Free The Sixth Lost Tale of Mercia: Hastings the Hearth Companion by Jayden Woods Page B

to
gather the best of your thegns and warriors, rather than all of the
fyrd,” Hastings went on. “And even if time was not a factor, think
of it: a shield wall with the best men in front would be
practically impenetrable.”
    The clergyman at Ulfcytel’s side glared at
Hastings. He was thin and gaunt, with beady eyes that were entirely
unpleasant. “And once penetrated, the entire army would
crumple.”
    “ Bishop Elfgar is right!”
roared Ulfcytel.
    “ But it would also be easy
to penetrate the enemy,” Hastings went on. He had rehearsed the
speech so many times in his head that the words came out
effortlessly. “The front lines could open up and let men out at
will, magnificent fighters who could wreak severe damage on the
Vikings all on their own.”
    Ulfcytel hesitated, considering this. When at
a loss, he turned once more to the bishop.
    Bishop Elfgar shook his head sadly. “It is
too risky. Besides, who is this Golden Cross, and why have I not
heard of him before? Does he not have a name?”
    “ Yeah, and what are these
two golden lines at the bottom of the page?” Ulfcytel added
indignantly. No doubt he meant the “x” signed with golden
ink.
    “ The Golden Cross’s
signature,” said Hastings. “And as I said, the Golden Cross is a
brilliant military tactician who serves King Ethelred, and all of
Engla-lond. You may have noticed that the scroll was approved with
a royal seal.”
    Ulfcytel just blinked in puzzlement.
    Bishop Elfgar rolled up the scroll with a
decisive motion. “Battle tactics are beside the point. The East
Anglian witan has made its decision. We will pay Sweyn to leave our
shores, and in that way spare the lives of all our best men, God
willing.”
    Hastings could see that he had lost. Indeed,
he had come too late, though he had tried his best, and he wanted
his efforts to enable him to face Aydith without shame.
    He only hoped that she would forgive him, and
not see this failure as his own.
    *
    In his dream he guarded the aetheling while
she slept and listened to the sounds of her breathing. At first it
was soft and slow, rising and falling with the carefree gentility
of a child’s. But she was not a child anymore; she was fourteen,
and sometimes at night she was plagued by nightmares. Her breath
grew faster, heavy and deep, and a soft moan escaped her lips.
    “ Hastings ...
Hastings!”
    “ I am here,
Aydith.”
    He found her in the darkness, his large hands
closing around hers, gripping her tightly. In his dream he could
see her, even though it was dark and not a single candle was lit.
Her brown eyes shone like copper moons, searching his.
    “ Hastings, the Golden Cross
failed?”
    “ I am afraid so, my
lady.”
    “ But ... I don’t
understand.” Her hands tightened against his, and at first he
enjoyed the sensation, their skin pressed so firmly together that
he could feel the tiny ridges of her palm sliding against his own.
Then her nails dug into his knuckles, and pain overwhelmed the
pleasure. “It is you who failed.”
    “ No, Aydith, please, I did
what I could ... !”
    “ The Golden Cross, whose
mission is that of our Lord in heaven, would never fail. This
is your failure!”
    He cried out, then clutched for her, even
though she was the source of his pain. She was also his only source
of comfort and healing. She thrashed against his searching grip,
evading him. “Forgive me … please. Isn’t there anything else I can
do? Anything?”
    She became still very suddenly, and his hands
reached further through the shadows, for now everything in his
dream had gone dark again. He found her face and stroked it gently.
Her cheek felt soft and warm.
    “ Aydith,” he whispered.
“Serving you is the joy of my life. All I want is to give you joy
in return.”
    “ Hastings ...”
    “ Please tell me what else I
can do,” he said. “Please, let me make it up to you ...”
    He leaned closer to her, and now he could not
only hear her breath, but feel it, too. He could see