Naked by Eliza Redgold Read Free Book Online Page B

with its carved metal breastplate, the leather tight on my body. “If we have the will, the battle will be ours. Surely your father taught you that.”
    I nodded. I knew.
    “Do you wish to try to truce with Thurkill?” he asked me next.
    “You go to truce with him?” Edmund, mounted on his bay stallion on my other side, broke into our conversation. War-shirted. The silver wings of the cnihts of the Middle Lands swept his shoulders.
    Attached to both men’s saddles were the rounded shields of the Saxons. Edmund’s leather-wheeled, the metal at the center shiny and smooth. On Lord Leofric’s a double-headed eagle was carved. The largest of the hawks. I, too, carried a shield. An oval shape upon which the proud sparrow-hawk flew, amber-eyed.
    Leofric’s glance at Edmund was a dismissal. “To try for peace first is our trusted way. I’ve sworn to it since I became earl. If there’s a chance of saving Saxon blood we should take it.”
    Edmund snorted. “We should just go straight into battle!”
    “What do you say, Lady of Coventry?”
    First I studied one, then the other. Edmund’s face had reddened again. Leofric’s appeared emotionless.
    “Not a single life should be lost, if it can be saved before battle begins,” I said at last.
    Edmund flashed silver fury. I knew how angry he was with me. In his view my decisions were ill-judged. Dangerous. Foolish.
    With barely a yank of the rein Leofric rotated his horse. “Come with me, Lady.”
    Wind whipped my cheeks as we galloped across the plain. On the surly faces of the Danes I witnessed amazement that we should ride over to them. The jeering quieted. Mutters at the sight of Leofric. No one dared catcall as we pulled up our horses in front of a man on horseback.
    Thurkill the Tall.
    Trepidation turned to rage, burning on my tongue. My hand ached for my sword. Scream, swear, kill. I hadn’t known I had it inside me, this boiling cauldron of fury.
    “Will you truce, Dane?” Leofric threw down the words.
    Silence as Thurkill slowly removed his helmet.
    My gasp choked me. The ugliest man I’d ever seen, with a vast dome shaved to the scalp, his skin pitted and yellow, fight-scarred. His beard dirt brown, his eyes perturbed me most: small and cruel, as though they delighted in causing pain. Barreled in leather armor, the shoulders padded and iron-studded, his massive body had oxen-strength. His stare held the cunning of vermin.
    Tucking his helmet under his arm he gave a mocking bow. “The Earl of Mercia. You’re far from your lands.”
    “And you’re far from yours.” Leofric’s tone remained even. “Too far.”
    Thurkill grimaced. Twisted his massive head. It seemed as if maggots crawled over my skin. “This must be the new Lady of Coventry.”
    “Because you killed my father who was lord,” I burst out.
    “A bold maid!” Thurkill sneered. “Ah yes. I remember your father and your pretty mother, too. A bold one like you.”
    Fury boiled in my gullet. Fury and fear. I gulped them down.
    My mother. Suffering. At the mercy of this brutal monster.
    “You’ll pay for what you did to my parents, Thurkill.”
    “ Nidstang. ” A Danish curse. Foul to the ear. “Save your threats. The whole of the Middle Lands are mine for the taking with only a maid to defend them.”
    “Do you not see me before you, Dane? Lady Godiva is not alone.”
    A leer at Leofric. “Is that so?”
    “I’m not here for a day’s ride. The warriors of Mercia will stand beside the men of the Middle Lands until you are defeated, as you were in the north.”
    Strength surged through me at Leofric’s words. I’d been unsure of my decision to let his warriors fight alongside my men. In front of Thurkill the Tall, I could only feel relief to have the Mercian lord beside me.
    “You challenge me?”
    Leofric shrugged. Never would I have guessed he was in the presence of the man who had killed his brother Northman, he remained so calm.
    Thurkill grunted. “Did you think I’d quake