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Wulfhere swung around. “Mother! And you have Aisley and Diera with you.” He placed his hand on his chest. “My relief knows no bounds. When I could not find you in the great hall, I did not know what had become of you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aisley asked.

“Acquiring mounts so that we may escape this madness, of course.” He took the saddle from the stableboy and began threading the straps through the buckle. “I am glad you were wise enough to come directly to the stable.”

Aisley glanced at the horse before her, her indignation rising. “One mount, Wulfhere? If we had not come at this precise moment, were you planning on leaving without us?”

“That is quite enough, Aisley,” their mother interrupted. “We should be immensely grateful that in all the commotion, we have found each other.”

Aisley could barely speak. Was her mother truly so blind to Wulfhere’s selfishness?

“Three more mounts, boy!” Wulfhere yelled. “And blankets.”

The boy scurried off into the darkness, and Wulfhere went back to buckling the saddle. Diera was standing beside their mother, her arms wrapped around herself. Aisley could not tell if it was the cold or fear that brought about her sister’s quiet whimpers, but whatever amount of those things Aisley may have experienced over the last little while had now been replaced by a burning fury.

“Tell me, Wulfhere,” she said, “how is it that of all the king’s thegns, you are the only one not battling the Vikings in the great hall?”

Wulfhere snorted. “If you believe I am the only nobleman to escape that madness, you are delusional.”

“You kissed the goblet. You accepted the ring-giver’s gift, and by so doing, you pledged your devotion. It is your duty to protect the king.”

“Really, Aisley.” Their mother’s voice rang with disapproval. “Your understanding of such things is far too limited for you to judge Wulfhere’s actions. He is fulfilling his duty to protect his mother and sisters. That is quite enough.”

No, it was not. But at this moment, arguing was counterproductive. The boy hurried into the light, drawing three mares behind him. Aisley reached for the blanket on the closest horse and set it across Diera’s shoulders. Her sister drew the malodorous covering closer—a sure sign that she had yet to recover from the chill outside.

“I thank you,” Aisley told the boy.

He bobbed his head. “Of course, mistress.”

The door flew open, and half a dozen people entered on the run.

“Mounts, lad!” The first man was out of breath. “As quickly as you can!”

“Aye, sire.” The boy disappeared.

Keeping his back to the newcomers, Wulfhere helped himself to another of the saddles lining the wall. “Assist Mother and Diera onto the mares, Aisley,” he said. “We are quitting this place directly.”

CHAPTER 15

BRECC CRACKED OPEN THE BARN door and peered outside. The sounds of battle continued from the great hall, muffled by the thick wall that now separated them. The king stood at his side, waiting. Behind them, the cattle looked on in silence, their eyes shining eerily in the darkness.

“Are we clear?” King Alfred asked.

“It appears that way.” They should move quickly. Time was against them, and Rheged and the queen had obviously made their escape already. Yet Brecc hesitated. If there was anything worse than leading the king into the unknown, it was doing so unarmed. Brecc turned to scour the barn. The sliver of moonlight entering through the crack in the door illuminated the nearest wall. Three buckets, a spade, and two pitchforks. Crossing the short distance between them in three long paces, he grabbed a pitchfork.

“I will take the other one,” the king said.

Brecc passed the rudimentary tool to the king. “If we make our way to the stables, we should be able to acquire mounts.”

King Alfred nodded grimly. “It will not take Guthrum long to realize the king of Wessex is no longer in the great hall. He will redirect his attack, and the stables will be his next target.”

Brecc’s thoughts immediately flew to Aisley. Had she done as he’d asked and gone directly to the stables? Had there been enough time for her to flee? And what of Rheged and the queen? He tightened his grip on the pitchfork. This was not the time for worry; this was the time to act.

Pulling the door open a little more, Brecc paused for two heartbeats, then stepped outside. “No one in sight,” he whispered.

King Alfred grunted his approval. “Then, we go.”

Keeping to the shadows, they hastened along the length of the building. Shouts and screams filled the air. Occasionally, running figures flitted in and out of view, their identities and destinations unknown. A clash of blades sounded from the direction of the great hall’s main doors. Men’s shouts followed. And then the clang of more blades making impact. There was no way of knowing who was involved or how long it would last, but any skirmish that drew the Vikings’ attention away from locating the king was welcome.