Nine
Princess Emeline
I haven’t left his side. I cannot.
All I can see is my brave Northman, sliding off the horse and tumbling to the ground with a brutal thud.
I am angry with myself for not seeing the signs. He wasn’t himself when we fought for our lives. I believed fatigue was the cause, but I now know it was because he was wounded when trying to save me.
That’s all he’s ever done.
He came to Wessex, knowing the consequences. He defied my father. He left his wife. He did all this to rescue me. Usually, I would not appreciate such a gesture as I don’t need any man to come to my aid. But with Skarth, it’s different.
And that’s because I’ve saved him too.
We are equal, something I’ve never been. That was evident when we fought alongside one another. Skarth and I trusted each other, and we got out of the palace—together.
But I failed him.
For he has remained unconscious for three days—the longest three days of my life.
“Why won’t you wake?” I whisper, dabbing his sweaty brow with a damp piece of cloth.
His body is burning up, and I fear infection has set in. I clean his wound with herbs I picked in the herbarium, but nothing seems to help. His condition only worsens.
We rode as far away from Wessex as we could, but with Skarth wounded, we needed to find sanctuary somewhere. And when we came upon a small monastery, we had no other choice but to ask for refuge.
The monks didn’t want any trouble, especially when they saw we rode with a Northman, but Sister Ethelyn promised we wouldn’t cause them any harm. It helped we rode with a servant of the Lord, but I know they watch us closely.
Even though our quarters are underground in the cold, dark cellarium, I’m thankful we have a place to stay. A fire keeps us warm, but Skarth still shivers, even though he has a fever.
“It’s not much,” Raedwulf says, offering me a bowl of clear broth. “But you have to eat, Emeline. I know you are worried, but there is no use in both of you being sick.”
“Thank you.” I accept the bowl, but when my nauseous stomach turns the moment I smell the food, I set it aside.
This has nothing to do with the broth the monks prepared, but rather the fact that I am sick to my stomach with worry. I can’t do anything but keep vigil by Skarth’s side. I pray for a miracle because that’s what we need.
Raedwulf sighs but doesn’t push.
He sits near me, offering me comfort by gently rubbing my arm. “He’s strong. This will pass. Skarth the Godless does not die in the house of the Lord. He will wake.”
I know he’s trying to offer me words of encouragement, but they are words he does not believe as Skarth’s condition only worsens. The wound to his side was deep. I believe it may have punctured an organ. Or maybe two. I don’t know. I’m no physician. I’m just a princess who can’t seem to stay out of trouble.
“Princess—” Raedwulf starts, and I know why he suddenly pauses. “We cannot stay here for much longer. Wessex Guard will be looking for us. We put everyone at risk.”
“If you wish to leave, Raedwulf, then please do what you must. But I’m not going anywhere. Until Skarth awakens, I will remain here.”
“And what if he does not?”
The fire crackles warmly, filling the empty silence.
“He must,” I reply, broken beyond words.
Reaching out with trembling fingers, I gently brush the long hair from his brow.
Seeing Skarth unguarded is a rare thing, and I take a moment to admire the man who has my heart. Even on his deathbed, he takes my breath away. He isn’t sickly. He still radiates strength. His jaw is covered in a thicker beard, but it’s soft and groomed as Skarth takes pride in his appearance. He always has.
The ink markings on his skin still mesmerize me even though I’ve looked at them countless times. I trace my finger along his Aegishjalmr , transfixed by everything it represents.
We are so different—worlds apart—but for some reason, destiny had us meet. It can’t end this way. This can’t have been for nothing. Valhalla will have to wait, for he cannot leave this earth without me telling him, just once…that I love him.
I know he is wed, and no matter my feelings, that doesn’t change who we are. I, a Saxon, and he, a Northman. We don’t belong together. But regardless, I need him to know that doesn’t make a difference, for I will never feel for another as I do for him.
A tear trickles down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away with the back of my hand. “I hate that he’s so still.”
Skarth doesn’t rest. Seeing him this way just feels so unnatural.
“Princess, please, if you will not eat, then you must rest.” Looking up, I see Sister Ethelyn standing close by. I didn’t even hear her enter.
“I cannot do either,” I confess sadly. “How can I when Skarth lies wounded?”
“I understand. But he would not want you to sit here, pining for him. He also would not want you to get sick yourself.”
She’s right.
“I suppose I do need to stretch my legs. But only for a moment.”
Coming to a stand, I stretch the fatigue from my bones as my body whines in protest. I dither on my feet, for I have barely eaten or drunk. Raedwulf gently wraps his arm around me, silently offering support.
“I will escort thee, Princess.”
I allow him to guide me because I fear if it were up to me, I would just turn back around and return to sitting by Skarth’s side.
The monastery is quiet as everyone is asleep.
There is a peace within these walls, and I wish we could stay here forever, but Raedwulf is right. Our time here is running out, and I know the longer we stay, the more danger we put ourselves and the monks in. If they’re found to be harboring outlaws, monks or not, they will be punished.
King Egbert won’t stop until he finds me. He sees me as his property. However, Aethelwulf won’t stop until he gets his revenge for what we did.
I think of Sigrith and how she must suffer for our sins. I also think about how Skarth chose me over her. I know when he wakes, he will never forgive himself for that choice, which is why he must wake and soon so we can rescue Sigrith.
I will not leave her behind.
It’s cool out, and I huddle into Raedwulf’s side. He will be out of favor with my brother and the king for being here. He will be seen as defying the king’s order. I fear that his fate is as dire as mine.
We enter the lush green gardens, and being under the night sky does soothe me. Peering upward, I take a moment to bask in the twinkling of stars. I am a mere speck in the greater scheme of things, and I wish I could just fade away.
But I’ll never have that luxury for as long as I live.
I don’t know what faces me because I don’t belong anywhere. I’m a traitor to both Wessex and Northumbria, so I don’t have the protection of either king. Everything is just a mess.
“Thank you, Raedwulf. You have risked your life for me. This isn’t the first time, however.”
He was the one who came for me when I was locked away in the dungeons. And I thanked him by knocking him out cold.
“You are welcome, Emeline. But wanting to protect you comes instinctively to me.”
His candid confession stuns me.
I attempt to gently pull out of our embrace, but he doesn’t let me go. He puts me out at arm’s length.
“I do not care about your past,” he says, his blue eyes twinkling under the starlight. “I wish for your happiness…and I hope you’ll consider that happiness to be with me.”
I stare at him, mouth agape, unable to speak.
“It is no secret that I have been in love with you”—he clears his throat—“that I love you. And I want you to be my wife.”
I still don’t know what to say.
I’m flattered and incredibly touched, but I do not think of Raedwulf in that way. “Raedwulf, I—”
But he doesn’t let me finish.
He tightens his hold, his desperation showing. “I understand now is not the time to discuss this, but I need you to know why I am here. When Skarth came to me, I did not care about the consequences. You are worth them, Emeline. It’s always been you.
“I will fight your brother and father to protect you. I do not care about the cost. I ask for your hand in marriage, and I promise to honor and protect thee for all the days of my life.”
This is what every girl wishes for. A good, honorable man proposing marriage. Regardless of my past, regardless that I am no longer pure, Raedwulf does not care.
He is handsome, there is no question about it, and I know many ladies at court would kill for such a proposal, but I will not insult Raedwulf by accepting. He deserves someone who wishes to return the devotion, and that is not me.
He reads my silence as shock.
“Take your time, my dereworthy darling. I do not expect an answer right away.” He kisses the back of my hand.
Marrying Raedwulf would be the sensible choice, for my past makes me spoiled goods. But I would rather remain a single woman than marry for convenience or because it’s the practical thing to do.
“I am touched, kind lord.” I curtsey in gratitude, unsure what else to say or do.
The freedom I once felt being out here under the night sky has gone.
“Are you cold, Princess?”
Raedwulf rubs my arms, mistaking the tremor racking my body as a chill caused by the cool breeze.
“Yes, a little.”
His hands on me feel so wrong as his touch doesn’t set me alight. But I don’t make a fuss as I do not wish to wound Raedwulf. He has professed his love and his intent to marry me, so I will not hurt him by pushing him away.
Raedwulf draws me into him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Let us go back inside.”
I don’t argue and allow him to escort me back.
Once I enter the cellarium, the tension eases as it always does when being in proximity to Skarth. I look at Sister Ethelyn with hope, hope that a miracle occurred and Skarth has awakened, but she shakes her head with regret.
I gently unfold myself from Raedwulf’s arms and make my way over to Skarth. Dropping to my knees, I stare at my Northman, wishing to see any changes in his condition.
There are none.
He looks to be lost to a deep sleep.
Sister Ethelyn reaches for my hand, squeezing gently. “All we can do is pray.”
“How can I pray to a God he does not believe in?” I question, beseeching she give me the answers I so desperately seek. “For is he not a sinner in the eyes of our Lord?”
Sister Ethelyn bows her head in servitude. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, Princess. Trust in Him for you are a devout servant and He is most merciful. He sees the sacrifices you make in the name of the Lord and the king.
“He will offer you His strength when you are depleted. But you must not give up on Him, as He will never give up on you.”
Her words offer me some comfort, but it’s difficult to believe in Him when all He seems to do is test me every chance He gets. This is just another hardship. However, it’s one I’m unsure I will survive.
Sister Ethelyn leaves me alone with Skarth as she retires for the evening. She too has risked so much for me. They all have.
Lord Robert stands guard inside the monastery walls, watching for any threats. He barely sleeps or eats as he risks his life to protect me, just how he always has done. We are all traitors to our kingdom.
“How can He be merciful when all He does is take?” I question aloud, not expecting an answer.
Raedwulf sighs heavily before taking his position near the fire. He lies on the ground, drawing a fur over him for warmth. He won’t leave me unattended.
Skarth’s chest rises and falls steadily, confirming that regardless of his motionless state, life flows through his veins. That life force has always sung to mine. I want to feel it.
Raedwulf’s back is turned, but even if it wasn’t, I would still act this way. I lower myself onto the ground and pull back the furs which cover Skarth. He only wears trousers. The fire licks at his bronzed flesh, almost setting it alight.
Fatigue suddenly cripples me, and I give in to temptation, nestling into Skarth’s side. Tucking the furs around us, I place my arm over his chest and curl up beside him, inhaling his earthy scent. Basking in the heat from his soul.
A comfort I’ve not felt before overwhelms me, and I realize that Skarth and I fit in every sense of the word. A small sigh slips past his lips, and I wonder, wherever he’s lost to, if he can feel this too?
This sense of coming home.
I close my eyes, slipping into a slumber as deeply as the man I love.
It’s light when I wake, and I am refreshed. It feels like it’s the first proper sleep I’ve had in years.
Raedwulf has arisen, so he would have seen me curled up beside Skarth. A pang of guilt stabs at me, for I know the sight would have wounded him. But I don’t want him to believe in something that is not there.
Yawning, I sit up and stretch overhead. My sore muscles whine in protest. “Hurry and wake,” I impishly say to Skarth. “For my body cannot take another night sleeping on this cold floor.”
His cheeks appear to have a little more color.
“I’ll be back soon. I need to freshen up.” And after speaking with Sister Ethelyn yesterday, there is something else I must do.
Rearranging the furs around Skarth, I wrap a cloak around my shoulders and slip into my shoes as I fear snow is coming. The monastery is quiet because at first light, the monks spend their time saying prayer or reading text.
I believe it’s too early for morning Mass just yet, which is why I quietly make my way toward the chapel once I have washed and redressed. This is on the north side of the monastery as it does not block the sun from reaching the cloister.
Everything has a place and purpose here. I can’t help but wonder what mine is.
When I enter the chapel, I see that although not donned in gold and jewels, its worth is priceless. The large wooden crucifix sitting on the altar is a beacon of hope for us all. I’m alone, which I’m thankful for as I would like some time alone with my God.
Genuflecting before the altar, I slide across the pew and instantly drop to my knees, interlacing my hands. A stained glass window allows the morning light to send arcs of color across the room, and it gives me hope that not everything is shrouded in shades of blackness.
“Lord God most holy, Lord most mighty, holy and most merciful savior, deliver us from the bitter pains of eternal death,” I whisper under my breath. “Banish the demons which plague me, for I am your dutiful servant.
“I promise to forever be in your service if you grant me this kindness. Skarth is not your child, but he is…he is so important to me. I am supercilious for asking such a favor, but please, kind, loving Lord, please let him wake.
“Please guide him toward the light, not the darkness, for I will perish without him. I will do anything you ask. Just tell me what it is. I will sacrifice everything for him for I…love him.”
I lower my head as I know the sacrilegious act I’ve just committed by confessing to loving a Northman. But I wish to confess it all, so He will see just how much I’m willing to sacrifice. I will accept any punishment He deems fit for my subversion.
And when a bell tolls loudly, it seems He believes my punishment should be delivered sooner rather than later.
The commotion outside can mean only one thing.
“Princess, you must hide!” Raedwulf cries, bursting into the church where I pray.
Standing quickly, I meet him down the aisle, where his grip on my shoulders hints that whatever faces us is dire.
“What faces us?”
“Northmen,” Raedwulf replies, his eyes darting around the room, desperate for a place to hide me. “And many of them.”
But we both know there is no hiding from the Northmen. They are here for riches, in any form they can find.
Breaking free from Raedwulf’s hold, I run from the church as I cannot leave Skarth unguarded. He cannot defend himself, and although he’s a Northman, he’s seen as a traitor for abandoning his people to side with the Saxon king.
They will take great pleasure in killing him.
Monks flurry in every direction, and my heart breaks, for they mean no one any harm. They only wish to live in peace and follow the word of the Lord. They are simple people, and now their blood will stain this holy ground.
But I cannot allow it.
“Princess! Emeline! Don’t thee dare!”
I ignore Raedwulf’s pleas and make haste toward the gatehouse where Lord Robert stands on guard. He is the only one protecting this place of worship. I won’t allow him to sacrifice his life for me.
“Princess!” he exclaims. “You should not be here.”
“Nor should you, Lord Robert,” I reply, standing my ground as the army of Northmen approaches us in the distance. “I cannot allow them to harm him. I cannot allow them to harm any of you.”
Some are on horseback while others are on foot. Their army stands strong and firm. We don’t stand a chance.
“Offer them the heathen. His head is far more valuable than relics which hold no wealth,” Raedwulf orders, but that will not be happening.
Lord Robert waits for my command, but I shake my head.
“Emeline! Do not be stupid. We will die. And for what? For a Northman? I cannot allow it.”
“You do not allow anything. This decision is mine to make,” I reply, my gaze never wavering from the Northman formation. They move with precision and skill—no wonder no army but one led by their own can defeat them.
I’m almost hypnotized by the sight because I’ve never seen so many Northmen before. They draw closer and closer, and clutching the crucifix around my throat, I take my first step toward the unknown.
Lord Robert and Raedwulf follow, but they stay behind me, for I will not be stopped. The Northmen are close.
“Princess, if you do not retreat, they will slaughter us all.”
“Then make peace with your God, Raedwulf, for I will not surrender.”
I escort the men into the grassy knolls, where I come to a stop. The Northmen approach, and my attention is riveted on the impressive man who rides a white horse. I take a guess that he is their leader.
Skarth has told me stories of his people and their curious nature, so I have faith interest will override greed. I have faith this Northman will want to know why a young woman dares to stand in his way.
“They will kill us.” Raedwulf’s cowardness just confirms I could never marry him. I would rather die on my feet than live on my belly—words I’ll die by.
I stand tall, the wind rustling my hair as I do not waver. I dare not breathe as the Northman gets closer and closer. The horses’ hooves vibrate all the way to my very core, and the energy I feel at being faced with impending death excites me.
The Northman does not slow down. And I do not tremble in fear as I meet his sharp blue eyes.
Raedwulf flees, his frantic footsteps reverberating in the grass. I don’t blame him for being afraid. Lord Robert doesn’t leave me, however. He was born for battle, as was I.
The assembly of men and women is vast. Their faces are painted unforgivingly, prepared to scare the enemy into defeat. But I know this is a war tactic the Northmen use, so I continue to stand strong. Their colorful shields are raised as they are ready for battle, but when their leader raises his sword toward the heavens, pulling back his horse, they soon cease-fire—for now.
The man clucks his tongue, his horse obeying and slowing to a trot. He stops when a few feet away.
He does not speak.
Nor do I.
I take a moment to study him.
His long blond hair is cut and styled similarly to Skarth’s, but it is lighter in color. His face is sharp. His eyes incredibly blue. His full lips appear quite pink because of the dirt slathered on his skin.
Openly staring at a strange man is quite unladylike, but I won’t submit. If this man wants to kill me, then let him look me in the eyes when he does.
“Is there a reason you stand in my way?” he asks with an accent akin to Skarth’s.
Swallowing down my nerves, I nod. “I will not allow you to harm anyone inside the monastery’s walls.”
The man cocks his head to the side before a deep rumble spills from him.
“Allow me?” he challenges with a crooked smirk. “How do you propose to stop me?”
He is trying to intimidate me, but I cannot back down. “By the order of the king, I demand thee leave.”
“The king?” he scoffs, turning over his shoulder and laughing joyously with his assembly. “I plan on paying him a visit after we leave here. I will be sure to pass on your well wishes.”
“Mock me, Northman,” I state, pulling back my shoulders. “But I am the Princess of Northumbria, and you, merely an ignorant heathen. You do not scare me.”
“Princess,” Lord Robert warns under his breath, for he knows what I’ve just done.
“Princess?” the Northman says, his interest instantly piqued as I knew it would be. “You are far from home.”
“You are right. I am. I was once the future Queen of Wessex, but now”—I swallow down my disgust for this is the only way to save him—“now…I am the king’s whore.”
A gasp leaves Lord Robert as he was not aware of my situation, and his surprise is what proves to the Northman that I speak the truth.
“I have escaped the palace. The king’s guard hunts me. I am worth far more than any riches you’ll find within the monastery walls. Take me in exchange for the lives of the innocent men whose only fault was granting me sanctuary.”
The Northman weighs over what I shared.
“Ulf, no,” says a warrior woman behind him. She is beyond beautiful, but I don’t mistake her beauty for meekness. “Kill her and be done with it.”
But with eyes locked on the Northman leader, Ulf, I know he won’t kill me—yet.
With grace, he dismounts the horse and closes the distance between us. I remain calm.
He towers over me, not just in height but in physique as well. If not for the fact that my life is in danger being in his presence, I would say he is quite comely, even with the large scar running down his left cheek. But I know better than to let that affect my judgment.
“Indeed, you do not fear me. You have been around my people before?”
This is what I fear. I cannot let him know Skarth is the reason I do not cower.
“Northman, you are called monsters, but I have looked into the eyes of evil, and yours do not compare.”
“I don’t believe you,” he challenges, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I think you have learned the way of our world, for I have never met a Saxon who didn’t fear us.”
I need to think quickly, which is why I remove my cloak. Ulf watches with interest as I lower the top of my dress and turn my back so he can see the scars my brother left.
“Courtesy of my brother who threatened to degrade me in other ways if I did not submit to his cruel ways.”
Lord Robert’s jaw clenches as this is the first time he’s seen the true extent of my brother’s malice.
In case Ulf needs more proof, I turn around to face him once again and pull up the hem of my dress to my knees so he can see my shins.
“And these”—I say, showing him the jagged scars on my legs—“are thanks to my husband at the time who broke my legs to stop me from escaping.”
I don’t want pity, so I drop my hem.
“And there are others scars, ones which you cannot see, for he is buried in an unmarked grave. He was taken before he had a chance to live.” I sniff back my tears.
The once turbulent field is now quiet, for my confession has stunned them into silence.
Ulf appears to digest everything I’ve shared. I hope it’s enough because if he decides to storm the monastery, the blood spilled will be on my hands.
But a miracle suddenly occurs…
“All right, Princess. You have a deal.”
The woman who objected curls her lip, disgusted with the trade. But Ulf doesn’t allow her abhorrence to change his mind.
“I will spare the life of these people and leave their sanctuary intact. But if I find out you are lying…I will come back and torture them in ways that would have them wishing I’d killed them the first time we met. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do.” I will agree to anything to keep them, to keep him , safe.
Lord Robert steps forward but knows he’s no match for the army of Northmen. “I will find you, Princess. I promise.”
The truth is, neither of us knows what I’ll face. But at least I leave here without any bloodshed. “Thank you, Lord Robert. Go back to Northumbria. My father will show you clemency, for you were always his favorite, as you are mine.”
The brave guard nods with tears in his kind eyes.
I wait for a command, as Ulf is now my master. I promised I’d never submit to any man, but to save the life of the man I love, I’m now, yet again, a prisoner.
A boorish man appears, gripping my arm as he snaps a metal collar around my neck. I don’t fight him. I allow him to shackle me. His touch is cruel, but something else is behind Ulf’s inquisitive eyes, something I can’t quite place.
The man threads a rope through the hoop on the collar and drags me toward his horse. “Let’s go… Princess ,” he mocks, mounting his horse as I remain shackled by his side.
Taking one last look at the monastery, with a beam of light breaking through the thick clouds and shining down onto the cellarium’s roof, I walk with pride toward the unknown.