The Shieldmaiden's Pride: The Song of Madron Book 1 (The Song of Britain 8) by The Song of Madron 01-The Shieldmaiden's Pride (epub)

Author:The Song of Madron 01-The Shieldmaiden's Pride (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

THE LAY OF THIUDRIK

W e reach the hill fort well into the night. The Saxon guards refuse to let us in at first, not recognising any of us in the darkness. It’s a nervous couple of minutes as we wait for one of them to go into the Iute camp to find anyone who would vouch for me. Any moment now I expect the Comes’s soldiers to catch up to us. I don’t know if we’re being pursued – I can’t even know if anyone at the Praetorium connected us with the murder in the bath. Judging by what Thiudrik told us, Gratian’s predilections were well known to many of the gathered nobles, and few would have been surprised at one of his victims finally taking her vengeance.

The guard returns with Breccan, groggily rubbing his eyes. His breath smells of heady mead. He sobers up in an instant when he sees my state. I quiet him down before he can cry out my real name in distress.

“Get Anlaf,” I tell him. “Pack your things and ready your mounts, we’re leaving.”

“Right now? At night? Don’t you need your wounds taken care of first?”

“It’s all just bruises and scratches. I’ll be fine, I just need to put on some normal clothes.”

Antonia helps me to the tent and, while I discard the tattered robe and put on my trusted drab breeches and tunic, prepares an ointment for the cuts.

“Aren’t you keeping the fur?” she asks, disappointed, when I throw the wolf cloak to the floor. “It looks expensive.”

“You can keep it,” I say, and hiss as she presses the ointment to the graze on my forearm. “Just make sure to wash the monster’s blood off it.”

“I’m ready,” she announces a few minutes later, having packed all her belongings into a travel sack – including the fur cloak. She looks around the tent. “Shouldn’t we take this with us, too?”

“We can go back to sleeping in taverns from now on,” I say to her visible relief. “Go to the carriage and tell the others to wait. I’ll be right over.”

“And where are you going now?”

“There’s one last thing I have to do.”

It takes me a while to find Goldfinch’s tent, and then another to shake her awake.

“What – what is it…? Are we under attack?” She opens her eyes wide. “Myrtle? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the feast in Wenta?”

She notices the bruises and the wrappings, and grins. “Did you get into a fight with the wealas ? You look like you’ve been through Hel.”

“You should see the other one,” I reply with a smile. “Goldfinch, I… I’m sorry I won’t be at your victory celebrations tomorrow,” I say. “I’m sure it would have been more fun than the wealh feast.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving. I doubt you’ll ever see me again.”

She furrows her brow, still chasing sleep out of her mind. “What did you do at that feast, Myrtle?”

“It’s not just that. I – I can’t explain.” I take her hand and put Gratian’s rings into her palm.

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