The Price of Blood. Patricia Bracewell. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Patricia Bracewell
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Приключения: прочее
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008104597
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she had sent him. But she had never dreamed that the king would do something so savage. To cut down the premier ealdorman of England was an act that spoke of a hatred so fierce it was not likely to stop there.

      And her brothers were with the king.

      ‘What will he do to Wulf and Ufegeat?’ she whispered.

      ‘If they are still alive,’ Alric said, ‘I doubt they will be so for long. You cannot help them, lady. You must look to your own safety.’

      Suddenly the day’s events became too real, and she rocked forward and back, hands against her mouth to stifle the wail that was swelling in her throat. She felt Alric’s arms go round her, and she gave herself up to the terror of what she had set in motion. She had wanted her father punished, but not like this.

      Why had the fool chosen to wed her to a Danish lord? It was a decision that made no sense to her, and now they must all pay for it. Even she must pay for it.

      That thought made her pull away from Alric and wipe her eyes with her hands. She would not weep for her father. Had he treated her better he would still be alive, and she would not be here now.

      You must look to your own safety, Alric had said. And he was right. She was still alive. And although the world around her had changed utterly, she was still who she had ever been – the daughter of Ealdorman Ælfhelm, granddaughter of Wulfrun of Tamworth, and descendant of Wulfric the Black. She had lands and she had money, and there were men who would help her if she could but get to them.

      ‘My father’s thegns in Northampton will protect me from the king,’ she said. ‘You must take me there.’

      Alric snorted. ‘That is exactly where Eadric and the king will expect you to go. There may already be king’s guards posted at the gates of your father’s manors, and by tomorrow they will be hunting for you all over Mercia.’

      Of course; her father’s estates would be watched. Likely she could not even get a message to the men who might be of most use to her. In any case, many of her father’s closest allies would be with the king at the Easter court, and so at risk themselves.

      She had no way of knowing how hot the king’s vengeance would blaze, or how far. If Æthelred should find her, what would he do to her? Would he murder her as well? Or would he merely imprison her, cast her into some black cell where she could never be found? He would certainly not wed her to any of his sons.

      Yet that was where her destiny lay, she was certain of it. She had been promised that she would be queen, although how she was to make that come about she could not see. Not yet.

      ‘I must get as far away from Æthelred as swiftly as I can. Go where he cannot reach me.’ She must find a protector – someone with men and arms who would not be afraid to use them against the king if need be.

      ‘Then you must go either west into the Wælisc lands,’ he said, ‘or east to the Danelaw.’

      ‘Not west,’ she said. ‘I would be still within reach of Eadric, and I have no kinsmen there to protect me.’ She must go into the Danelaw, then. They had little love there for Æthelred – or so her father always said. Whom could she trust, though, to resist the lure of gold if the king should put a price upon her head? She ran through the list of her father’s allies, and then she had the answer. ‘We will go to Thurbrand,’ she said, ‘to the Lord of Holderness.’

      Thurbrand had never been tempted by anything that Æthelred could offer him. She had once heard her father call him an old pirate, and chide him for shunning the rewards given to those who attended the king. But Thurbrand had vowed that he wanted neither the rewards nor the responsibilities that bending the knee to Æthelred would gain. So he remained in his fastness on the edge of the Danish sea, plotting against his English enemies in Jorvik, paying lip service to the House of Cerdic, and governing his people like a half king.

      ‘We’ll have to take a ship, then,’ Alric said, ‘for we could not hope to make it across Mercia with the king’s men after us. At first light we’ll go to Chester. The harbour there will have any number of vessels readying to make sail, and we can buy passage aboard the first one we find.’

      ‘How long will it take us to get to Holderness?’

      He shrugged. ‘Impossible to say. Much will depend on the weather and on how quickly we can get passage on ships bound where we wish to go. It may take us months, and if it does, what does it matter? It will do you no harm to disappear from England for a time. Let Æthelred wonder what has become of you.’

      That prospect cheered her. She would be the missing piece on the game board that was England. They would probably search the abbeys for her, and the king would grow frantic when he could not find her. It was hardly recompense for her father’s murder, but it was a beginning.

      ‘We must get word to Thurbrand,’ she said, ‘that I am making my way there. Can it be done?’

      ‘Yes, but’ – he held up her hand and the gold and gems that covered each finger glittered in the firelight – ‘it may cost you some of these baubles.’

      He turned her hand over and ran a fingertip across her palm, and she was astonished by her response – desire shimmering through her like summer lightning, the heat of it easing her fear. Her body remembered Alric well, it seemed, for he had pleasured her like this before, years ago, and she was sorely tempted to lose herself in the sensations that she knew he could arouse in her. But once she set her foot on that path there would be no going back, and she had no wish to knock at Thurbrand’s gate with Alric’s brat in her belly.

      She clasped his hand between her palms and held it tight.

      ‘I am your lord now, Alric,’ she said, ‘and I expect you to serve me as you served my father.’ He could rape her if he wanted to, she supposed. She would not have the physical strength to resist him, and even if she did, where was she to run? Her father had trusted Alric, though, had been generous with him; she hoped that she could do the same. She released his hand, slipped a ring from her finger, and placed it in his palm. ‘You have done well by me today,’ she said, ‘and I give you this as a pledge of far greater favours to come. Will you protect me until we reach Holderness?’

      She watched him closely, saw the cocked brow and the speculative look in his eye. Had any woman ever refused Alric’s attempt at seduction? Likely she was the first.

      He nodded, and pocketed the ring.

      ‘I am your man, my lady,’ he said, ‘to Holderness and beyond, if need be.’

      ‘Good.’ She held up her hands. ‘The rest of these baubles we will use to get us there. And in Chester you will buy me a fine tunic and breecs. The king’s men will be looking for a woman and a man, not a young lord and his servant.’

      They settled themselves to sleep then, on either side of the fire. For a long time, though, she lay awake, staring into the dying flames and pondering her future. If her brothers were dead, there was no man now who could command her except the king. And once she slipped free of whatever net Æthelred might throw out to snare her, she could claim her estates and marry. She could marry any man she wished.

      She closed her eyes, and as she let herself drift towards sleep she wondered where Lord Athelstan was. She wondered if he realized just how valuable she could be to him.

       April 1006

       Near Saltford, Oxfordshire

      Athelstan halted his horse beside the standing stone that pointed skyward like a gnarled finger. In the shallow valley in front of him, beyond the ring of stunted oaks, he could see the circle of stones and the figure seated at its centre, waiting.

      It was not too late to turn back; not too late to make his way to London as he had intended when he left his father’s hall. Even now he did not know if he had come here of his own free will or if he had been drawn by some force that he did not understand.

      He knew only that he was afraid – for himself, for the king, for England.