Nightfall till Daybreak (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 2) by Jayne Castel Page B
Authors: Jayne Castel
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stared at each other,
the smile faded from his lips.
Freya wrenched free of Aidan’s embrace and stepped back from
him. She could feel her cheeks heating up from the intensity of his gaze.
“Goodnight.” She mustered as much cool dismissal as she could
in that word, but it merely brought that conceited smirk back to his face.
Freya joined Hilda at the pail of soapy water and began to
wash the cups. She felt Aidan’s gaze on her for a moment or two, but when she
finally risked a glance in his direction, she saw him making his way over to
the fire pit. Piles of furs, for Sigeberht’s highest ranking thegns , had
been laid out around the edge of the pit. Aidan chose one of them and sat down,
pulling off his boots.
Freya hurriedly looked away before he caught her staring.
***
Sigeberht’s hall broke their fast with griddle bread, cheese
and small, sweet onions. It was simple fare but Sigeberht had straight-forward
tastes when it came to all things, including food.
Freya blinked sleepily as she ladled a thin broth into earthen
bowls and placed them on a wooden tray. Once she had filled the bowls, she
carried the tray to the long table where Sigeberht was breaking his fast with
his mother and step-cousins. Aidan was seated to Sigeberht’s right; Freya made
a point of looking through him when he tried to catch her gaze.
“Thank you Freya,” Aidan said when she passed him a bowl of
broth. The others all looked up from their meals and Freya silently cursed him.
It was unseemly to address a theow by name. Doing so, made it appear as
if she and Aidan were intimate.
Annan grinned at Aidan, broke off a piece of griddle bread and
dipped it in his broth.
“I wish the serving wenches in our hall at Snape were as
comely as this one.” He winked at Aidan.
Her face burning, Freya hastily moved down the table.
Fortunately, Sigeberht ignored the younger men’s comments and
continued the conversation that Freya’s arrival had interrupted.
“I am sorry to hear of your father,” Sigeberht addressed
Annan, Aethelhere and Aethelwold. “Eni was always good to me as a boy.”
Annan smiled, sadness briefly lighting in his blue eyes.
“There will never be another man like my father,” he said quietly;
his brothers nodded their agreement.
Seaxwyn cast her nephew a sympathetic look across the table.
“They were inseparable: Raedwald and Eni. Your father was never the same after
Raedwald’s death.”
Their words cast a somber mood across the table.
“Still,” Seaxwyn said before taking a sip of broth, “they are
with Woden now, watching over us all.”
“Perhaps.” Sigeberht’s mouth twisted. “If you believe in the
old gods. Some of us beg to differ.”
“They are the only gods,” Seaxwyn replied coolly, her gaze resting
on the iron cross that her son wore around his neck.
Sigeberht’s expression darkened.
“I had heard that you had a closed mind to the teachings of
Christ.” His voice was harsh, “but even Raedwald saw the truth in his later
years. Was he not baptized?”
Seaxwyn regarded Sigeberht with thinly veiled contempt; the
fragile reconnection between mother and son had dissolved.
“He was baptized, to appease that meddling monk who nagged
him, day-in, day-out. I was relieved when that fool left Rendlaesham.”
Freya watched the brewing argument with fascination. She had
never come across a woman as outspoken as Seaxwyn. Even her mother, who was in
no way meek, would not have dared openly criticize one of her male kin in front
of other men. Frankly, Freya was in awe of this woman – and a little frightened
for her.
“I do hope you are not going to become a bore Sigeberht the
Righteous,” Seaxwyn continued, oblivious to her son’s thunderous expression.
“Be warned that I have no patience for it. I have lost my husband and both my
sons cruelly. I will not have you tell me it was your god’s will!”
Sigeberht slammed down his cup on the table, splashing milk
over its
the smile faded from his lips.
Freya wrenched free of Aidan’s embrace and stepped back from
him. She could feel her cheeks heating up from the intensity of his gaze.
“Goodnight.” She mustered as much cool dismissal as she could
in that word, but it merely brought that conceited smirk back to his face.
Freya joined Hilda at the pail of soapy water and began to
wash the cups. She felt Aidan’s gaze on her for a moment or two, but when she
finally risked a glance in his direction, she saw him making his way over to
the fire pit. Piles of furs, for Sigeberht’s highest ranking thegns , had
been laid out around the edge of the pit. Aidan chose one of them and sat down,
pulling off his boots.
Freya hurriedly looked away before he caught her staring.
***
Sigeberht’s hall broke their fast with griddle bread, cheese
and small, sweet onions. It was simple fare but Sigeberht had straight-forward
tastes when it came to all things, including food.
Freya blinked sleepily as she ladled a thin broth into earthen
bowls and placed them on a wooden tray. Once she had filled the bowls, she
carried the tray to the long table where Sigeberht was breaking his fast with
his mother and step-cousins. Aidan was seated to Sigeberht’s right; Freya made
a point of looking through him when he tried to catch her gaze.
“Thank you Freya,” Aidan said when she passed him a bowl of
broth. The others all looked up from their meals and Freya silently cursed him.
It was unseemly to address a theow by name. Doing so, made it appear as
if she and Aidan were intimate.
Annan grinned at Aidan, broke off a piece of griddle bread and
dipped it in his broth.
“I wish the serving wenches in our hall at Snape were as
comely as this one.” He winked at Aidan.
Her face burning, Freya hastily moved down the table.
Fortunately, Sigeberht ignored the younger men’s comments and
continued the conversation that Freya’s arrival had interrupted.
“I am sorry to hear of your father,” Sigeberht addressed
Annan, Aethelhere and Aethelwold. “Eni was always good to me as a boy.”
Annan smiled, sadness briefly lighting in his blue eyes.
“There will never be another man like my father,” he said quietly;
his brothers nodded their agreement.
Seaxwyn cast her nephew a sympathetic look across the table.
“They were inseparable: Raedwald and Eni. Your father was never the same after
Raedwald’s death.”
Their words cast a somber mood across the table.
“Still,” Seaxwyn said before taking a sip of broth, “they are
with Woden now, watching over us all.”
“Perhaps.” Sigeberht’s mouth twisted. “If you believe in the
old gods. Some of us beg to differ.”
“They are the only gods,” Seaxwyn replied coolly, her gaze resting
on the iron cross that her son wore around his neck.
Sigeberht’s expression darkened.
“I had heard that you had a closed mind to the teachings of
Christ.” His voice was harsh, “but even Raedwald saw the truth in his later
years. Was he not baptized?”
Seaxwyn regarded Sigeberht with thinly veiled contempt; the
fragile reconnection between mother and son had dissolved.
“He was baptized, to appease that meddling monk who nagged
him, day-in, day-out. I was relieved when that fool left Rendlaesham.”
Freya watched the brewing argument with fascination. She had
never come across a woman as outspoken as Seaxwyn. Even her mother, who was in
no way meek, would not have dared openly criticize one of her male kin in front
of other men. Frankly, Freya was in awe of this woman – and a little frightened
for her.
“I do hope you are not going to become a bore Sigeberht the
Righteous,” Seaxwyn continued, oblivious to her son’s thunderous expression.
“Be warned that I have no patience for it. I have lost my husband and both my
sons cruelly. I will not have you tell me it was your god’s will!”
Sigeberht slammed down his cup on the table, splashing milk
over its
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