Chapter 2 #2
The ealdormen gasp, crossing themselves at the blasphemy I speak. They all know who my sons’ father is. Even though no one dares to speak it, they know my children have Northmen blood.
I’ve not been challenged because no one has the guts to do so. So these weak men obey me with their tails between their legs, fearful of the wrath I will deliver to them and their household if they defy me.
I have Wessex and Mercia on my side. I am too powerful for these men to fight me because what army could they form? The Danes fight for me. As do the Irish because we wish to coexist. It is these old-minded men who cannot let go of the past.
“My Queen…”
“How is your son, Lord Stephan, Lord Rufus? I saw his bride, Lady Geraldine, the daughter of the Duke of York, a few days back. She’s with child. I believe she is having a strapping young lad. I have a way of guessing these things. She is due in a few months’ time?”
Lord Rufus pales, for this is an outright threat. He wants to meddle in my personal affairs, then I can meddle right back—with my blade as I cut his son’s throat and stab through the belly of his first grandchild, and make him watch.
I do not wish for the blood of the innocent to be spilled, but I will do what I must.
“Yes, my Queen, that is correct.”
“I shall send my regards to them and Lady Geraldine’s family in York. And what of your wife, Lady Martha? How is she faring with her ailments?”
Lord Rufus is barely holding it together. I know all about him and his family and will use them as collateral just as he has with mine.
He needs to know that if I am to agree to this, it will not be me surrendering.
“Yes, that seems fair,” says Lord Gunter with a firm nod.
He does not know that the father of my sons is a Dane. He would not be so quick to agree otherwise.
“Excellent.”
“My lord—” Lord Rufus interjects, but this marriage has nothing to do with him. It is between Prince Ludwig’s adviser and me.
I sign my name at the bottom of the parchment with nothing but a smirk. My terms seem innocent enough, which is why Lord Gunter ignores Lord Rufus’s pleas and signs next to my name.
Little does he know, he has just signed his Prince’s death warrant because once I find my children, I plan to kill them all.
Lord Rufus glares at me.
I merely smile in response. “Why the sour face, Lord Rufus? It is a time for celebration, for I have made passage to see my future king.”
“Now?” he questions, paling further.
“I just cannot wait to meet him,” I gush, interlacing my hands over my heart like a lovestruck fool.
Lord Gunter claps happily, while my ealdormen appear to have suffered heart failure. It is a sight I will treasure.
“I ride to East Frankia with a small army. In my absence, my mother, the queen’s mother, will sit on the throne.”
Lord Rufus sags, needing to hold the back of a chair for support because by attempting to “save” Northumbria, he has just condemned it to a fate far worse than a woman ruling it—he has agreed to see it ruled by a Northman.
This ensures my safety as well as my sons’ because I know Lord Rufus, and he will never accept Skarth or my sons as king. Neither would the ealdormen.
I am the better choice out of a “rotten batch.”
This allows me some time. But I know these men will conspire for another ploy to overthrow me.
I just need to get to them first.
I fold the parchment and stamp it with my royal seal. The red wax seems fitting as it drips, sealing Northumbria’s fate…for now, at least.
“You will ride with my men and me?”
I coyly brush my fingers through my hair. “That would be rather uncouth, my lord. What would my people say if they knew I was riding with my future husband’s adviser before meeting my husband? No, I will ride with my men to East Frankia, so I may prepare my arrival as a queen should.”
“Of course, my Queen. Forgive me for suggesting such talk.”
“A small oversight, lord. You are forgiven.”
Lord Rufus clutches at his chest. “Are you well, Lord Rufus? Do you need to sit?”
My words are rolled in sarcasm, and only he and I know it. I don’t believe the other ealdormen are involved in the taking of my children. They may despise me, but they can see the choices I make are for Northumbria, as she has never been stronger under my reign.
They just hate that that is the case, thanks to a woman ruler. I can only hope the future is brighter for the female race.
“I am well, thank you. Well enough to accompany you on your passage to East Frankia.”
“That will not be necessary,” I counter. There is no way he is coming to spy on me.
“I insist.”
Lord Louis shifts, aware of what Lord Rufus is doing.
“I require you to remain in Northumbria and attend to my mother,” I order firmly. “She will need your guidance and intelligence on matters she may not be familiar with.”
His lips draw into a thin line, but he knows better than to disobey a direct order from his queen.
When I make it clear this is nonnegotiable, he bows.
“Splendid. I will prepare for the passage immediately.”
I make it clear that this meeting is adjourned when I stand and gesture to Lord Louis that he is to escort me. Lord Gunter is elated as he safely pockets the parchment and returns to East Frankia with good news.
As I pass Lord Rufus, he steps close and whispers, “Northumbria is in good hands, my Queen.”
I don’t allow my anger to shine because this arsehole is trying to bait me. I simply smile sharply and leave the room before I do something rash. Catherine waits for me in the corridor. I have taught her well, as no one would suspect what we have planned by looking at her.
She smiles and walks beside me in silence.
My court bows as I pass them. I have their respect, but I’m unsure it will remain the same once I return.
I must find Mother. And there is only one place to look.
The moment I enter the chapel, I peer at the floor, which has been scrubbed clean of any evidence to condemn me for my sins. I wonder what happened to Jethro. But I have other pressing matters to deal with, like my mother.
“Mother, forgive me for interrupting prayer, but I must speak with you.”
She kneels, her hands interlaced, holding her rosary beads. After everything she has been through, she still believes He is salvation. She is a better woman than I am.
Once she finishes the last of her prayers, she crosses herself and stands. “What is it, Emeline? You look pale. Are you well?”
“I am fine, Mother. But I must leave Northumbria. I have agreed to marry Prince Ludwig.”
My mother adjusts her blue veil, appearing to need a moment to digest what I just shared. “Emeline, you forget I reared you in my belly. I saw you defy every man in your life and win. Therefore, tell me what you need from me.
“I do not wish to know the details of your journey. For I suspect the less I know, the better?”
She speaks freely as we are amongst friends. She understands that this marriage is just a ploy.
“In my absence, I need you to take my place as queen. I don’t know how long I will be gone. But I do not trust another. Will you do this for me? And for your kingdom?”
Mother clutches the beads in her hand, asking for strength, perhaps? “Yes, my child, I will, for I know you would not leave your kingdom unless the circumstances were dire. Your father—”
“Do not speak of him,” I snarl, not interested in hearing his name. “He was never a father to me. Have you forgotten so soon that he sold me like nothing but an animal at market?”
I know I wounded her with my words because she, too, was at fault for not fighting for me when I needed her to.
“I’m sorry, Daughter. Forgive me. I shall do what must be done. Go in God’s good grace. I shall see you when you return.”
So much plagues my mother, and although still beautiful, that beauty is now replaced with an ever-present sadness. She too has lost so much—her husband and son, a son whom I killed. I have banished her grandchildren from ever entering the palace. But she understands why.
But that does not mean she is not resentful that her only daughter will not be tamed. She submitted to a man, which I never have. Nor will I ever. I do not cower. I learned from her that I would never be that woman.
She cups my cheeks and lays a tender kiss on my forehead. “Safe passage, my child. Godspeed.”
My mother has never shied away from affection. That is one thing I can thank her for, because if both my parents had been cruel, I do not know the woman I would have grown into.
Lord Louis assures my mother that his best men will protect her and Northumbria.
My mother doesn’t ask about Sune and Loki, and that’s because she knows they are gone. She is right—the less she knows, the better, for she will have no information to give if interrogated. But I will not allow that to befall her.
I will return soon enough.
I gather the things I need for my journey and meet Lord Louis, Catherine, and four men by the gates. I am filled with pride to see Catherine in full armor. I don’t say a word, however.
“Where do we ride, my Queen?” asks Lord Louis quietly.
He has chosen men we can trust, so I know he speaks with caution in case Lord Rufus or his spies are nearby.
Mounting my horse, I stroke over his black mane lovingly. “There is only one place.”
The men wait with breathless anticipation.
“We ride to Daneland…and hope they welcome us.”
“And if they do not?” the man with a ginger beard asks.
“Then we fight.”
I understand this means undoing all the progress made with the Danes, but nothing matters more than my finding Sune and Loki.
“If you do not wish to ride, then now is the time. I give you this now, but now only. For there will not be another chance.”
The men bow in servitude. “We live to serve you, my Queen.”
And that is all I need.
I do not make a grand exit. I simply ride into the night, hopeful that when I return, it will be with my sons.