Better than Gold (2 page)

But then angry cries of surprise came from the Mercians—and even from his awkward position, Egfrid sensed his enemy's bewilderment. Had his father returned in time to rescue him? But no—thick smoke made him cough. The wind had changed direction and sent the flames back into the faces of the men who'd lit them.

‘Mount up!' Penda shouted. He struggled to climb into the saddle himself, but as soon as he'd managed it he pointed to Egfrid. ‘Give me my treasure!'

The boy was thrown over the saddle of Penda's horse, where he slumped face down, rump in the air, across the giant's saddle.

‘Get out! Leave them to burn!' Penda bellowed.

Egfrid lifted his head and shouted, ‘The Christ-God has sent this wind to punish you!' The changing wind had come from Aidan's Isle—the offshore monastery that Chad came from.

‘
Shut up!' He received a brutal thump across his ear from the man who'd carried him.

Penda took the reins and wheeled his stallion about. ‘We have what we came for,' he cried, ‘something to make the Faint-heart weep! Cease your whining, boy, and prepare for the ride of your life!'

CHAPTER
2

Sacrifice to Woden

E
gfrid wanted to die. Every part of his body was battered and bruised. The Mercians galloped south, scattering flocks, swinging spears and swords at man or beast that got in their way. These men were pagans who worshipped Woden and Thunor the thunder-god. They made horrible blood sacrifices and he was terribly afraid that they meant to sacrifice him.

Penda stopped at noon in a small village that they terrorised with threats and demands. The poor inhabitants ran to bring bread, cheese, smoked pigs' haunches and their best ale. After another brief rest they rode southwards again and Egfrid fell into a deep, creeping misery. When darkness came, they stopped again, throwing the boy into a patch of heather. He lay helpless as the men rushed to assist Penda down from his horse.

Egfrid
shut his eyes and prayed that he'd wake to find he'd been riding the nightmare. If his father heard how he'd opened his mouth and stupidly given himself away, there'd be little sympathy from him for his plight. What a fool he'd been. He must pay dearly now, for one moment of mad pride. Why, oh why had he not meekly obeyed Brother Chad and pretended to be a servant girl?

His mother, Queen Eanfleda, would weep when she heard he'd been taken. She'd order monks and nuns to pray for him and give more gold to the churches, hoping the Christ-God would save him, but Egfrid had little hope that anyone could save him now. He'd lost everything—his home, his pony, his hounds, his proud status as a royal prince.

A tiny scrap of comfort floated through the darkness when he thought he heard Annis calling to him. ‘I'm here, Egfrid… Annis is here.'

Then the sound grew muffled, as though the Mercians had shut her up. His own ear throbbed painfully from the blow he'd received. Would they hit Annis, too? She'd called out the gentle words she'd used to comfort him when he was small. ‘I'm here… Annis is here,' she'd cry, when he fell or banged his head.

She'd
soothe his wounds with marigold balm and somehow put things right again—but she could do nothing for him now.

He guessed they must be heading for Deira, towards his father's cousin's palace at York, but there was little chance that Oswin Yffi would ride out to save him. His father's handsome young cousin was known as Oswin the Good, for he was a very Christian king, but he only ruled these lands with Penda's consent and an annual payment of gold and grain.

Egfrid's father had wanted Deira for himself. He sneeringly called his young rival ‘Oswin the Perfect'.

One of the men brought a horn of strong-smelling mead to Penda and he took a long drink. He smacked his lips and said with a chuckle, ‘Give our little lady a sip!'

When the boy turned his head away, Penda reached out to grab him brutally by the hair and tip his head back. ‘Drink!' he ordered.

Egfrid was forced to gulp down the powerful stuff and some of it slopped onto the shameful gown that he still wore. ‘You're a fool, just like your father,' Penda growled. ‘This will help you bear the journey, for we must ride fast.'

Egfrid
looked away and thought that he saw two men that he recognised wandering freely amongst the Mercians. They usually rode with his cousin Prince Ethelwald. What were they doing in the company of raiders?

Then one of them looked at him and smiled; a sneering smile and Egfrid understood. Chad had said that the gates were open, and the guards slaughtered. These men had betrayed him. They were in Penda's pay. Dark rage rose against them—he'd kill them if he could, but the mead he'd been forced to drink took effect and soon, despite himself, he slept.

He was roused at daybreak, made to drink mead again, and once more thrown across the king's saddle. His thoughts grew muddled and his eyes drooped, so that he no longer felt the bumping pain of the stallion's gallop. Darkness closed in on him as though it was still night.

Day and night merged together and Egfrid was only vaguely aware of more stops, more drinks of mead that he gulped down, welcoming the warm darkness that it brought. When he eventually came to his senses again, he opened his eyes to find that he was looking dizzily down into bright waters, which crept ever
closer
to his face. Sun warmed the back of his head, while the animal scent of the stallion filled his nostrils and he discovered that he felt sick. As the water came closer still, he wondered if they were going to drown him.

Penda's sturdy mount ploughed on. Soon Egfrid's face was splashed, there was a taste of mud in his mouth, and he had a dim understanding that they were crossing a wide river. Could it be the River Humber, which marked the southern boundary of Deira? His heart sank at the thought, for once across it, he could never hope to escape.

The water receded as the stallion moved through shallows and out onto marshy ground. Egfrid's stomach heaved. He opened his mouth and vomited down the rippling muscular shoulder of the horse.

This involuntary action was greeted with a roar of disapproval from Penda. ‘Damn me, by Woden's teeth, the brat has spewed. Call a halt! Now that we're free of Faint-heart's lands, we'll rest the beasts and ride on through the night.'

Shouts and orders travelled down the line and the horses were hobbled and set free to graze in the meadows that lined the river bank. Penda dismounted
with
difficulty and sat down on a rock. Egfrid was hauled down after him.

‘Sit him up beside me,' Penda ordered. ‘He has a right to see how we deal with those who betrayed him.'

So Egfrid was propped up beside the king.

‘Fetch Ethelwald's men for their just reward!' the king growled.

Egfrid looked with hatred at the two that he'd recognised earlier, but at Penda's brief nod, they were grabbed from behind and disarmed.

‘Take them to yonder ash tree, slit their throats and hang them by their feet, as a sacrifice to Woden,' the king ordered.

Egfrid gasped in astonishment, while the two men collapsed, begging pitifully for their lives.

But Penda was merciless. ‘They're traitors to their kind and death is all they deserve,' he said. ‘Now bring the other captives here.'

The men were dragged away to their fate, leaving Egfrid shaken. He shut his eyes, not wishing to witness his betrayers' miserable deaths, but Penda had other ideas.

‘Open your eyes,' he bawled.

When Egfrid obeyed he saw that Annis and Brother Chad had been dragged forwards, both of them bound
hand
and foot as he was. They were forced to kneel in the mud, looking pale and dirty, but both stared calmly into the distance, refusing to plead.

‘See who we have here,' Penda said, as though Egfrid were a fool, or a little child. ‘Your holy man and little mother-hen!'

Egfrid nodded miserably.

‘Swear that you will not try to escape, and you will be set free from these bonds. But if you break your word, these two shall be Woden's next sacrifice.'

Egfrid's stomach churned at the thought of the ash tree and he nodded quickly. ‘I agree,' he said.

‘Swear by your god!'

‘I swear by the Christ-God,' he said.

‘Good,' said Penda. ‘Take them away.'

Annis and Brother Chad were hauled away and though their mouths were not gagged, they suffered the indignity in silence.

‘Unbind the boy!' Penda ordered.

Two warriors bent to release Egfrid's hands and ankles, but when they set him upright, he fell straight down again. He could see his feet and legs, but couldn't feel them.

‘Rub his ankles, you fools,' Penda growled. ‘Where is Fritha? Fetch the herb-wench!'

One
of the warriors stooped awkwardly to pull off Egfrid's boots. A weather-beaten woman, dressed strangely in riding breeches and a man's short tunic, pushed her way through to them. Small bundles and vials swung from her belt.

‘Get him standing straight for me!' Penda ordered. ‘I want this trophy live and walking.'

‘Out of the way then,' Fritha said. ‘His bonds were knotted far too tight.'

CHAPTER
3

The Lucky One

F
ritha started rubbing Egfrid's feet and ankles and it wasn't long before he began to feel a faint prickling sensation.

‘Oooh,' he gasped.

She chuckled, and paused to unstop a vial, from which she poured some sharp-smelling oil. She worked it in to his skin. The sensation of tingling heat became overpowering.

‘Oooh,' he gasped again.

He'd have liked to suffer in silence like Annis and Chad, but didn't seem able to manage it. The sensation was unpleasant, but vaguely familiar and he recognised that it must be gone through, in order for his feet to recover.

‘
Twitch your toes!' Fritha ordered.

The discomfort began to ebb and he found that he could wriggle his toes again.

‘Can he stand and walk?' Penda asked.

Two men hauled him to his feet and this time he managed to stay upright. He took a shaky step, relieved that he could still walk, but a worrying thought came to him. Were Annis and Chad too tightly bound?

Penda watched him closely. ‘How old are you?' he asked.

‘I've seen ten summers,' Egfrid replied.

‘Ten! Old enough to be fostered! They keep you coddled at home with a nurse, like a lass!'

Egfrid considered his life to be far from coddled. He was forced to spend hours learning to read and write, under Brother Chad's strict instruction. He longed instead to ride at his father King Oswy's side; to move from thane's hall to thane's hall to gather payment; to put down rebellion and pass judgement on those who'd broken the king's laws. Egfrid rarely saw his mother, for Queen Eanfleda spent most of her time visiting holy women and monasteries.

‘My father seeks a foster family,' he said. ‘But I need a royal household, as I am a king's son.'

Penda
frowned. ‘
My
boy Wulfhere is fostered by the finest fighter in Mercia. I make my sons into warriors.' He rubbed his long white beard, watching Egfrid thoughtfully. At last he turned away. ‘Fetch food,' he ordered. ‘I could eat a horse!'

Egfrid sat on a rock and pulled on his boots. When the food came he accepted bread and cheese, and found that he was very hungry. Fritha sat down beside him to eat.

‘You're the lucky one,' she said quietly.

Egfrid stared at her amazed; he'd been dragged from his home, carried far away, treated roughly and threatened with bloody pagan rites! How could he be lucky?

She chuckled, when she saw his expression. ‘I know him,' she insisted. ‘He likes the way you answer him. You live, don't you? The braver you are, the better he'll like you!'