The Deepening Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 3) (24 page)

Epilogue

The Baptism

One year
later…

A hot, late summer’s day drew to a close, casting long shadows
across the grasslands outside Exning. The sun slid toward the western horizon, the
last rays glinting on the glistening surface of a large pool, surrounded by
draping willows.

A man, a woman and a monk stood at the edge of the pool.

The man was tall and blond, and appeared regal in a black
tunic and breeches with a fine fur cloak hanging from his broad shoulders; and the
woman was small and curvaceous with a mane of dark hair and eyes the color of a
thundercloud. In her arms, the woman carried a babe. The infant was barely
older than a moon’s cycle but with a shock of dark hair like her mother’s. Tiny
fingers clasped at the warm air, and eyes that were already showing signs of
being deep-blue, like her father’s, stared up at the sky.

A monk dressed in a rough, homespun tunic, stepped close to
the couple. He was a middle-aged man with a kind face and work-worn hands. Not
far from the edge of the pool, hidden behind the bright green of the willows,
was a low-slung thatched hall where this monk and his companions lived and
worked the small gardens around it.

This pool was known by those who lived locally as St Mindred’s
Well – and it was here that the King and Queen of the East Angles had brought
their daughter to be baptized.

Saewara smiled at the monk – Swidhelm was his name – and gently
handed her daughter to him. Aethelthryth made a faint mewling sound in protest
at being parted from her mother but soon quietened in the monk’s gentle
embrace. Under the king and queen’s watchful gazes, Swidhelm brought the infant
girl to the edge of the pool, where he knelt and dipped his hand into the
water. The waters of St Mindred’s Well were warm this evening, after a
sweltering day that had kept most folk inside. As such, the baby did not squall
when the monk dripped water onto her forehead.

Saewara looked on as Swidhelm murmured the words of the
baptism in Latin over her daughter. When the monk had finished, he handed
Aethelthryth back to her mother with a smile.

“It is done – may the Lord bless you all.”

Saewara looked at her husband, and he met her gaze steadily.

“Is that it?” Annan asked, incredulous. “If I’d known a
baptism took such little time and fuss, I’d have agreed to it earlier.”

Saewara gave Annan a quelling look and fell into step with him
as they walked away from the pool.

“Come – a feast awaits back in Exning.” Annan put an arm
around his wife’s shoulder. “The folk have got a boar roasting on a spit. Let’s
join them.”

They walked across the golden fields, through the softly
whispering grass, enjoying the balmy evening and the rare moment alone. Saewara
took a deep breath of the warm air, laced with the scent of dry grass and warm
earth, and felt a sense of well-being steal over her. Above her, the wide East
Anglian sky, now decorated with lilac and pink ribbons, stretched for eternity.
It was a beautiful, peaceful country. She had grown to love living in Exning. Life
was gentle here; the folk welcoming and kind.

Still walking at Annan’s side, she voiced her thoughts to him.

“Can’t we stay on here? Do we really have to go back to
Rendlaesham?”

Annan smiled at her questions – it was not the first time he
had heard them over the past days. Ever since he had announced that they would
have to return to Rendlaesham at
Winterfylleth
– the
period of the year when autumn slipped into winter – she had tried to convince
him otherwise.

“I know you don’t have fond
memories of Rendlaesham,” Annan told her, “but you’ll see that this time it will
be different. The people will accept you now. I am king, and my place is there.
Our victory against the Mercians has bought us additional time at Exning, but
if I stay away any longer, the people will start to feel their king is not
doing his duty. To rule a kingdom requires sacrifice, Saewara – but it’s a
small price to pay. There are worse places than Rendlaesham. Don’t worry, we
shall return to Exning next summer.”

“I know,” Saewara replied,
meeting his gaze. “It’s just that we have been so happy here. I know it is my past
speaking, but I worry that our happiness is fragile, and that the moment we
leave, things will change.”

Saewaera watched Annan frown. Her
words had cast a shadow over the balmy evening. She had not wished them to; but
these worries had plagued her for days and she had not shared them. She
wondered if she had done the right thing in doing so now.

“Saewara.” Annan halted, forcing
her to do the same. “Do you really think what we have will not last?”

Saewara flushed at his
implication. “I don’t doubt our love, of course not. We have gone through too
much to reach this point for me ever to doubt that. No, I doubt forces beyond
our control. My brother still lives, and while he draws breath you and I will
never be truly safe.”

Annan returned her gaze, although
the fact that he had not instantly denied her fears only made anxiety curl in
the pit of Saewara’s belly.

“We can’t let Penda cast a shadow
over what we have,” Annan said quietly. “If we do that then he has won. There
may come a day when I meet him again in battle – but we can’t live in dread of
that day. He has gone quiet for the moment, licking his wounds and rebuilding
his strength. For now, the Kingdom of the East Angles is safe, and will
prosper. We have many things to look forward to, Saewara. Let’s not let Penda
ruin our happiness.”

Tears stung Saewara’s eyes as she
listened to her husband. “I know you speak the truth,” she replied quietly. She
was sorry now that she had brought this subject up, for although Annan had done
his best to assuage her fears, he had not denied them. It had been foolish to
expect him to – the threat was still there. It always would be.

They walked on, and soon Exning’s
paling fence bristled against the sunset.

“Battle, death, honor and vengeance,” Annan spoke once more,
his tone subdued. “They are a part of our world. I’m a king and I cannot escape
the fact that they affect me more than most. I knew this when I was crowned. I
never wanted the responsibility, especially given the pledge I made to your
brother. I wanted it even less when he forced me to marry you.”

His words hung between them for a moment before he continued.
“Yet, all that has changed. Penda unwittingly gave me one of life’s greatest
gifts. He meant to break me, but instead he made me stronger. Now that I am happy
– now that I have you by my side – I need not fear what comes. This peace may
not last, but while it does I intend to enjoy it.”

His gaze met Saewara’s then and he smiled – a warm, carefree
smile – as if sharing these thoughts with her had freed him of any nagging
worry and doubt. He was strong; she had seen that in him from the first. It was
more than just a warrior’s strength – the courage to meet your enemy in battle
and stare him in the eye – but a quieter, deeper strength that comes from
making peace with who you are. Annan knew exactly who he was – the good and the
bad.

“You speak true again,” she smiled back, a little of her own
tension easing. “You always do.”

“Music to mine ears,” he laughed. “Let me remind you of that
next time I enrage you.”

“You make me sound like a harpy!” She playfully punched him on
the arm, causing Aethelthryth to squawk in protest.

Their gazes met then, and held. Saewara felt her breathing
still when she saw her own hunger reflected in his gaze. Since Aethelthryth’s
birth, Annan had stayed from her bed; the birth had been difficult and he had
been afraid of hurting her. However, the time apart was weighing upon them
both.

I am fortunate
, she thought.
I have a
husband and a child; I love and am loved in return. I am no longer alone in the
world – I no longer rail against my lot.

Things could have turned out very differently. It had been a
surprise to find herself pregnant with Aethelthryth – for she had thought
herself barren. Her pregnancy had been an unexpected joy; she hoped there would
be others.

“Tonight, you will come to my bed?” she asked, blushing at her
own directness.

“Is it not still too early?” he asked, hope flaring in his
eyes.

Saewara shook her head. “I have missed you.”

A grin spread across Annan’s face then and he put an arm
around her shoulders, once more, as they crossed last stretch of grass to
Exning’s gates. “Then tonight I will have to give you the attention you
deserve,” he replied, injecting a sultry undertone into every word. His smile
was private and wicked, making promises for later.

Saewara smiled back, excitement fluttering at the base of her
stomach.

Annan is right
. Saewara’s fears melted
away into the recesses of her mind. Worrying about the future was as pointless
as trying to hold back the tide. Who knew how much time any of them had? All
she knew was that at this moment, there was no happier, or luckier, woman
alive.

--

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THE DEEPENING NIGHT and want more?

Buy
Book #1 in the Kingdom of Mercia series: THE BREAKING DAWN

--

Read
the Prologue of THE BREAKING DAWN
.

Prologue

The
Promise

The
village of Weyham, Kingdom of Mercia – Britannia

Spring
641 AD

“Will you marry me?”

Merwenna’s breath caught. Had she heard correctly –
had he really uttered those words?

“Excuse me?”

“Merwenna.” Beorn stepped close to her, his gaze
longing, his voice tender. “Will you be my wife?”

The young couple stood alone in the woods,
surrounded by skeleton trees.

Warmth had not yet returned to the world, although
it was early spring, and nature still lay dormant. They had both donned heavy
fur cloaks for their walk, as the morning air held winter’s bite – yet Merwenna
did not feel the morning’s chill. Joy bathed her in warmth as if she stood next
to a roaring fire.

A smile broke across her face and she flung herself
into his arms. She had not been dreaming. The moment she had longed for had
finally come.

“Of course I will!”

Beorn laughed, his relief evident. His arms
tightened around her and he pulled her close. “Thank Woden – for a moment
there, I thought you would refuse me.”

The feel of his young, strong body against hers
made her pulse quicken.

Beorn pulled back slightly and met her gaze. As
always, she was struck by the blueness of his eyes, and the beauty of his
chiseled features.

“Refuse you?” Merwenna stared at him, incredulous.
It had taken her nearly three years of gentle encouragement to reach this
point. “I was beginning to think you would never ask!”

Beorn flushed slightly, embarrassed, and looked
away. They both knew he valued his freedom highly. Like her father, Beorn served
Weyham’s ealdorman. They were warriors who farmed the land around the village
by day, but would ride to war with the ealdorman, if commanded. However, unlike
her father, who had lived a warrior’s life for many years before wedding her
mother – Beorn was young, and chafed at the thought of spending the rest of his
days in Weyham.

Merwenna gazed at her betrothed, drinking him in.
Wavy blond hair fell over his shoulders and since autumn he had worn a short
beard, which suited him.

She waited for him to say something else. She
expected an excuse for making her wait so long. Yet, he remained silent.

“Beorn?” she said finally, realizing that he was
still avoiding her gaze. “Is something the matter?”

The young man looked up, and shook his head. “The
thing is…,” he began hesitantly, “the handfasting itself will have to wait.”

A chill stole over Merwenna at these words, and her
joy dimmed.

“
Hwaet?”

“The king is gathering a
fyrd
,” Beorn
continued, the words rushing out as he gained momentum. “He intends to march north
and face King Oswald of Northumbria. I’ve decided to join his army.”

Merwenna stared at him. Her shock turning to upset.

When she did not respond, Beorn’s face grew
serious. “Merwenna?”

“You ask me to marry you,” Merwenna replied, her
voice quivering as she struggled to stop herself from crying, “and then in the
next breath announce that you are going to war. Why did you even bother to
propose?”

“Because I love you.” Beorn took hold of her hands
and squeezed gently, his gaze earnest. “I want us to be married. It’s just that
we shall have to wait a little.”