“He’s sparing four warriors.” Osana’s reply tasted sour as she spoke. “I’ll not come to any harm on the road to Jedworth.”
“You don’t want me with you.” The hurt in Lora’s voice penetrated the veil of anger around Osana. She put down the tunic she had been about to pack and crossed the space between them. She then put her arms around Lora, hugging her tightly.
“I’ll miss you,” she replied, and she meant it too. Lora had become closer to her than any of her sisters ever had. She would miss her easy banter, her laugh, and her mischievous sense of humor. “But this is where our paths must split. You belong here in Bebbanburg.”
Lora disentangled herself, scrubbing away tears. “Why do you say that? I have no more bond with this place than you do.”
Osana shook her head, smiling. “You have Cerdic.”
Lora snorted. “Why do you keep bringing him up? He’s not my man.”
“No … but he could be.”
Lora snorted, brushing at the tears that now trickled down her cheeks. “You make it sound like the man has been throwing himself at my feet. He hasn’t.”
Osana forced a smile. “Give Cerdic time. Maybe you need to offer him some encouragement.”
Lora sniffed and favored her with a watery smile of her own. “Why don’t you try that with Aldfrith?”
Osana shook her head, her smile fading. “He wants to live in a world he can control … there is no place for me here.”
The first fingers of dawn were lightening the eastern sky, turning the sea to molten gold, when Osana saddled her palfrey and readied herself to leave.
Four of the king’s men waited impatiently for her in the stable yard. Jedworth was a little over a day’s ride inland from Bebbanburg, and they were keen to arrive there as soon as possible.
Cerdic led the escort. Osana was relieved that Aldfrith had asked his most trusted warrior to accompany her. Cerdic said little, yet she had not lied when she had told Lora she thought him a good man. She was relieved he was with her today.
She led her palfrey out of its stall and into the yard beyond. A breeze tugged at her cloak as she mounted. Although the morning was chill, the sky above had a limpid quality that promised a beautiful day.
Osana adjusted her stirrups and glanced up at where the Great Tower of Bebbanburg loomed above her. Gilded by the dawn light, it was a breathtaking sight. This place had been her home for the past few months, and despite everything, she had been the happiest here of anywhere since childhood.
Disappointment filtered in, dimming the anger that still clenched her belly. She had dared hope to settle in this place but now realized that that hope had been a foolish one. She should not have put her fate in the hands of others.
Osana drew in a deep breath and looked away from the tower. There was no sign of the king. He would not come out to see her off.
From this day forth things would change. From now on she would be her own mistress. Happiness would come from small pleasures, in carving a simple life for herself. She had never been to Jedworth, and had not seen her aunt Hagona in nearly a decade, but she would make her new life work.
She had no other choice.
Even so, the decision did not make Osana feel any better. A dull ache had taken up residence under her ribs. She wished to weep, to rage against the world, to beat at it with her fists—but she would hold on to her tears for a while yet.
I’ll weep when I’m far from here.
“Osana.” Cerdic’s gruff voice reached her. She turned to find him watching her, sympathy in his dark eyes. “Are you ready?”
Osana nodded before gathering the reins and urging her palfrey forward. Without uttering a word, she rode out under the high gate and did not look back.
Aldfrith crossed the hall, his wolfhound at his heels.
Lady Eldrida was waiting for him upon the high seat. This morning the girl looked impossibly young, around sixteen years his junior. Pity stirred within Aldfrith at the sight of her: small and elfin, her tiny frame swamped in the pale tunic she wore.
Poor child.
They had brought her here like a breeding sow, offering her up to him with no thought to her feelings on the matter.
All the same, he had noted the evening prior that Eldrida was not like his previous wife, Cuthburh. This maid seemed keen to wed him. She had appeared crestfallen when he had exchanged sharp words with the bishop the night before, her mouth trembling as if she might weep.
Eldrida looked brighter this morning though. She smiled at Aldfrith as he approached. However, the faces of the men flanking her were less welcoming. They barely restrained their glowers as he stepped up onto the high seat.
