Read Shadow of the Raven: Sons of Kings: Book One for Free Online

have any at all by now. Last time I looked he did have his balls, though he squinted oddly through his one eye, causing our men some amusement. The other was smeared quite creatively across his face.
    ‘Hauk likes to make the operation interesting: for the benefit of the audience, if you see what I mean.’

Three
    Eadwulf shoved the untouched Latin script away in disgust, keen to be outside now that the sun was shining after the light rain shower of early morning. Sigehelm had instructed him to make a start before he’d disappeared on some errand or other, but in his absence, Eadwulf had allowed his thoughts to wander.
    It had taken him little time to remember where he’d seen the rubied brooch before. Burgred had been wearing it on the day of the hunt, the day before the Witenagemot. As Eadwulf had begged to be allowed to ride out with his father, his attention had been momentarily drawn to the shiny red and gold brooch fastening Burgred’s cloak. But he’d soon forgotten about it. His uncle had so many pieces of fine jewellery.
    For the past two days Eadwulf had pondered over possible reasons for the brooch’s appearance in the woods, in the very area where Aethelnoth had seen the torches. Of course the brooch could simply have been lost during the hunt and impossible to find beneath the forest debris. Yet if that werethe case, Burgred would have returned to the hall that morning not wearing his cloak.Eadwulf could clearly remember his father walking in with hiscloak across his arm, and Burgred entering moments later . . .
    But was his uncle wearing his cloak?
    However hard he tried, further details remained a mystery. He could hardly accuse Burgred of any crime, nor yet link the brooch to the rendezvous in the forest. Besides, a meeting of any kind – with or without Burgred – may have been quite innocent. Then why meet in the middle of the night, out of sight?
    ‘So, nephew, learning your Latin like a good, future king?’
    Eadwulf’s head jerked back from the smirking features so close to his face, certain his thoughts had drawn his uncle to him. ‘Delighted to see me, as always?’ Burgred chortled, pulling himself up. ‘Is that expression merely surprise, or do I detect a sprinkling of fear? Surely you don’t fear me, do you, Eadwulf? For the life of me, I can’t think why you should.’
    ‘Of course I don’t fear you, Uncle; you just startled me. What did you want to say to me?’
    ‘Nothing in particular; there just never seems to be time for little chats these days.’
    ‘I can’t say I’ve seen much of you lately, Uncle. Mother says you spend much of your time hunting in the forest.’
    ‘Ah, hunting,’ Burgred said, sitting on the bench beside Eadwulf and adjusting the leather belt around his brown tunic. ‘Now there’s a pastime to be extolled. To hunt down one’s enemy, bringing him to ground from his lofty position in his own domain, gives a man faith in his own abilities.’
    Eadwulf blinked, taken aback by the odd response. He realised the hunt gave men a sense of achievement, a pride in their skills of stalking, and indeed killing. The hunt could also become a battle of wits between hunter and prey. But he’d been taught to view the hunted creature with respect, the primary aim of the hunt to provide food. The animal should be viewed as a saver of lives.
    ‘Do you see animals as your enemies, Uncle?’
    ‘Animals are like people, Eadwulf. The more important they are the further they have to fall and the greater the pleasure I experience in causing that demise.’
    A shiver ran down Eadwulf’s spine. Burgred was not talking about animals at all; he had greater prey on his mind.
    ‘But no, nephew, I haven’t been in the forest since the hunt with yourfathersoon after my arrival here, though I do intend to hunt again, very soon.’ Burgred stood to leave, an unctuous smile on his lips. ‘Now I’ll leave you to your Latin texts; you mustn’t disappoint that humourless monk, I