Protector of Mercia (The Eagle of Mercia Chronicles) by MJ Porter

Author:MJ Porter [Porter, MJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2023-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

The closer we get to Tamworth, having turned eastwards when we crossed the River Severn once more at Wroxeter, the faster Brute goes, and yet my fear only intensifies. I need to find Eadweard, Wulfred and their allies, alongside my weapons, but what exactly can I do? If I rush into Tamworth demanding to see the queen, Lord Wigmund and Lady Ælflæd with wild theories about the children and sister of Lord Coenwulf, I imagine even the king will dismiss me.

No, I need to be more subtle than that, but I’m not sure how. And then, as the following day draws to an end, the lights of Tamworth appear before me, having bypassed Lichfield along the way. I could have stayed there for the night and arrived fresh and perhaps even washed. I’ve changed my clothes from those I wore when forced to piss myself, but I have no others that are clean. I wrinkle my nose. I whiff of horse, sweat and the undergrowth where I was kept tied to the tree. Not even the barrel of cold water that the Wolf Lady allowed me to use could disperse the smell.

But the darkness gives me the cover I need. I won’t exactly sneak into Tamworth, but at least few will see me.

I dismount and lead Brute along the walkway that allows entrance inside the settlement’s walls. I find a smile on my face as I greet the king’s warriors on guard duty. Not that they do much else but acknowledge me with the weary gaze of men who must stand guard duty throughout the long night. It’s clear they recognise me, and just before the gates are closed for the night, I slip inside the too-familiar place, exchanging soft words with them, but not more than that. They don’t know I shouldn’t be here, that I should be tied to a tree. Neither do I ask after those I seek.

Hastily, I take Brute to the stable and leave him there, content with a bag of oats and a bucket of water, while the remainder of the king’s horses sleep in their stables. Brute deserves some rest. I run my eyes over the other animals in the gloom, and content I don’t recognise Wulfheard’s mount, I leave once more. Wherever my fellow warriors are, they’re not within Tamworth.

Cuthred hasn’t seen me, for which I’m grateful. But now comes the more difficult part. I need to get to Wynflæd, make good on my accusations to her, and find out what she knows about what was planned for the children and sister of Lord Coenwulf.

I hear raucous cries from the king’s hall and consider what feast is being celebrated. A firepit assures me that some huge animal has been roasted for the occasion. I lick my lips. Eating would be good, but I have other, more pressing concerns. I realise why the guard men were so unimpressed with their duty. No doubt, they’ve missed out on free-flowing ale and meat.

I decide against

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