Read Avelynn: The Edge of Faith Online

Authors: Marissa Campbell

Avelynn: The Edge of Faith (20 page)

BOOK: Avelynn: The Edge of Faith
6.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Alrik stood and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I will not desert the cause. I have pledged my word. If we are to fight in a week’s time, we will spend much of that in travel. If we are lucky, we will outpace the gossip and leave Wales before the news catches up with us.”

Gwgon stood. “Word of your tale has not reached my ears, nor have I heard any whispers at court.” He addressed Alrik. “We can leave on the morrow. My men and I are ready.”

Alrik nodded. “Inform Hyffaid that we march at dawn.”

Eadfrith cleared his throat. “There is another way. I am to leave in two days. There is a group of us, all holy people, traveling to St. David’s. From there, we are set to sail to the continent. You could come with us. There are two nuns accompanying us. Perhaps you could borrow robes, conceal your identity until you are safely at sea.”

Alrik loomed over me. “I will not have you traveling with him.”

I glared at him. “What Eadfrith is offering is a generous compromise. His gesture is not without risk to himself. If you will not take me to the continent, perhaps he can see to my safety.”

Eadfrith smiled. “I mean no disrespect. I am a good man, trying to do a good deed.”

“With my betrothed.”

The room grew silent. Only the hiss and snap of the hearth fire disturbed the quietude of tense air between us.

“Excuse me.” I stormed from the room.

Alrik’s wide strides caught up with me in moments. I ignored him, continuing my pace, determined to reach my cottage and slam the door in his face.

“Avelynn, stop.”

I’d almost succeeded in slipping inside to safety, but his big paw reached around the edge as the door crashed into the frame. He swore. I winced. He pushed his way into the cottage, rubbing his hand, his jaw locked.

“How dare you,” I said. “You would refuse me safe passage for fear of another man’s attentions, yet I am to let Marared threaten and bewitch me while you protect her?”

“I do not believe his intentions are honorable.”

“And yours are? Your actions have been selfish and arrogant. You haven’t spared a moment for my safety or well-being since we arrived here.”

He scowled. “Will you not trust that I am dealing with the situation?”

“Dealing how?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I warned Marared that if she caused your illness, I would cut out her tongue and hang her by her toes until they ripped away. I was quite clear. If anything happened to you as a result of her threats, death would be a privilege she would beg for.”

“You still don’t believe me.”

“I would be no better than the priests or the men in England who accuse you of the same if I charged her with witchcraft and condemned her without proof. I do not doubt her hostility toward you, but I do not want to believe she is capable of such malice. Regardless of my thoughts on the matter, it has not stopped me from trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? How on earth is any of this protecting me?” I wanted to slap him.

“On Odin’s eye, woman. Everything I have done has been for you. Can you not see that? I have nothing. No claim to property. No name. No home to provide for you. I am trying to regain my honor so that I might have something to offer you. I have pledged my word. Would you have my word mean nothing too? Would you have me further disgraced?”

“I don’t need honor or property or a home. I need you.”

“And where are we to go? How will I provide for you when my men have left my side? Am I to beg from village to village to put food in your belly? Would you have me broken? Would you have me on my knees?” He collapsed onto a chair.

I went to him, dropping to the rushes. I held his cheek, the stubble coarse and soft against my palm. I kissed his eyelids. I kissed his cheek. I kissed his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Alrik. I’ve been selfish. Please forgive me.”

He drew me onto his lap. “There is nothing to forgive, Seiðkana. I only wish I could do more.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“I have sworn to protect you. I have proven myself in battle. I have no equal with a sword, but if these threats are real, I am useless to you. I cannot fight magic.”

“You can’t protect me, Alrik. Whether it’s from some evil plot or the coming battle. At some point you must sleep or let down your guard. This letter from Ealhswith is a warning. I’m running out of time. Once word of Osric’s gold gets out, nowhere will be safe. I need to leave.”

“No one else has heard this news. The tale is not common knowledge. I am asking for more time.” He held my hands in his. “The Christian pilgrimage is set to sail from St. David’s in a week. If the situation becomes dire, you can join with them then. We will push the conflict forward, confront Rhodri sooner, and leave Wales before anyone else is the wiser to our plight.” He ran his thumb across my lips. “I do not want to lose you.”

“You bloody stubborn Viking. There is no man in my life but you. I love you, Alrik the Bloodaxe Ragnarson. Eadfrith means nothing to me. No one could ever compete with you for my heart.”

He enfolded me in his arms. He would be my shield for a little while longer.

He kissed my forehead. “Come. They will be waiting.”

Everyone tactfully ignored my outburst, and Angharad sent us on our way, each of us charged with the mission to downplay and deny any rumors that might surface. Alrik left me in her care while he informed Tollak and his crew of the slight change in schedule.

“Ready?” Angharad asked.

When I nodded, she led me back into the hall as the community gathered for the daily feast. I excused myself and approached Eadfrith. He leaned against one of the columns, ankles crossed as he enjoyed a cup of mead.

“I wanted to thank you for your offer,” I said.

His smile was warm, but reserved. “I am sorry for my presumptuousness. I didn’t know the Viking would take offense.”

I waved his fears away. “I am grateful for your kindness. Alrik has agreed with my concerns and will concede to my wishes should I choose to join you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, but he’s asked for more time. If we haven’t left Wales by the time your ship is set to sail, you may find me on the quay, ready to board.”

He downed the cup of mead. “Wonderful.” He waved over a steward, who poured me a deep cup of the honey nectar. “To new opportunities.”

I smiled and set my cup to his.

“Come.” He took my hand. “Let me introduce you to some of my traveling companions.” He led me to a small party of monks and nuns, drawing an older woman away from the cloistered group.

“May I present Sister Frances,” he said. “She has just returned from the continent.”

I had to crane my neck to look at her. I curtsied. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

She stepped forward and clasped my hand. “Brother Eadfrith mentioned you might be traveling with his party to Francia.”

Eadfrith pointed across the room at Alrik, whose back was turned in conversation with Hyffaid. “Her escort is under the impression I am a scoundrel, and as such, I’ve yet to convince the lady to sail with us.”

Frances’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t trust you either around such a delightful creature.”

Eadfrith brought his hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

“I merely point out the obvious. You, my good friend, are trouble.”

“So you will not help my cause.”

“Not one bit.”

I smirked, amused by their familiar banter.

Eadfrith bowed. “Then I will leave you two to discuss my baser nature while I drown my aggrieved pride in more mead.”

“How long have you two known one another?” I asked, watching Eadfrith join the group of monks behind us.

“Since he was a boy. The scamp—hasn’t changed one bit.” Her smile was affectionate, like a mother looking upon a favored child. “But he’s harmless. A good man at heart.” She directed her warmth at me. “Where overseas are you headed?”

“To Francia to start. After that, I’m not certain. My betrothed has business at several ports.” I worried the answer might be too vague, but I couldn’t let anyone know our intentions.

“I was just in Flanders.”

“Flanders? Did you have the opportunity to visit Queen Judith?”

“Your English Queen is a countess now, but yes, I spent much time with her. She sent for me, to oversee the construction and operations of a beautiful new abbey.”

“How does she fare?” Judith was akin to a heroine in my mind. Her strength of character compelled me to seek out my own life, not one governed by men, society, or the church. Her love story with Count Baldwin inspired a young, impressionable me to want more. Alrik gave me that.

“She is well. Her boys are strong, brawny lads, full of mischief. I daresay they get that sparkle in their eye from their mother. Did you know her?”

“My mother did.” I bit my tongue. Lying on the spot, it would appear, was not a strong suit of mine. “At least she knew of her.” I changed tack. “Eadfrith mentioned you just came home from the continent. Are you returning so soon?”

“No, no, my dear. I am accompanying them on their way to St. Dogmael’s. I have a few matters to settle with Abbott Rys before I return to Bangor in Gwynedd. I oversee a large convent there. I’ve been away far too long. Speaking of home, perhaps you know my traveling companion; he too is from England.” Frances caught the attention of a man deep in conversation behind her. He lifted his head, and my heart leapt as he turned. A mass of bright red hair filled out his tonsure. “May I present Father Plegmund of Wedmore,” she said.

Our eyes locked. How long had he been traveling? Did he know the events that had transpired in England?

“We are well met, lady.” He embraced me. “I’ve not seen you since you marched away to war. I was relieved to hear you were delivered safely to your husband.”

“Husband?” Frances looked across the room at Alrik.

I cringed. “No. I’m not married. Not yet.”

Plegmund followed our gaze. “Would you excuse us, sister?” I wrapped my arm around Plegmund’s.

“Of course.” She called after me as I led Plegmund farther from the crowd.

“It’s so good to see you again, Father. What brings you to Wales?”

His good-natured face creased with worry. “I am on a pilgrimage to Rome and have been traveling for several weeks. How fares Wedmore?”

I had almost managed to get him out of earshot, but like a magnet, his words turned the ears of the last people I wanted to overhear them. Marared studied me, her mother’s hawk-like eyes boring into mine, stripping away my alibis.

I drew him closer to the door.

“And what is this about your husband?”

I couldn’t get the man out of the hall fast enough. I practically dragged him from the room. “There have been terrible happenings.”

He shuffled quickly, his robes bunching around his feet. “Go on.”

I shook my head. “Not here. Let us speak in private.”

Two ruddy eyebrows drew together. “Of course.”

We grabbed cloaks and stepped outside, walking past the stables, weaving sheds, kitchens, and roasting pits. We left the courtyard, passing through the gates, and traipsed down the steep incline. I stopped halfway down the hill when I spied a fallen tree. Its bole would serve as an impromptu bench. “Please.” I motioned for him to sit down.

It was early evening. The sun, a gilded flame emanating through banks of tarnished clouds, appeared like a faceted jewel as it dipped toward the horizon. The soft hue bathed Plegmund’s face in a warm light.

“What has happened?” he asked.

I sat beside him. “Have you heard nothing?”

“I left shortly after you took up your father’s cause in the war. I tried to keep abreast of the conflict, but only bits and pieces filtered through by messenger. I knew the army had lost at a terrible cost during the battle of Meretun. King Aethelred received a terrible wound. They called the Witan and named Alfred successor to the throne.”

“Angharad received word of the council’s decision only yesterday. Do you know nothing then of what befell me?”

“Last I heard, the Vikings captured you, but Demas paid your ransom, and you were set free. I assumed you returned home with your new husband to govern your estates.”

“My new husband killed my father, and bought my compliance to gain my hand in marriage. I left him and England, but not before my uncle spread vicious lies about me. I am wanted on charges of treason, murder, and witchcraft. I thought it best you heard it from my lips first.” I waited with my hands in my lap, letting him absorb the news, and kept my eyes trained straight ahead. I could feel his scrutiny. “I pray you know me for the righteous and just person that I am. My friends have sought to protect me, but I fear it will all be for naught.”

“I warned you before you left of factions at work.”

“Demas and Osric have lined the Vikings’ pockets with Wedmore’s gold.”

He sighed. “So they have moved one step closer to the crown.”

I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know if they have seized your estate?”

“Yes. Bertram told me before I left England. They rounded up all the men who fought under my banner and executed them. The women and children …”

He hung his head. “Dearest Jesu, protect them.”

“So you believe my innocence?” It seemed impossible.

“I knew your uncle vied for an advantage. I am not surprised to hear it was by his command that your father met his death.” He crossed himself.

“You said they have moved one step closer to the crown. What do you mean?”

“Northumbria and East Anglia have fallen to the sons of Ragnar. All without a pitched battle. How is that?”

“Political unrest.”

“Yes, but Wessex was once strong, united.”

Clarity hit like the peal of a bell. “Until now.” I thought of the factions undermining the Witan at Christmastide, when I had accused Demas of sodomy. The hall was divided by those that supported my father and those that supported Demas and Osric. With the defamation of my name and through it, my father’s reputation, people would be more willing to listen to Osric and support his plans. “At my wedding there were handshakes and whispers.” I looked to the east. Wessex was in trouble. I recalled the vision I’d had of Alfred and Ealhswith running for their lives.

BOOK: Avelynn: The Edge of Faith
6.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Green Mill Murder by Kerry Greenwood
Gunner Skale by James Dashner
Shades of Passion by DePaul, Virna
Lincoln Unbound by Rich Lowry
Lavender Oil by Julia Lawless
Angel Stations by Gary Gibson
If I Told You by Jennifer Domenico
Envy by Noire


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024