Lost Tales of Mercia by Jayden Woods

Author:Jayden Woods [Jayden Woods]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Romance, Historical, Short Stories
Publisher: Feedbooks
Published: 2012-01-22T16:00:00+00:00

**

“Then came King Ethelred home, in Lent, to his own people; and he was gladly received by them all. Meanwhile, after the death of Sweyne, sat Knute with his army in Gainsborough until Easter … ”

—The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, Entry for Year 1014

*

GAINSBOROUGH

Spring, 1014 A.D.

Alfgifu of Northampton did not want to admit that she was nervous, but when she saw the Viking encampment looming ahead, her fear burned in her stomach until she could not ignore it. She forced herself to think the same thought over, and over, and over again: Canute lost his father, too. Canute lost his father, too.

This single thought struggled to stay afloat as the approaching camp drowned her with physical sensations. The lines of brightly painted shields along the burg walls seared her eyes. Meat-scented smoke burned her nostrils. The clashing of playful weapons rang in her ears. These sensations pulled her too deeply into a reality that made her doubt the strength of her purpose.

But Canute lost his father, too.

A growl rumbled from her throat, and her thin legs clutched tightly around her horse, making it lunge forward. When she thought about it too much, she wondered if this single fact had truly been reason enough to travel almost one hundred miles and introduce herself to the new King of the Vikings. She had so many hopes for what to accomplish here, but as far as true justifications went—or reasons to believe she might actually succeed—they all boiled down to a mere gut instinct, and the one thought that seemed to accompany it.

Yes, Canute had just lost his father. She had lost her father many years ago, and it had changed her life irrevocably. This would bind her to Canute, she thought, and form a permanent connection. She would be able to help him in a moment of weakness; she would be able to understand what he was going through better than most. She would be able to gain his trust.

And once she gained his trust, she would be able to turn him against Eadric Streona.

*

“What do you mean, he is busy?”

“He’s busy,” repeated the thick-skulled housecarl, gulping from a horn of mead.

“This is unacceptable,” hissed Alfgifu. “I have brought him two hundred pounds. I have brought him horses, and cloaks, and fine blades, and—”

“These are very good gifts, my lady.” The warrior nodded approvingly while running his calloused finger over one of the blades in discussion. “I think he will actually like them, more than most of the gifts he has received. But … Canute is busy.”

“He cannot be too busy to see me.” She straightened as tall as she could, her chest swelling, her chin thrusting high. But this movement felt like a mistake once the housecarl’s eyes began roving her body. He did not seem pleased by what he saw, and this only made her tremble with more fury. People had always told her she possessed a “boyish” figure. She was skinny, her chest flat, her limbs lanky, and on top of all that her face was very square.

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