Silence Deep as the Snow » Sihtric || The Last Kingdom

Clover Honey

The Christian priest at the hillfort in Ceredigion kept bees. The hives were by the pasture leading to the sea where clusters of clover flourished. Their honey was pale colored and floral scented. Mother would infuse jars of it with fresh mint, rose petals, or thyme. We used it not only in food, but when we made tinctures or medicines. 

I woke the next morning in one of the beds at the inn. Fully dressed, my head ached with exhaustion and ale. I had no idea who had carried me upstairs, it could have been any one of my  strange travelling group. My vision cleared as I blinked in the watery morning light. The storm had passed, but the rain had not. It gently pattered against the leaves of the tree outside my open window.

A plate and a steaming cup sat on the little table beside my bed. A slice of peasant bread and mint tea waited for me. But the horse bread, baked with pea shells and oats, was smothered in clover honey. A dollop had been put in the tea as well. Something about the familiar taste of home brought tears to my eyes. It wasn't like the evening earlier, those sobs were vicious and painful. This was a quiet moment, healing as the honey that I consumed, with the rain as a baptism. 

The ache in my head and joints dulled as I did my best to untangle my hair. With the dark strands, in desperate need of a wash, successfully tucked into a braid, I turned to the door. Sihtric's cloak was laid out on a nearby chair. I shuddered a little at the sight of it. Even though he gave it as a kind gesture, the Dane still scared me. 

The memory of how he'd grabbed me then pulled me tight to his chest, his hand clamped over my mouth, surged through my thoughts. Tola and Ivar were Danes too, but they were somehow different. Despite my aversion, I snatched the cloak and tried not to think about it as I descended the stairs.   

I was shocked to find the innkeeper's daughter at the hearth, her brand new babe strapped to her breast. At the hillfort, my mother always insisted that new mother spend at least four days in bed. Work was distributed to the others in the house so that baby and mother could bond. But I was not in a castle anymore, this was poor roadside inn where work had to continue.

Her face was rosy with heat from the fire and her eyes were weary, but alight with contentment. The babe had taken quickly to suckling after birth. He was healthy and big. There would be no further trouble with the two of them.

"But oh, your fine skirts," the woman said, her expression wilting a little. "I never thought that a fine lady would help me have my baby boy. And now I've ruined your dress."

The dress I wore was not one of my finest, but the fabric had been rich in make. It was now blood stained. But the jewels that I carried in my under skirt were still intact as well as the royal seal. 

I shrugged. "It was bound to be ruined on the road eventually. I am only grateful to see you and your child are well. Thank you for the breakfast this morning. Your honey is excellent."

The innkeeper's daughter gave a sad smile. "It's from my late husband's hives. He would have wanted you to have it. Your companions are..."

She motioned around the room. Ivar and Osferth were still passed out at their tables. Finan was in a corner on a chair propped against the wall, his mouth ajar and snoring softly. 

"The lady warrior and her... companion, they took a room upstairs. Her man was the one who carried you up the stairs last night," the woman explained.

I noted that Sihtric was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if he had ever made it back inside from the barn. But I wasn't about to ask.

"Thank you for your hospitality," I said, running a finger over the baby's soft cheek. "My name is Gytha."

It hurt to use the name, but I knew why. Especially since news of a great lady helping a innkeeper's daughter give birth could travel faster than lightening. 

"I am Agatha and this here is Alwyne, named entirely for his father. God rest him," she said, kissing the baby on his head. "Here. I want you to have these."

She walked over to a nearby basket and pulled out two small clay pots. I opened them to find the clover honey. This could be easily be sold. It felt wrong to take them without payment. But when I tried to argue with Agatha, she refused. Her father insisted as well when he came back inside.

The innkeeper shook the rain from his grey curls. "Your man, the Dane, he has your horses all ready. He'll be in shortly to wake your companions if they do not get themselves up first."

"I'll get Tola and Turgan," I said, wishing to avoid Sihtric if he came back inside.

"They are in the last room on the left," Agatha directed me.

As I neared Tola and Turgan's door upstairs, I heard stifled giggling and a few other sounds that made my face warm. Unwilling to interrupt their love making, I ducked back into my room and made the bed for Agatha. Smoothing out the scratchy wool blanket, I sat down on the edge of the creaking bed frame and looked around at the cracked walls. I pulled up my skirts and felt along the hem where the jewels were hidden. 

The seam ripped easily. I dropped the pearls, the diamonds, and other precious stones into the palm of my hand. A topaz and an emerald from my mother's crown would do. I left those two on the pillow and tucked the rest inside the bodice of my dress. Rain still pounded outside my window. 

I peered down into the grey courtyard, puddles of dark mud gathering around a stone well. The stable doors opened and Sihtric the Dane appeared, leading two of our horses to water. I paused a step back from the splintered sill. He smoothed a thick hand over the snout of his mare and spoke something to it. The animal nudged his shoulder, ushering a quiet smile from the tattooed warrior. 

His scowl, the harsh line of his dark brow, softened. He almost looked approachable. Kind, even. Despite myself, I smiled as well at the sight and inched closer to the window. Sihtric's dark eyes darted up to my window as though he sensed my presence. I held my breath, meeting his gaze. Before he could acknowledge me, I strode towards Tola's room and banged on the door. 

I couldn't forget how Sihtric's frown had returned as soon as he had seen me in the window. I didn't meet his eyes even as I wordlessly returned his cloak to him before we mounted our steeds and rode out once more.