To Love Again - Bertrice Small [192]
When the light had faded from the sky, so that she could no longer see what she was doing, Cailin sat quietly listening to the sounds from the hall below. The men were growing drunk. She could tell by the high hilarity, the laughter, and the singing. Occasionally she heard the sound of breaking crockery and was angered. It was difficult obtaining good Samienware now. Eventually, however, the din lessened, and finally the hall grew silent.
Satisfied that the intruders were sleeping a drunken sleep, Cailin arose and stretched. She was exhausted with the tension involved in keeping a step ahead of Ragnar Strongspear. With her very last bit of strength, she shoved two storage chests over the solar door for extra protection. The windows were much too narrow for anyone to get through. She wondered what had happened to Aelfa. The bitch would have been the only woman in evidence tonight. Cailin removed her tunic dress and lay down in her bed space. How long would it take Wulf to return? She wondered, and then fell into an uneasy sleep.
She awoke automatically, as she always did and, arising, went to the window to look out. The sky was already growing light, and she could see smoke coming from the bake house. Her breasts were full again, and she once more expressed her milk. Cailin splashed water on her face, relieved herself, and quickly dressed. Pushing the chests away from the solar door, she slipped the bolt silently. Opening the door, she lowered the ladder to climb down into the hall.
About her she observed Ragnar Strongspear and his men sprawled in their drunken slumber. There was absolutely no sign of Aelfa, but then the wench was no longer her concern. The hall was a shambles of overturned benches and tables, broken pottery and vomit. Cailin wrinkled her nose distastefully. The rushes would have to be changed immediately. The hall door had not been bolted, and so she slipped out into the courtyard. Although the gates were barred, she could see no one on duty.
Hurrying to the bake house, she entered and asked the baker, “Where are the men? There is no one in the yard.”
“I do not know, lady,” the baker replied nervously. “I have not left the bake house since the intruders came. I am safest here, I think.”
“Aye,” Cailin agreed, “you are. Do not fear, Wulf Ironfist will come soon, and then these men will be driven from Cadda-wic.”
Cailin left the bake house and hurried to the storage barn. “Come out,” she called to the women servants. “It is morning, and the invaders lie drunk in the hall. It is safe now.”
The women climbed up from the cellar beneath the barn and stood before their mistress. She viewed them carefully. Two were young and very pretty. They were still apt to be in danger, but the others, older and plainer, would not be unless the men were very drunk and very randy. She sent the two pretty maids to the bake house.
“Tell the baker you are to remain with him. You should be safe if you stay there. If any of Ragnar Strongspear’s men come in, keep your heads down, your eyes lowered, and if you must look up, twist your faces to look ugly. It may be your only protection. Go now. The yard is safe and empty. Our men seem to have disappeared.”
The two girls ran off, and Cailin then told the remaining women, “Go about your duties as you normally would. If Wulf Ironfist does not come today, then you must hide here again tonight. I will not be able to come for you when the time is right. You must help yourselves. It is all I can do to stay out of Ragnar Strongspear’s clutches.”
The trespasser and his men finally awoke and stumbled from the hall to relieve themselves. Cailin and her women swept the hall free of debris and all signs of sickness. Fresh rushes were laid, mixed with fragrant herbs. The morning meal was served, but eaten by few before being cleared away.
Ragnar sat at the high board, a large goblet of wine gripped in his fist. “Where are your men?” he demanded of Cailin.