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home?” he asked.
    “Northumbria?”
    “Last I heard there had been great battles waged with the Vikings.”
    “They have taken over York and placed an English puppet on the throne. He is Saxon by birth, but the Vikings control his every move.”
    Eadfrith nodded. “I’d heard as much. I had hoped someone would have challenged them by now.”
    “There is no one left to intervene. East Anglia has fallen. Mercia is struggling to protect its own—London has been won, and swarms with Vikings. The only country showing any kind of resistance is Wessex, but battles wage endlessly. Their king was wounded in battle.” I had no idea if Aethelred still lived. I hoped he’d recovered, but I’d seen too many sword wounds to know his odds. In the battle of Basing, wearing my father’s helmet and carrying his shield, I had led Somerset into battle. I fought valiantly and held my ground all morning. We were making good progress and had gained solid advances before the breach, but once the shield wall buckled farther down the line, it turned into a massacre. Saxons fled and Vikings chased them down. Axes and swords ran through defenseless backs.
    “Is that why you left? Is your home no longer safe?”
    “Yes.” At least that statement was true.
    “Are you from Mercia or East Anglia? Wessex perhaps?”
    “I am Saxon.”
    “You are positively intriguing. I would very much enjoy getting to know you better.”
    His words, dancing with invitation, clashed sharply with his wool habit.
    We stopped outside Gil’s hall. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I’m set to leave Wales shortly, once my companion sorts out his business.”
    “Companion?” Eadfrith seemed to deflate.
    “Yes, my promised, Alrik the Bloodaxe.”
    “A Viking?”
    “We are to travel to the continent.”
    “Were you captured? Have they indentured you?” He grabbed my hands. “Let me help you. I can’t bear to see you harmed in any way.”
    I smiled and removed my hands from his grasp. “I assure you, I am with Alrik of my own free will.”
    He cleared his throat. “I see. Well, I hope we get the opportunity to meet again in our travels.”
    “I’d like that.”
    I watched him saunter back the way we’d come and took a solidifying breath, opening the door.
    The men were absent, and Marared was busy marshaling her household into preparing dinner. I offered to help, but she ignored any attempt on my part to smooth the thorns between us. I retired to a chair, a cup of wine in hand, and waited, uncertain what else to do.
    After an eternity of awkward silence, Gil and Alrik sauntered in, and servants placed the roasted fowl on the table. Gil swung a bench out from the wall and sat at my side, a pitcher poised to top up my goblet. “Have you girls been having fun?” He poured more of the sweet fruit wine into my cup.
    “Of course.” Marared’s hand lingered, brushing Alrik’s shoulders as she walked past. Her eyes held mine. I made a concerted effort to focus on drinking the wine, lest my tongue find purchase on the choice words I was thinking. I needed to tell Alrik of my declaration, but propriety demanded that I endure this awkward evening before trying to get him alone.
    After dinner, Gil continued to ply me with drink while Marared fawned over Alrik. Alrik laughed, seemingly amused at her antics, and let her perch on his lap for most of the evening. I would never have infringed on a relationship that was bound for marriage, yet Marared blatantly disregarded my statement and seemed determined to undermine it.
    Gil tried to engage me in conversation, but as the candles burned lower, my discord grew. Incensed by Marared’s grating laughter and the deep rumble of Alrik’s voice, I broke decorum and stood. I walked over to Alrik, and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Would you please excuse us, I need to speak privately with my promised.”
    Alrik gave me a curious look and glanced at Marared, whose face had turned a mottled shade of