After the Battle and initial Negotiations Drustin get's tired of the constant bickering amongst her own Celtic race. She learns that her older brother might be alive and sets off to find him.

The Angry Mermaid 128
Or.
Y Morforwyn Dicllon 128

At the end of the Castle Garden lay the South Western corner of the city walls. At this point the city lay atop a rocky escarpment where the wall had been built to enhance the natural defence formed by the rocky cliff. It was a simple step from the garden to battlement to then look down over the Rodeo across the River Dyfrdwy to the brooding hills of Cambria. Harald joined the Lioness as she stared thoughtfully across at her newly liberated homeland. He spoke thoughtfully.

“Cambria; yours to rule now Lioness.”

Drustina smiled ruefully as she replied.

“Nobody ever really rules Cambria Viking. Each Cambrian is a lord in his own mind and the best a Cambrian prince or princess can wish for is that each of them holds that regent in enough affection to respect his or her wishes.”

“But they respect you Lioness. You have brought them victory and recovered their independence for them. They are free of all yokes now, Viking, Saxon or Mercian.”

“They’re only free to go back to their own internecine squabbling. Give my people six months and one of the princes will be at war with another. That is why the Saxons have been able to divide and rule my people and take all the good land. I give them six to twelve months and they’ll be fighting amongst themselves again or fighting with the Saxons the length and breadth of The Marches.”

“So what are you to do?”

Drustina turned away from the wall and sighed.

“Nothing. I’m sick of fighting, sick of war, sick of trying to patch up differences. The Saxon’s have all but settled their differences and they have a good alliance with the Mercians. Soon both Mercian and Saxon will become one nation; they are already one people who speak the same tongue. My people continue to bicker and squabble. Already I seem to spend all my waking hours arbitrating between one Celtic princeling and another. Carl spends but a couple of hours each morning attending to his governance; I could spend the whole day, every day and never finish the business that is Cambria. The more I look at those hills the more I want to relinquish all suzerainty over my fellow Celts. Just attend to Gwynedd, Lleyn and Sir Fon, my own lands.”

“You are too soft on them Lioness. Knock a few heads together, knock some sense into them.”

Gisela felt bound to speak.

“Your problem Lioness is that you have no more to aim for. You are not yet thirty and you have already achieved what you wanted to do. The problem is that your dream has not matched your reality. Your view of Cambria was the view of that happy little estate where your family used to run their ship-building enterprise. You were but thirteen summers when you departed and your child’s view of that idyll has not matched your adult return. You expect too much.”

~o00o~

Drustina sighed a little wearily. Gisela was probably right, the girl had an old head on young shoulders. It seemed the peace was harder to manage than the war. Every hot-headed Celt with an issue was clamouring for her attention and arbitration about the most minor issues, even seemingly trivial issues like who had rights to water their cattle in which stream.

This was an issue that had infuriated Drustina when she was asked to adjudicate. Two fairly wealthy farmers had dragged the case to her court all the way from Demetae *. The two men were squabbling over a spring that very occasionally dried up for perhaps a month at most in a long, hot, dry summer. Drustina had not been at her best that morning and she got angry as she tore into both of the farmers who were relatively wealthy yeoman land-owners.

“If you’ve got the energy to trudge all the way from Demetae to Chester then you’ve got the energy to build a bloody Dam and make a reservoir of water for your cattle in the summer months! I sentence you to do just that. I am granting you equal rights to the water and that means you’ll have to bring the same number of cattle to the water each day when you have only the reservoir for supply! When the spring is flowing take what you need. By the gods, does not Cambria have water enough; even in Demetae it rains enough to float a longship up every bloody river!”

The farmers had frowned more with embarrassment than discontent. The solution had been made blindingly simple. The truth was they had been too tight fisted to spend effort and money. Drustina had sent them away with a flea in both their ears and an arbitrator from Carl’s court to oversee fair-play with the dam. Being Celts, the farmers were not too happy to have a Saxon act as judge but at least they knew he would be impartial. It was from that simple issue that Drustina had called together the other Celtic princes to organise the first travelling circus of circuit judges to arbitrate in disputes. From this beginning the Celtic laws became codified through the independent travelling judges and a fairly universal set of laws arose in Wales.

More importantly, Celts did not have to travel hundreds of miles on foot just to attend Drustina’s court. The judges circuited the newly developing towns on a quarterly basis every three months. Only serious disputes were handled by Drustina between princes or where the issue affected many people. After accompanying his wife to these hearings, Carl created something similar in his fiefdom and that was soon copied to become Saxon law that eventually became English law.

~o00o~

As she reflected upon those issues that day in the Garden, she felt that Harald was preoccupied with another issue, namely his son. The Norse king was wishing to leave for his kingdom but he was loath to leave without his son. Drustina had sensed this as well and she too was loath to abandon her children at such a tender age. As both of them stared across to the Welsh hills, the Viking broached the subject.

“Am I to have my son to raised as my prince and rule after my passing?”

Drustina turned to him knowing how hard it was for either parent to be separated from their children. She explained tactfully yet leaving the man with hope.

“Not yet. He is too young.”

The truth was that Drustina could not trust the Viking king to return the boy if she sent him to Norway for occasional visits. She remembered the old adage that the priests of Polanda had told her. ‘Give us the child, you can have the man!’
As she paused for thought Harald pressed harder.

“What age then?”

“How about when he is old enough to wield a sword?”

“But that would be – what; nine summers from now possibly ten! He will be a Saxon or a Celt by the time I get him!”

“What d’you mean ‘get him’? He’s not yours’ to own Viking. He is your son, not a horse or a sword.

“But if you raise him he’ll grow up to be a ...”

“Cultured, educated warrior!” Drustina finished Harald’s sentence for him.

It was Harald’s turn to frown as he riposted weakly.

“I was going to say Celt or Saxon.”

Drustina snorted with amusement.

“He’s half Celt anyway Viking. He has my blood as well as yours.”

After another thoughtful silence Harald tried another tack, ‘compassion’.

“So I am not to see my son for ten years. Who will teach him Viking ways, Norse tongue, who will tell him the Sagas?”

Gisela stepped forward and alerted her father.

“Ahem! Hello-oo, father; am I not a Norsewoman? Who better to teach a child all the Viking ways than his own sister? Do I not know all the customs, all the Viking sagas? Is my language not your language? My brother will grow as a child with his mother and his sister to teach him. And as for the sword who better than The Lioness of Carthage, not to mention her Saxon Spouse. If he stays here with me, he will learn of Viking ways well enough from me. I have also fought and won scars from battle.
Harald cursed as his argument was so easily countered.

“So I am not to see my son, to watch him grow, to take him hunting great white bears.”

“You never took me!” Gisela scolded him.

“You’re a gir...” he stopped as he caught Drustina’s penetrating stare, “girl.” He finished lamely then added, “you only hunt wolves, deer and boar in Britannia. There are no white bears in your land.”

“So hunting a bear is the measure of manhood is it?”

“Yes.”

“At aged – what; six, seven, ten, twenty? Not three, I’ll wager!”

“Well no.” Harald conceded. “Fifteen at least. White bears are very dangerous!”

“Right then, my son will come to your court at aged fifteen and he WILL be trained with weapons, all weapons as well as the Viking broadsword!”

“So I do not see him for twelve years!” Harald protested.

“If the only reason is to hunt bears then no – you won’t! If you want the boy because you love him as a father should then it’s nine years from now as I said earlier. You can come and visit him here at any time. Indeed; I would want you to come and see him.”
Harald’s eyes widened in mild surprise at the open invite.

“You mean I am free to visit ... anytime.”

“Of course. I hope to see trade between our countries, not war. You have Iron we have corn, you have fish and timber; we have cattle and wool. I would be pleased for you to visit your son every summer. He needs to know his father.”

“What of the Saxon; your husband? Would he harm the child?”

Drustina bristled more at the presumptuous stupidity of Cold-blood’s question rather than the Viking’s fatherly jealousy.

“Damn it Viking. Do you think I would marry a brute who would hurt my child? If you do then you underestimate me and my Saxon husband. He can teach him hunting, weapons, reading and writing just as I will also teach him all that plus a mother’s love. So now we come to the other major issue, what of your daughter ... our daughter?”

Harald fell silent. He had not once considered his daughter so pre-occupied he had been with his son. He realised that Drustina was bristling again with discontent and his silence told Drustina all she wanted to know so she took the bull by the horns and laid down her law.

My daughter will not be wedded off like some brood mare to the highest bidder or some political ambition. She chooses if or when or who she is to wed.

“You mean like Gisela?” Harald riposted. "Free to indulge a Sapphic bride!"

Even as Gisela drew breath to swear at her father Drustina nipped any further argument in the bud.

"The princess, your daughter, is old enough to make her own decisions and choices and she does! On the day she achieves her majority, she ceases to be my ward."

“What of my rights as a father?”

“Dammit again Viking, you forsook those rights when you banned her for her sapphism and sent her into exile from your court and sentenced her to a presumed early death in battle. You know how we found her don’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied in a small, tight voice.

“So the girl chooses to stay with us until she is ready to make her own way and that I’m thinking will be soon. Am I right princess?”

“Yes Lioness!”

Gisela nodded vigorously then added to Drustina’s surprise.

“I have already been offered a post in Ethelred’s court Lioness.”

Drustina’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Oh, do tell girl, I am intrigued and pleased.”

Gisela slumped slightly, more with relief than pleasure. She had been anticipating an angry Lioness.

“Oh, thank the gods. I was nervous about your response.”

Drustina’s grin widened further.

“If you have a position in Ethelred’s court then I am pleased for you. It saves my purse as well. May I ask what this post is?”

“Promise me you won’t be annoyed.”

“Now you worry me girl, do not keep me in suspense.”

“Ethelred wants me to be his ambassador to my father’s court in Norway.”

“Ha!! Ha-ha! Oh that is sweet! The wheel turns full circle then! You return to your homeland with Ethelred’s ambassadorial protection. Have you accepted the post?”

“I must speak with my father; he has to receive my letters from Ethelred.”

Drustina turned to Harald.

“So Viking. Will you accept Ethelred’s ambassadress?”

Harald was as surprised as Drustina but he smiled as he shook his head in sheer amazement. Drustina stepped in on Gisela’s behalf.

“I can assure you, for all her youth, the girl is smart and brave and discreet. She has served me well with sword and pen and wit!”

“You don’t have to tell me how clever or brave she is Lioness. She is after all my daughter!”

“Oh! Of course; stupid of me, sorry!”

Harald’s head jerked back in mild surprise.

“By the gods woman. You just apologised to me.”

Drustina grinned; she was getting to like the Viking king as he mellowed into fatherhood. She could never love him as she did Carl but the man was proving to have a human side. She replied.

“Then just remember; King of the Vikings you may be, but none of us are too high and mighty but to apologise when we are at fault.

Harald wagged his head in admiration as they returned to the castle.

~o00o~

They entered the castle to find one of Carl’s heralds in earnest conversation with the Saxon. Drustina paused and tugged Harald’s arm to keep out of earshot.

“The herald looks concerned, let Carl deal with it first. If he wants us to be involved he’ll call us.”

Harald agreed and turned to carry their son into his antechamber while Gisela followed with the sister twin. As Drustina turned from watching them Carl called across the hall.

“Dru, I’ve got some news, if it’s true you’ll be a very happy woman.”

“Go on,” she replied.

“Did I hear you say you once had two brothers?”

“Yes, why?”

“What happened to them?”

“Oh hell, they died fighting Vikings long ago. My younger brother Feorin died when they attacked our settlement, my older brother Morgaran was killed somewhere on the Celtic sea probably in a battle with a Viking longship that was years ago, what brought this up.”

“My herald here has just come back from Preston they were liberating slaves and one of them claims to be your older brother.”

Drustina’s heart flipped as she swallowed with hope.

“Morgaran? Alive!”

The man claims he is he.

“Where is he? I must see him!”

“They are travelling here to Chester, on foot. My Herald uses the post horses.”

Drustina turned to the Herald.

“How many days before they’re here.”

The Herald wrinkled his brow.

“It’s hard to say your majesty. The column is added to every day by more liberated slaves. Some of them are sick and infirm. Progress is very slow.”

“Damn! I must see the man; see if it is really him. Have Seripatese saddled, now!”

Carl called as she strode towards the door.

“Drustina wait! There’s an important dinner tonight! Ethelred and Edrinor are leaving tomorrow for their respective capitals.
This is the last night they are together here in Chester. It’s the farewell supper!”

“Bugger the farewell supper, I need to see if my brother is really alive! Are you coming with me Gisela?”

Carl cursed and turned to Harald.

“What can you do with her?”

The Viking king shrugged apologetically.

“Don’t ask me, if her brother was a slave to a Viking then she won’t be pleased to have anything to do with me.”

Carl cursed and sent messages to Ethelred and Edrinor to say the Lioness would not be at the supper. As they discussed the implications Ethelred appeared.

“Why won’t she be coming?” He asked.

Carl explained the situation and the Saxon King wagged his head.

“She never was one to stand on ceremony. Where is she now, perhaps I can persuade her to stay, command her even!”
Cold-blood wagged his head.

“You’ll not command her against her will Saxon.”

“I’ll bloody well try!” Ethelred replied as he turned to visit Drustina’s chambers.

Suddenly all the men heard a commotion in the courtyard then the clatter of hooves on cobbles. Carl rushed to the window overlooking the courtyard only to see Drustina and Gisela trotting through the main gate heading through the city towards the Northgate.

“Dammit, she’s dressed for campaigning! I didn’t expect her to get ready so quickly.

“It’s what she does best!” Harald observed.

“Aye, your right enough,” Ethelred agreed, “but she’s taken my Norse ambassadress with her!”

“You’ll not catch them now. They’re travelling light and fast!” Carl observed as he turned to his herald. “Take a fresh horse and follow her, you at least know the road!”

“I’ve been on the road since Dawn sire! I’ll despatch a fresh herald who knows the way.”

“Very well man. Do what you have to. Just see she takes the shortest road.”

Carl fretted until he heard the clatter of fresh hooves then he turned towards the two kings.

“I’d never be able to dissuade her from her intentions but at least if somebody can show her the Preston Road, she will complete her mission that much faster.”

That evening as Drustina and Gisela prepared to sleep under the stars, the Herald who was sent to guide her passed her as he wrongly presumed the Lioness and her royal protégé would choose an inn. It was not until the following morning before he finally rendezvoused with Drustina who had not been expecting him. When he approached her on the road his blood curdled when she flashed out her sword and challenged him.

“Who are you? Why have you followed us?”

He swallowed fearfully as the sword pricked his tunic buttons.

“Dammit Lioness I am Carl the Saxon’s herald, he sent me to guide you along the Preston road. Vikings roads are not as well marked as our roads and once you cross the Mersea you will realise that.”

“I can ask the way.” She replied with her sword still pricking the herald’s chest.

“And risk being attacked.” He cautioned her. “Many people in that realm are Viking and none of the other original tribes will recognise your Celtic accent or your Saxon tongue. There is much suspicion and lawlessness; it is dangerous for a woman to travel alone ... sorry I mean to travel without clear identity. The local tribes know now that Carl is their liege lord but they know nothing of you personally.”

As he spoke he unbuttoned his riding coat to reveal a tabard in Carls colours and explained further.

“They recognise my herald’s tabard so I can at least inform them as we meet on the road. Otherwise, if they see two women alone they might think ‘easy pickings’.”

“If they do, they’ll learn soon enough we are not.”

“But still they will have tried and there will be blood spilled. At least with me by your side you have identity and official status. People will recognise that and respect these colours I wear. Carl’s victory is a popular one.”

Drustina’s jaw clenched angrily as she corrected him.

“It was my victory herald and don’t you forget that. Cold-blood surrendered to me not Ethelred or Edrinor or Carl or Dorvan or Udris; he surrendered to me!”

The man swallowed as he realised the enormity of his error. He had been seeing the victory as a Saxon victory and because Carl was his liege lord, he had unthinkingly associated the Saxon victory with his Saxon boss. The Lioness was absolutely right and everybody knew it; it was her victory.

He apologised and Drustina withdrew her sword from his chest.

"Good we’ve got that established. No harm done so lead on herald. Show us the road to Preston."

~oo000oo~

That next night they stayed at an Inn that was crowded with travellers returning to their homelands and families as the country sorted itself out from the Chaos of wars and campaigns.

Despite her high status, Drustina was magnanimous enough to help the inn-keeper’s dilemma by offering to share her bed with her travelling companion Gisela.

During the night she woke to find Gisela sobbing softly. Drustina reached over and the young princess tensed nervously.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m Sapphic. “

Drustina squeezed the girl’s shoulder gently.

“I know that princess but why do you cry, what makes you sad?”

“I cannot ... no – I do not want to marry.”

“Go on.”

“If I do not marry, I cannot have a child ... children.”

Drustina paused silently then spoke slowly.

“You have your cycles do you not?”

“Yes.”

“Then what stops you from having a child?”

“Who would care for it, who would be its father? If I am unmarried and have a child it will be a pariah, a bastard child. Other women will shun me.”

“A bastard child, you mean like your brother?”

“No-oo!” Gisela almost snarled. He is my father’s son, he is a prince; he cannot be a bastard!”

“But he is also my son and I am not married to your father so that would make him a bastard by your own rule.”

Gisela fell silent again. She had realised that the rule she had been applying to herself should also be applied to others. Because she was Sapphic and deemed a lesser person by some, she had thus believed herself to be a lesser being with fewer rights. Her own feelings of guilt had caused her to punish herself by applying harder standards to herself.

‘Drustina was right. If she Gisela had an ‘illegitimate’ child it was no more or less a child than Drustina’s children.’

She sat up as the realisation hit her hard.

“I can can’t I ... You have!”

“Have children you mean?” Drustina ascertained.

“Yes! Why should I be counted a lesser woman?”

“I don’t count you a lesser woman, and I’m sure that every man in that battle who saw you risking your life at every turn would not count you a lesser woman!”

“No – but the women at home did; they condemned me for my sapphism.”

“You have moved beyond the ‘women at home’ girl,” (Drustina almost spat the words,) “you have become your own woman. You are an ambassadress to Ethelred the King of all Wessex and when Edrinor dies, he will be the superior king of the Angles, Mercians and Saxons. His brother in law is the future king of Mercia. You have by your own endeavours risen to the king’s personal high table; if Ethelred despatches you as his ambassadress, you will be the king’s representative and a free-woman in your own right.”

“But what if I become with child?”

“That would take a man’s part.”

“Or yours.” Gisela croaked silently.

Drustina fell into a thoughtful silence and Gisela wondered if she had caused offence.

“Are you angry?”

“No-oo ... I’m not angry, but you realise your child would be a sibling to the future king of Norway and also his niece or nephew.”

“But there is no inbreeding, there is no intermixed blood!”

“Of course not, but what of my husband Carl? Might he not have some say? Some would say he was being cuckolded if I fathered a child whilst married to him. I would have to speak with him first!”

“So we cannot do it here, now, tonight?”

“Sadly no, besides you have only just reached your sixteenth summer.”

Gisela sniffed.

“Huh, most of the girls at the palace including my sisters, were all married and with child by fifteen!”

Drustina took Gisela’s jaw and gently turned her head to stare deeply into her eyes.

“You are not like other girls Gisela. You are special, your experiences and troubles have made you special and your Sapphism makes you special. Having my child will make you extra special but it will also invite censure and condemnation from this new one-god faith. Are you prepared to bear that abuse?”

“My father claims your son ... his son as his heir. If this new church dares to condemn me, they will be de-facto censuring him. He won’t tolerate that in Norway!”

“Good point girl, you see, you have a good head for arguing. Now go to sleep. If you are to have my child, I will discuss it first with my Saxon.”

“Does he have to know?”

“Yes. We have been through too much together to start breaking our trust now. He is mine, I am his; we have no secrets between us.”

Gisela spooned gratefully into Drustina and sighed.

“I hope he’ll agree. I wish I could find a partner as loyal as you.”

They slept until Dawn.

~o000o~

Author's note

*Demetae is Pembroke in Wales nowadays.

Copyright to Beverly Taff.