The Breaking Dawn (The Kingdom of Mercia Book 1) by Jayne Castel Read Free Book Online

watched her brother
walk outside to be whipped that morning. She was already regretting her
decision – only now it was too late to put things right. Without Seward’s
reassuring presence, she felt vulnerable in the king’s hall.
    Despite Cyneswide’s graciousness, the other women
here were not welcoming. Merwenna had caught them whispering, and could only
imagine it was about her. Once or twice, she had caught some of the women
staring – and their gazes had not been friendly.
    Merwenna did not belong here. She was a village
girl, and by rights should not have been sitting with the high born ladies. Her
father had once served Raedwald of the East Angles many years earlier, but now
he was of lesser rank. These days, he served Weyham’s ealdorman. Merwenna had
been proud of her father’s rank at home, but here she realized that he would
have been treated as a landless peasant among folk such as these. It was only
the queen’s generosity that allowed her to remain here, and everyone present
knew the truth of it.
    Merwenna’s gaze traveled then to Cerwen. The slave
was sweeping food scraps away from the hearth. The girl’s pretty face was pale,
her eyes hollowed. Merwenna’s gaze shifted to the collar about Cerwen’s neck
and felt her own throat constrict. She had not been among the eager crowd that
had followed the lovers outside, clamoring to witness their whipping. Still,
from inside the hall, she had heard Cerwen’s screams. From her brother, she had
heard nothing.
    Suddenly, Merwenna could not stand to be inside the
Great Hall a moment longer. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her.
The sharp glances from the other women were like boning knifes, stabbing and
twisting till she could bear it no more. She needed air.
    “Excuse me,” Merwenna put her mending aside and
rose to her feet. “I must visit the privy. I shall be back soon.”
    Whispers followed her, as she crossed the floor.
She could feel the weight of their stares pressing between her shoulder blades.
    Merwenna let out a long breath of relief as she
stepped beyond the doors. Outside, the afternoon sun slanted onto the wide
yard, cooking the hard-packed dirt. It was so hot that the dogs that usually
prowled the space had taken refuge in the shade, tongues lolling. The sun was a
white orb in a hard blue sky. Yet, despite the heat, Merwenna’s breathing steadied.
At least here, she was not scrutinized.
    She made her way down the stone steps to the yard
and moved into the shade, near one of the panting dogs. The beast paid her no
mind; it was too intent on snapping at flies that buzzed too close.
    Although she was lightly dressed, in her best green wealca , a tube linen dress with shoulder straps attached with broaches,
she felt sweat begin to slide down her spine. There were few folk about on this
unusually hot late summer’s afternoon. However, Merwenna spied two warriors,
sweating in boiled leather, guarding the gates leading into the yard.
    “What are you doing out here on your own, girl?”
    A rough male voice sounded behind Merwenna, causing
her to start. She whirled to see Rodor standing a couple of feet behind her,
his cold gaze fixed upon her. His sleeveless tunic was dark with sweat, and he
smelled of horses.
    “Just taking some air,” Merwenna replied nervously.
There was something about Rodor that put her nerves on edge – that and the fact
he had been the one to whip her brother. Rodor said little but thought a lot;
she could see it in those gimlet eyes. There was also cruelty in the lines of
his face.
    “Careful,” he smiled. “Wandering off alone makes
you look as if you’re looking for the same kind of trouble as your brother.”
    Rodor looked her up and down speculatively.
“Perhaps you are.”
    Merwenna was horrified by his words, but tried her
best not to show it.
    “It was too hot in the hall,” she replied,
pretending that she had not understood.
    Rodor’s gaze flicked to the pole that stood in the
center of the