Aediva climbed out of bed carefully, wrapping a cloak around her shoulders and tugging the hood forward to disguise herself. Then she stole down the stairs, past the hall and out into the dawn, trying to concentrate on each passing footstep and not on what lay ahead. If she stopped to think about what she was doing she might never be able to go through with it.
A pale grey mist hovered over the bailey as she made her way towards the barn where the prisoners were being held, its silvery droplets of moisture lending the scene an unreal, dream-like quality. She felt as though she were in a dream herself, moving against her own volition, even against her own wishes, scarcely able to believe the risk she was taking. Common sense urged her to turn back, but conscience drove her onwards. She couldn’t go back—not yet...not until she’d spoken to Edmund. If surrender was his best chance of survival she had to tell him so to his face.
She glanced up at the tower guiltily. Behind the shutters Svend was still asleep. With any luck he’d never know she’d been gone. Not that she was violating his trust—not exactly. He’d said that speaking to Edmund was a bad idea and told her not to argue, but he hadn’t actually forbidden her. And she’d made no promise—wasn’t breaking her word. She was acting against his wishes, but she only intended to talk to Edmund, that was all! She wasn’t betraying Svend. She had every intention of telling him what she’d done later—much later.
Even so, if he were to wake up now...
She had a feeling it would make all their other arguments seem like friendly discussions. He’d probably lock her up too. But it was a risk she had to take. If she didn’t do something she’d feel like a traitor to her people for ever.
She straightened her shoulders as she approached the guards at the barn door, trying to look as though her arrival ought to be expected.
‘Lady Aediva?’ One of them stepped forward, exchanging a pointed look with his companion. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Matthieu, isn’t it?’ She flashed her brightest smile. ‘I need to speak with the prisoners. I have a message for them.’
&nb
sp; ‘It’s very early, my lady.’ He looked visibly perturbed. ‘My orders are to let no one in.’
She let her smile fade deliberately slowly. ‘I’m the warden’s wife. Are you refusing me permission?’
‘No, my lady, but the orders came direct from Sir Svend. Perhaps if I could speak to him first...?’
‘My husband is asleep and my message is urgent.’ She feigned affront. ‘But perhaps you’d like to wake him up and ask him if I’m lying? I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear your good opinion of me.’
‘Pardon, my lady, I meant no offence.’ The guard cast a pleading look towards his companion before backing away.
‘Good.’
She averted her gaze, amazed that he couldn’t read the guilt on her face. She hadn’t been at all certain that her bluff would work, but he was already lifting the locking bar, beckoning her forward with the look of a man who wished he were anywhere else in the world.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside. Light spilled in through the open door to reveal the dark silhouettes of at least twenty men lying on the floor.
‘Edmund?’ She whispered his name, almost afraid to disturb the eerie hush.
‘What are you doing here?’
She recognised his voice at once, though she couldn’t distinguish his face.
‘Edmund, where are you?’
‘I said, what are you doing here?’
A shadow at the back stood up and started to move towards her, slowly and steadily, like a predator stalking its prey.
‘Have you come to gloat?’
‘No! Of course not!’
He stepped into a patch of sunlight, revealing a handsome face made ugly by hatred. ‘Then what do you want, Aediva?’
She lifted her chin, resisting the urge to back away, looking around the room as she spoke. ‘I want to help you. You’re going to be taken east today to the King’s deputy for sentencing. If you surrender and swear fealty he might show mercy. You could still be set free.’
‘To live under Norman rule?’ Edmund’s expression was scathing.
‘It’s your only chance.’
‘We’re not all as keen to surrender as you.’