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

Author:MJ Porter [Porter, MJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2024-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

16

As we make our way towards Canterbury, I find myself trying to decide whether I recognise where I am.

The roadway is liberally splattered with horse and ox shit. I consider where these people came from. One moment the roadway was only slightly covered in shit, the next it’s almost impossible to sidestep it and I realise why we’re catching them. They’re moving at a much slower pace than our horses.

‘The ford at Laleham Gulls,’ Oswy offers, as though hearing my thoughts.

‘If there was a bloody ford then why didn’t we use it two summers ago?’

‘The river was running too high. I don’t know why. It should have been passable. It usually is in the summer months. And, anyway, it would have involved us going backwards to go forwards, so King Wiglaf might have discovered our intentions. And we’d have needed to spend a lot more time on Wessex soil,’ he replies quickly. It explains a great deal.

A day later, the settlement of Londonia passes by to our left, shrouded in a haze of smoke. I can just make out the fort of Londinium, its walls shimmering in the weak sunlight. We’ve spent enough time riding along the River Thames, looking for Viking raiders and Wessex warriors from the other side of the river. Now those landmarks come into focus more clearly. I’m surprised when, at the end of the fifth day from Winchester, we find ourselves not far from where we crossed the River Thames to save Lord Coenwulf. I consider how easy it would be to just go back to Mercia now but Wulfheard won’t allow us to discuss it. He should be with the bishops, and now we must meet up with the Mercian bishops. I can understand his determination.

The memories of rescuing Lord Coenwulf have me considering my thoughts concerning our current endeavours. While we might not be rushing to liberate someone from Viking raiders, is what we’re doing really any different? We’re working to ensure Mercia remains safe from all her enemies. It’s just unfortunate that this time, our enemies don’t come with seaxes and blades but rather with scraps of vellum and lumps of amber and with access to people they shouldn’t.

I wish I could be confident it was all the work of this lord of Wessex, or Mercia’s queen, but I’m not convinced. There are already too many people involved, who shouldn’t even know one another, let alone be trying to deprive Mercia of its future king when King Wiglaf is dead.

Brihthild and Brihtwulf keep much to themselves. His cough has eased with the continuing use of the pottage and other healing potions. He can sit more easily in the saddle. I don’t miss the look both of them turn on Londinium. They know their brother died there. They just don’t know who was responsible for it. They speak more to Cuthred than me, although he whispers to me at night if they say something he thinks I should know. I listen, but I’m tired and exhausted.

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