his time, with all the pressure of Mercia on his shoulders, when he stepped into our older brother Northman’s shoes. We even thought he was going to marry…”

Godwin gulped his ale. About all else, he’d chatted freely, but this had truly slipped out and now he tried to drown it in ale.

“Marry … whom?”

He took another loud gulp. “Oh, Northman was always meant to marry Lady Elfreda. She has extensive lands next to ours. Our fathers were good friends and Northman and Elfreda were intended from the cradle. When Northman died Elfreda was heartbroken. And of course Leo was devastated, too. They spent a lot of time with each other. They comforted each other. Elfreda is one of the few who can get a smile from Leo.”

“Oh.” Suddenly my ale tasted flat. “She’s very beautiful.”

“North and Leo always called her
Doe
. For her eyes, you see.”

Elfreda’s eyes were soft brown. She was as gentle as a doe, too, I sensed. I pushed my tankard away. Is that why Leofric had watched the doe with her fawn in the woods? Had he been thinking of Elfreda?

Godwin was still speaking. “We all thought that Elfreda’s marriage would be made with Leo instead of with Northman. But it didn’t turn out that way. We heard that Leo had married you.”

“I’m surprised Elfreda made the long journey from Mercia,” I said carefully.

“Oh, she’d do anything for Leo. She’s been living in Chester with Edwin and me. She says she can’t leave motherless boys to care for ourselves.”

“I see.”

Godwin gave me a keen glance. “You grieve your parents, too, Godiva.”

Beneath the jollity was a young man who had also known loss, hardship, and battle.

“I miss them,” I admitted. “It’s hard to be alone.”

My parents. Edmund. All gone.

“I miss how life used to be,” I said.

“What were your pleasures in the Middle Lands?”

“Riding. Dancing.” I laughed. “Sometimes both together.”

“I understand you’re an excellent horsewoman.”

“I have an excellent horse.”

“A horse that dances?”

“Ebur can do many tricks. She can prance and dance, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of. I can do a dance with a rope, or a horsewhip.”

He goggled. “You dance with a whip? I’ve seen dances with sticks and shields and even hobby-horses but never with a whip.”

“Not anymore. I haven’t done it for a long time. It was just for fun with my family.”

And with Edmund. We’d loved to dance.

Godwin slipped his arm through mine. “You have a new family now.”

“Thank you, Godwin.”

There was no way to explain I felt more alone than ever since Leofric had walked away from me in Arden woods.

*   *   *

In the plant yard Elfreda found me knelt beside an herb bed, digging. Weeding had seemed the perfect work to relieve my frustration at the situation with Leofric. Two more days had passed and two more nights, but he had not revisited my bed. Instead, he spent the nights in the hall, with Godwin and the other Mercian men.

“Your gardens are beautiful.”

Her soft leather shoes were tiny, I noticed as she stood beside me, her ankles fine and delicate. The hem of her shift was embroidered with gold thread.

“Thank you.” Unclenching my fingers from the trowel I ensured my accents remained gracious as I angled my neck toward her. “I’m sure the grounds of your own hall are very fine.”

“They are much more extensive than these but yours are much nicer,” she added hastily, as if fearing to offend. Yet perhaps she meant to be condescending. “But I couldn’t dig them myself, as you do.”

“You probably wouldn’t enjoy it.”

With a yank I pulled out a root of mugwort.

“Oh but I would! I’d love to do all the things you do. You’re so self-sufficient. Leo tells me you also ride as a warrior!”

In my dirt-covered apron I clambered up. I was taller than she. “I’d do anything to defend the Middle Lands.”

She shuddered. “I hate to fight. Perhaps I’m a coward.”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“I’m sure I am.” Hesitant she stepped closer, her glittering hem catching the light. “Can I help you with your gardening, Godiva? I’d love to learn.”

Part of me wanted to say I would appreciate company. But the need was greater in me to be alone.

“Your clothes aren’t suitable for outdoor work.”

“Oh.” She appeared downcast. “I understand.”

To my surprise I felt a pang of remorse as she walked away.

*   *   *

The next day, I was once again in the herb garden when a gentle call came from behind me.

“Godiva?”

With gritted teeth I drove my trowel hard into the earth. Craning my neck I arranged my face so that my irritation would not be revealed. Again, I had sought solace in the herb garden. Again, I was to be disturbed.

“Elfre…” My words fell away as my mouth dropped open. Standing in front of me Elfreda was wrapped from neck to knee in a voluminous homespun seed apron, similar to mine, but hers was huge, dwarfing her tiny size. In the pockets she had a fork and trowel.

“One of the servants loaned this apron to me.” She beamed. “I so wanted to help you and when you said yesterday my clothes would be ruined, I asked in the kitchen if they would help me. Look!”

From beneath the apron she poked out her foot, no longer shod in fine leather, but in wooden clogs, again many sizes too large. “They gave me these as well. I paid silver for them,” she added quickly. “I wouldn’t deprive anyone of their shoes simply because I want to garden with you. Please let me help, Godiva. Would you teach me? I don’t know what to do but I’ll do exactly as you say.”

How could I be unkind to her? It was akin to kicking a newborn pup.

“I’d love you to help me, Elfreda.”

Her beaming smile grew even wider as she knelt beside me.

“I’m weeding grasses away from these herbs,” I explained. “You can recognize sage, can’t you? By its paler, softer leaves? See, they’ve got almost a fine down on them.”

“Oh yes. I know sage.”

“That’s all you need to do.”

“That’s all! Why, I can do that.”

Copying my posture, she began to weed without another word.

In the brown earth, the ruby on my finger glowed red as a drop of heart’s blood. I ought not to wear it while gardening, my bare hands yanking the root tendrils, soil gritted under my nails. Dirt traced the engravings around the gem, tracing their golden patterns to dark shadow. Since Leofric had given it to me as part of my
morgengifu,
a symbol I hadn’t expected, I’d not been able to remove it. The ring still needed to go to the blacksmith in town to be made smaller. Leofric’s Mercian kinswoman had been of a larger size than I. But I hated to take it off to have it altered, even with the troubles between us.

Everywhere I went, I looked for him. Searched the hall for his height the moment I entered. Sought a glimpse of him on Wyrd’s back, hard riding across the plains. Hungered for his touch at table. Listened for his tread across the courtyard. Yearned for that unexpected grin.

Nothing.

I comforted myself that his business with Godwin kept him from me. But in the Forest of Arden a connection had broken between us, a twig snapped. Now, distance widened between us by the day.

Once more I focused my attention on the task in front of me. My serenity was being slowly restored with Elfreda at my side. It wasn’t the same as when I was alone out of doors, when every rustle in the trees or bird call shifted the silence that I reveled in, a deep silence that filled a need in me. Elfreda’s presence beside me with her gentle breathing and careful handiwork altered my sense of awareness. It was companionable to have someone near.

A spasm of grief threatened. I blinked, fast. I missed my mother. She had gardened with me in this way, in tranquil peace, but there was no other friend or family member who cared for it except Aine. Beolinda hadn’t been very interested in anything that would dirty her skin and Edmund hadn’t done women’s work.

Where was Edmund? Had he traveled to the eastern Angle Lands, found kin of his own? Was there anyone left who knew him? Was he traveling alone somewhere, out on the roads, in a strange place? Had he found work and shelter? Was he safe and well?

“Do you have brothers and sisters, Elfreda?”

“No.” She wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, leaving an endearing smear of dirt. “I had a brother once who died as an infant, but that is all. Like you.”

“Though I have no brothers or sisters I have good friends. As good as family.”

“Childhood bonds are not easily broken,” Elfreda said.

Edmund’s angry face flashed into my mind. The bonds between us had stretched like fraying rope but were they broken?

“Leofric, Edwin, and Godwin have been brothers to me,” Elfreda confided next. “And Northman, of course.”

Northman.
They all spoke his name the same way, the Mercians, a mixture of pride and sorrow that separated like oil and water. Only time would blend it.

“The brothers of Mercia are close. I’ve rarely heard of such fraternity.”

“That’s why it’s so dreadful there are such terrible rumors in Mercia and spreading across all of Engla-lond, too, I believe.”

“What rumors?” I had heard nothing of this. “What is said?”

“Dreadful things. The idea that Leofric would betray…” Elfreda shuddered. “It’s too terrible even to speak of.”

“Betray whom?”

“No.” Fiercely she moved her head from side to side. “I cannot say. Even to speak of it is wrong.”

Curiosity burned inside me but I didn’t press her. Tears were hovering at the edge of those long, dark lashes.

“You’re doing well with your weeding.” I changed the subject. “You’ve almost cleared that row of sage.”

“Have I done it correctly? I’ve been careful. I so want to be as capable as you are, Godiva.”

A rueful laugh escaped me. “I don’t always feel capable.”

“But you’ve fought battles.” Her lashes lifted in admiration. “You held back the Danes from Coventry.”

The battle for Coventry may have been won but I wasn’t winning the battle currently raging inside me. I wished I’d found the courage to speak more of my feelings to Leofric. Yet some reticence curtailed me.

Or lack of courage.

“I didn’t fight the battle of Coventry alone. I had strong men beside me.”

Edmund.

Leofric.

Oil and water, too.

“Godiva.” Elfreda’s expression became anxious. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I’d so like us to be friends.”

The wind rustled in the boughs of the oak tree.

“Friends? I’m not sure we can be friends.”

Elfreda’s cheeks colored as pink as marshmallow flowers. “Oh.”

Her head drooped as she went back to her weeding.

With a laugh I stopped her trowel.

“You’re as kin to Leofric, are you not? Since Godwin has sworn to be a brother to me, if they are also brothers to you…”

Her face lit up as though she were a day’s eye found the morning sun, as my meaning dawned on her. “Do you mean we could be like sisters?”

“Yes, Elfreda.” I squeezed her fingers. “We’re sisters, now.”

*   *   *

The evening meal had ended. Once more Godwin had made the hall rafters ring with laughter. I was grateful for it with Leofric glowering silently next to me at the high table.

Over the previous days I’d begun to know Elfreda better, and Godwin, too. We’d ridden out beyond the town, though not as far as Arden. Elfreda was the gentlest girl I’d ever met. Her adoration for Leofric and his brothers shone out whenever she spoke. Barely a sentence came from her lips that didn’t begin Leofric, or Northman, or Godwin. I had to admit I encouraged both Elfreda and Godwin in telling stories about Leofric, about his youth and boyhood. I lapped them up like a kitten at milk.

I wanted to know Leofric of Mercia, but not the earl. I wanted to know of his tumbles from his horse while learning to jump, of his climbing back on with a broken arm determined to jump again. I wanted to know of the way he would leap into rivers from high rocks and emerge laughing, sleek as an otter in a gurgle of water. All this, Elfreda and Godwin told me. I wanted to know that in spite of his time as an outlaw, Leofric wrote and spoke Latin as good as any monk. He’d learnt Danish, too, Godwin said, to outsmart his enemy.