Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-nine
The Return
“THE KING?” HAGONA’S face was pale in the firelight as she wrapped up some bread and boiled eggs for Osana to take with her on her journey. “No wonder you didn’t tell me.”
Osana smiled. “Aye, some secrets are best kept.”
Her aunt straightened up, observing her niece keenly. “Does he know … that you’re carrying his child?”
Osana nodded.
“And he’ll take you back with him, wed you …
make you his queen?” Hagona’s expression turned incredulous.
Osana did not blame her. She had difficulty believing this was actually happening herself.
She had woken this morning a different person to who she was now.
Then she had been resigned to a future where she would give birth to the king’s bastard and raise it in a tiny annex behind her aunt’s hall; a future where folk would whisper about her, stare, and point.
A future where she would gradually grow as bitter and hard as her aunt.
“Aye … he says he will.”
Something moved in Hagona’s eyes then, a shadow that almost looked like grief. “That’s the test of a man,” she said softly, “… how he treats you when you have nothing to give him but your body, your heart.”
Silence fell between them. Shocked by her aunt’s words, which were so unlike her, Osana frowned. “What happened, Hagona … how did you end up living here alone? Why did you never wed?”
Her aunt heaved in a deep breath and turned back to wrapping the food. Aldfrith and his men waited outside; the women did not have much more time together. “I gave my heart to the wrong man … long ago,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “and I never recovered from it.”
Osana watched her aunt, wondering who the man had been. Osana’s mother had never mentioned Hagona’s past. For as long as Osana had known, Hagona had merely been the sharp-tongued aunt you did not want to visit.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, for she knew what it was to be hurt and to live without hope.
She did not ask anything further; she had the feeling Hagona would refuse anyway.
Her aunt was prickly at the best of times, and Osana could see by the tense line of her jaw that she was not prepared to reveal anything else about her past.
Hagona straightened up and passed Osana the neatly wrapped package of food.
“That’s why I know the value of a good man,” she said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
“For I have plenty of experience with a bad one. The king loves you and will go against tradition to wed you. Wyrd shines upon you, niece.”
Osana huffed, smiling once more as she took the food. She rarely heard folk speak of ‘wyrd’ these days. It was part of the old ways, the old gods—when folk believed that fortune ruled your fate. These days most people believed that it was God’s will that charted the course of your life.
Osana was not sure she believed in either. Some things you could not control—yet the past year had taught her that you always had choices in life. The difference was whether you had the courage to act upon them.
Osana leaned back against the hard wall of Aldfrith’s body. The strength and safety of his encircling arms, reaching forward to hold the reins, gave her a sense of peace she had never known before.
They rode across wide rolling hills, the sky a swathe of cloudless blue above. The sun was warm on their faces. Cerdic and another warrior rode upfront while Aldfrith and Osana followed just behind. The remainder of their party brought up the rear.
They had left Jedworth without delay, departing through the north gate so that they would not have to pass through the town and risk the ealdorman or his men spotting them.
They had lingered just long enough for Osana to thank her aunt and wish her goodbye. It seemed an irony to give Hagona thanks after her cool welcome, yet she had allowed Osana to live with her when many would not have.
Osana had even felt choked up as she rode away. She glanced back over her shoulder, her gaze settling upon the solitary figure standing in the midst of her garden. Hagona was not one to reveal much about herself, yet that brief conversation had told Osana much.
It made her own happiness now even more precious, for she knew how harsh life could be, how not everyone received a happy ending.
Warmth suffused her, and she closed her eyes a moment, absorbing the feel of Aldfrith’s body against hers. She breathed in the rich scent of earth and grass surrounding them.
She loved him, and yet she had not told him so. There was a part of her, the part that sought to preserve her from harm, that made her hold back. They were still far from Bebbanburg, and she was not yet Aldfrith’s wife.
I will tell him soon, she promised herself silently. When we are alone and I feel safe.
There was still part of her that wondered if this was real; she half-expected Aldfrith’s men to start laughing at how foolish this woman was. But they did not.
“You’re quiet,” Aldfrith spoke up. They were pressed so close he did not have to raise his voice to be heard. His breath feathered her ear, causing a shiver of delight to arrow through her. “Although I can hear your mind working from here.”
Osana gave a soft laugh. “Aye … not that my thoughts do me any credit. They keep telling me this is all a dream. That any moment I’m going to wake up in my fowl coop to the sound of Hagona berating me because I’m late milking the goat.”
Aldfrith huffed out a laugh. “No, you’re not dreaming,” he assured her. “This is real, and very soon you will be my wife.”
His words filled Osana with a warmth that had nothing to do with the friendly face of the sun.
A moment later Aldfrith passed the reins to his left hand, and with his right gently cupped Osana’s belly. “Will the babe be a boy or a girl?”
Osana was glad he had whispered the question. It was still early on, and she did not wish for anyone besides the two of them to know about this for the moment. Folk at Bebbanburg would make her life difficult as it was.
“Which would you prefer?” she asked.
“Either … although a girl with her mother's eyes and smile would please me very much.”
A smile curved Osana’s lips. “What if it’s a son with your character and eyes the color of the sky just after dusk?”
Aldfrith snorted. “I wouldn't wish that upon him.”
“Why not?” Osana replied. “You’ve the best character of anyone I’ve ever met. Your only mistake was not trusting your own instincts. Passion doesn’t have to rule you, Flann … but it can guide your heart.”
Aldfrith’s hand stroked her belly. “Thank you, I shall remember that.”
They reached Bebbanburg the next morning after setting off early, as soon as the first blush of dawn lightened the eastern sky.
The party had camped amid a stand of holm oaks, and since the weather was fine, they had not bothered to erect tents.
Instead, they had sat around a crackling fire, the warriors taking turns at watch.
Despite that she had lain upon the hard ground festooned with tree roots, Osana had slept surprisingly well. She had awoken rested to find Aldfrith seated beside her, ready with a cup of hot broth.
The smile he had given her made it the most beautiful awakening ever.
Now they rode the last stretch toward the fort, the walls of Bebbanburg rising high above. It was the same path that Osana and Raedwulf had ridden nearly three years earlier on their way to the king’s handfasting.
Much had changed since then—Osana had indeed changed much. For the first time since girlhood, she truly felt happy.
Yet as they clattered up the causeway toward the low gate, her stomach knotted and her throat closed. Happiness was a fragile thing; she was still afraid to re-enter the Great Tower of Bebbanburg. How would folk there treat her?
“Please tell me that Bishop Wilfrid isn’t in residence at the moment?” she asked, voicing the worst of her worries.
“The bishop and I haven’t gotten on well of late,” Aldfrith replied. “A few days ago I sent him away, back to Inhrypum. He won’t be making any visits to Bebbanburg for a while.”
Relief crashed over Osana at this news. She realized that most of her worries stemmed from that man. The memory of Wilfrid’s face the day he had walked in on them on Lindisfarena would haunt her forever: his hard, haughty expression, and the judgment in his dark eyes.
Osana let out the breath she had been holding. “That’s welcome news indeed.”
Aldfrith cantered his horse in through the high gate and drew it up in front of the stables. He swung down from his stallion's back and helped Osana dismount.
“Cerdic!” A woman's voice carried across the stable yard.
Osana glanced up to see Lora, her blonde curls fluttering, bound down the steps from the tower and hurry across the stable yard toward them. Joy flowered within Osana at the sight of her friend. She was a welcome sight indeed.
Ignoring his companions, even his king, Cerdic strode forward to meet her. Reaching Lora, he gathered her up in his arms and kissed her. She responded in kind, winding her arms around his neck, and standing on her tip-toes to reach him. They were both oblivious to the fact they had an audience.
Osana turned to Aldfrith, a smile curving her lips. “You didn’t tell me this news.”
He returned the smile. “It wasn’t mine to tell,” he replied. “I’m sure Lora will wish to tell you in her own words.”
Eventually, Lora and Cerdic broke apart, and the woman peeked around him to see who accompanied the warrior.
Lora let out a squeal. “Osana!”
Osana huffed, pretending to be affronted. “I wondered when you’d notice me.”
Her friend left Cerdic, who was now grinning, and rushed to Osana. The women hugged, and when Osana pulled back, her eyes were smarting. “I missed you,” she muttered. “You’ve got no idea what an acerbic tongue my aunt has.”
Lora smiled, her blue eyes gleaming. “And I have missed you … more than you can possibly imagine.”
Osana raised an eyebrow before flicking a look in Cerdic’s direction. “Much has changed I see?”
Lora responded with a sly look. “Aye … for us both.”
“Cerdic,” Aldfrith called out. “Go fetch Oswald. He will come to the Great Hall and wed us at noon.”
The warrior nodded, still smiling, and turned on his heel to do the king’s bidding.
Lora met Osana’s eye, her gaze wide. “You’re having your handfasting today?”
Osana nodded, her belly fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. This was really happening. “It seems so.”
“But you don’t have a dress … and what about the feast?”
“Don’t worry about that, Lora,” Aldfrith cut in. “Take some of the other women out with you into the fields below the fort and gather flowers for the hall. We’ll have whatever’s already planned for supper for our feast—I’m sure there are some cheeses and cured meats we can bring out of the stores.”
“Aye, sire.” Lora dropped into a neat curtsey, her face taking on a look of determination. “You will have guests for the handfasting too … forgive me, I forgot to tell you before.”
Osana watched the smile fade from Aldfrith’s face. Likewise, Osana’s buoyant mood dimmed. Neither of them wanted guests at the fort today.
“Who is it?” Aldfrith asked, after a pause.
Lora’s gaze flicked from the king’s face to Osana’s, her own smile dimming. “The ealdormen of Catraeth and Gefrin are here to see you, milord.”