Avelynn (41 page)

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Authors: Marissa Campbell

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“You cannot possibly mean it. Demas will kill you if he finds you.”

“I heard you and Ealhswith talking. I will go to her aunt in Mercia. I'll not sail another moment longer with the likes of them.” He didn't bother hiding the vehemence in his voice or stares.

“Edward, please, try to understand.”

“Help me to shore,” he said to Ealhswith.

Alrik stood by my side. “Olaf and Cormac will see them both safely away.”

I glared at him. “I can't leave him here.”

“He is old enough to decide. Your friend will see to his protection. I can offer him no such security.”

Ealhswith hugged me, her mouth next to my ear, her voice a whisper. “He will come to understand in time. I will make sure he knows the truth, about everything—your father, your grandmother. All of it.”

I felt as though the world had collapsed, the force breaking me in two. “Edward.”

“God keep you, sister.”

Ealhswith's hand slid slowly out of mine, and I watched in silence as Edward and Ealhswith dropped over the side of the ship and were marched to shore.

“Gods keep you safe, Edward Eanwulfson. I love you.”

*   *   *

The boat pulled away, and we headed out to sea. The weather was exceptionally fine, clear and sunny during the day, but at night the air teased the cold water until thick fog blanketed the ocean. Alrik kept a constant vigil, fearing an enemy ship would materialize out of the mists. It was a tense journey, as imagination played with shadows and sounds echoed in the night. We were all grateful to ride the tidal flow into the River Parrett.

We made Avalon by midmorning, and the men scattered, hunting fresh game and fish. Alrik strolled beside me as I sought my mother's grave.

The clearing opened before us and my mother's stone stood cold and barren in a sea of early-blooming bluebells. “I need to be alone,” I said.

He surveyed the wilderness and unsheathed his knife. “Take this,” he said, handing me the sharpened steel. “I will give you privacy, but I will not go far.”

“Thank you.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I watched him disappear into the trees.

I read the Ogham symbols carved into the stone,
Here lies Aileen, daughter of the gods, loving wife of Eanwulf
, and felt a deep aching emptiness. I didn't know what to say. Was this the last time I would look upon her grave? Would I come back to England? Would I ever see Edward again?

I fell, prostrating myself at the stone's base. “Mother, please, forgive me.”

“There's nothing to forgive.” A woman's gentle voice reached out from the past. I closed my eyes tight, fearing the whisper would fade away.

“You are my daughter. I love you.”

Never in my life had I so desperately wanted to hear those words. My heart constricted, and tears slid down my cheeks.

I pulled myself up on trembling arms and knelt in the crushed flowers and fallen leaves. Slowly, I opened my eyes. It was the most beautiful vision I had ever seen. My mother, dressed in her finest gown of light blue linen, her dark curls cascading over her shoulders, stood before me.

“I've lost Edward. Father was taken from me, Muirgen—Mama. I'm so sorry.”

“Edward must forge his own path. Your father and grandmother are here with me. We're watching and guiding you.”

“I've let you all down. I should have married Demas. None of this would have happened.”

“What would marrying Demas have accomplished? Do you think the men behind his actions would have stopped there? Once they had control, do you think you would still be alive? You kept your spirit, your heart, and your strength. You stayed true to yourself. I'm proud of you.”

Words caught in my throat. I could barely see her translucent form through the veil of tears.

“The world needs your strength, Avelynn. Your people need you. Osric will order all the men who fought for you to surrender their lands. He will mark them as traitors and cast them out. All the widowed women, all Wedmore's innocent children, will be homeless and penniless. Your people are coming home to Avalon.”

“I can't help anyone. I'm a condemned traitor.” I wiped the tears with the back of my hand. “I'm here with Alrik—the enemy! He has sixty Viking warriors with him. I can't stay.”

“You must try to save the people of England from Osric's cruelty and ambitions. You have been chosen.”

The vision flickered, and I jolted forward, my heart pounding, knowing she would soon disappear.

“Please don't leave me.”

“You must keep going. You must keep fighting.”

“Mama.” The vision flickered and disintegrated like dust motes settling in a ray of light until there was nothing left. I fell to the ground and wept. I wept for Edward, my father, Muirgen, my mother. I wept for injustice, cruelty, and helplessness. My ribs heaved and my chest ached with the grief rending me asunder. I held nothing in. Like a small child pleading for comfort, all the pain I had buried deep inside burbled out in swells of grief. I pressed my forehead into the earth, my hands tight around clumps of loose soil. Eventually, the tension melted from my body, and I rolled onto my back, staring dry-eyed into a blue sky, my mind quieter, my breath even.

A long time passed as I lay in the coarse grass. I sat up, peeling away a crushed blade from my cheek. The sun was low on the horizon. It would soon be dusk. I leaned against the tree, feeling its strong, silent support, and listened. Insects buzzed. Birds sang softly in the branches overhead. My breath was deep and slow.

How could I convince Alrik to stay? How could I convince his men? I plucked a shaft of grass and twirled it around my fingers. There were plenty of wealthy villages along the southern and western coasts of Wales. The Welsh were long an enemy of England, and Alrik could make hasty attacks on their settlements and walk away with enough plunder to appease his men. And the women of Wedmore would need husbands. Men, whether Saxon or Viking, were always looking for women. Perhaps I could convince the Vikings to settle here. There was plenty of game and fish at hand.

Gods, I was being ridiculous.

Yet the idea persisted. What if it worked? Why should I run away like a coward with my tail between my legs? I had done nothing wrong. My predicament was the fault of two men, Osric and Demas.

I looked at my mother's grave. The bastards had taken away everything important to me—my family, my home, and my freedom—yet rather than fight, I was fleeing like a frightened rabbit hiding from the boar. I was not a rabbit. I had never been a rabbit. Somehow, I would prove my innocence and take back my freedom.

Catching movement, I turned my head to the right. Where once the boar had stood, snorting and pawing at the ground, a timid doe stepped into the fading sunlight. Her large, beautiful eyes met mine. Forgiveness, love, fortitude, and peace enveloped me. I was certain the doe smiled and nodded before she turned and disappeared into the bush.

“What are you staring at?” Alrik said, striding into the clearing.

I stood, smiling. “A gift from my mother.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Then you found what you came here for?”

“Yes,” I said, letting him draw me close. “Faith and the strength to keep fighting.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Marissa Campbell
is the coauthor of the award-winning self-help book
Life: Living in Fulfillment Every Day
.
She is a proud member of the Historical Novel Society and an ERYT Hatha Yoga instructor and studio owner of Pure Intention Yoga. Campbell lives in Ontario, Canada. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

    

 

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CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

About the Author

Copyright

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.

An imprint of St. Martin's Press.

AVELYNN
. Copyright © 2015 by Marissa Campbell. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.thomasdunnebooks.com

www.stmartins.com

Cover design by Lisa Marie Pompilio

Cover photographs: girl © Jill Battaglia/Arcangel Images; hair extension © Guzel Studio/Shutterstock; boat © Ted Spiegel/Corbis; bird © Kichigin/Shutterstock; water © Simone Byrne/Arcangel Images; sky © Grisha Bruev/Shutterstock

The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

ISBN 978-1-250-08498-9 (trade paperback)

ISBN 978-1-250-06393-9 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-4668-6889-2 (e-book)

e-ISBN 9781466868892

Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].

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