The Deepening Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 3) (20 page)

 
Chapter Twenty-One

The Undoing

The moment they were hidden behind the fur hanging, that
shielded their bower from the rest of the hall, Annan and Saewara lunged at
each other.

Saewara groaned as she felt the hardness of his arousal
pressed against her. Boldly, she reached down and stroked the length of it
through his breeches. Annan gasped, growling low in his throat. Then, he gently
took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from his body. His mouth came
down over hers, and Saewara felt the world spin. He kissed her deeply,
thoroughly – their fused mouths were the only parts of their bodies touching. Saewara
kissed him back with abandon, struggling to free her wrists so that she could
caress him again.

The same sensation that had carried her away on the riverbank
entangled itself around her once more. She lost any sense of inhibition. A
hunger raged within her; desperate to be fed.

Enjoying her frustration, Annan gave a low laugh and pushed
her backwards toward the furs, before throwing her down on them. Saewara sat on
the bed, gasping to catch her breath; her gaze never leaving his.

As she watched, he stepped back and began to undo his
breeches. Seeing the direction of her gaze, his mouth curved into a wicked
smile. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs and her mouth went dry. If he
stood there staring at her like that for much longer she would not be
responsible for her actions.

“Take your clothes off, Saewara.”

It was not a request, but an order.

Saewara’s hands trembled when she unbuckled the belt around
her waist. Then, in one movement, she pulled the woolen dress and under-tunic
over her head. Naked, she sat on top of the furs watching him strip his clothes
off. His eyes never left her all the while; his hot gaze raking her body from
head to toe.

She did the same, her gaze hungrily taking in every inch of
him. Tall, strong and masculine; his arousal was magnificent. Her fingers ached
to touch him.

“Please.” She stretched out her arms to him. “Come here,
Annan.”

She did not need to ask twice.

Suddenly, he was on top of her, and kissing her as if he would
never have another chance to do so. Once again, their passion was not gentle,
not at all. Saewara twisted under Annan, arching her body against his, her
nails raking at his back. They kissed, licked and bit at each other in a frenzy.

Annan’s hands tangled in Saewara’s hair, and he pulled her
neck back so that he could bite her neck. Forcing her head back further, so
that her body arched like a bow toward him, Annan bent over her breasts. When
his hot mouth began to suckle her left breast, Saewara cried out, pressing
against him as he drew the nipple deep into his mouth; and when he slid a hand
between her thighs and stroked her gently there, she shuddered and groaned.

Eventually, Annan let go of Saewara and lay down on the furs,
on his back. He then pulled her astride him. Surprised, for she had never made
love to a man in this position, Saewara stared down at her husband’s face – at
his eyes that had turned a midnight blue. She ran her hands over the mature
lines of his chest, over the ridges of old scars that had turned silver with
time.

“Saewara,” Annan whispered hoarsely, as her hands stroked over
his belly to his hard shaft. “I swear you will be my undoing.”

Saewara chuckled at that, enjoying the power she had over him.
“I hope to be far more than that, Milord.”

Gently now, he lifted her over him. His gaze fused with hers
as she lowered herself onto him. The sensation of Annan inside her, filling
her, made Saewara arch her back and groan.

It had never felt like this with Egfrid – never.

They began to move, in a timeless rhythm that had them both
gasping within moments. Annan’s hands gripped her hips and he pulled her down
against him, harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. Then, he cupped
her breasts, stroking them and gazing at them as she continued to ride him.

Eventually, not able to contain himself any longer, Annan took
hold of her buttocks and arched toward her. He called her name, his body
shaking.

Saewara’s body hummed like a lyre played by a master musician.
Pleasure crested in a hot wave through her body, and a moment later, she felt
Annan explode within her.

They collapsed together on the furs; sweat-slicked and
trembling, their limbs tangled. Saewara lay against Annan’s chest, listening to
his heart thundering. The bower spun around them and she suddenly realized why
her sister by marriage held such power over her brother. For years, the bond
between Penda and Cyneswide had mystified Saewara – but no more. Passion this
powerful altered your mind; sapped your will. No wonder Annan had been wary of
giving in to it.

Saewara knew that she would never see the world in the same
way again.

They spent the rest of the day hidden away together in the
privacy of their bower.

Annan and Saewara spoke little, dozing in-between explosive lovemaking
that left them both unable to move – let alone speak – in the aftermath.
Saewara found her hunger for her husband increased with each time he took her.
Annan had ignited a bonfire within her that his kisses and touch just made burn
all the brighter.

As the light faded outside, and the revelers returned from the
meadows outside Exning, the lovers heard voices inside the hall. Fortunately,
no one interrupted them, and they lay, cocooned together in the furs, enjoying
the feel of skin against skin.

Eventually, hunger of a different kind drove Annan from their
bed. Leaving Saewara waiting for him, naked, wrapped in the furs, he dressed
silently and slipped out into the hall. A short while later, he returned with a
platter of cold meat, cheese, griddle bread, slices of moist honey-seed cake
and two large cups of ale.

They fell on the meal as if neither of them had eaten for
days, before feeding each other pieces of cake at the end. The eating then
turned to kissing, and the remains of their meal were pushed aside. The food was
forgotten, as the hunger for each other’s bodies returned.

***

Annan awoke in the depths of the night and stared up into the
darkness.

Saewara was curled up next to him. The soft sound of her
breathing was the only noise in the bower. It had been a life-changing day – one
that he could hardly believe had occurred.

Annan lay there for a while, his thoughts wheeling, before he
slid out of bed and quietly dressed. The intensity of what he felt for Saewara had
turned his world upside down. He had not been ready for it, and indeed had not
even realized the depths of his feelings until he followed her into the woods.
He needed some time on his own to sort his thoughts out.

A night stroll was in order.

Throwing a cloak over his shoulders to ward off the cool night
air, Annan picked his way over the sleeping figures in his hall and made his
way across to the doors. Outside, the air was silky with only a slight
crispness to it. The night was clear and a full moon lit his way as he walked
through the deserted streets of Exning to the village gates. The sleepy guards
opened the gates so that their king could make his way to Devil’s Dyke.

Torches lit the length of the fortification, outlining its
tall shadow against the night. Annan climbed a ladder up to the top, and
greeted one of his warriors who was taking his turn at the nightly watch.

“How goes it?”

“Quiet, Milord.”

“Very good – let’s enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

Annan made his way along the earthwork, casting the odd glance
down at where torches burned along the eastern side of the the fortification.
Devil’s Dyke has been a massive undertaking and Annan knew that Penda would not
be foolish enough to pit his
fyrd
against it. No, he would try another
way in.

That suited Annan, for another way in meant that the two
armies would not meet shield-wall to shield-wall. Instead, it would be on the
marshes to the north, or the woods to the south. Which Penda would choose was
anyone’s guess.

The clean air sharpened Annan’s senses and he drew deep
breaths of it. Tonight, his thoughts could not remain on Penda and the
approaching conflict between them for long. Instead, it moved to the Mercian
King’s winsome sister.

Saewara.

She had ruined him for any other woman – that was for certain.
Even now, his feelings for Hereswith seemed trivial in comparison. It was no
wonder he had spent so many years unmarried, for before Saewara he had never
seen women as companions. They were either to be bedded and forgotten about or
longed for from afar. Saewara had taught him that a woman, the right woman,
could transform his world. He had often made fun of Saba for the way his friend
had pursued Hilda, with no thought to how others might judge him. The ealdorman
cared not what others thought of his love for Hilda; he knew her worth and had
made sure everyone else knew it too.

Saba made him feel shallow and arrogant by comparison.

Yet, despite that he could not imagine life without Saewara at
his side, there was something that worried Annan; a worry that needled him even
when he tried to push it from his thoughts.

Although she had married him, Saewara was still Mercian. He
knew that blood flowed thicker than water – and even if she had been treated
cruelly by her own kin, Annan wondered where her loyalties ultimately lay.

You’re sleeping with the enemy
, a cruel voice
whispered.
Who is to say she will not betray you. If her brother triumphs,
who is to say she will remain at your side.

Stop it.
Annan shook his head,
cursing the part of him that trusted no one; the part of him that ensured his
survival in a world where only strong men lived past boyhood. He did not want
to think about this now; not after the most miraculous day of his life.

Let me enjoy this
, he told the voice,
drawing his cloak tightly around him despite that it was not cold.
I have
never before truly loved a woman – just let me have this one.

So be it,
the voice sneered back,
but you have been warned. Remember, she is Mercian. Her brother married you to
her for a reason. She is his pawn – placed in the enemy camp deliberately. When
the time comes, he will expect her to do his bidding.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Shadow
Approaches

Saewara stirred from a deep sleep and rolled over onto her
back, stretching her limbs like a cat. Now that she and Annan shared a bed, she
slept more soundly than she ever had before.

Beyond the hanging, she could hear the sounds of industry, as
the servants prepared the first meal of the day. The smell of baking bread made
Saewara’s stomach rumble and she sat up. She glanced to her right and felt a
stab of disappointment when she saw that Annan had already risen.

These days Annan rarely stayed in bed after dawn.

The preparations for the arrival of the Mercian army were
gaining momentum. A tense, watchful atmosphere had settled upon Exning. A huge
fyrd
now camped outside the walls; a sea of goat-hide tents that stretched away
into the distance. Annan spent his days overseeing the fabrication of weaponry
and the training of his warriors. Whenever, she saw him during daylight hours,
Annan was distracted, and often distant. Saewara did not blame him – he had a
lot on his mind, after-all.  Still, his aloofness stung slightly. It was like
dealing with a stranger; a world away from the man she thought she knew.

And yet, when he joined her in their bower late, after
spending the evening discussing battle tactics with his men, Annan was hers. He
came to her with the same fiery passion and need that he had the first time.
After making love, they lay entangled on the furs and talked at length.

They spoke of the future – of the things they would do and the
plans they would make when this was all over. They spoke of their hopes and
their dreams. Annan revealed that he had remained unmarried by choice, having
never trusted women. Saewara revealed the grief she had felt when the healer at
Tamworth pronounced her barren. Would Annan grow to resent her if she never
provided him with an heir? He had shaken his head vehemently at that, assuring
her that she was enough.

In daylight, it was the memory of those conversations that
stopped Saewara from doubting Annan. In the hall, he kept his distance from her
– and few who lived within the hall would have guessed that the king and queen
now shared a bed.

Saewara dressed in a thick
wealca
, suitable for the
day’s work, as she would be helping the other village women string bows.
Although longbows and arrows were not traditionally used during battle, Annan
wanted his army fully prepared. This was not to be a battle like the others, he
warned his warriors as they stood one afternoon over the dirt and wooden scale
model of Exning and the surrounding landscape that they had constructed in the
yard outside his hall.

“If we meet them in the woods, longbows and arrows will be our
best allies.”

Saewara agreed with Annan; her brother was a brilliant
tactician. He would not try to take on Devil’s Dyke. Although she would never
have dared voice the desire, Saewara wished that one of the longbows she was
helping to make would be hers – and that she would be able to wield it in
battle. However, such wishes were dreams. Annan would never let her join his
fyrd
;
it was unthinkable. Even so, Saewara bridled at the frustration of not being
able to join the bowmen in battle; few men had her aim.

The king was nowhere in sight when Saewara emerged from the
bower. That did not surprise her.

She took a slice of griddle bread and a cup of hot broth from
Hilda, to break her fast. Although no longer a slave, Hilda had stayed on to
cook in the king’s hall for the moment. She and Saba hoped to build a hall of
their own once the Mercian threat passed.

I hope it passes,
Saewara thought. A chill
seeped through her as she gave Hilda a brittle smile. The thought of Annan
facing Penda in battle made her break out in a cold sweat. She knew that Annan
was a formidable warrior; she had heard many a tale of his valor in battle.
Yet, her brother was not like other men. He fought like a wrathful god – and he
had never been bested.

The hall was a hive of activity, although Hereswith and her
maid were ensconced in one corner, embroidering dresses as if the shadow of
approaching war mattered not. Saewara felt a stab of irritation when her gaze
rested on Hereswith. Her sister-in-law had flatly refused to help the other
women with their preparations.

Aethelhere should take a firmer hand with you
, Saewara
thought before brushing crumbs off her skirts and handing Hilda back her empty
cup.
If the battle goes ill, you will not be so full of yourself.

The women exchanged venomous glances as Saewara made her way toward
the door, before Hereswith turned back to Eldwyn and whispered something. The
women burst into laughter.

Saewara ignored them and stepped outside.

Exning’s streets were thronged with men and horses. A
cacophony of noise – the shouts of men and battle practice, and the clang and
hiss of weaponry being forged – assaulted Saewara’s ears. Her skin prickled at
the sound of it; war was close, she could sense it.

Weaving her way through the busy streets, being careful not to
step on the horse dung which littered the ground, Saewara made her way to the clearing
where the village women were stringing bows and attaching heads to
arrow-shafts. Small mountains of arrows, fashioned out of Yew, rose around the
industrious women. Saewara greeted some of the women and they called back to
her warmly. She reached the group stringing hemp bowstrings to robust ash longbows
and took her place among them.

Saewara picked up one of the longbows and, once again, felt a
pang of frustration that she could not be of more use.

I’m lethal with a longbow and arrow – they should
let me fight.

They worked hard all day, only stopping for a brief meal at
noon, before continuing their labor. As they strung the longbows, the women
shared stories, and one or two told epics of love and loss that had some of the
listeners in tears by the end. Saewara listened in silence, enjoying her
companionship with the women. Having grown up among noblewomen, who would stab
another woman in the back if it suited them, it was a pleasure to be among
women who enjoyed each other’s company.

As they worked, Saewara noticed that the weather was taking a
turn for the worse. It had been a hot spell of weather. Yet, over the last day,
the air had changed. It was now humid, with that charged feel that warns of a
coming thunderstorm. Mid-afternoon, the thunder-clouds rolled in, and by the
time the women were packing up their supplies and carrying them to the armory,
ready for use, the first spots of rain stained the dusty streets.

Saewara was walking back to the hall when the first rumble of
thunder echoed in the distance. She had just entered the hall when it boomed
overhead and the storm unleashed its fury. Soon the damp, smoky air inside the
hall steamed as men hung up their wet cloaks to dry near the fire pit. The
sound of their voices, as they discussed their work and the preparations for
battle, almost drowned out the booming thunder.

Saewara had taken Hilda’s side, helping her prepare a pottage
for the evening meal, when Annan entered. He was drenched to the skin and
wringing water out of his hair. It was the first time she had seen him all day.
She could not help it; her gaze travelled over him, taking in the strong,
muscular planes of his body, evidenced by his sodden clothes. Feeling her gaze
upon him, Annan looked across the hall and their gazes fused.

Embarrassed at being caught staring in front of everyone,
Saewara felt her face heat up.

To her surprise, Annan winked at her and gave her a slow smile.

Saewara felt her embarrassment turn to desire. She knew that
look only too well. Breaking eye contact, Annan then crossed the hall, and
disappeared behind the wall hangings, in search of dry clothes. Saewara watched
him go, and resisted the impulse to go after him. They both knew what would
happen if she did.

Yet, what did it matter? True, the hall would bear witness to
the queen disappearing into her bower and would notice that the king and queen
were absent from the hall for the rest of the night – but why keep it secret?
Annan did not seem to care, why should she?

Saewara wiped her hands on a cloth and excused herself.

She was half-way across the hall when the doors blew open,
bringing with it a gust of rain that made the fire gutter in its hearth. Two rain-soaked
warriors rushed inside. The look on their faces made Saewara stop in her
tracks.

 “Where’s the king?” one of the men demanded, his gaze
sweeping the hall.

“Annan!” Saewara called, trying to quell the rising panic in
her breast.

Moments later, barefoot and naked to the waist, Annan emerged
from his bower.

“Milord,” the warrior who had demanded the king’s presence,
bowed. “The Mercians approach. Your scouts have spotted them a league southeast.
They are coming through the woods as you predicted.”

Saewara watched Annan’s face harden and his eyes narrow. The
fact that he had been right about Penda’s decision to tackle them through the
woods rather than the marshes, obviously gave him a little satisfaction.

Saewara’s stomach pitched toward her feet; she had sensed that
war was close but had hoped to have this night with her husband, at least.

That was not to be.

The hall erupted into controlled chaos. Annan sent men out to
recall the scouts patrolling the edge of the marshland to the north, before he went
to dress for battle. The evening meal was forgotten. The army of the East
Angles had to be mobilized, and quickly.

Saewara joined her husband in their bower – however, not for
the purpose they had both hoped for earlier. They did not speak as she helped
him dress. She helped him with his heavy chain mail vest before lacing leather
arm guards about his forearms and upper arms. Lastly, he buckled
Night
Bringer
around his hips. Coated in armor, his hair tied back at his nape,
he looked like a different man; hard and pitiless. Saewara was glad of it. The
warrior before her would bring the man she loved home, safe.

With a jolt, Saewara realized that she, indeed, did love him.

Neither of them had voiced those words but now was not the
right time. He did not need to see a woman’s tears, nor to have her cling to
him like a limpet. He needed her strength and, if it would bring him home, then
she would give it.

 Once Annan was dressed for battle, his helmet tucked under
one arm, Saewara followed him out into the hall. Saba was there waiting, while
Hilda finished helping him with his armor. Unlike Saewara, Hilda was not so
stoic. She was in floods of tears as she handed him his lime-wood shield.

“Hush, Love.” Saba pulled Hilda against him and kissed her. “I
must go now. Wait for me.”

“The
fyrd
is ready,” Aethelhere, his usually
good-humored, boyish face tense with purpose, announced. “Your men await your
command, Annan.”

A few steps behind Aethelhere stood Hereswith. She looked pale
and frightened. She plucked at her husband’s sleeve but he ignored her; his
gaze was riveted on his brother’s face, as was every other man’s in the hall.
This was the moment they had all been waiting for. They needed their king. They
needed his strength. They needed to believe that, this time, the East Angles
would best the Mercians.

“And I’m ready to join them,” Annan replied, swinging his own
shield onto his back. “Let’s send those curs back where they belong.”

Saewara thought he would stride from the hall then, intent on
nothing but the battle ahead, but instead, he turned to her.

They stood close to one another. He was so much taller than
her that Saewara had to crane her neck to meet his gaze – but meet their gazes
did.

“Will you wait for me, Saewara?” he asked, unexpectedly.

She heard the sudden doubt in his voice and it stabbed her
straight in the heart.

“Till the end of the world,” she whispered, “and beyond – I
will wait for you Annan of the East Angles. Come back to me safe.”

Annan did not reply. Instead, he bent and kissed her, cupping
her face with his hands. It was a hard, passionate kiss; the first any of the
hall’s inhabitants had seen them share. Saewara’s lips stung as he pulled back.
Suddenly, it was if they were alone in the hall. Saewara’s chest ached with
unshed tears. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but there was no
time.

Then, the moment ended.

Annan turned, his cloak billowing, and the hall erupted into
movement once more.

Saewara watched, feeling as if her heart had just been ripped
from her chest, as the man she loved walked from the hall and out into the
stormy night.