Warrior Princess

"I am sorry, my lady. But Cedric - I see him not."

By the time the meagre light of the grey dawn had begun to seep into my bedchamber, I had made up my mind. I would go to Cedric and wake him - tell him his life was in danger and that he should flee - persuade him to leave us and get as far from Surrey as he could. I'd press a gold coin into his palm, promise him my prayers - tell him we'd meet again when the war was over.

I rose from my bed and crept to the front of the house, pushing aside the curtain which lay across the doorway to Cedric's room. For a moment or two, I stood still, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slumbered beneath the thin linen sheet, certain that this would be the last time I ever saw him.

Tentatively I took a step towards him - he looked so peaceful, so blissfully unaware of the fate that the hermit had foretold.

"Cedric, Cedric!" I whispered.

He murmured a little and adjusted his position, but his eyes remained closed. My head was fighting my heart - I didn't want him to go - perhaps in another life we'd be together.

I took a step closer and reached towards him. Tenderly I touched his forehead, stroking the dark curls clear of his eyes, hoping to gently rouse him.

There was a flash of gold before my eyes.

I recoiled in surprise. Surely, I was mistaken? A trick of the light - nothing more.

Nervously I advanced my hand again and brushed my fingers across the top of his head. Horror flashed through me, shaking me clear of my sleep fog - for the tiniest length of the base of each hair was bright yellow. Cedric's hair was not black - he was blond!

I recoiled abruptly, hastily backing away from the bed.

"I see him not."

Again the hermit's words echoed through my mind, but now their true meaning was clear. Cedric wasn't about to die - far from it. Cedric had never existed - that's what the old man had meant. The young man sleeping in front of me was an imposter, a swindler, a cheat. Cedric wasn't Cedric!

But who was he? What reason would he have to trick his way into my father's confidence?

The answer hit me in flash. Cedric was a Viking! How else would he have known about Sigweard's conspiracy? Why else would he have found a way into my bedchamber? Had he been intending to kill me, when he found that Sigbehrt had got there first?

Was that why the hermit had gone? Cedric had been so unconcerned the previous night when I'd told him - perhaps he'd even bribed the old man to leave. Now my mother and I were his prisoners - would he extract a ransom from my father? Had that been his plan all along?

I panicked. I had to get out, to get away from this place, to get help, get to safety. As I turned to run out of the room, I saw Sigbehrt's sword lying on top of his clothes. I reached down and picked it up - it was best to be armed - who knew what dangers lay between the spring and Bonham Castle.

I crept back to my room and dressed quietly. For a second I hesitated, debating whether to wake my mother. But it was pointless - her protesting would wake Cedric and he would surely kill us both if he found us escaping.

Heart in my mouth, I creaked open the front door of the cottage. Cautiously I looked around the clearing. The spring was deserted. I looked back one more time to check he was not following me - there was no one there.

I took a deep breath and ran. Ran, as fast as my legs could take me, crashing through the undergrowth, following the stream downhill into the deepest part of the forest, retracing the route we'd followed less than a week before.

Brambles and thorns tore at my clothes; I pushed myself harder, running faster and faster, leaping over tree trunks and boulders. Shouts were coming from behind me - was that Cedric following me? It sounded like more than one voice - calling my name, begging me to stop. Was there a whole cohort of with him, hiding out in the woods, watching our every move? Was that why he left us every day?

The woodland was beginning to thin out now, more light was reaching the ground. In a few moments I'd be able to see Bonham Castle. With a final surge of effort, I broke free of the trees and immediately tripped over a root, falling forwards, flat on my face.

I pushed myself up on my hands. Standing in front of me, was a soldier - a corporal - dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Surrey army.

A wave of relief washed over me.

"I am Princess Elspeth," I panted. "Help me please. The monk in the cottage, he has the queen - he means to kill her!" I pointed upstream towards the hermit's pool.

For a few moments, the officer stared at me in amazement, incredulous at the sight before him. A broad smile broke over his face.

"My lady, we have been searching for you. It will be our pleasure to escort you to your father." He bowed low.

"The monk!" I pointed, still breathless. "He has the queen! He has the queen!"

The corporal reached into his pocket for a whistle, which he put to his lips and blew. Immediately a dozen men appeared from all around, half of whom he despatched in search of Cedric. He turned back to me.

"And now," he said with a bow, "I shall take you to your father."

Perhaps I should have spotted the warning signs earlier, but I was so relieved to have found a safe escort that I did not notice that we were turning south, away from Bonham, making our way along the narrow plain that squeezed between the Green Mountain and the dark, brooding forest of the Holmwood. It was only as we approached a small village, that I realised we were many miles from where we should have been.

"Where are we going?" I asked alarmed. "This is not Bonham!"

"My lady," the lead guard replied. "I am sorry to tell you - Bonham Castle has been sacked by the Vikings. Your father has set up camp here, this is Aclea."

"Aclea?" I asked, confused. I knew of the village and the low, flat plain that surrounded it. It was hardly the best defensive site. "Would he not choose the higher ground at Anstieburgh?"

The guard laughed. "He means to draw the Vikings south from Bonham. Aclea is where he will make his stand."

We had reached the row of timber buildings that lined the main street. It was now obvious that something was very wrong. The place was deserted - there were no signs of life anywhere. Army camps were full of activity - even I knew that - soldiers on patrol, blacksmiths hammering, horses being exercised - but there was nothing - no one at all. Aclea was a ghost village.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, beginning to panic. "Take me to the king!"

"My lady," the guard replied, catching hold of my wrist "your father is inspecting his troops. He will see you on his return."

"Get off me," I cried, trying to wrest myself free from his grasp. "I order you to take me to the king!"

The corporal laughed and gripped me more tightly, digging his fingers painfully into my flesh. His soldiers had their swords drawn now - they were packing close around me - there could be no escape. I cursed my hot-headed stupidity.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" I demanded.

We turned a corner. A sentry was standing guard outside a low stone building with a thatched roof. He saw us approach and opened the thick oak door. Roughly the sword was stripped from my waist and I was shoved through the opening.

"Once we have your mother in irons and that troublesome Benedictine is dead, your father will pay a pretty penny for your lives!" snarled the officer.

He turned and slammed the door behind him.

I blinked. In the dim light, I could see the room was almost empty - just a single straw mattress on the bare earthen floor. The narrow window was barred with an iron grille. This was my prison.

I sat down on the bed and wept.

-

"Princess Elspeth, what a pleasant surprise! I must thank you for returning my sword - how kind of you!"

An all-too-familiar silhouette filled the doorway.

"Sigbehrt?!" I gasped in horror.

"How nice of you to come and visit us," he smirked. "I do hope you are comfortable."

"You're alive?!" My blood ran cold.

The Thane of Chertsey gave a short laugh as he stepped into the room. The side of his face was badly bruised and there was a bandage over his ear.

"I am sure you are pleased to see me, my lady," he crowed.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I screamed, springing forwards towards the open door.

"Leaving so soon?" he mocked, catching me easily by the waist and throwing me backwards onto the bed.

I tried to claw at his face, but he held my wrists and forced me down against the mattress.

"Oh you can struggle, my lady. But there is no one here to save you - not even your little Benedictine!"

"Cedric is twice the man you'll ever be!" I yelled.

Sigbehrt gave a twisted chuckle.

"I should have run him through in Chertsey Jail when I had the chance. My father thought it sporting to bring him with us to Morden Castle. My father was weak - he paid the price - I will not make the same mistakes. My men will find the meddling monk. They will hunt him down. They will bring him to me. And you will watch me drain the lifeblood from his body!"

He turned and spat onto the floor.

"It was such as shame we were so rudely interrupted," Sigbehrt continued. "I was telling you that if you married me, your father's life would be spared."

"Never!" I screamed. "You have betrayed this kingdom to the Vikings. I will never marry you!"

Sigbehrt clapped one hand over my mouth and began to slide the other up my leg, beneath my tunic.

"My lord!" A shout came from the door.

Sigbehrt twisted round and glared at the intruder.

"Be gone - I am busy - I cannot be disturbed!" he snarled.

"My lord, the Viking king requests your presence most urgently at Bonham Castle."

"The Viking king will wait."

"My lord, King Aethelstan of Kent has moved against us. He has captured Morden Castle. You must go to Bonham now!"

Sigbehrt leapt from the bed with a roar of anger.

"I told them, I warned them they must prepare for an attack!" he ranted, shaking a finger at the messenger. "Those idiots - they think they are invincible - they know nothing of fighting on land."

He stalked towards the doorway.

"Bind her!" he demanded, pointing to where I lay on the bed. "See that no one gets in."

He turned back to the exit.

"And find that novice and kill him!" he bellowed.

I lay quietly in the darkness, unable to move. My arms were tied, my legs were bound, a greasy rag had been stuffed in my mouth. The rope around my wrists cut sharply into my skin and my head throbbed with pain.

King Aethelstan of Kent - was that my father's doing? Had he sent messengers to Canterburgh, asking for assistance? Or had the young king seized his moment - attacked the northern half of Surrey while my father desperately defended the south? If Aethelstan had attacked from the east, his father, Aethelwulf of Wessex would do likewise from the west - it was only a matter of time. And what of King Oslac of Sussex? Surely he would seize his chance? Together the three would beat the Vikings and divide my father's lands between them. It was inevitable - Surrey was finished.

And yet in the darkest corner of my thoughts, a tiny flame of hope was flickering, driving the cold despair from my heart. For now I knew that Cedric was not dead - the novice monk still lived. Whoever he was, he was no friend of Sigbehrt - and that meant he was on my side. And more importantly - he had escaped!

-

I woke with a start. Shouts of "Fire!" were ringing through the village. Outside the prison door was chaos and confusion - thundering hooves, clashing steel - Aclea was under attack!

The jailhouse was filling with smoke - the thatch was on fire. I needed to get out quickly - it wouldn't be long before the roof collapsed. I struggled to free myself, but the ropes around my wrists were tight, I could not move.

Suddenly there was an almighty crash. The door burst open. A tall figure dressed in black was coming towards me - a flaming torch in one hand, a dagger in the other.

This was it - my final moment - the intruder was going to kill me - I was going to die. I tried one more time to free myself, but already my lungs was filling with smoke. I choked, spluttered and slumped sideways onto the bed. Then there was blackness.

-

It was the sound of a blacksmith's hammer that woke me - a distant tinking of metal-on-metal, ringing through my dreams, rousing me from slumber like a calling bell. I blinked my eyes open and looked around. I was in a tent - a large tent, with maybe a dozen or so beds - all empty, except mine. In the far corner, a woman, dressed in a nurse's uniform, was arranging a pile of blankets. Where on earth was I?

I gripped the side of my bed and tried to sit up, but it was no use - I was too weak. Frustrated, I collapsed in a fit of coughing.

The nurse turned around and came towards me.

"Princess Elspeth!" she exclaimed, relief etched over her face. She gave a deep curtsey. "You have awakened!"

Her voice was soft and caring, her smile reassuring. Gently she brushed her hand over my forehead.

"W-where am I?" I asked bewildered.

"You are safe," she replied softly, turning to pick up a bowl of water and a cloth. "This is the Wessex camp."

"The Wessex camp?" I sat bolt upright. What Wessex camp? Was I no longer in Surrey?

She nodded. "Prince Alfred brought you here last night - he rescued you."

"Prince Alfred?" I asked in disbelief. "Prince Alfred? Alfred son of Aethelwulf? Alfred of Wessex?"

"The very same," the nurse replied, smiling gently. She dipped the cloth into the bowl.

"But I thought he was... Isn't he...?" my voice faded as she gently wiped my brow.

"He stayed with you for an hour last night and came again this morning hoping you would wake."

"Prince Alfred stayed with me last night and came again this morning?" I echoed bewildered, pushing away the blanket.

"My lady - you must rest, you are confused," she said softly.

"But I must go to him," I replied, determined. "I must go to the prince. I must thank him for his courage and his bravery!" I swung my legs across the side of the bed to get up, but immediately broke into another fit of coughing.

The nurse placed a hand on my shoulder to restrain me.

"Hush my lady," she soothed. "The prince has gone to meet with King Frithwald - he will be away for many hours - perhaps he will not return until nightfall. He will come to see you when he can."

"He is with my father?" I asked, astonished.

Was I truly awake - was I not dreaming?

The nurse nodded, "King Frithwald is camped with his men at Anstieburgh - not five miles from here. The Wessex army will fight alongside his. The Vikings are our enemy too."

I blinked in amazement.

"Wessex will fight alongside Surrey?" I asked.

The nurse frowned.

"Do not trouble yourself with thoughts of war, my lady. For you must rest and regain your strength. The prince will call on you on his return."

I lay back down and laid my head on the pillow. The nurse gently wiped my forehead dry with a second cloth.

"You have a bruise developing, my lady," she said softly. "I will fetch some ointment."

She rose and turned to go.

"My mother, the queen," I asked. "Is she safe?"

"Indeed she is," came the reply. "The prince has made certain of it."

"There was someone else," I said, "a novice monk - he was with me when we were hiding - Cedric of Chertsey is his name. Do you know of him - did he escape?"

A smile broke out across the nurse's face.

"The prince said that you would ask of him," she answered with a twinkle in her eye. "I am charged to tell you that he is not far from here, you will see him this evening."

"I will?" My heart leapt.

"Indeed, my lady, but first you must rest. It will be many hours before the prince returns."

-

Darkness was falling as I slipped out of the hospital tent. Patiently I'd waited until the nurse's back was turned, then I'd made my escape. She had insisted that I wait, but I was determined to find Prince Alfred before he found me.

All through the afternoon I'd rehearsed my words of gratitude - I'd curtsey low before him, thank him profusely for rescuing me and for fighting alongside my father. I'd pledge to serve him in any way he wanted, ready to play my part, however small it might be.

I'd done my best to make myself look presentable. The only clean clothing that the nurse could find for me was an ill-fitting archer's uniform, but she'd given me some make-up to cover my bruise and to colour my cheeks. All afternoon I'd sat in front of a polished bronze mirror, trying my best to prepare myself to meet the prince - but every few moments I cast a glance towards the entrance of the tent, hoping in vain to see Cedric striding towards me.

I walked slowly through the Wessex camp, looking around nervously - it was enormous, or so it seemed. Row upon row of identical, dark green tents, stretching endlessly into the fading light. I'd expected the prince's tent to be easy to spot - to be the largest, the most prominent, but they were all identical. Anxiously I pulled at the archer's tunic - it was tight across my bust and hips and hung loose everywhere else. I was beginning to regret my decision to go looking for him - perhaps the nurse had been right - it would have been better to wait.

In the distance I could hear voices, there was a smell of cooking in the air - the soldiers would be gathering for their evening meal. Cautiously I walked towards the sounds, hoping perhaps I might see the prince eating with his men. I could scarcely ask for directions to his tent - my head would leave my shoulders the moment I did.

A figure was approaching, a soldier, moving swiftly in my direction. He spotted me and raised his hand in greeting.

"My lady!" he exclaimed, bowing low before me. "It is a relief to see you well - we had not expected you to be on your feet so soon."

I peered at the young man. He clearly recognised me, but I had not seen his face before.

"Prince Alfred, my lord?" I ventured.

The young man gave an embarrassed laugh.

"My lady," he replied, "I fear you are mistaken. I am Wilfred of Romsey. I have been proud to serve the prince loyally these past three years."

I felt my cheeks reddening.

"Forgive me, noble knight of Romsey, for it is the prince I seek," I said shyly. "Will you take me to him?"

"My lady, the prince is resting," Wilfred replied, glancing over my shoulder. "He has just returned from your father - you must go back to the infirmary - he will call upon you when he is ready."

I turned. I could see a faint light shining under the canvas of the tent behind me.

"This is his?" I asked, pointing towards the entrance and starting to walk towards it.

"No, my lady, you cannot," Wilfred protested, holding out an arm as if to restrain me. "The prince is resting. He must not be disturbed."

I pushed open the flap and stepped inside.

Sitting at a table, facing the entrance, was a young man with curly blond hair. He was busy writing with a quill, oblivious to my entry.

"My lord," I dropped into a respectful curtsey and lowered my gaze in humility.

"Forgive me, my lord," it was Wilfred entering the tent behind me. "I will escort the princess to the infirmary. She may wait for you there."

The young man looked up. My jaw dropped in astonishment. Those deep blue eyes were unmistakeable, even in the gloom of the tent. It was - it was him!

"I thank you Wilfred," the young man said with a gentle smile. "The princess and I will talk now. I bid you retire for your meal. I will send word when I need you."

The lieutenant bowed low and withdrew, leaving me alone with the prince.

"You are well rested, Elspeth?" he asked, rising to his feet to greet me. "I did not expect to see you up and out of bed so soon. I was about to call on you."