They are ready for battle.
I’m led like a dog on a leash through the palace, humiliated as my court watches on. They are cowards as they do nothing. But I will remember their faces and ensure they pay dearly for their betrayal. Aethelbald smirks when he sees me being led on a chain.
I’m surprised to see Skarth, Aric, Lord Louis, Alruna, and Benedict. But they’re coming along as Aethelbald’s insurance. With them in tow, he knows my acting out will be minimal. But it’s not guaranteed.
This is the only chance I have to escape.
Regardless of my restraints, the hairpin I stole from Sigrith, which is hidden in my palm, is the reason I am so certain of my freedom. It will take all day to ride to the monastery, which gives me ample time to pick the lock on my shackles and set myself free.
My friends look exhausted and beaten.
Skarth, however, looks ready to burn down the world.
He, too, knows this is our only opportunity for escape because once we reach the monastery, an all-out war will erupt. Skarth knows me well, and he would have guessed that sending Aethelbald to the monastery is a trap.
As always, when we go into battle, we are unsure whether we will come out the victor. But like all wars we’ve fought, we fight for our freedom and to defeat the malevolent.
But this time, there is so much more to lose.
My children’s lives are on the line, for failure means their death. Or if Aethelbald uncovers my deceit, he will ensure my children suffer for my lies.
The mood is somber.
Soldiers are aware that this battle will be one in which lives will be lost. Under my rule, at least they fought for justice and growth. But under Aethelbald, they merely feed his greed.
Mounting our horses, we ride toward the monastery, unsure what the next few hours hold.
Aethelbald rides with me.
Sigrith is with Skarth.
The silence is deafening as we’re all deep in thought.
Aethelbald isn’t his usual confident self. Perhaps he is having second thoughts.
I wonder what comes of my friends King Raedwulf and King Beornwulf.
Aethelbald hasn’t forgotten about them. I believe he is keeping his playing hand close to his chest because the more pawns he has, the greater chance that I will submit.
Also, they have armies behind them.
Aethelbald knows that without the church's blessing, his rulership is weak, and Wessex and Mercia would defeat Northumbria’s army.
He must prove himself. And he cannot do that without the backing of the church and Northumbria. I am a thorn in his side that he needs.
This is why he keeps my nearest and dearest alive. They are merely pawns he can use as collateral.
As we ride over the hill, the monastery is illuminated by the setting sun. It appears as if the hand of God himself touches down on the building, granting those inside protection.
I can only hope He, too, looks down on me with such clemency.
As we pass a thick wall of greenery, my heart sinks because hundreds of Northumbrian soldiers emerge.
Aethelbald notices the shift in my mood. “Just as a precaution,” he has the gall to say. “If what you say is true, then a mere conversation is what is needed to put this confusion to rest.”
He is fooling no one.
I don’t humor him with a response because, regardless of his army, he forgets who trained them and who knows how they fight.
