The Second Lost Tale of Mercia: Ethelred the King by Jayden Woods

The Second Lost Tale of Mercia:
    Ethelred the King
    Jayden Woods
    Smashwords Edition
    Copyright 2010 Jayden Woods
    Edited by Malcolm Pierce

    “ [Ethelred] was perhaps the only
thoroughly bad King among all the Kings of the English of the
West-Saxon line; he seems to have been weak, cowardly, cruel, and
bad altogether. He was always doing things at wrong times and
leaving undone what he should have done, so that he is called
Ethelred the Unready, that is the man without rede or
counsel.”

    --Freeman, Edward. Old English History for
Children pg. 190

    *

    Corfe-Gate, Dorset
    978 A.D.

    Ethelred watched longingly as his
half-brother strode with his men to the exit of the stronghold.
They looked so handsome, regal, and powerful. Their spurs chimed
over the cobbles as they walked, their soft tunics rippled in the
breeze, and their cheeks glowed with the pleasure of fellowship.
King Edward, walking in the middle, was in fact the smallest of the
men, and yet he was the center of their attention and devotion. The
sixteen-year-old king had grown to fit his beautifully embroidered
boots, and the crown seemed to glitter more brightly on his
auburn-haired head than it ever had on their father’s.
    The king stopped suddenly and turned to look
at Ethelred, as if he had sensed his younger brother’s stare.
Ethelred stepped back a little, hiding in the shadow of a stone
column, and gulped.
    “Ethelred?”
    Ethelred could see the smiles gathering on
the faces of Edward’s soldiers. They wanted to laugh at him, and
they were only holding it in because he would have been king, if
Edward was not. Remembering this made him straighten up a little
and lean into the sunshine.“Yes, what is it?”
    Edward strolled closer, hands on his hips.
Ethelred noticed for the first time that the king was getting a
nice, cherry brown beard on his chin. Ethelred touched his own chin
self-consciously; at barely eleven years of age, he was far from
being able to grow his own.
    “Ethelred, I think you should come hunting
with us!”
    Ethelred blinked at his half-brother in
shock. Could he really mean it? Or was he mocking him somehow?
Ethelred glanced nervously at Edward’s companions. Were they all
playing some sort of big joke?
    “Well?” Edward leaned down, planting a
thickly-gloved hand on Ethelred’s shoulder.“Don’t you want to?”
    “What, uh …” Ethelred shifted on his feet,
suddenly conscious of how far Edward had to lean down to look him
in the eye.“What sort of game will you hunt?”
    “Game?” Edward straightened up, letting him
go and shrugging.“Whatever game the hawk finds for us!”
    “Hawk?” Ethelred’s eyes glittered with
jealousy. He had always wanted to hunt with a hawk.
    “That’s right. We don’t have a plan, little
brother. That’s the fun of it.”
    Ethelred gulped. The notion was exciting, but
it also made him nervous.“Mother says a servant should be sent out
first, to find the game and—”
    “Damn that.” Edward curled his lip and spat
to the side.“And damn your mother.”
    Ethelred flushed despite himself. Edward had
never gotten along with his step-mother very well, but normally he
remained polite about it. Ethelred didn’t want to argue with
Edward, but could he let an insult like that slide? He glanced
nervously about, uncertain of what to do once more.
    “Come now, Ethelred, do you want to come or
not?”
    “Yes.” He felt his heart swelling within
him.“Yes. Yes, I will!”
    “There’s a good boy.” Edward knocked his fist
against the younger boy’s shoulder.
    Ethelred’s limbs tingled with excitement as
he joined Edward and the tall, proud soldiers on their walk
outside. A warming breeze kissed his cheeks and he took a deep,
happy breath. He saw the horses already saddled and pulled from the
stables, waiting for their noble mounts to ride them into the
forest. He looked out at the sharply rolling hills and chalky
cliffs surrounding the Corfe-Gate stronghold and felt almost like