‘I told you so,’ Herewulf was recovering his defiance.
‘Then tell Lord Æthelhelm that I’ll do that job for him.’
‘When Ælfweard is king,’ Herewulf responded, ‘Lord Æthelhelm will take your fortress and feed your carcass to the pigs.’
‘His father tried,’ I said, sheathing Serpent-Breath, ‘and he’s worm-food now. Be grateful I’ve let you live.’
We took the mail from all the prisoners, took their weapons and their horses, then left them on the road where one stallion lay dead, its blood darkening the mud. Two men had been killed, though a dozen others of Æthelhelm’s men were bleeding, as was Oswi, though he claimed he could hardly feel the wound. I kicked my horse to where the Lady Eadgifu waited. ‘We have to move, my lady,’ I said. ‘They’ll pursue us soon and we need to get to the ship.’
‘Lord Uhtred,’ she said in a tone of amazement. ‘You came!’
‘We must go, my lady.’
‘But my brother!’
‘Is talking to Æthelhelm’s men, my lady, and I can’t wait to find out what they decide. Do you wish to wait? You can stay here, and I’ll go.’ There were four women with Eadgifu, I assumed they were her servants or companions, one of whom was holding a small boy, just three or four years old, while two carried babes in arms. There was also a priest who wore a black cloak.
‘Lord Uhtred is right, my lady,’ the priest said nervously.
‘But my brother has come!’ Eadgifu stared towards Fæfresham as if expecting men with bulls or swords on their shields to come to her rescue.
‘And a lot of Ealdorman Æthelhelm’s men have come too,’ I said, ‘and until I know who’s won that battle we must stay with the boat.’
‘Can’t we go back?’ Eadgifu pleaded.
I stared at her. She was undeniably beautiful. She had skin as pale as milk, dark eyebrows and black hair, rich lips and an understandable look of anxiety. ‘Lady,’ I said as patiently as I could, ‘you asked for my help and I’m here. And I don’t help you by taking you back into a town that is full of brawling men, half of whom want to kill your children.’
‘I …’ she began, then decided not to speak.
‘We go that way,’ I insisted, pointing north. I looked behind and still saw there was no pursuit. ‘Let’s go!’ I shouted.
Eadgifu kicked her horse alongside mine. ‘Can we wait to find out what happened in Fæfresham?’ she asked.
‘We can wait,’ I agreed, ‘but only once we’re aboard my ship.’
‘I worry for my brother.’
‘And for your husband?’ I asked brutally.
She made the sign of the cross. ‘Edward is dying. Maybe he’s already dead.’
‘And if he is,’ I said, still speaking harshly, ‘Ælfweard is king.’
‘He is a rotten soul,’ she spat, ‘an evil creature. The spawn of a devil woman.’
‘Who will kill your children in the time it takes to drown a kitten,’ I said, ‘so we must take you somewhere safe.’
‘Where is safe?’ The question had come from one of Eadgifu’s women, the only one who was not holding a child. She kicked her horse so that she rode on my left, then asked, ‘Where will we go?’ It was plain that English, which she spoke with a delicate accent, was not her native tongue.
‘You are?’ I asked.
‘I am Benedetta,’ she said with a dignity that intrigued me.
The unusual name intrigued me too, for it was neither Saxon nor Danish. ‘Benedetta,’ I repeated it clumsily.
‘I am from Lupiae,’ she said proudly and, when I said nothing, ‘you have heard of Lupiae?’
I must have stared vacantly at her, because Eadgifu answered for me. ‘Benedetta is from Italy!’
‘Rome!’ I said.
‘Lupiae is far to the south of Rome,’ Benedetta said dismissively.
‘Benedetta is my treasured companion,’ Eadgifu explained.
‘And evidently a long way from home,’ I remarked.
‘Home!’ Benedetta almost spat the word at me. ‘Where is home, Lord Uhtred, when slavers come and take you away?’
‘Slavers?’
‘Saraceni pigs,’ she said. ‘I was twelve years old. And you have not answered me, Lord Uhtred.’
I looked at her again and thought this fine, defiant woman was as beautiful as her royal mistress. ‘I haven’t answered you?’
‘Where is safe?’
‘If Lady Eadgifu’s brother survives,’ I said, ‘then she is free to join him. If not, we go to Bebbanburg.’
‘Sigulf will come,’ Eadgifu said confidently, though immediately after speaking she made the sign of the cross.
‘I hope so,’ I said awkwardly, and wondered how I would cope with Eadgifu and her companions in Bebbanburg. The fortress was comfortable, but offered nothing like the luxuries of the palaces at Wintanceaster and Lundene. Then there were the rumours of plague in the north, and if Eadgifu and her children were to die in my fortress then men in Wessex would say I had killed them just as they claimed I had killed Æthelhelm the Elder.
‘My brother will come,’ Eadgifu interrupted my thoughts, ‘and besides, I cannot go to Bebbanburg.’
‘You’ll be safe there, my lady,’ I said.
‘My son,’ she said, pointing to the eldest of her children, ‘should be King of Wessex. He cannot be king if we are hiding in Northumbria!’
I half smiled. ‘Ælfweard will be king,’ I said gently, ‘and Æthelstan will try to be king, so there will be war, my lady. Best to be far away from it.’
‘There will be no war,’ she said, ‘because Æthelstan will be king.’
‘Æthelstan?’ I asked, surprised. I had thought she would press her son’s claim to the throne over Æthelstan’s. ‘He’ll only be king if he defeats Ælfweard,’ I added.
‘Æthelstan
