Chapter 14 Queen Emeline #2
I know this isn’t doing me any favors, but I will not roll over.
“I challenge you to that claim as I ask again, the brother you spoke to, who was he?”
Benedict’s interest is piqued, which has me believing every word Brother Maurice said. He must be protected at all costs, for I fear the church’s loyalty will waver if I fail to ensure his safety.
“You are as deaf as you are a fool, for I already told you, I do not know who you speak of.”
Aethelbald exhales slowly. “All right, my queen, let it be your choice then. In front of us stands your most cherished. I demand you choose one to save…and one to slay. A life for a life.”
“I will not!”
He storms forward and purses my cheeks in his hand. “You will so!”
Skarth advances, ready to rip off Aethelbald’s head, but a guard drives the end of his sword into his stomach, winding him.
“It’s an easy choice. Or perhaps you don’t love any at all.”
I know what he’s doing. I am expected to pick Skarth, but he knows that if I choose someone other than him, the person I choose is likely involved with Brother Maurice.
Which is why I cannot choose Benedict. If I do, he will torture him for information, and death will be a mercy.
But who do I sacrifice to save England?
“Is it not enough that I promise to concede?”
“No!” Aethelbald roars, withdrawing his sword and pointing it at me. “Because loyalties still lie with you, and until that is broken, I will never be king!”
“You’re nothing but a spoiled brat having a tantrum,” I reply, unmoved.
I’m biding my time, hoping a plan will unfold soon.
I look at Catherine, my beautiful child, who has grown into a strong woman. She may not be my blood, but that matters not because I see her as my own. But I’ve failed her. I have failed them all.
“I offer my life in place of the others,” Skarth says.
I meet Skarth’s eyes, shaking my head. But he can see my anguish, especially with Catherine’s life on the line.
This isn’t the moment to be chivalrous because I need him to fight beside me. I cannot win without him.
“That is a tempting offer, Viking, and rather valiant of you. Perhaps that would be the best solution, seeing as your sweetling puts your life on par with the others.”
“Guards!”
“No!” I scream, rushing forward, but am stopped by soldiers who apprehend me.
Sigrith soon appears. She watches on with no emotion. I vow here and now that she will pay dearly for this betrayal. “He is your brother!”
She shrugs and withdraws her sword, walking over to Skarth, who is cut loose from the other prisoners. She knows he won’t fight. He will sacrifice his life so I do not have to choose.
My options are only one…
“His name is Brother Maurice!” I cry, shaking free of my captors. “He knows who in the church opposes your rule. I am to ride to the monastery tomorrow to meet them. I do not know who it is. He did not tell me. Only that the church wishes to overthrow our kingdom and rule itself.”
That is a complete fabrication, but I hope to stall and perhaps buy us some time.
Aethelbald mulls over what I shared before he explodes with a roar. He commences hacking into a wooden rafter with his sword, screaming profanities.
I stand back, watching this infant have his wee spat. It seems he believes me.
“This is your fault!” he accuses, glaring at me breathlessly. “And I am sick of being undermined by you. It’s time you understand that I am the one in control, not you. Kill him.”
“No!” I scream, storming for Sigrith.
She ducks out of the way, only for a soldier to take her place.
“It is all right, hugrekki. I will wait for you for an eternity.”
“Do not dare. Fight!” I scream, fighting to get past the two guards who stand in my way. They do not budge, however.
But he doesn’t.
My vision blurs, and a shrill ringing echoes loudly in my ears, in sync with my frantic heart.
“Sigrith! Please! No! Help him!” I beseech her to show him compassion, but she is as cold as this blackest night.
“A life for a life. Choose,” Aethelbald orders, mayhem breaking loose as it pulsates around us.
“I will take great pleasure in cutting out your innards and playing with them!” I scream, rabid as I continue to fight to break free.
Panic saturates the air, and there is no order, merely madness. We are stir-crazy, unsure what the next second brings. Suddenly, a fight breaks out because Aric hacks through his confines. He immediately steals a soldier’s sword and cuts Catherine free.
I watch with heart in my throat as he tosses her the sword, kisses her forehead before she commences fighting, whilst Aric cuts the rest of the prisoners free.
The soldiers don’t stand a chance because Catherine is a skilled fighter, and when her temper is provoked, she is unstoppable. She severs limbs. Impales soldiers on the end of her sword. Aethelbald shoves the men out of the way and swings, about to take off Skarth’s head.
Skarth accepts his fate…
“NO!” I scream, almost blind from hysteria.
“Papa!”
Catherine charges forward, intent on saving Skarth, but those will be her last ever steps because Aethelbald quickly turns, and in one brutal swing, he severs her head from her shoulders.
It rolls along the ground, her long hair appearing as a tumbleweed in the wind as it comes to a stop at my feet.
I meet her large eyes that are caught in the moment of horror forevermore, and her final word, “Papa,” drapes her ruby lips.
“No,” I whisper, refusing to believe the sight before me. I frantically scrub at my eyes, but there is no rubbing away this horrific truth.
“No,” I repeat, shaking my head frantically. “No!”
I drop to my knees, and with trembling hands, I gather Catherine’s head. I hold it between my palms, staring into the eyes of my daughter. “I am eternally sorry. I failed you. I failed to protect you when I promised that I would.”
A single tear trickles down my cheek as I draw her head toward me, and I lay a kiss on her still-warm lips. “I love you, my daughter. You died a warrior, and I promise, I will avenge thee. Wait for me, my child, for I will come meet you soon.”
The fighting has ceased because the gravity of what Aethelbald has done has sunk in. Skarth’s lips move as he mutters something in Norse under his breath. I know he is asking Odin to welcome Catherine into Valhalla.
With her head still in my hands, I slowly rise and don’t waver as I stare Aethelbald down. “She will have a royal funeral, for she was the first woman sworn into knighthood.”
Aethelbald throws his sword into the ground; it is erect in the mud. “She will be laid to rest in the field in an unmarked grave, for she was not of royal blood.”
Skarth clenches his fists as Aric stands beside him. The look he carries is one I know all too well—he will avenge his beloved.
Benedict wipes the vomit from his chin with the back of his hand. He understands what was sacrificed here tonight because it would have been his head if not for Catherine.
“You took a life, now I want one saved!”
“I changed my mind.” Aethelbald doesn’t care. He just killed my child, which means my children are fair game. I believed they were safe, but the rules have suddenly changed.
Aethelbald senses the danger he is in. I can smell his fear, which is why we must go to the monastery tomorrow.
“Come morrow, the church will surrender to your rule. I promise thee. In return, I want Catherine to be buried in the royal cemetery. Next to my mother.” I can’t keep the contempt from my tone because this bastard has taken my family from me, just as I did to him.
I can read the defeat in Aethelbald’s eyes. He needs me because I know something he does not and probably never will, because he knows the brothers would rather cut out their own tongues than divulge their plans.
For once, I have the upper hand.
“Fine. But don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”
He storms off, gesturing that the remaining prisoners are to be brought back to the dungeons.
With Catherine’s head still in my hands, I nod at Skarth, promising we will avenge our daughter and that everything will be all right.
It must be.