Epilogue
From Your Heart
Two months later …
THE WIND WHIPPED Osana’s cloak about her. She tilted her face up, her gaze narrowing as it fixed upon the dark clouds rolling in from the sea. A moment later a raindrop splashed onto her upturned face.
Argus trotted next to her, tail wagging and tongue lolling.
The hound had refused to remain behind when she had left the fort.
Osana drew her cloak close and hurried her step, her attention shifting to the tall figure clad in a long wine-red tunic who stood at the water’s edge farther along the shore.
Her husband seemed to be oblivious to the coming rain.
He stood watching out to sea, his expression distant.
“Flann!” she called out. “The weather’s turning.”
Next to her the wolfhound let out a loud bark and rushed forward to greet his master.
Aldfrith, King of Northumbria, turned, blinking as he came out of his reverie. “Osana.” A smile spread across his face. He bent down to ruffle Argus’s ears. “You came looking for me?”
Osana gave a frustrated huff. “Aye … I was beginning to think the tide had swallowed my husband up.”
My husband … how she loved to think of him so. Even two moons since their handfasting, she still felt a thrill of happiness to think that they were wed.
“I like to walk on the shore,” he replied, linking his arm through hers and pulling her close. “It quietens my mind.”
Fat drops of rain hit Osana’s face. She glanced back up at the sky. “We’re going to get soaked.”
“It’s just a summer rain squall,” Aldfrith replied. “When we get back to our quarters, I shall just use it as an excuse to peel your wet clothes off you.”
Osana laughed, although heat pooled in the base of her belly at the suggestion. She looked forward to the time they spent alone together in that warm, comfortable alcove. As king, Aldfrith had a lot of demands put on his time during the day. Yet at night, he was all hers.
She favored him with a sidelong glance. “So … what were you doing, gazing out into the waves so intently?” she asked. “You seemed in another world.”
“I was thinking of the poem I’ve been working on,” he replied with an embarrassed smile.
“You’re writing again?” The news pleased Osana. It had been a while since he had spent time in the annex adjoining the tower. She was glad he had taken up his study once more; it was an important part of who he was, a part of him she loved.
“Aye, although only Argus has heard the poem so far.”
The hound in question bounded on ahead, barking as he spied a seagull swooping low.
“And did he appreciate it?”
Aldfrith shrugged. “He made no comment either way.”
Osana smiled. “Would you like to recite it to me?”
He tilted his head. “Are you sure you want to hear it? Last time I read something to you … you didn’t enjoy it much.”
“Nonsense. I loved it … I just questioned you about it that’s all. I was fascinated how a man could hold such unwavering beliefs in such a changing world.”
Aldfrith’s mouth curved. “I reread those lines the other day … what a pompous braying ass I must have appeared.”
Osana laughed, the sound snatched away by the wind. The rain was falling hard now, pattering onto the sand and wetting their cloaks. “I’ve never seen you that way … now what of this poem. Please, Flann. I’d like to hear it.”
She liked calling him Flann when they were alone and saw from the tenderness in his eyes that he felt the same way.
“Very well,” he said with a sigh, “although, if you mock me, woman, I’ll not read another one ever again.”
“I would never mock you,” she said, all mirth fading. “And I am listening.”
They stopped then, oblivious to the rain that slanted across the beach, turning the world grey. The solid bulk of Bebbanburg fort loomed above them, yet they only had eyes for each other.
Aldfrith held her gaze and began to speak.
“You lie upon my heart like a song
Wise like the earth
Like the ageless moon
You are branded on my soul
We are bound, you and I
There is no choice in it
You shadow my thoughts
Every waking breath
You are my dawn
My noon
My twilight.”
Silence followed Aldfrith’s words. The pair clung together, the rain sluicing across them, plastering their hair to their scalps. The pause drew out, and Aldfrith gave a pained expression. “I knew it … you think it’s awful, don’t you? Sentimental drivel.”
Osana hitched in a breath, blinking back tears. “I think no such thing. It’s beautiful. It comes from your heart, and I love it.”
Relief suffused his face. “Truly?”
“Aye, truly.” She held his gaze. “I love you, Aldfrith. I will cherish those lines for the rest of my days.”
He leaned in, kissing her deeply. Osana clung to him, the driving rain forgotten as his mouth moved over hers. She melted against him and placed her right hand over his heart. The thunder of it against her palm was all the proof she needed that he had meant every word of that poem.
The love they shared had an intensity that sometimes felt as if she were drowning in it, and yet she would gladly do so. There could be no sweeter end.
Finally drawing back, his face slick with rain, Aldfrith favored her with a smile that made Osana’s knees tremble beneath her. Then he reached down and placed a hand over her belly; it had just started to swell now. The midwife had told her the babe would be due at Yuletide.
Aldfrith linked his arm through hers once more, and they turned west, walking toward the dunes and the causeway that would take them back to Bebbanburg’s low gate. “Come, wife,” he said, his smile turning wicked. “Let’s get out of the rain. I promised to divest you of your clothing, did I not?”