Return of the Exiles by Anna Markland

Author:Anna Markland [Markland, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anna Markland

“Caedmon, forgive me.”

He took his mother’s hands and pulled her back to her feet.

“There’s nothing to forgive, mother. Come, sit with me.”

Ascha sat in the chair by the hearth, facing her son. “But I lied to you. It was my wantonness and lies that almost destroyed you.”

He leaned forward and took her hand. “I understand why you did what you did. My father told me what happened after Hastings, what it was like—for both of you. I humbly beg your forgiveness for the way I treated you.”

She looked away. “I deserved it. I was weak.”

He squeezed her hand. “Look at me.”

Ascha lifted her eyes.

“You’ve never been weak. Your courage has made me the person I am.”

She choked back a sob.

“What was your husband like?”

Ascha’s eyes widened with surprise. “He was a brute,” she whispered.

“He beat you?”

She shifted uncomfortably and looked away again. “Sometimes, when he was angry. He was a difficult man to please. I found it hard. My father was a warrior, but he was never a violent man. I wasn’t used to it.”

Caedmon rose, drew his mother up from her chair, put his arms around her trembling shoulders and embraced her. He suspected her husband had not cared much about pleasing her either and his heart ached for her. He understood why his mother had lain with Ram de Montbryce.

“Don’t cry. I should have known brutality is not solely the purview of Normans. I’m glad I’m not the son of such a man. Better he died at Hastings.”

Ascha nodded. “You’re a son to be proud of. I’ve never regretted your birth for one moment.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and held her away from him, smiling. “And you’ve no doubt taken secret pleasure from my middle name.”

She too smiled and blushed. “It was wicked of me. I wanted some small part of you to bear a trace of your real father.”

“It means more to me now. There’s something else you probably aren’t aware of. The thirteenth day of November is Saint Brice’s Day.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s the day the Battle of Alnwick took place.”

“Oh, Caedmon.”

He sensed his mother still loved Ram de Montbryce, and he grieved for her that it was a hopeless love. He silently thanked the saints he was a man whose deep love for his wife was returned in full measure.

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