To Love Again - Bertrice Small [51]
“It is,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching just slightly. The girl was tough, and refused to be beaten. He’d give her that. “Speak more gently to my lady wife in future, mongrel,” he warned her. “She is deserving of respect.”
“Only if she earns it, Berikos,” Cailin shot back, and turning on her heel, left them.
“There!” Berikos crowed. “You have seen the rough edge of her tongue now, Wulf Ironfist, but it is too late! She is your wife.”
“The barb was not directed at me, Berikos. I like a woman who speaks her mind. I will only beat her if she defies me,” he answered.
Ceara, Maeve, and Nuala arrived even as the mid-afternoon winter sunset was turning the sky glorious shades of red, orange, gold, and dark purple. One cold bright star hung over Berikos’s hill fort, as if guiding them to the warm safety within. Nuala was excited to be home, and hugged her cousin tightly while her elders removed the cloaks.
Before they might hear it elsewhere, Berikos told his two older wives of Cailin’s marriage. Both were clearly horrified, and equally furious at Brigit’s part in the matter.
“She did it to be cruel,” Maeve cried in a rare show of anger before her husband. “You were filled with wine and mead, I’ve not a doubt, and went along with the bitch’s mischief! Oh, shame, Berikos!”
“You do not have to accept him as a husband, my child,” Ceara said, her calm tones belying her outrage. “There is no shame among our peoples if a woman samples pleasure with several men. If she learns to give equal pleasure, it but enhances her reputation as a possible wife. You can withdraw your consent, Cailin, if you wish. Berikos can return the Saxon’s gold piece. It can be done honorably.”
“I do not wish to withdraw my consent, Ceara,” Cailin said calmly. “Wulf Ironfist is a good man. I am content to be his wife. There is no other to whom I am attracted. Have you not been nagging me about marrying, lady?” she teased.
“But when he has finished his work here,” Ceara wailed, “he will take you away to the Saxon shore, and we will never see you again!”
“Good riddance, I say!” Brigit sneered.
Ceara rounded on her. “Shut your mouth, bitch! I should have killed you when I first laid eyes upon you. You are nothing but trouble!” Then she turned on her husband. “I have honored you my entire life, Berikos,” she began. “I have defended your decisions even when I knew them to be wrong. I stood silently by when you disowned your only daughter, and never said a word in Kyna’s defense when I should have. I gritted my teeth when you would not allow us to share the joy of the births of Brenna’s grandchildren, and I stood by silently again when Brenna left us to be with Kyna and her family.
“You are a foolish old man, Berikos! You wish to restore the Dobunni to greatness. What greatness? We never had any greatness! We are a simple clan. If you try to drive the Britons from their lands, they will fight back to defend these lands they have farmed for the last few hundred years. You will not succeed in this mad scheme even if I cannot prevent you from pursuing it; but I will not let Brenna’s only surviving grandchild leave us! You will give this Saxon the lands you promised him, and they will remain here. Unless, of course,” she concluded, “you wish to spend your days alone without Maeve and me.”
Berikos was flabbergasted. In all the years they had been married, Ceara had never spoken so harshly to him, privately or in public. He had also never seen her so angry. “What do you mean without Maeve and you?” was all he could think of to say. He did not even rail at her for her overly frank speech.
“We will leave you,