The Dream Weavers by Barbara Erskine (books you have to read txt) 📕

She lowered her eyes again. ‘I was allowed to take away what was my due when I told them I was coming to seek your help,’ she said softly.

‘Strange. I heard you were deported.’ His gaze was steady. ‘For unspeakable crimes.’

She tightened her jaw. ‘The unspeakable crimes were not mine, sire.’

She dropped the pretence of coquettish weakness and met his eyes directly.

Behind them the hall was full of noise; the emperor’s household had finished eating and the house slaves were clearing the tables away. A band of musicians were tuning their instruments. Fresh wine and ale and mead was brought in; the glass beaker at her elbow was refreshed with wine though she hadn’t yet touched it. The roar of voices was growing louder and she wished she could speak to him somewhere quiet and private, but he made no move to end their public confrontation. Eyes were watching them and she became aware of several women, richly attired, who were standing nearby, ostensibly talking close to the great central hearth, taking enormous interest in what was going on on the dais nearby. The emperor held out a gold-rimmed drinking horn to a passing house servant and it was immediately refilled. He smiled thoughtfully. ‘I like women of spirit; I admired your father greatly.’

‘My father was a great king,’ she replied with dignity.

‘As was Beorhtric.’ His voice grew sharp.

She nodded less enthusiastically.

‘And you say your daughter has been kept from you by his successor, King Egbert.’

She bit her lip. ‘Indeed, my lord.’

‘Egbert who spent his days in exile under my protection.’

She tensed again. ‘He is a fair man and a good king,’ she conceded cautiously, ‘but cruel to remove a child from her mother.’

‘A child who could be married to a rival and carries with her the blood of her father.’

‘If she came to me, sire, I could ensure that she made a suitable marriage with your approval,’ she said carefully. ‘Or she could enter a convent and give her life to God. I would trust you to ensure she was safe.’

She hoped her face showed all the love and desperation of a loving mother. She was beginning to tire of the endless scrutiny of those sharp eyes fixed so acutely on her face. They held a cold intelligence that chilled her.

‘If she is indeed the daughter of her father,’ his voice was suddenly harsh.

She looked down, genuinely stunned. ‘Of course she’s her father’s daughter,’ she said indignantly.

‘Even though her father did not care for women?’

‘He cared enough to come to my bed as a husband, sire.’ She was blazing with anger. ‘Why do you think I—’ She caught the words back in time. ‘I can assure you that I was his true and loyal wife!’

To her amazement she saw his face light with amusement. ‘I believe you, madam!’ He quaffed the last of his wine with one swallow. ‘And we will talk of this again soon. If I am to give you my protection, I will have to give some thought to your future position. Until then I trust you will be comfortable in the queen’s guest hall.’ He looked towards the gathered women by the hearth at last and beckoned. Two of them stepped forward. ‘The lady Trude and the lady Waldrada served my late queen well. They will attend you.’ Standing up, he stepped to the edge of the dais and gestured towards the musicians. At once they began to play. She was forgotten.

Eadburh dropped a dignified curtsy towards the emperor but he was striding away towards a group of his thanes. His dogs had risen with him, one on each side, huge animals with dark, intelligent eyes, half hidden by fringes of silky hair, and she felt their gaze follow her thoughtfully as she moved towards door. First one and then the other looked beyond her and she saw their focus sharpen. One growled in its throat. She turned and followed their gaze.

Bea shrank back but there was nowhere to hide. The noise of the great hall, the richly clothed and armoured men and women swathed in silks and velvets, the swirling shadows of a thousand candles, the smell of food, the smoke from the fires and the steady threatening gaze of the great dogs, one black and one fawn, pinned her where she was. Eadburh raised her right hand, pointing at Bea and she feared the woman was commanding the dogs to attack, but as one they seemed to consider and then dismiss her as of no importance and they turned away to follow the emperor across the hall. The women were approaching, but the sound was fading. The music lingered for a few seconds as an echo in the air and then all was silence.

Bea took a deep breath. She could taste the lingering smoke from the roasting meat on her lips, smell the reek of the hall. Her ears were ringing with the noise of lute and rebec, horn and trumpet. And now in her room all was silence broken only as the cathedral clock struck the quarter.

With a sigh, Simon stood up from the table and walked across to the door. He could hear Felix snoring softly in the corner, hunched in his sleeping bag with his back to the single lamp on Simon’s desk. He had been asleep for hours. Simon glanced at his wristwatch. It was well after midnight. He eased the front door open, anxious not to disturb the boy, and slid outside into the cold night.

The clouds had drifted away to the north and the sky was ablaze with stars. He stood looking up, aware yet again that the view he was used to in London, the planets, a few of the brightest constellations at best, was outshone a thousand times over by the sheer number he could see here. The Milky Way was clearly visible, a great shawl sprawled overhead. It confused him. His usual signposts were harder to pick out. And