Warrior and Protector by Peter Gibbons

Author:Peter Gibbons [Gibbons, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

15

The Thegn bled out, coughing and spluttering in the village ruins. Alfgar knelt with him, holding his hand clasped between his own, Alfgar’s pale skin in contrast to the dark, blood-encrusted Thegn’s hand. Alfgar prayed, and the Thegn stared deep into his eyes. He coughed and shuddered, and his eyes flickered wildly as he stared. His breath gave out in a wheeze, and his head slumped to one side. Alfgar sighed, made the sign of the cross above the dead man and kept hold of his hand, clenching it tighter now that the warrior was dead. The young Thegn would never see his children again, and that was a pain Beornoth was all too familiar with.

Beornoth envied him. The Thegn’s pain had been brief. It had burned bright and fierce and became extinguished as his lifeblood leaked into the dirt beneath him. There could be nothing worse than the pain suffered by a parent at the loss of a child. It was a hollowing, overwhelming suffocation of sadness and despair. Beornoth had lived with that feeling for years, and he had often wished that he too had died that day, on the day his own children had burned to death. He had even contemplated taking his own life many times. But Beornoth had instead opted to drink himself to death, and that sadly had not worked either. It had dulled his pain for a few hours at a time, but he was still alive. All he had left of his beautiful daughters were memories, and the locket of hair held at his chest. Beornoth sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He tried to recall the faces of his daughters, but the pictures would not come. All he could conjure was the sound of their laughter, and their golden curls bouncing as he tickled them on his knee.

‘Get him on his horse. We’ll bring his corpse back to River’s Bend for the Ealdorman,’ said Beornoth.

‘What about these people?’ said Alfgar. He carefully laid the dead Thegn’s hand to rest by his side and rose to stand with Beornoth. Beornoth noticed that Alfgar’s spear rested against a nearby fence, and its tip was dark with blood. The young warrior had fought and traded blows with the professional warriors of the north, and he had survived. He had grown broader in the chest, and the hard work Alfgar had put in across the winter, working at his weapons and strengthening his body, had kept him alive.

‘I already told them to head east to where our forces are. They say they want to stay here.’

‘If they stay, they’ll die, or the Vikings will take them as slaves.’

‘They must decide their own fate.’

‘We can let them march back to River’s Bend with us.’

‘We can’t. We ride now and move fast.’

‘But, if we leave them…’

Beornoth didn’t allow him to finish. ‘Besides, you and I aren’t going back to River’s Bend. Wulfhere will lead our men back, with the Thegn’s body, to rejoin Erkenwald and Byrhtnoth.’

‘So, where will we go?’

‘To the coast, to find his children.

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