motte and bailey.
Caedmon clenched his jaw. “This is what infuriated King Malcolm, the thing that drove him to the ill-advised foray into Northumbria that ended in his death. He was maddened that Rufus was determined to cut the Scots off from their traditional influence in Cumbria. I’m glad I didn’t see him fall at Alnwick. He was a good man.”
Agneta said nothing.
“In a way, if the Norman king hadn’t undertaken this fortification, you and I might never have met.”
Agneta remained silent.
“We won’t stay in Carlisle itself. Too many Normans.
Agneta stiffened. “Sometimes I get tired of your constant complaining about Normans, Caedmon.”
This time Caedmon kept quiet, seeing no point in bringing up her resentment of him and his Scottish allies. He was an optimistic man at heart, but despaired she would ever forgive him. Did she care for him at all?
~~~
“Are we far from the sea?” Agneta asked. “I’ve never seen the sea.”
Caedmon sniffed the air. “I can smell it.”
Lady Ascha smiled. “Reminds me of the smell of the Firth, back home.”
Lady Ascha’s mouth dropped open and a look of resignation passed between Caedmon and his mother.
“We might be well advised to head in that direction and avoid Lancaster,” he suggested.
They turned west after seeking directions from a villager and after about two hours, came to the sands of Heysham. They sat for a long while perched on their horses atop the cliffs overlooking the beaches, gazing out to sea.
Agneta found it soothing to watch the waves curl and break on the beach. She tightened her arms around Caedmon’s waist, using him as a shield against the wind. “Can we go down there?”
“We’ll stay with the mounts, Caedmon. I’ve no wish to get sand in my boots,” Lady Ascha said.
Caedmon, Agneta and Leofric set off to look for a path, but Leofric stopped and came back to the group. “May I ask Lady Coventina to join us?” he asked her mother.
Coventina’s eyes lit up. “Please, mother,” Coventina begged.
“Very well, since Sir Caedmon and Lady Agneta are accompanying you.”
Leofric assisted Coventina to dismount, and the four of them hurried off to find the way down. Once at the beach they took off their boots and prepared to walk along the wet brown sands, rippled into ridges by the tide. Coventina offered to assist Leofric with his boots.
“Don’t worry, Coventina, I’ll do it,” Caedmon offered, and Agneta admired her husband for trying to spare Leofric’s feelings.
“I can manage it myself,” Leofric objected, but she could see he was grateful for Caedmon’s offer of help.
“The sand feels strange,” Agneta murmured. “It sticks to my feet.”
Caedmon took her hand and the four walked briskly. The wind whipped the wimples off the women’s heads. Coventina gasped and looked worriedly at Agneta, then struggled to adjust the flapping wimple back around her hair. Suddenly Leofric took her hand. The girl glanced up at the cliffs then smiled at Leofric and the two kept walking.
“He’ll have to marry her now,” Caedmon whispered in his wife’s ear with a grin.”Not only has he seen her hair, he’s holding her hand.”
Agneta pulled Caedmon to a halt. “Does she know? About Bolton?”
Caedmon looked down at the sand. “I’m not sure. But if not, please let him tell her.”
Agneta nodded. “I want to go in the water.”
She shivered in the winter breeze and Caedmon wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing the hand he held to his lips. “You taste salty. The water will be cold this time of year,” he warned.
She pouted. “But I want to at least put my toes in. We might never see the sea in Ruyton.”
He pulled her to the water. She squealed when the cold waves lapped her feet, and ran away from the incoming tide. Instantly she missed the warmth of Caedmon’s hand, the comfort of his arm around her.
“You’re a coward, wife,” he taunted, reaching down and playfully splashing water
Caedmon clenched his jaw. “This is what infuriated King Malcolm, the thing that drove him to the ill-advised foray into Northumbria that ended in his death. He was maddened that Rufus was determined to cut the Scots off from their traditional influence in Cumbria. I’m glad I didn’t see him fall at Alnwick. He was a good man.”
Agneta said nothing.
“In a way, if the Norman king hadn’t undertaken this fortification, you and I might never have met.”
Agneta remained silent.
“We won’t stay in Carlisle itself. Too many Normans.
Agneta stiffened. “Sometimes I get tired of your constant complaining about Normans, Caedmon.”
This time Caedmon kept quiet, seeing no point in bringing up her resentment of him and his Scottish allies. He was an optimistic man at heart, but despaired she would ever forgive him. Did she care for him at all?
~~~
“Are we far from the sea?” Agneta asked. “I’ve never seen the sea.”
Caedmon sniffed the air. “I can smell it.”
Lady Ascha smiled. “Reminds me of the smell of the Firth, back home.”
Lady Ascha’s mouth dropped open and a look of resignation passed between Caedmon and his mother.
“We might be well advised to head in that direction and avoid Lancaster,” he suggested.
They turned west after seeking directions from a villager and after about two hours, came to the sands of Heysham. They sat for a long while perched on their horses atop the cliffs overlooking the beaches, gazing out to sea.
Agneta found it soothing to watch the waves curl and break on the beach. She tightened her arms around Caedmon’s waist, using him as a shield against the wind. “Can we go down there?”
“We’ll stay with the mounts, Caedmon. I’ve no wish to get sand in my boots,” Lady Ascha said.
Caedmon, Agneta and Leofric set off to look for a path, but Leofric stopped and came back to the group. “May I ask Lady Coventina to join us?” he asked her mother.
Coventina’s eyes lit up. “Please, mother,” Coventina begged.
“Very well, since Sir Caedmon and Lady Agneta are accompanying you.”
Leofric assisted Coventina to dismount, and the four of them hurried off to find the way down. Once at the beach they took off their boots and prepared to walk along the wet brown sands, rippled into ridges by the tide. Coventina offered to assist Leofric with his boots.
“Don’t worry, Coventina, I’ll do it,” Caedmon offered, and Agneta admired her husband for trying to spare Leofric’s feelings.
“I can manage it myself,” Leofric objected, but she could see he was grateful for Caedmon’s offer of help.
“The sand feels strange,” Agneta murmured. “It sticks to my feet.”
Caedmon took her hand and the four walked briskly. The wind whipped the wimples off the women’s heads. Coventina gasped and looked worriedly at Agneta, then struggled to adjust the flapping wimple back around her hair. Suddenly Leofric took her hand. The girl glanced up at the cliffs then smiled at Leofric and the two kept walking.
“He’ll have to marry her now,” Caedmon whispered in his wife’s ear with a grin.”Not only has he seen her hair, he’s holding her hand.”
Agneta pulled Caedmon to a halt. “Does she know? About Bolton?”
Caedmon looked down at the sand. “I’m not sure. But if not, please let him tell her.”
Agneta nodded. “I want to go in the water.”
She shivered in the winter breeze and Caedmon wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing the hand he held to his lips. “You taste salty. The water will be cold this time of year,” he warned.
She pouted. “But I want to at least put my toes in. We might never see the sea in Ruyton.”
He pulled her to the water. She squealed when the cold waves lapped her feet, and ran away from the incoming tide. Instantly she missed the warmth of Caedmon’s hand, the comfort of his arm around her.
“You’re a coward, wife,” he taunted, reaching down and playfully splashing water
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