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“The stablehand—Taber was his name—said the Viking went to the house to speak with Wulfhere repeatedly over the last few weeks, and each time he left, he did so in a fouler mood than before.”

King Alfred gave Brecc a silent, knowing look. No one else on the island knew the full reason for Aisley’s desperate flight from home, so Brecc remained silent, too, willing to follow the king’s lead.

“They obviously had a falling-out,” the king said. “The cause is immaterial. Rangvald did us a great service. Not only did he rid our land of an unscrupulous traitor, but he also left behind a powerful message for all those who might contemplate following in Wulfhere’s footsteps. Let us pray that others quickly learn that a Viking chieftain’s oath—no matter which of their pagan gods they choose to entreat—is worthless.”

It was a lesson King Alfred himself had been forced to learn when the horde had attacked Chippenham.

“What of Wulfhere’s mother and sister?” Brecc asked.

“They were yet at the house,” Odda said. “We told them there was no longer a place for them in Wessex, but if they wished to live elsewhere, we would convey them to the nearest ship.” He glanced at his muddy clothing. “We are just come from Portsea, where both women boarded a craft bound for Normandy.”

A portion of the tension in Brecc’s chest released. Aisley had been deeply hurt by her mother and sister, but she would not wish them killed. That the king had orchestrated this compromise—a dire punishment without the loss of life—was a credit to him.

“You have done well, Odda,” the king said. “I thank you for your efforts on behalf of the crown.”

Odda bowed. “Glad to be of service, Sire. And now, if you would excuse me, I shall attempt to rid myself of half of Hampshire’s mud.”

He left the room, and the king turned his attention to Brecc once more.

“And so, punishment has been administered—and the Vikings took charge of the worst of it.” He sighed. “After you have given the men my charge, I would have you be the one to tell Aisley of her family members’ fate.”

“As you wish, Sire.”

“It is, indeed,” the king said, his expression softening slightly. “And I rather think it is also as Aisley would wish.”

CHAPTER 30

AISLEY TIED A PIECE OF string to the end of her long plait and tossed it over her shoulder. She did not know the exact hour, but Whitsunday had just dawned, and on the other side of the partition, low voices and rustled movement told her the thegns were preparing for departure. Opening her satchel, she checked the contents one more time. Bandages, honey, pouches of her most effective herbs, a couple of small wooden bowls, a knife, needle and thread, the crock of spiderwebs, and her blanket. She was as prepared as she could be. Placing her cloak over her shoulders, she slid the satchel strap over her head, and with a last look around her small sleeping area, she slipped into the cottage’s main room.

Almost all the thegns were gone. The last few were dragging their pallets into the corner of the room. There was no sign of Brecc. It had been too difficult to say farewell last night, so they’d not done so. Brecc had suggested that she come to the dock to see them off instead. She’d agreed. Not because she planned to see them off but because she planned to go with them.

Hastening out of the cottage, she followed the men heading toward the punts. It would take more than one crossing for each of the three crafts to transport everyone across the marsh. The horses would need to be guided across also. Not to mention the additional space needed to carry the weapons. For the last two days, the island had been filled with the sound of sharpening blades, and every man carried at least three spears with him.

“Push off, Radolf!” That was Bertwin, and it sounded like the transportation of men, horses, and weapons had begun.

Aisley reached the bank in time to see the punt carrying half a dozen thegns and drawing almost as many mounts behind it float away. The second punt was already loaded with men. Lufian was drawing four horses down the bank on long lead ropes. One of the horses slipped and pulled back anxiously. Another thegn reached for half the ropes and handed them off to Odda, who was seated at the rear of the punt.

“That’s it!” Bertwin called. Immediately, the boat moved away, and with a splash, the horses entered the water behind it.

Aisley scoured the shoreline. There was no sign of the king. She guessed he’d been in the first punt. It was probably for the best. She intended to do all in her power to persuade Brecc to let her join the company, but if the king had denied her permission, she would have been forced to comply.

She followed the bank past a small grove of trees. A dozen uneasy horses stood awaiting the return of the first punt. Offering the thegn holding their ropes a brief greeting, Aisley kept walking, still searching for Brecc. And then she spotted him. He and Rheged were standing side by side, watching the punts float around the bend. Her steps slowed, and as the first rays of morning light touched the water, she took a moment to marvel at how deeply she had come to care for these men and their cause.

As though he sensed her presence, Brecc turned. His smile was instant, but then his gaze dropped to her clothing, and a worried frown appeared across his brow. She crossed the short distance between them and put her arms around him. He responded instantly, drawing her closer.

“I am happy to see you,” he said, “but why are you wearing those clothes?”

“Because for the next little while, I am reverting to the role of Avi, a peasant boy.”

His frown intensified. “Why?”

“Because I am coming with you.”

He released her and took a step back. “Absolutely not.”

She had rehearsed her argument multiple times during the night. It had been significantly easier to do without having to look into Brecc’s horror-filled eyes. “You do not understand—”

“No,” Brecc interrupted her. “You do not understand. I would not wish any woman to witness the atrocities of a battlefield. Ever. But of all kinds of combat, a war waged against the Vikings is the worst. Their cruelty and ferocity knows no end. The sights and sounds of such an encounter can haunt those who experience it for a lifetime.”