The Price of Blood by Patricia Bracewell

Author:Patricia Bracewell
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2015-01-05T05:00:00+00:00

Redmere, Holderness

Shielded against the November chill by a heavy, woolen cloak, Elgiva picked her way along a muddy path that ran beside a trio of beehives. She had nearly completed her round of inspection—past the mews to the kitchens and brew house, behind the hall to the stables, down by the craft houses to the weaving sheds, through the orchard, and back to the women’s quarters.

It had taken most of the morning, but she did not begrudge the time it cost her. She would be imprisoned within doors soon enough when the winter set in, and then time would move slowly indeed. Her reeve regarded her intrusion into his territory as a slight to his abilities, but she never gave any heed to his injured glances. Besides, she enjoyed it when she caught the men watching her with moon eyes while their women—well, she didn’t care about their women.

She sniffed with pleasure at the sweet scent of malt and yeast that wafted toward her on a light breeze. Then the wind changed and brought with it the stench from the slaughter pens, where the butchering of the aged livestock was nearly finished. The smell made her gorge rise, and she hastened away from it, following the path through the apple orchard to the manor’s central yard and there she halted.

The garth was no longer hers. It had been usurped by a ship’s complement of Danes who were garbed in mail and armed with shields and blunted swords. Ten of them had paired off to hack at each other under the watchful eye of their war leader while their companions shouted encouragement or abuse.

The din they were making brought back evil memories. She had only ever heard the sound of real battle once, on a summer’s day in Exeter that had been filled with howls of rage and screams of terror—and with sights she would never be able to forget. It had seemed to her that the end of the world had come.

For some, it had.

And now similar battles were taking place somewhere far to the south, where the Danes must have begun their raiding in Wessex. She was grateful she wasn’t there to hear them or see them. Still, she wanted news.

She wanted to know where Cnut was, or if he was still alive. There were many ways that a warrior could meet death, even aside from battle: from poisoned water or bad meat, from the bloody flux or some wasting disease, from an insignificant wound that festered and turned lethal. Cnut may even have drowned before his ship met with the others at Sandwich, and she would never know.

She scowled at that thought. She was wed to the son of the Danish king, she held vast estates in Mercia, yet she must depend on men for nearly everything, including news of events going on in the world beyond her gates.

And how men liked to hoard such news! They kept it from their women, seeking to protect them from the horror of what was happening in the wider world.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.