Wulfrun

2. First Seed

      The women had finished plowing their strips. They plowed three times, and now it was time to sow. Women and children, as young as eight and as old as fifty, walked up and down the narrow strips, scattering seeds of barley.

One. Two. Three.

Each row she walked, Frideswide counted. She counted as she dropped the seeds, hoping each time that the crops would grow and flourish and provide enough sustenance for her family.

Four. Five. Six.

Ahead of her, Leofflaed walked. Her sister scattered her seeds dutifully with one hand, while the other hand waved around excitedly as she chattered away to her friends. Though she could not make out any words, Frideswide caught the familiar rise and fall of her sister's high, piercing voice among the voices of the girls, all of them maidens in the prime of life at sixteen summers. Frideswide guessed the girls were comparing and debating who of their young admirers was the handsomest...the strongest...the bravest....

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Sounds of shouts and laughter rolled across the fields in the breeze. The men, robust and spirited, labored away on Lord Cenric's crops, their obligation to their lord. Each woman took care of her family's own little strips of land lent to them for use by Cenric.

Ten. Eleven. Twel -

      Sunngifu's biting voice interrupted her thoughts.

      "We haven't seen much of you all winter, Frideswide," the older woman said. "I see your cow is still alive."

      Frideswide stared at the soil, not meeting Sunngifu's pale, narrowed eyes. "Ay, Goodwife," she responded softly. "By the grace of God."

      "God, is it?" Sunngifu paused in her work, placing one weathered hand on her bony hip. "It wouldn't perhaps be someone else, would it?"

     A snort of derisive laughter erupted from the young girl on the other side of Frideswide.

      "Fride is a healer, not a witch, Goodwife," said Mildred.

      Sunngifu raised her eyebrows. "Healer she may be, but it can't have escaped your notice that no harm seems to befall our sainted Fride, nor her grandmother - even as it befalls the rest of us in droves!"

      Mildred shook her head. "You call Goodwife Godgifu's suffering and ill health an escape from harm?"

      Sunngifu opened her mouth to speak, but Mildred spoke again before she could. "Besides, Goodwife, I did not hear your complaints when Godgifu delivered you of that dead child that near killed you five summers ago."

      Sunngifu huffed. "Well, tell me why the bairn was born dead in the first place! I have my doubts -"

     "Oh, come now," Frideswide broke in. "Let's cease all this arguing, shall we?"

     "You only want the end of it because you know I'm right about you and your witch grandmother!" spat Sunngifu.

      "No," Mildred fixed Sunngifu with a deathly glare. "She doesn't want us to argue because she's Fride."

      Ahead of them, a chorus of squeals and laughter burst from the group of maidens slowly picking their way through the field. Leofflaed was at the forefront, skipping lightly over the fresh earth, her hands outstretched with an imaginary partner. Her young body pranced about gracefully, precisely...and, Frideswide noticed with a hint of alarm...alluringly.

      The clanging and tinkles of sheep's bells could be heard in the distance, no doubt inspiring Leofflaed's dance. The flock appeared over the hill, its shepherd and his dog behind it.