The First Lost Tale of Mercia: Golde the Mother Read Free Page B

presence here as a burden, or whether he had
enjoyed the company, despite its limitations. She wondered if he
considered himself a happy man, or merely content, or if he ever
paused to question his lot in life at all.
    Then she looked at her son, his pale curls
strewn in the moonlight. She watched his small shape rise and fall,
and realized that when it came to Eadric, she did not have to
wonder. She knew suddenly, without a doubt, that Eadric would never
be as content as Hunwald living a simple life among pigs. He was
too smart, proud, and ambitious. He would always want more for
himself, she suspected, and part of that was her own fault. She
believed, herself, that people were not given a set lot in life:
they forged their own paths, whether they realized it or not.
Perhaps she had been wrong to cut him off so sharply when he spoke
of living a life like Alfric’s. The notion that Eadric might ever
be in a position similar to Alfric’s simply terrified her.
    She got up and crawled to Eadric’s side. She
lay a gentle hand on his head, though he did not stir. Whether he
heard her or not, she didn’t know; and even if he had been awake,
she spoke so softly that her words might not have been audible.
    “Eadric,” she whispered, “I want you to know
something. I think you can achieve anything in this life that you
set your mind to, no matter how impossible it may seem. I believe
you can eventually have all those things you dream of, if you truly
want them. Most of those things are simply not worth the trouble.
All of this fighting and bloodshed … what is it for? It is
foolishness.” She sighed, thinking that she was beginning to sound
like a fool, herself. “I suppose all I am trying to say is: be
careful what you wish for. Pick your battles wisely. Enjoy what you
have and take what you can reach ... and all will be well.”
    She thought that her words made very little
sense, especially to a sleeping seven-year-old boy, but she knew
she said them more for her own sake than his. Feeling a little
better, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. After that, she
finally slept.
    But she woke up much too late. The cock had
already crowed. Now the farm was too quiet. Alfric and his men were
gone.
    And so was Eadric.
    *
    The pigs had scattered over the hills. She
found Hunwald in the barn, the dog whining at his side. He was
bleeding from the stomach.
    She yelled with dismay as she lifted him up
and cradled him in her arms. She rocked him gently, but her mind
seemed to spin in circles. “Hunwald? Hunwald!” As she settled him
in her lap, more blood spilled from the stab-wound in his stomach.
Her eyes widened with horror, too shocked to blink even as tears
flooded her vision and nearly blinded her. “Hunwald!”
    She practically screamed this time, and at
last he stirred. His eyes were even grayer than usual, devoid of
life and energy. They seemed unable to focus as he stared into her
face.
    “I’m so sorry, Hunwald.” Her voice shook with
sobs. “Who did this to you?”
    “One of ... Lord Alfric’s men.” Golde could
not believe Hunwald would bother to call Alfric “lord” after what
had been done to him. But such was Hunwald’s nature. “Eadric ... he
did not see it happen. Don’t worry.”
    She clutched him tighter against her. “Where
is Eadric?”
    “He went ... with them. He wanted to go, but
I tried to stop him ... anyway. That’s why they …” He glanced down
at his wound and groaned.
    “Oh, Hunwald ... you never deserved any of
this. I am so sorry.”
    “Please, look after ... look after the
pigs.”
    It was silly for a dying request, she
thought. But she could not smile. “After I find Eadric, I ... I’ll
try.”
    It was a promise she was not sure she could
keep, but hoped she would, anyway. Her arms shook as she considered
abandoning him. She had to go after Eadric. But she could not leave
Hunwald to die here, slowly and painfully, while elvish sprites
festered his wounds and he writhed in