Wolf of Wessex by Harffy Matthew

Wolf of Wessex by Harffy Matthew

Author:Harffy, Matthew [Harffy, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2019-11-14T00:00:00+00:00


Twenty-Four

Aedwen could not be certain, but she thought she recognised the voice of one of the horsemen as that of Raegnold, the tall man who had taken her to Gytha’s house. The man who had stabbed Odin and then attacked them as they were escaping from Briuuetone.

His voice was muffled and muted, the injury he’d suffered at Dunston’s hands evidently making speech difficult. But the sound of his voice had filled her with dread, bringing back the terrible sadness she had felt at seeing Dunston’s dog hurt, the bleak terror of witnessing Dunston, the man who had led her safely from the forest, locked up. And, even though she had not heard Raegnold’s voice before that evening in Briuuetone, somehow, the sound of it sent her mind reeling back to that morning in the forest when she had lost her father. When she had sprinted blindly into the woods, fleeing from his attackers and his screams.

Perhaps, she wondered, as Dunston led her back to the path, she had heard his voice amongst her father’s screams for mercy. Maybe there was something in his tone that her memory was able to latch on to. Whether she had heard him or not all those days ago, there was no doubt now in her mind that he had been there when her father was killed. Her rage at the thought threatened to consume her. Her fear of the man and the rest of Hunfrith’s men turned her stomach. Oh, that she were a man! That she could take up a weapon and strike down these monsters who had caused so much misery.

Looking down at the earth, she could easily make out the five sets of horse’s hooves and the heavy, booted feet of the five riders who had been walking beside their steeds. Dunston touched her arm and she flinched.

“They are gone,” he said. “They are not aware we are on their trail. They are solely focused on Ithamar.”

“What will…” she had been about to ask what they would do to him when they caught up with the monk, but bit back the question. It was foolish. She knew all too well what lay in store for him if the horsemen ran him to ground. “What are we to do?” she asked instead.

“They are ahead of us now, so we must be wary. But they are travelling quickly, and I doubt they will suspect anyone is following them. Perhaps in their haste they will miss Ithamar. Or maybe he has already reached the priest and delivered his message. If he has, they will be able to do nothing to prevent it. I say we press on.” He lifted his axe so that the sunlight caught its sharp edge. “With caution.”

Aedwen took a slow calming breath and nodded. Her hands were shaking, but she grasped the staff Dunston had given her and set off in the wake of the riders.

They walked on in silence with none of the relaxed companionship they had enjoyed earlier that day.



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