my child cry strongly before your herbs rendered me unconscious. Give me my child!”
“Give her the child, Antonia.” Anthony Porcius came forward. He had aged greatly in the last few years. His step was slow and his hair was snow-white, but it was his sad eyes that touched Cailin. Reaching out, he took her hand in his. “She told me that you had died, and that Wulf would not take the child,” he said. “She claimed to be raising her out of the goodness of her heart, but there is, I now see, no goodness in my daughter’s heart. It is black with bitterness and hatred. The child has your husband’s coloring, but in features she is your image. Each day she grows more so, and of late Antonia has begun to hate her for it.”
“Her?” Cailin whispered softly, and then suddenly she cried out to her husband, “That is what she said, Wulf! I remember it now. The last thing I heard before I fell unconscious on that day our child was born was Antonia’s voice saying, ‘I always wanted a daughter.’ We have a daughter. Give her to me, you viper. Give me my daughter!”
Ragnar Strongspear’s first wife, Harimann, came forward leading a small girl by the hand. “This is your daughter, lady. She is called Aurora. She is a good child, though the lady Antonia beats her.”
Cailin knelt and took the little girl into her arms. She was several months from her third birthday, but she was a tall child. Her tunic dress was ragged, and her blond hair lank. There was a frightened look in her eyes, and upon her cheek was a purple bruise. Cailin looked up at Antonia and said quietly, “You will pay dearly for that, lady.” Then she hugged the trembling child, setting her back down finally so they might look at one another. “I am your mother, Aurora. I have come to take you away from the lady Antonia, who stole you from me. Do not be afraid.”
The child said nothing. She just stared at Cailin with large eyes.
“Why does she not speak?” Cailin demanded.
“She does sometimes,” Harimann said, “but she is always afraid, poor child. We tried to soften the lady Antonia’s unreasonable anger toward Aurora, but it only made it worse. She is half starved, though we had sought to feed her when the lady Antonia was not about. Antonia’s son, however, follows his mother’s direction, and would tell on us. Then Aurora would be beaten. Finally she would take no food from us for fear of being punished. The boy is abusive to her as well.”
“Quintus, the younger, is as much of a toad as his father, I see,” Cailin said scornfully. “You have reason to be proud, Antonia.” She turned to the elderly Anthony Porcius. “Could you do nothing, sir?”
“I tried,” he said, “but I am an old man, Cailin Drusus, and my place in this hall depends upon my daughter’s goodwill.”
“Tell Ragnar Strongspear the land is mine,” she said to him.
“I can do that, Cailin Drusus,” he replied, and then he turned to his Saxon son-in-law. “The lands she claims are her family’s lands and belong to her. Antonia had no right to them at all. She claimed to me that she was holding them for Aurora, but I know that is not true.”
Ragnar Strongspear nodded. “Then it is settled,” he said.
“It is settled,” Wulf Ironfist answered him. Reaching down, he lifted the little girl into his arms. “I am your father, Aurora,” he told the child. “Can you say ‘Father’ to me, little one?”
She nodded, her eyes huge and blue.
He grinned. “I would hear it then, my daughter.” He cocked his head to one side, as if listening hard.
“Father,” the little girl whispered shyly.
He kissed her cheek. “Aye, sweeting, I am your father, and I will never allow you to be harmed by anyone again.” He turned to Cailin and their two companions. “Let us go home now.”
“You will not stay the night? I have some fine mead,” Ragnar Strongspear said jovially. “And there is a boar roasting on the hearth.”
“Thank you, but no,” Wulf Ironfist replied. “The last time I left my hall, some damned savage came through and burned it. I will not take any further chances, Ragnar Strongspear.”
“There is the matter of our slaves,” Cailin prompted her husband.
“I do not know about that,” the burly Saxon answered.
“I can separate the Drusus Corinium servants from Antonia’s,” the elderly Porcius said.
“Then do so, old