she said wistfully, playing with Esmund’s hair. “I’ve never had anything so fine.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Cædda took off the crucifix and placed it around Annis’ neck, smiling down at his wife.
“Look what your father gave me.” She showed it to Esmund, beaming at her gift. “Hilde, have Deorca help Saoirse with her chores tomorrow. If she gives you any trouble, tell me at once.” She put Esmund down and stood up next to the nurse. “Your husband might get his apprentice,” she whispered with a smirk.
Hilde smiled back and steered both the children out of the Great Hall, leaving husband and wife together, but not alone. They were never alone in the Great Hall.
“I’m returning to my men now. Are you happy with your gift?”
Annis leaned into her husband and stroked his face. “I’ll thank you properly when you get back.”
He gave her a smile, one tinged with regret, and then he walked out the door. That was the smile he gave her so often, as if to apologize in advance that he would be thinking of Saoirse during their lovemaking. Annis was now left with the sounds of drinking and carousing men, the women who were milling about serving and cleaning, and of course, the ever-present dogs, some of which wandered into her chamber occasionally. With rain spraying in through the doorway, Annis sat back down at her spindle. Cædda wouldn’t come to bed for hours, and the wool wouldn’t very well spin itself.
***
The sun had not shown itself all day, so when night fell upon the small room Hilde had directed her to, an entirely new breed of anxiety flooded Isabella. The room itself was silent, but Isabella could very clearly hear the racket of the carousing men in the adjoining Great Hall. There was no door leading directly from the room into the Hall, but it would take very little effort for some drunken Saxon to stumble his way to where she slept.
After Hilde had departed, Isabella had stayed standing in the center of the filthy room. Her first instinct had been to collapse into sleep, but a quick survey of the room had dissuaded her immediately. The floor was dirt, and her “bed” was nothing more than straw lumped on the floor with a mangy fur over it. The place stank of wet dog and more than a hint of human waste. The bucket in the corner, complete with flies, explained that. The sharp pain of the blisters on her feet had intensified, and she was newly aware of a dull ache in her ankles. She was exhausted, but she could not bring herself to lie down on the filthy bed, or even to sit on the earthen floor. I’ll probably catch hepatitis.
The door banged open, causing Isabella to jump.
“Have you been standing there since last I left you?” Hilde asked crossly. The old woman stood in the door with a girl who couldn’t be more than 15, just a child really. Blonde and freckled, she looked like a waifish angel. And yet she was carrying a sleeping baby, maybe a year old, that was undoubtedly hers.
“This is Saoirse. She’ll bed with you henceforth, and she has agreed to help you hem those.” The old woman pointed to a small pile of dresses in the corner, which apparently was now to comprise Isabella’s entire wardrobe. Hilde then turned her hurried glance full onto Saoirse, and spoke to her quietly in their native language before walking gingerly out of the room without any further instruction. Despite the nurse’s overtly stern manner, Isabella felt it a shame such an old woman still had to work.
Now alone with her new roommate, Isabella hazarded a smile at the young girl, who promptly and warmly returned it. Chattering in her soft little voice, she placed her baby in a crude basinet, then started sorting through the pile of dresses. The girl made two piles, one for the faded grey cotton shifts and the other for the heavy wool dresses. At least they might be warmer than her current attire.
Confident the pretty blonde girl had the sewing well under control, Isabella hobbled
Without a moment’s hesitation, Cædda took off the crucifix and placed it around Annis’ neck, smiling down at his wife.
“Look what your father gave me.” She showed it to Esmund, beaming at her gift. “Hilde, have Deorca help Saoirse with her chores tomorrow. If she gives you any trouble, tell me at once.” She put Esmund down and stood up next to the nurse. “Your husband might get his apprentice,” she whispered with a smirk.
Hilde smiled back and steered both the children out of the Great Hall, leaving husband and wife together, but not alone. They were never alone in the Great Hall.
“I’m returning to my men now. Are you happy with your gift?”
Annis leaned into her husband and stroked his face. “I’ll thank you properly when you get back.”
He gave her a smile, one tinged with regret, and then he walked out the door. That was the smile he gave her so often, as if to apologize in advance that he would be thinking of Saoirse during their lovemaking. Annis was now left with the sounds of drinking and carousing men, the women who were milling about serving and cleaning, and of course, the ever-present dogs, some of which wandered into her chamber occasionally. With rain spraying in through the doorway, Annis sat back down at her spindle. Cædda wouldn’t come to bed for hours, and the wool wouldn’t very well spin itself.
***
The sun had not shown itself all day, so when night fell upon the small room Hilde had directed her to, an entirely new breed of anxiety flooded Isabella. The room itself was silent, but Isabella could very clearly hear the racket of the carousing men in the adjoining Great Hall. There was no door leading directly from the room into the Hall, but it would take very little effort for some drunken Saxon to stumble his way to where she slept.
After Hilde had departed, Isabella had stayed standing in the center of the filthy room. Her first instinct had been to collapse into sleep, but a quick survey of the room had dissuaded her immediately. The floor was dirt, and her “bed” was nothing more than straw lumped on the floor with a mangy fur over it. The place stank of wet dog and more than a hint of human waste. The bucket in the corner, complete with flies, explained that. The sharp pain of the blisters on her feet had intensified, and she was newly aware of a dull ache in her ankles. She was exhausted, but she could not bring herself to lie down on the filthy bed, or even to sit on the earthen floor. I’ll probably catch hepatitis.
The door banged open, causing Isabella to jump.
“Have you been standing there since last I left you?” Hilde asked crossly. The old woman stood in the door with a girl who couldn’t be more than 15, just a child really. Blonde and freckled, she looked like a waifish angel. And yet she was carrying a sleeping baby, maybe a year old, that was undoubtedly hers.
“This is Saoirse. She’ll bed with you henceforth, and she has agreed to help you hem those.” The old woman pointed to a small pile of dresses in the corner, which apparently was now to comprise Isabella’s entire wardrobe. Hilde then turned her hurried glance full onto Saoirse, and spoke to her quietly in their native language before walking gingerly out of the room without any further instruction. Despite the nurse’s overtly stern manner, Isabella felt it a shame such an old woman still had to work.
Now alone with her new roommate, Isabella hazarded a smile at the young girl, who promptly and warmly returned it. Chattering in her soft little voice, she placed her baby in a crude basinet, then started sorting through the pile of dresses. The girl made two piles, one for the faded grey cotton shifts and the other for the heavy wool dresses. At least they might be warmer than her current attire.
Confident the pretty blonde girl had the sewing well under control, Isabella hobbled
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