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Aisley sat beside the queen on the front pew of the Aller church, awaiting the arrival of the men. Sunlight filtered in through the narrow windows, painting the wooden seats a golden brown and warming the flagstone floor. Before them was the christening font filled with water. Behind them, the priest stood beside the door to the church, a basket of salt in his hand.

The latch clicked, and the door creaked open. The queen and Aisley rose, and the king, followed by Brecc and Odda, entered the building. The priest inclined his head and stood aside so that the men might make their way up the short aisle. Brecc’s eyes met hers, the warmth in their dark depths bringing a shy smile to her face. He took his place beside the king on the row across from Aisley’s, and then Guthrum entered the church.

The fearsome Viking chieftain was dressed in white. He stopped opposite the priest, and as a candidate for baptism, he opened his mouth for a portion of salt. The priest placed it under his tongue, and then Guthrum walked to the front of the church. Thirty of his closest associates—also dressed in white—followed. Each took their portion of salt before filing into the pews.

The king’s most loyal thegns came next. Upon entering the church, they positioned themselves shoulder to shoulder along the walls. Guthrum’s men watched them sullenly. Aisley studied the Vikings’ faces. Their skin was weathered, and most had drawn their long beards into a single plait similar to the two hanging from their heads. Their blue eyes were alert, and their expressions ranged from puzzled to curious to defeated.

Many of the thegns appeared wary, and even though they were in a church, the knives at their waists were ever present. Rheged and Lufian stood closest to her. Their wounds had healed well, and that knowledge was a balm to her heart whenever she thought of the many men Wessex had lost in battle at Bratton Camp. Of the nineteen men she had treated, she had lost only four. Taber’s death haunted her still, but Brecc had fulfilled his promise and had seen to it that the young man was buried in the churchyard at Edington with all the religious rites offered to a man of means.

She returned her gaze to Brecc, unable to contain the flutter of excitement she experienced whenever she set eyes upon him. Ever since his return from the siege at Chippenham, he and the king had worked tirelessly to bring about this event. But he had ensured that any time available to him between royal assignments had been hers. He’d sought her out every day. Sometimes they’d taken a walk or ride together. Other times, they’d sat side by side in the gardens at the royal estate and talked. Occasionally, when time had been truly limited, he’d brought her a flower and had kissed her soundly before hastening back to the king’s chambers.

Her cheeks warmed at the memories of those favorite moments, and as she watched him standing beside the king, she offered a silent prayer of gratitude for the series of miracles that had brought her to this point.

“Please be seated.” The priest’s voice filled the small church, and with a rustle of fabric, all but the thegns lining the walls lowered themselves onto the pews. “Would Guthrum of Denmark and his sponsor please come forward.”

Guthrum and King Alfred rose. Keeping his face forward, Guthrum followed the king to stand beside the priest at the font.

“Do you, Guthrum, renounce your previous pagan beliefs and embrace your newfound faith in Jesus Christ?” the priest asked.

“Aye.” The Viking had yet to look away from the priest, so when the older man gestured toward the font, he obediently moved closer.

After a few quiet words were spoken between them, the priest anointed Guthrum’s head and then plunged it into the font. King Alfred stepped up, and grasping Guthrum by the shoulders, he lifted him up from the water and embraced him.

Aisley was unprepared for the rush of emotion that accompanied King Alfred’s unexpected act of fellowship, and it seemed that many of the thegns felt similarly. Their countenances reflected their wonder at what they were witnessing. And although others in the room appeared more skeptical, the atmosphere in the church had changed from one of suspicion to one of acceptance.

“Be it known to all assembled here and those far from this church,” King Alfred said, standing beside Guthrum, “that from this day forth, my godson shall be known by the Christian name Aethelstan.”

“Aethelstan,” Guthrum repeated, and then with a dazed nod to the priest, he and King Alfred resumed their seats, and the first of his men walked to the front to repeat the ceremony.

One by one, the Vikings were baptized. The priest waited until the last one returned to his pew and then invited all to kneel. Everyone, including the thegns lining the wall, lowered themselves to their knees, and the priest offered a prayer over the congregation. When the last amens had been spoken, the king approached the aisle where the queen and Aisley sat and extended his arm to his wife. Smiling, she took it, and as they began their walk to the back of the church, the Vikings filtered into the aisle behind them, exiting the rustic building with a reverence rarely found outside a church of much greater size and splendor.

Aisley turned to watch the exodus, waiting until the last of the thegns had followed after the Vikings before moving.

“I wondered if you would ever choose to leave.”

With a start, Aisley swung around. Brecc was standing at the end of the pew, an understanding smile on his face.

“Forgive me.” She moved toward him. “I did not mean to keep you waiting. I thought you had gone ahead with the king.”

He reached for her hand. “I told him I would likely be a little late in joining him.”

“We can hasten.” She wove her fingers between his, expecting him to draw her into the aisle. But he did not move. “Brecc?”

“I know you have an attachment to this old church,” he said.

“I do, but we need not stay any longer.”

He tightened his grip on her hand but still did not move. “This morning, it struck me that since we would be here together and the priest would be available, along with those on whom we could call to witness a private ceremony . . .”

Aisley’s heart was suddenly beating so loudly she could barely hear what Brecc was saying.

The door at the rear of the church opened, and Rheged appeared. “Lufian, Odda, and I are still waiting. Is there to be a wedding or not?”

Brecc released a weary sigh. “Why do I even associate with him?”

Aisley laughed softly. “One moment, Rheged,” she said, and then she took Brecc’s other hand in hers. “Please continue.”

Turning his back on the three thegns who were now standing at the rear of the room, he looked at her with such tenderness that tears pricked Aisley’s eyes.