The Deepening Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 3) by Jayne Castel Read Free Book Online Page A

people.
    They did not speak. Instead, Aldfrid led the way, across an
antechamber and into the Great Hall of Tamworth.
    A vast circular chamber greeted Annan. There were two great
fire pits at one end and a high wooden platform at the other, with stairs
leading up to it. Heavy tapestries lined the damp stone walls and flames
flickered from clay cressets, illuminating the cavernous space in soft, golden
light. A row of narrow windows, high up, let out the smoke from the fire pits.
    At the far end, upon a stone dais stood King Penda of Mercia,
with his radiant blonde wife at his side. At the foot of the dais, her gaze
fixed upon his face stood another, very different, woman.
    Saewara of Tamworth – his betrothed.
    The Great Hall was packed with ealdormen, thegns and their
families. Each gaze bored into Annan as he walked the distance between the
doors and the dais. The crowd parted before him. His boots crunched on the
fresh rushes and he felt the heat emanating from the fire pit closest to him.
    The time had come for him to meet his betrothed – and there
she was before him.
    Frankly, she was not what he had expected.
    He had expected a tall, pale, ice-blonde woman; hard-featured
and cold like her brother. However, the woman before him bore no resemblance to
King Penda of Mercia. She was small with long dark hair. Her figure was hidden
under a voluminous green cape but her face was heart-shaped and her skin milky.
She had a full mouth, delicate features and eyes that were the color of the sky
before a thunderstorm.
    Her gaze was riveted upon Annan but her expression was one of
barely concealed terror, as if she watched a demon approach.
    Annan had never seen a woman quite like her, and he could not
help but compare her to the woman he had left behind in Rendlaesham. Hereswith
was a willowy blonde, a beauty of Germanic stock like many on the eastern coast
of Britannia; yet the woman before him resembled a Celt. That was not to say
she was unattractive, it was just that Annan had always preferred tall, slender
blondes – and Saewara of Tamworth was none of those things.
     
    Saewara’s pulse throbbed in her temples and she clenched her
fists against her skirts in an effort to control her panic. She watched as a
tall, blond man stepped through the archway into the main hall and crossed the
wide space toward her. Behind him trailed a group of East Angle warriors. One
of them, a tall man with dark hair and a forbidding expression, carried
something large covered by a linen cloth.
    Despite her fear, she could not help but observe the man who
approached. Annan was far more handsome, and younger, than she had expected.
His mane of golden hair was tied back in a thong at the nape of his neck. He
was clean shaven and dressed in a fine linen tunic, a black leather vest, and calf-skin
breaches. A thick, rabbit fur cloak hung from his broad shoulders. Like many of
the men here, his arms were bare, and his muscular biceps wore numerous gold
and bronze arm rings – all tributes to his valor in battle. He moved with a
loose-limbed, confident stride, with his back ramrod straight. When he drew
closer, Saewara saw that his eyes were a deep blue.
    Annan, King of the East Angles, stopped before the high seat
and, for the first time, made eye-contact with Saewara.
    She stared back at him, and for a moment time stilled.
    Here was a man, very different to any she had known; she could
sense it. But whether that boded ill or well for her, she did not know. His
gaze held hers for a few moments and when he looked away, Saewara slowly released
the breath that she had been holding.
    Penda stepped down from the dais to greet Annan, and Saewara
was struck by how different the two kings were. They were both tall and blond,
but any similarity ended there. Penda’s looks were ice-cold, chiseled and hard;
whereas Annan’s golden hair and rugged good-looks gave him a warmth that made
her brother look even colder.
    “ Wes hāl. ” Penda greeted Annan