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She gave a small shake of her head. She hated to think what her mother would have said about her daughter, a woman with royal Idling blood in her veins, actually scavenging bits of flotsam and jetsam up from a beach. In her mother’s world, high-born women stitched fine tapestries for the home or church and ran well-ordered estates. They most definitely did not dirty their hands with sea coal.
Her mother had never had to survive after her husband died suddenly, leaving a mass of unpaid debts. But Alwynn had—selling off all that she could while still managing to retain the hall and some of the estate.
‘I do what I have to do! How can I ask others if I refuse to do it myself?’ Alwynn bent down, defiantly picked up a lump of sea coal and held it aloft before placing it in a basket.
If the harvest proved profitable and everyone paid their rents on time, her trouble would be behind her and she could leave the sea coal to others. In due course Merri might even be able to have a decent dowry and the chance of finding a worthy husband. For herself, she simply wanted to be left in peace to cultivate her garden. She wanted the freedom to choose whom she would marry or even whether she would marry. Or if she should enter a convent or not. But for now, she needed every lump.
‘You see, I was right!’ Merewynn ran up and plopped a double handful of sea coal into the basket. Her blonde curls escaped from the couvre-chef that Alwynn had insisted her stepdaughter wear. Merewynn would be ten in the autumn. It was time she started to act like a young woman, instead of a wild thing who roamed the moors. ‘Lots of pickings after a summer storm. We might even find treasure and then you wouldn’t have to worry so much about the render you owe the king. It is a wonder we never came down here before. Such fun!’
‘Mind you keep close, Merri. And no animals rescued. Our new hall is overcrowded as it is.’
Merewynn pulled a face. ‘If we look, I’m sure we can find a little space. A mouse wouldn’t take up much room. Or maybe a raven. I’ve always wanted a pet raven. And there is no Father Freodwald to complain about the mess now.’
Alwynn schooled her features. Their current priest had complained a great deal and it had been a relief when he departed for another longhouse. Someone else would have to provide the large amounts of ale, sweetmeats and blazing fires to warm his bones that the priest demanded as his due. It had been a shock because the old priest had been entirely different. ‘The bishop holds him in high esteem.’
‘But he dislikes ravens. St Oswald’s bird. Can you believe it? He said they nip fingers and make a mess everywhere.’
‘Just so we are clear.’ Alwynn put her hand on her hip and gave Merri a hard stare. ‘We are here to find things to put to practical use, not more animals for your menagerie. I’ll not have more land taken from us. You need to have a decent dowry when the time comes. On my wedding day, I promised to look after you as if you were my own.’
Merri gave a deep sigh. ‘I liked it better when you didn’t have to be practical, Stepmother. Sometimes it takes a little while before you realise you need something and then...’ She snapped her fingers. ‘A raven could be trained to send messages. If the Northmen attempt to attack, we could release it and it’d fly straight away to King Athelfred and he could pray to St Cuthbert to send another storm and...’
‘You are asking a lot of this unknown raven.’
‘Ravens are like that and I want to be prepared in case the Northmen come to murder us in our beds.’ Merri gave a mock shiver.
‘After last year’s storm, it will be a while before they try to attack again. They lost a number of ships and their leader. Remember what the king said.’
‘Or maybe we could find a falcon with a hurt wing,’ Merri continued on. ‘It could belong to an atheling who would fall instantly in love with you and we will all live happily ever after. You could even become queen.’
‘You listen to far too many tales, Merri. The king is my distant cousin. I wish him a long life.’
‘The atheling could come from another kingdom. One without a good king.’
‘Merri!’
‘Well...’ The girl gave an impudent smile. ‘It could happen.’
Alwynn glanced down at her woollen dress. With three patches and a stained lower skirt, it had definitely seen better days. And she wasn’t going to think about Edwin’s disreputable offer to become his mistress after the king confirmed him as the new overlord in this area. He was from the same sort of mould as her late husband—more interested in his advancement than the welfare of others. She shuddered to think that as a girl she’d begged her father to allow her to marry Theodbald. He’d seemed so kind and handsome with his little daughter cradled in his arms.
‘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.’
Merri nodded. ‘Good. I don’t like him.’
‘Few do.’
Alwynn swallowed hard. She hated that she’d come to this—robbing the dead. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists. She could do it. She repeated the promise she had made when she discovered the extent of Theodbald’s treachery—she would survive and Merri would marry well. One man’s debauchery would not ruin any more lives.
‘You remain here, Merri,’ she said, tucking an errant strand of black hair behind her ear. Silently she willed her stomach to stop heaving. She had tended the dead before. ‘Then you can truthfully say you had nothing to do with the body.’
‘Day by day you become more like Gode.’
‘Trust me. You want to keep away.’ Alwynn knelt down so her eyes were level with Merri’s. ‘If anyone says anything, you are blameless.’
‘I’m involved.’ Merri twisted away and kicked a stone, sending it clattering along the beach. ‘I know what my father did. If anything, I should be protecting you. He is the one who cheated you and left you with a mountain of debts. Everyone says it when your back is turned.’
Alwynn put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Silently she prayed Merri remained in ignorance of most of it—the bullying, the whoring and the gambling which had racked up the debts. ‘The past, Merewynn. I’m concentrating on the present.’
‘If the warrior is alive, will you save him? Or will you hit him on the head like Lord Edwin commanded everyone to do?’
‘He will be dead,’ Alwynn stated flatly.
‘Lord Edwin is wrong. Surely you should know if a man is guilty before you kill him. Otherwise you become a murderer. You become like the Northmen.’
Alwynn put her hand on Merri’s shoulder. Her sentiments exactly. ‘That’s right. If he is alive, we nurse him back to health.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise, sweetling.’ Alwynn knelt beside Merri and gathered her hands within hers. ‘But don’t get your hopes up.’
‘If he is dead, can I have his sword? I can see it gleaming in the sunlight next to him. I could start learning how to use it. I’ve no desire to be a nun!’
‘Merri!’
With her cheeky smile, the girl appeared unrepentant. Alwynn sighed. Merri knew precisely how to wrap her around her little finger, always had...from the very first time they met. She had been the one bright light in her marriage and she could not have loved her more if she’d been her own.
‘If you want me to stay away from the body, you have to promise me something.’ Merri tapped her fingers against her mouth. ‘I’m not good without a cause.’
‘Be good for me and we will have a decent meal tonight.’
Merri’s eyes lit up. ‘Something other than yesterday’s pottage?’
‘I promise. I will make some of the singing cakes you love so much.’
Merri screwed up her face. ‘But I want the sword as well. You sold all my father’s swords. How can we hope to hold the estate without a sword? People want a strong lord or otherwise they might not pay what they owe us.’
‘Which people are you talking about?’
‘You know...I hear rumours.’
‘You shouldn’t listen to servants’ gossip.’
Alwynn hugged her arms about her waist and turned her mind away from the problems which had plagued her for the past few months. They could wait until she’d investigated the body.
No man could have survive that storm. And she hated the thought of robbing the dead but she was certain she could see the dull gleam of gold on one of his fingers. Anyone else would have no hesitation. And once she had searched the body, she’d arrange for a decent burial. It was more than most would do. But it didn’t make her any easier. A distinct feeling of being unclean crept over her.
‘If he has a sword, we sell it. Swords are not for young ladies from a good family. Ladies become peace-weavers and woo with gentleness.’
Merri squatted down, resting her chin on her knees. ‘Then you’d best hope he is alive as I’m never going to be a peace-weaver. I’m going to learn how to fight and regain the fortune my father lost.’
Rather than answering, Alwynn made her way to the body. Up close, he was even more magnificent. The seawater had moulded his tunic to his torso and she could see the muscles of his back. A man to take your breath away. Or break your heart.
‘Right, I’m going to turn you over.’
She reached down and touched his sun-warmed shoulder.
His hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. Alwynn stifled a scream as she broke free and retreated a step.
The man was no corpse. He was alive!
Everything altered. She might be willing to rob a dead man, but not someone who lived and breathed. And she knew she could not do as Lord Edwin commanded. She was a healer at heart, not a murderer.
‘Easy now, I mean you no harm.’ She placed a firm hand on his shoulder. The muscles rippled under her palm, but they eased.
He gave a slight groan as she pushed him until he lay on his back.
‘Do you understand? I want to help you.’
She looked directly into his face. The face of a rugged warrior, one which had been tempered by time, but remained attractive. She hated to think what he’d been through out on the rough sea last night. His face sported several bruises and his arms were scraped raw where he had been dashed against the rocks. There were no obvious signs of internal injuries, but his blue-tinged lips revealed that he must be close to death.
His startling brown eyes held a mute appeal. Her heart twisted. She wanted to save him and not just because she’d promised Merri. She could spend days staring into those eyes. She shook her head to clear it. It made little sense. This man was a complete stranger.
‘I want to help,’ she said softly. ‘I want to get you somewhere where you’ll be safe. If you stay here, you will die and I think you want to live.’
Chapter Two (#ulink_1c5ffb15-78b4-5877-8714-7f0e5f99e1c2)
Alwynn sat back on her heels. A light breeze blew across her face and the clouds skittered across the blue sky. The warrior was alive and in need of urgent help, but not here. Not on this beach, not ever.
She and Merri were alone on the stretch of sand, but other beachcombers would arrive soon. And they would follow Edwin’s orders, rather than help her save the life of an unknown warrior. She knew that instinctively.
A cold shiver went down Alwynn’s spine. They would be here at any moment. And once he was discovered, someone would act...unless she acted first.
‘Merri, I need your help. You must be very brave, sweetling, and obey me without question.’
Merri reached her side in a heartbeat. ‘He is alive? Is he a prince?’
‘Barely.’ Alwynn automatically straightened Merri’s couvre-chef. ‘And I think he is a warrior of some sort, probably foreign. But well-to-do. The sword is silver encrusted and he wears arm rings.’
Merri’s eyes grew wide. ‘A Northman? You aren’t going to tell me to leave so you can run him through with his sword, are you? You promised to save his life. You can’t be like all the other adults.’
Alwynn slowly shook her head. Perhaps she should be, but something deep within her revolted at the thought of killing an innocent man. ‘There isn’t any sign of a boat. Or other people. Northmen travel in packs. We learnt that from Lindisfarne and the raid last year.’
‘Or any other corpses!’ There was no mistaking the ghoulish delight in Merri’s voice. ‘If it was a boat, there would be more bodies on the beach. They said dozens were washed up last year and those who had not drowned had their heads cut off.’
‘Merri! Who have you been talking to? Neither of us were on the beach then! I sent the steward!’
‘Oswald, Oswy the Gristmiller’s son. He knows these things.’ Merri tapped a finger against her lips. ‘Why did this warrior fall off his ship?’
Alwynn swallowed hard and tried to control the knot in her stomach. Her parents would have told her to tell the authorities. Lord Edwin was the new authority in this part of Northumbria and she knew what his answer would be. But when had following the rules ever brought her any happiness? The last thing she wanted was this man’s death on her conscience.
‘Since when do Northmen travel alone? Or fall from ships?’ Alwynn dusted her hands on her apron. She knew all about Northmen and their ways. One of her cousins had survived the Lindisfarne raid. She had heard all about how the Northmen attacked without warning or provocation. And the butchery. How they had no pity for anyone else, let alone God’s servants. If this man was a Northman, innocent or not, she’d have no hesitation, but...
