Darkest before Dawn (The Kingdom of Mercia Book 2) (25 page)

BOOK: Darkest before Dawn (The Kingdom of Mercia Book 2)
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Eorcengota caught up with her sister. They made their way
toward a long worktable next to the nearest of the two fire pits.

“That must be Prince Wulfhere of Mercia,” she whispered.
“He’s handsome, don’t you think?”

“No,” Ermenilda lied.

They joined their mother, Queen Seaxburh, upon the high
table where she was pouring mead into cups.

“Fæder’s guests are here,” Ermenilda announced. She
picked up another clay jug and began helping her mother.

“Yes, so I’ve seen.”

There was no missing the acerbity in their mother’s
voice. Ermenilda saw her glance in the direction of the newcomers and glimpsed
a flash of hostility in her mother’s usually serene eyes.

“Mōder, what is it?”

“I have no wish to dine with Penda’s whelp,” the queen
replied, her attention returning to her task. “Penda killed my father and
brother. I would rather not break bread with his son.”

Ermenilda glanced back at the blond man, who was now
making his way across the floor. He appeared to be listening attentively while
her father talked to him. She knew that her grandfather—King Annan of the East
Angles—and her uncle, Jurmin, had both fallen three years earlier in battle
against the Mercians. It had taken place in the marshes at Blythburgh, in the
borderlands between Mercia and East Anglia. Her mother, who adored her father,
had been inconsolable when she learned the news.

Seeing the look on her face now, Ermenilda saw that the
grudge her mother bore Mercia ran deep. Not that Ermenilda blamed her. She cast
a dark look at Prince Wulfhere and prayed her father send him quickly on his
way.

Ermenilda had listened to many a tale about ruthless King
Penda around the fire pit at night. The violent pagan, who would stop at
nothing to expand his borders, had died in battle against Northumbria two years
earlier, but that had not stopped the stories about him.

At least Fæder will not wed me to a pagan,
Ermenilda
assured herself as she finished filling the cups. Eorcenberht was a god-fearing
man who, just a year earlier, had overseen the destruction of all the pagan idols
in Cantwareburh. He also had insisted that the town observe Lent, the period of
fasting after Ēostre.

Ermenilda sneaked a glance at the Mercian prince as he
stepped up on the high seat. Frankly, despite his good looks and charisma, this
man frightened her. He was different from her father, who was loud, bluff, and
easy to read. The prince appeared to be a man who said little and thought
much—she did not trust such men.

Taking a seat at the table upon the high seat, to the
left of her mother, Ermenilda was disconcerted to see that their guest had sat
down at her father’s right—the spot usually reserved for his eldest son,
Ecgberht. Prince Wulfhere was sitting directly opposite her, and she realized
there would be no escaping his gaze during the meal.

Servants placed wooden boards, piled high with food, upon
the table. Ermenilda watched Prince Wulfhere help himself to a generous serving
of bread, cheese, and salted pork. The king watched him, smiling.

“I am glad you have come to dine at our table, Lord
Wulfhere.”

“And I am thankful for your hospitality,” the Mercian
replied. “You welcome an exiled prince into your hall on a cold night. For
that, I am grateful.”

Ermenilda stole a glance at her mother. The queen sat
still and silent, hardly touching her food. The joviality on her husband’s face
was absent upon Seaxburh’s.

“Not exiled for much longer, if I have anything to do
with it,” Eorcenberht replied, raising his cup high into the air.

The prince fixed him with a cool, level gaze.

“So you will help me regain the Mercian throne?”

“Aye, I have no wish to have Northumbrians preying upon
my borders. Mercia has always been good to the Kentish people. I will not
abandon you now.”

The queen visibly paled at this, her grip on her bronze
cup tightening. Ermenilda had never seen her mother so incensed. Yet, the king
appeared oblivious to it. Heedless, he continued.

“I will gift you one hundred Kentish spears—my bravest
warriors—to help you retake Tamworth.”

The prince nodded and smiled.

“You are generous, Lord Eorcenberht.”

Ermenilda watched their conversation with a growing sense
of unease. She knew that the Northumbrian king, Oswiu, had held control over
the Mercian stronghold of Tamworth for the past year. The Northumbrians had
controlled southern Mercia ever since the murder of King Paeda, last Ēostre.
It dismayed her to hear that her father was now involving himself in matters
that did not concern him. If this exiled prince failed to retake the Mercian
throne, there would be consequences for Kent.

Still, a woman’s opinion mattered little when it came to
politics, so she kept silent. Likewise, the queen held her tongue, although
Ermenilda could see it cost her to do so.

The meal progressed, and the conversation shifted to
other things. The king complained about the bitter winter that lay upon them
and then asked the prince about his exile.

“How have you managed to escape capture?” he asked.

“I have been living in the woods of southern Mercia,”
Wulfhere replied, “and gathering men loyal to me. Local folk have been only too
happy to hide me.”

“My men tell me you arrived here with a white wolf?”

The prince smiled at this. It was the first truly warm
smile that Ermenilda had seen him give.

“Her name is Mōna. I’ve left her in the stables
while I’m here. She will trouble no one as long as she is left in peace.”

“So the wolf travels with you?”

“She does. Mōna is my shadow.”

Ermenilda suppressed a shudder; this man was most
definitely a pagan. There was something wild—dangerous—about him. As if sensing
her reaction, Prince Wulfhere looked at her. Their gazes met for an instant,
and Ermenilda saw his naked interest.

Heart pounding, she looked away and stared down at the
remains of her supper.

“Your eldest daughter is quite lovely,” Wulfhere
commented. “Is she betrothed yet?”

“Not yet,” the king replied. “She wishes to take the
veil, but although I would like one of my daughters to serve god, I would
prefer my eldest married well.”

Ermenilda glanced up, shocked by her father’s admission.
She had been sure he would agree to let her join the nuns at Eastry. Of the two
sisters, she was far more suited to such a life. Eorcengota was too spirited
and silly to enjoy life as a nun, whereas Ermenilda craved quiet and solitude.

“Would you consider wedding her to me then?” Wulfhere
asked.

Ermenilda watched her father’s face and knew the offer
had delighted him. However, he did not reply immediately. Instead, he leaned
back in his chair and fingered the elaborately carved armrests while he mulled
the request over. She glimpsed a shrewd glint in his eye and realized he was calculating
something.

“It depends on two things, Lord Wulfhere,” he replied
eventually.

The Mercian put down his cup of mead and returned the
Kentish king’s gaze, his expression unreadable.

“And what are they?”

“The first is you must be baptized, renounce the old
gods, and destroy all traces of them at Tamworth. I cannot wed my daughter to a
pagan.”

“And the second?”

“You must win back the Mercian throne before you and
Ermenilda can be handfasted. Once you are the King of Mercia, she is yours.”

Ermenilda slowly let out the breath she had been holding.
Her father’s conditions had made her relax slightly.

Wulfhere’s father had flatly refused to be baptized, and
she wagered that his son was cut from the same cloth. Plus, taking back
Tamworth from the Northumbrians sounded like a difficult task at best. Perhaps
a life at Eastry was not lost to her after all.

Unfortunately, Wulfhere’s next words shattered her hopes.
He glanced first at Ermenilda and smiled, although his eyes were hungry.
Wulfhere’s gaze met the king’s once more.

“I agree to your conditions,” he replied firmly. “I will
accept your god and take Tamworth back for my people . . . and
then . . .”

His gaze flicked back to Ermenilda, and she wilted under
the heat of his stare.

“I will come to claim your daughter.”

 

--

 

Buy Book #3 in the Kingdom
of Mercia series: DAWN OF WOLVES.

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

Thank
you for reading DARKEST BEFORE DAWN. I hope that Alchflaed and Maric’s story
touched you – it was a story I absolutely
loved
writing.

 

As
many of you will know, I am an indie author, so if you enjoyed this novel
please leave an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. It would mean a lot to me
– and will ensure others find the book too!

 

Thank
you for your support.

Jayne

 

***

Historical Note

 

 

DARKEST
BEFORE DAWN is my most historically based novel to date.

 

Alchflaed,
daughter of Oswiu of Northumbria did exist. She married Paeda of Mercia in
order to ‘peace-weave’ between the two kingdoms of Northumbria and Mercia. Her
husband was assassinated at ‘Easter-tide’ in 656 A.D. There is no historical
record of what happened to Alchflaed after her husband’s death, although she
was blamed for it.

 

When
I was researching story ideas for this novel, I seized upon Alchflaed’s story,
knowing that I could build an exciting tale around it. Her love story with
Maric is fictional, for I like to think that Alchflaed did not murder her
husband. Instead, she was framed, but managed to escape to freedom.

 

The
characters of Oswiu, Alchfrith, Cyneburh, Eanflaed, Seaxwulf, Wulfhere,
Aethelred, Paeda, and Cyneswide (among others) were all actual historical
figures – although their characterization is my own.

 

The
Battle of Winwaed, which begins the novel, was a real battle, and the defining
moment in the shift of power between Mercia and Northumbria. At this point,
with the death of the mighty Penda of Mercia, Mercia’s influence begins to
wane, and Northumbria rises.

More works by Jayne
Castel

 

 

Dark
Under the Cover of Night

(The
Kingdom of the East Angles, Book 1)

Buy
a copy now from Amazon (Kindle or in paperback)

 

 

QUARTER
FINALIST IN THE AMAZON BREAKTHROUGH NOVEL AWARD 2013 - ROMANCE CATEGORY!

 

The
year is 624 A.D, and Raedwyn – daughter of King Raedwald of the East Angles –
has just been handfasted to one of her father’s ealdorman. Although highborn
women wed to strengthen political alliances, rather than for love, Raedwyn
still hopes for a happy marriage like that of her parents’. But, her optimism
is shattered on her wedding night.

 

Raedwyn’s
life shifts unexpectedly when outlaws ambush her new husband's party on their
journey back to his long ship. She finds herself captive of a bitter, vengeful
warrior – Ceolwulf the Exiled. He has a score to settle with King Raedwald and
Raedwyn is his bargaining tool.

 

Caelin,
Ceolwulf’s enigmatic son, follows his father on his quest for revenge. Fiercely
loyal to her own father, Raedwyn isn't prepared for her wild attraction to
Caelin – or for its consequences. In a world where to go against a king’s word
means death, Raedwyn must decide what matters more: love or duty.

 

 

Nightfall
till Daybreak

(The
Kingdom of the East Angles, Book 2)

Buy
now from Amazon (Kindle or in paperback)

 

QUARTER
FINALIST IN THE AMAZON BREAKTHROUGH NOVEL AWARD 2014 - ROMANCE CATEGORY!

 

It
is the spring of 629 A.D. and Freya, the headstrong daughter of a renowned
healer, accompanies her mother to the hall of the King of the East Angles. When
the king learns the healer cannot heal him without taking his leg, he flies
into a rage, banishes Freya’s mother and keeps her daughter as his slave.

 

Enslaved
by one king, and then by his successor, Freya fights to regain her freedom in a
world controlled by ruthless men. Resourceful and determined, she has just one
weakness: Aidan of Connacht, the king’s right-hand. Aidan, an incorrigible
flirt, has accompanied the new king to Britannia, in search of a new life.
However, he soon realizes his loyalty will cost him dearly.

 

In
the shadow of approaching war, Freya and Aidan gradually grow closer – but
neither can give in to their passion. Freya’s fate has now entangled with that
of her doomed king’s. Ultimately, she must decide just how much her freedom is
worth.

 

 

The
Deepening Night

(The
Kingdom of the East Angles, Book 3)

Buy
now from Amazon (Kindle or in paperback)

 

Spring
630 A.D. and Saewara, sister to the King of Mercia, has just lost her husband.
Finally free of a cruel bully, Saewara wishes to take the veil and retire to a
life of peace and solitude.

 

But,
the king destroys her plans when he orders her to remarry – to her people’s
enemy.

 

Saewara
will wed Annan of the Wuffingas, the King of the East Angles. Following his
kingdom’s humiliating defeat to Mercia six months earlier, Annan must ‘bend the
knee’ to his new lord. However, what begins as a forced marriage develops into
a slow-burning passion between Annan and Saewara. Two proud individuals, they
must come to terms with more than an unwanted marriage.

 

A
woman of quiet, indomitable will, Saewara leaves her past behind and attempts
to forge a new life for herself as Queen of the East Angles – but her fragile
happiness risks destruction by the ambitions of her ruthless brother.

 

 

The
Breaking Dawn

(The
Kingdom of Mercia, Book 1)

Buy
now from Amazon (Kindle or in paperback)

 

It
is the summer of 641 A.D., and Merwenna of Weyham impatiently awaits her
betrothed: a young warrior who marched to war, and never returned. She goes in
search of him, travelling to Tamworth – the seat of the Mercian King – only to
discover the bitter truth. He is dead.

 

In
Tamworth, Merwenna meets Welsh battle Lord, Prince Cynddylan, who led a host of
warriors to help Mercia fight Northumbria. From the moment Merwenna and
Cynddylan meet, their paths are entwined.

 

In
a journey from Tamworth, through the green heart of Mercia, and into the woods
and mountains of Wales, Merwenna struggles between grief for the man she has
lost, and her powerful attraction to this battle lord who appears to love only
power and glory.

 

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