Page 4 of Summer of the Viking

‘What do I have to offer anyone, let alone a king-in-waiting?’

‘You have dark hair and eyes like spring grass. And you are intelligent. You know lots about herbs and healing and your voice sounds like an angel when you sing. Why don’t you sing now, Stepmother?’

‘A prince needs more than a pretty face for a wife. Athelings need wives who can play politics and bring them the throne. I’d rather be in my garden than at court.’ Alwynn pointedly ignored the question about singing. Ever since she had discovered her late husband Theodbald’s treachery, she’d taken no pleasure in music. Her voice tightened every time she tried. Of all the things she’d lost, that one hurt the most.

Merri balled her fists. ‘Sometimes you have to believe in better days. You told me that. After my father died and all went wrong. And I do believe. One day, everything will come right for the both of us.’

Alwynn forced her lips to turn up. Perhaps Merri was right. Perhaps she had been far too serious for the past few months, but it was hard to be joyful when you had lost nearly everything. It had begun with Theodbald’s death from a hunting accident. He’d been drunk and had ended up being gored by a wild boar. There had been nothing she or any monk could do to save him. It was then that the true extent of the debts were revealed and she’d had to take charge. ‘Your father’s death...altered things.’

The girl gave a solemn nod, her golden curls bobbing in the sunshine. ‘I know. But there are times that I wish we still lived in the great hall with a stable full of horses.’

‘There is nothing wrong with our new hall. It is where my grandmother grew up and it does have things to recommend it. A large herb garden.’

Merri wrinkled her nose. ‘If you like plants...’

‘We have no need of princes. I will be able to hold this hall.’

‘I know my real mother watches over us from heaven, but my father?’ Merri asked in a low voice. ‘Where does he watch us from?’

Alwynn stared out at where the early-morning sun played on the sea-weathered rocks. Tiny waves licked at the shore, nothing like the gigantic ones which must have hit the beach last night. ‘He watches from somewhere else. We need to pick an entire basket of the sea coal before the sun rises much further. There is a list as long as my arm of things which need to be done today. Gode has gone to see her niece and the farmhands are out helping to shear the sheep. Plus, there is the new wheel at the gristmill that needs to be seen to.’

Alwynn didn’t add that she had no idea how to repair the gristmill properly or do a thousand other practical things. And there was no gold for a steward, even if she could find one she could trust. But they would survive. Somehow.

Merri nodded. ‘It is easier now that Gode has her own cottage. She always tries to stop me from doing the truly interesting things just because she used to be your nurse and you listen to her.’

‘And we will find something to add to your collection—maybe a shell or a feather. But no raven or falcon. We have too many mouths to feed.’

Merri tugged at her sleeve. ‘What is that over there, Stepmother? Is it a man?’

Alwynn stifled a scream. A man’s body lay on the high-tide mark. A length of rope dangled from one arm and his hair gleamed gold in the morning sunlight. But it was his physique—broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist—which held her attention.

For a heartbeat, she wondered what he’d been like in life. He was the sort of man to make a heart stand still.

She shook her head. Really, she was becoming worse than Merri. After Theodbald, she should know a handsome face was no guarantor of a good heart. She had to be practical and hard-hearted, instead of the dreamy soul she used to be. There could be gold or silver, something useful on his person. Anyone else would have no hesitation in searching for it. The poor soul would have no use for it if he was dead.

‘The body will have come in on the storm.’

Merri gulped. ‘Is he...?’

‘Could anyone have survived that storm? In the sea? You know about the rocks.’

‘What shall we do? Get Lord Edwin? You know what he said—no one should remain alive if they wash up on the shore.’

Alwynn tightened her grip on the basket. The last person she wanted to encounter was Edwin and his sneer. He’d claim any treasure on the body as his own.

She’d vowed to starve before she gave in to that man. And while they were not starving, raising the required gold had taken just about everything she possessed.

‘Not yet. There will be time enough for that later. He’d only ask questions...questions about...about the basket of sea coal.’

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