Page 65

The guard shook his head in disbelief. “I believe you may be the feeblest arrival on the island yet.”

Indignation flared, warming her chest and giving strength to her weakened limbs. A reproaching retort rose to her lips, but then she remembered her position. Or at least, the position this guard believed she held. Clamping her mouth closed, she redirected her pique. Following after him without a fall would be proof enough of her fortitude. Until she knew exactly who she could trust on this island, she would be Avi, not Aisley.

“Your mount can stay in the enclosure with the other horses,” the guard said, leading her to an area of grass bounded by a wooden fence. Two horses raised their heads and watched curiously as the man lifted a rope on the gate and led her mount in. She watched silently as he took off her mare’s saddle and bridle. “The tack can stay with you,” he said, carrying it out of the enclosure with him.

“Very well.” He had not offered her an alternative, but keeping the saddle and bridle nearby seemed wise.

“You can sleep here,” he said, dropping the tack at the entrance of a small tent pitched beneath a large pine tree. He inclined his head toward her satchel. “Did you bring a blanket?”

“I did.”

“Good.”

For the first time, it appeared she had given the correct response. It was a small thing, but it gave her the courage to ask a few questions of her own. “Ya said that Ealdormen Brecc and Rheged are away. D’ya know when they’re expected back?”

“No.”

Aisley had hoped Brecc, and possibly even Rheged, would be willing to accompany her when she first approached King Alfred. The thought of facing the king alone filled her with dread. There could be no doubt his anger at what Wulfhere had done would be swift and fierce. And as a member of the traitor’s family, she would be considered blameworthy. It was quite possible that she would be subjected to the full measure of the king’s ire and punishment. Yet after so desperate a journey, she could not delay delivering her news out of fear. “What of th’ king?” she asked.

The guard stared at her stony-faced. “Not here.”

His response, although disheartening, was not wholly unexpected. Aisley had the distinct impression that even if the older man knew more, he would not share it with her.

“An’ I’m t’ stay right ’ere till they come?”

“Either that, or you may return across the marsh first thing on the morrow,” he said grimly.

Surely he would not place her here if he knew she could be waiting for weeks. Having to monitor her for an extended length of time would be sufficient incentive to come up with an alternate plan.

Silently praying that she was right and that Brecc’s or the king’s return would not be long in coming, Aisley lowered her satchel from her shoulder. A gown, shoes, bags of healing plants, and a blanket. She was grateful for each one of those items, but she was in desperate need of something else. “I shall abide by yer rules,” she said, “but I would ask one thing more afore ya leave me ’ere.” He raised his eyebrows, but before he could respond or her wounded pride could interfere, she continued. “Some food. It don’t need t’ be much, but if ya have any yer willin’ t’ spare, I’d be most appreciative.”

One look at the guard’s face told her that whatever redeeming points she’d garnered by bringing a blanket had been lost.

“I shall see what I can find,” he said.

“I thank you.” Aisley wrapped her arms around her satchel and pressed it against her empty stomach. Until Brecc or Rheged returned or she was miraculously granted audience with the king, the guard’s grudging assistance was the most she could hope for.

CHAPTER 25

THE FLICKERING LIGHT GUIDED THE punt toward the island. It had taken the men longer to reach Athelney than Brecc had hoped, but he was deeply grateful that their journey was finally nearing an end. A few hours later than he’d anticipated was far better than a full day or two.

Standing on the small platform at the back of the punt, Lufian gave the pole in his hands a sharp twist and then pulled. With a reluctant squelch, the mud beneath the water relinquished the long shaft. Lufian raised it clear of the water, waiting until their forward momentum slowed before dropping the pole into the water again. He pushed against the pole, and the boat glided on.

“You have become an expert punter, Lufian,” Rheged said. “We are fortunate that Brecc did not insist on taking charge of the pole this evening. We may have all taken a dip before reaching the island.”

It was a poor attempt at levity. Brecc’s skill with the punt was not so lacking as all that. But given how tired the men were, Brecc could not fault Rheged for trying. And truth be told, he would rather listen to them tease him about his inexpert performance with the punt pole than to lie in the bottom of the boat dwelling on the seriousness of his leg injury.

“If we each arrive on the island with dry feet, I shall consider my captaining the punt a success,” Lufian said.

“Do not blame yourself if I enter the cottage trailing water behind me,” Brecc said. “I am not sure this leg of mine will sustain an elegant exit when we dock.”

“He has been riding so long, he wishes to remain at one with his mount,” Rheged said, turning to watch the four horses swimming after the punt.

At the front of the craft, Bertwin chuckled. It was no secret that they’d each been more than happy to dismount when they’d reached the marsh. Two full days in the saddle was too long for any man.

“Looks like it’s Radolf who’s come to meet us,” he said.

“Once again, fortune has smiled upon us,” Rheged said dryly.