Son of Mercia by MJ Porter

Author:MJ Porter [Porter, MJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

The following day, I wake, unsure what to do with myself. There’s no sign of my uncle, while Edwin is busy filling his belly with a steaming bowl of sweetened pottage. Already, he’s made an ally of another lad, about our age, and they chat together. I catch the tail end of their words and realise Edwin is bragging about the man he killed on the hillside, while the other lad watches him, eyes wide with horrified delight.

I stagger outside. It’s still dismal, but the rain has stopped. Not that it makes it easy to see. A fug of smoke continues to obscure the settlement. I turn to where the stables are, thinking to check on Wine, only to spy my uncle scurrying away from the buildings.

Ignoring my hunger, I follow him. There’s more mystery here, and I don’t understand it. None of it. But perhaps I can find some truths if I just follow him.

A few others rush about their tasks, but mostly, I hear voices from beneath the roofs of the buildings. There are more of them than I realised last night.

I keep my head down, focused on avoiding the worst of the puddles; some of them would reach my ankles, not just my toes.

When I do look up, I startle and stop. Before me, a church has appeared, the carved cross over the door indicating what it is. I watch as my uncle enters through the small wooden door. I don’t know what to do now. If I follow Cenfrith, he’ll see me. But my curiosity wars inside me. I hesitate, and as I do so, another person appears.

She looks up from beneath her cloak, a bemused expression on her delicate face.

‘Who are you?’ she asks, standing directly in front of me. I’m surprised she’s forced to look upwards to meet my eyes momentarily forgetting how much I had grown.

‘I’m Icel. I arrived last night.’

She still looks on me through slit eyes, biting her lip. And then recognition flashes.

‘Ah, you came with Lord Cenfrith.’

‘I did, yes.’ There’s no point denying it.

‘I’m surprised my brother made him welcome, but then, he has a gentle heart, for all he’s angry much of the time.’

‘You’re Lord Coenwulf’s sister?’

‘Yes, I am. I’m Ælflæd.’

I don’t know how to respond to that. She speaks with confidence, and yet I’m standing here with soggy boots.

‘Were you going into the church? I think the monks are in there at the moment. But I’m sure you can listen to their service.’

‘Um,’ I feel flustered, not wanting to admit that I was sneaking after my uncle.

‘Or were you going somewhere else?’

My mouth opens and then closes. I have no idea what to say.

She watches me, a smile on her lips, wavering as I stay mute. My saviour comes from an unlikely source.

‘Ælflæd, your brother wants you.’ It’s Oswald who calls across the saturated ground. The noise startles me, and Ælflæd pretends not to notice.

‘Bye,’ she calls, picking up her skirts to run towards the hall.

I shudder at

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