London - Edward Rutherfurd [76]
She had refused.
Ricola gazed at her mistress for a long moment before she spoke.
“You’re mad. You know that?”
Even a week before such words from slave to mistress would have been unimaginable, but much had passed between the two women in those last days.
Alone in the whole household, it was Ricola who had sat with Elfgiva on those nights when, unable to hide her grief entirely, the older woman had allowed silent tears to run down her face. It was to the slave that Elfgiva had turned when young Wistan had fled from his furious father into the woods. Ricola had sent her husband to find the boy and they had hidden him in their tiny hut for the night. “It’s the one place the master won’t think of looking for him,” she had remarked with a grin. And when Cerdic was down at the jetty that morning, it was Ricola who had smuggled Wistan in to see his mother and had heard him plead with her: “I stopped the girl coming. Won’t you be baptized now, and go back to him?”
So Elfgiva did not rebuke the girl for her impertinence; she just stared into the fire, and said nothing.
The truth was, she did not know what to do. The sight of her youngest son pleading, the thought of all he had done for her, moved her profoundly. How could she refuse him after such a show of love? Yet it was not so easy. Had anything really changed? They beg me to give in today, she considered. They tell me it will be all right. But what about tomorrow? Won’t my husband get restless? Won’t it be the same all over again, and even more painful?
She listened to Ricola urging her, “If you don’t convert, then he’s sure to look for another wife. Otherwise he’ll look a fool again. I mean, maybe he’ll throw you over one day, but that’s a risk you have to take, isn’t it? Better than losing him now.” And shaking her head the girl said firmly: “You’re just looking a gift horse in the mouth. You’ve nothing to lose.”
“Except my dignity.” The girl looked doubtful. But then dignity meant less, Elfgiva supposed, if one were only fifteen and a slave.
And so, for some time, the two quietly sat together without coming to any conclusion, until at last Elfgiva, growing weary, sent the girl away. Ricola went, but not before turning by the door and saying fearlessly: “He’s not so bad, you know, your husband. If you won’t have him, just remember all the other women that will.” That, the earthy girl considered, would give her mistress something to think about.
As Yuletide approached, a new animation came over the people at Lundenwic. Offa helped the men drag a huge log into Cerdic’s hall, where it would slowly burn for many days, a token that, though the sun might depart, here on earth the Anglo-Saxon fire in the hearth would smoulder on until spring returned. Ricola helped the women. At the Yuletide feast there would be venison. Brought in from the store would be great jars of fruit preserved from the summer – apples, pears and mulberries. There would be drink, including that speciality of the Saxons known as morat, made of honey and mulberry juice.
And each day, as they worked and the time of the festival drew near, the women gossiped together and wondered: Will the Lady Elfgiva still be there?
As for Elfgiva, she found herself perhaps more torn than ever. As Yuletide drew close, happy memories of that season came flooding back. She had nowhere to go to. Her husband had bluntly offered, once more, to have her back. Even on his terms she might have done it. She understood well enough how absolute his duty or his pride, whichever it was, must always be to him. But was she allowed no pride, no self-respect, in return?
If he would only beg me, she mourned to herself. If he would only show tenderness, even a little regret. But he left her there, like some poor animal tethered and forgotten in a storm.
It was one evening during this critical time that Ricola the slave formed a plan to save her mistress. It was typical of her entire outlook on life: down-to-earth, sensuous, cheeky and, it had to be admitted, extremely brave. When he heard it, Offa was horrified.