Marry in haste...

I have to get back to my own country. Home, where the sun shines and warms my skin, the waters sparkle, and the colours are vivid. Away from this grey, drab place, where cruelty abounds and there is no sense of beauty. My husband says that, I can go, but our sons must stay. My beautiful twin boys, born only three weeks ago. Leave them alone here, to be raised by some course wet nurse – never!

I have a plan to escape and take my babies with me. It needs to be done soon, whilst the boys remain small enough to be easily hidden and carried, and their new born cries could be mistaken for a cat mewing, or a gull calling overhead. There is no-one who I can trust here. The whey faced women look at me with their pale goat like eyes, regarding me with suspicion. We do not speak the same language, but I am clever, and I have learnt some of their words. And I have jewellery. I have secreted many small pieces away in a drawstring bag, which can be fastened to my belt. I will use a stole to form a papoose, tying the twins to my chest, each against a separate breast. Then, I will cover us in a hooded cape. It must have a hood, so that, I can conceal my identity. I have taken one from the servants’ quarters, it is voluminous, big enough to envelope us. But when? Soon, it must be soon!

I cannot believe that, I have been such a fool, so readily taken in by a handsome face and promises of romance. Oh yes, he swept me off my feet, he and his companions with their tanned bearded faces, and laughing camaraderie. Months at sea had disguised their pasty complexions, and forged close bonds between them. They came in search of a wife for their leader, this prince. Our countries had long traded together, us selling our spices and fine silks, them their rare herbs and sturdy horses. I now understand why they came to us: their king had sired only one son, and he himself was an only child. Whereas, my father had many brothers, and fathered fifteen children. The king’s courtiers were fearful that, his line would die out, and the country, savage as it is, would be thrown into civil war. And so, they had sought a princess from a family with many progenies. They found us, and the prince had seven of us to choose from. I will be honest, I was flattered to be chosen above my six sisters. I was swept away by his generous gifts, and the smouldering looks of desire, which came my way.

My father tried to warn me. He told me that, if I married this man, it would be unlikely that, I would ever be able to return to my country, or see my family again. I was adamant, I loved this prince, and so after a few weeks, I eagerly boarded his wooden ship, to sail away across the oceans to a strange land. Willingly, I left my glittering white marble palace with its sparkling fountains, colourful murals upon its walls, and succulent plants in every room. Voluntarily, I abandoned my laughing, affectionate siblings and their sun kissed offspring. Readily, the beautiful golden landscapes, the streets with their smells of incense and fresh baked goods, and warm, glittering lakes were forsaken.

At first, the sea voyage was an adventure. Previously, I had been out on the ocean’s restless waves, in a vessel with my brothers, but only for a few hours. It did not compare to this, the excitement of sleeping in a small bunk within the confines of a cabin. Knowing that I would not see dry land for many weeks, and being in close proximity to this man, who was to be my husband. I was besotted by him: the way he threw back his head when he laughed, the curling hair, which I could glimpse from the opening of his shirt and the intensity of his eyes when we glanced at each other. I was the only woman on board, and there was only the interpreter who could speak my language. The crew were always busy, but the prince and his aides passed their time by playing cards and various deck games. I watched, and at times, they would good humouredly allow me to join in, my efforts causing them much amusement. Or, I would walk around the decks, watching the ever changing pattern of the sea. There was one violent storm, but rather than be frightened, I found the unpredictable, sudden tossing of the ship, the brilliant flashes and loud booming exhilarating. I stood on deck, gripping a rail to remain upright, watching the mountainous waves, and the sailors’ frantic activity, until I was instructed to go below decks for my own safety.  

Eventually, we arrived at my fiancé’s shores. I disembarked and was instructed to sit in a horse drawn carriage, with the interpreter beside me. I had never seen, let alone been in such a contraption before. It resembled a large wooden box with windows. At home, I would have ridden bare back upon a great stallion, or sat in an open chariot, richly painted and decorated with gold leaf. We rode along in a procession, first uniformed men marching on foot, blowing trumpets as they went. Then more uniformed men on horses, tightly packed around my future husband and his aides, who also rode. Finally, my carriage, which was also surrounded by mounted guards. The road was lined with people who clapped and cheered as they heard the approaching trumpets. The interpreter directed me to look out of the carriage’s window, smile and wave at the roadside audience. I did this and in return, the people threw flowers in my direction.

Shortly, we approached a city, again, it was like nothing which I was familiar with. The first thing that, I became aware of was the stench. It was a smell of rotting fish and effluent. Ramshackle buildings huddled together without rhyme or reason. Our cavalcade made its way through narrow winding streets, so narrow in places that, if I had reached out from the carriage window, I could have touched the rickety dwellings. We travelled uphill, until we reached the summit, and the road opened out into a cobbled square, in the centre of which stood a large grey building, adorned with flags fluttering from its towering turrets. This, apparently, was my prince’s castle. We rode on through an arched entrance, and into a yard, where many people were assembled awaiting our arrival. At the crowd’s centre stood a stout man, crowned and richly dressed. This was the king, my future father-in-law, and my interpreter told me that, I must curtsey to him. In my country, commoners will bow to royalty, but we do not do so to our equals, and ‘curtsey’, I had never heard of such a thing. Seeing my confusion, the interpreter endeavoured to give a rapid demonstration within the confines of the carriage. The door was opened, and a guard held my hand and helped me alight. The king approached, smiling broadly, took my hand and put it to his lips and I enacted an approximation of a curtsey. That was it, no throngs of relatives, hugging me and welcoming me to the family, no lively chatter or joyful laughter. Instead, the gathering silently looked at me with curiosity, and when the king turned to re-enter the palace. They did so too, following him, the only sound being the rustling of their clothing.

That night there was a great banquet. The king’s table was set at right angles to the others, raised upon a platform. He sat upon an ornate throne in the centre, his son on one side of him, me on the other. We were served mountains of food. These people eat dead animals. There was none of the dainty sweetmeats, exotic fruit or fragrant tureens, which I am accustomed to. Instead, there were great platters of cooked meat, and stodgy bread. Great mounds of the food were consumed. Even the women held joints in their hands, gnawing the meat directly from the bone. It is no surprise to me that, they are shaped like unproved cottage loaves. My countrymen are sleek and svelte. Their goblets were filled by servants from large jugs. I do not know what they drank. When I asked the interpreter for water, he looked at me askance. Whatever was in the food or drink, it had an unseemly effect on the company. They became raucous, and unsteady on their feet. Some were so affected that they vomited, or fell asleep where they sat. After many hours, I was led to my chamber, by a woman who, it was explained to me would be my ‘lady in waiting’.

My bed was a great wooden construction, surrounded by heavy hanging curtains. At home, on a warm night, I would sleep in the open, upon a palace roof, surrounded by the inky blue sky and twinkling stars. The maid appears to expect to sleep in my room, but I usher her out. She sulkily leaves, giving me an impertinent, hateful stare. In retrospect, I realise that my insistence to sleep alone was a wise choice. Otherwise, my plan to escape would be impossible.

Within days the prince and I married. With the benefit of hindsight, I wonder if my husband suspected that, I would dislike his odious country. Or perhaps, it was ardour, which made him want to rush our nuptials. The ceremony was a lavish affair with many guests and much of their beloved trumpet blowing. It is the strangest thing, in my country; we worship the gods of nature, the wonders of the seasons and the miracles of fertility. Here, they pray to an unseen god, who upon death, they believe will elevate them to a beautiful invisible place, if they have led a good life, or banish them to a place of fire and torture, if they have been sinful. After, there was another of their wretched celebration feasts. My new husband became so unwell that, he needed escorting to bed by his courtiers. I retired alone to my own bedchamber, followed by my now smirking lady in waiting. 

The next morning, once I was dressed and supped, the interpreter arrived and explained that, in honour of our marriage there was to be entertainment. We travelled a short distance from the castle. There, in the open, was a great crowd, sat on wooden tiers, surrounding an oval area of grassland. The king sat under a colourful canopy, and his son and I sat together on thrones a little beneath him. We were afforded a full view of the arena below us. Initially, there was jousting, and I was concerned for the welfare of the horses. But these great beasts appeared to be in far less danger than their riders, who chose to put themselves in jeopardy. Next a great brown bear was dragged into the space, by two men pulling chains, which were fastened to its neck. Stakes were driven into the ground, and the chains fastened to them. Finally, a pack of savage dogs were unleashed upon the poor beast, tormenting and biting it, as it lashed at them with its huge paws. I was moved to tears, and rose to leave. The interpreter remonstrated with me, saying that I was being disrespectful to the king. I retorted that, I cared not, and would not watch such savagery. The interpreter later told me that, he had explained away my behaviour as being due to exhaustion from yesterday’s wedding ceremony, and I needed to rest in preparation for the coming night’s nuptials.

That night, as I prepared to retire, the interpreter knocked and summoned me to the prince’s bedchamber. There he lay, in a bed even greater than my own, surrounded by his noblemen, who were standing around his room. I stood in the doorway, unsure what to do, until he beckoned me in. I advanced towards him, and still his comrades remained. I stopped, shook my head, and flapped my arms towards them, indicating that they must leave. Without this, I believe that they would have remained. As it was, as soon as the act was finished, the prince called to them, and they returned, pulled the bed sheet from beneath us, and whooped in triumph when they saw the blood of my destroyed virginity. I was embarrassed and humiliated. My husband was unconcerned, he rolled over and immediately went to sleep. This night and our ensuing unisons were a great disappointment to me. All young people in my country are educated in the art of love making, but the prince appeared to lack such education. On later occasions, when I attempted to demonstrate some of my learning, he was horrified, pushing me away and calling me something, which I assume was a profanity.

It was late summer when I arrived here. The weather was pleasant and sunny, if a little cool. As the days turned to autumn and then winter commenced, the full horror of the climate became apparent. The days became short with little daylight, the air cold, nipping at my fingers even within the palace. Outside, it rained and drizzled, making the inside walls damp. Huge fires were lit in the hearths, but if I sat near, I became too warm, feeling as though my skin was beginning to dry and crack: but if I moved away, I was instantly cold. I felt as though the pervasive cold and moisture was seeping into my very bones. I followed the locals’ example and added more layers of clothes to my ensembles, drawing the line at their practice of wearing animal fur. Wearing dead animals, what an abhorrent practice! As the weather deteriorated, so did my mood. I realised that I did not love my husband, hated his country, was desperately lonely and missed my family. I went to the prince with the interpreter, and explained how isolated I felt, and asked to go home. The prince appeared sympathetic, holding my hand and saying that, winter was always unpleasant here, but spring would follow, full of beauty and hope. He begged me to be patient and wait.

I relented, and shortly after realised that I was with child. The prince called me to him, and said that, for the good of my unborn baby I must stay, and that once I had a family of my own to care for, I would feel happier and settle. It soon became obvious that any form of travel was out of the question for me. Within weeks my stomach had swollen to a great taut dome. My pregnancy advanced quicker than any I had seen in other women. At first, my layers of clothes concealed my condition, but soon my ever expanding abdomen began to be evident even through these. The castle women tried to encourage me to keep to my rooms and stay hidden. I was not to be so confined, and insisted on moving around the palace and its grounds, and joining the household at mealtimes. Where I come from pregnancy is a revered state, a condition to be remarked upon and celebrated, not clandestine and hidden.

The time of my confinement came earlier than I expected. I was relieved to feel the first twinges of labour. My belly had become so large that, it felt as though there was no room left in my chest for me to breath. My breasts were enlarged and tender. Every movement had become an effort, my joints ached with the exertion of carrying this baby. The pains came swiftly, rapidly increasing with intensity. I paced my chamber, despite entreaties from my ladies in waiting to lie down. I stood gripping the bed posts and gritting my teeth when the pains became unbearable, and finally squatted, screamed and pushed when the urge came upon me. My first son slithered out of me, into the cupped hands of one of the women. Much to everyone’s surprise, I remained standing, continued to grunt and push, until two minutes later a second son emerged. The babies were small but healthy, evidenced by their cries and ability to suckle. When their father visited, he was pleased and proud. He kissed me soundly on the lips, saying that I was his ‘beautiful, clever wife.’    

Rather than settle me, the birth of my sons had the opposite effect, it strengthened my resolve to leave. I have decided that I will leave tonight. Everyone has retired, I have fed my babies and tied them to me. Wrapping us in the cloak, I stealthily leave my chamber, creep along the castle’s corridors, sneak out of a side exit, across the yard and through a heavy wooden back gate. I am fortunate, there is a full moon and it is a clear, cloudless night. Rapidly, I descend the city streets, until the road leads me to open country. I flee as quickly as I can. The night is short, and soon dawn begins to break. As the sky begins to lighten, traffic starts along the road. A carter stops, speaks to me, and I understand the word ‘where’. I reply ‘sea’.  I am making for the port, where I hope to find a merchant ship from my country to take us home.

Fate is on my side, as the cart rumbles towards the busy harbour, I hear men shouting in my language. I quickly scramble down, as I do so, pressing a ring into the surprised carter’s hand. The ship is definitely from my land. I speak to the sailors, and they give me permission to board, where I explain my plight to the captain. He agrees to give me passage home. Home! Finally, I am nearly there.