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calmly took a bite from a hunk of bread. They ate and couldn’t help but enjoy the food. A sharp tug on his tunic made Egfrid glance beneath the table, to find a small mottled hound boldly pawing his knee. He kicked it away, longing miserably for his own dog Woodruff.

CHAPTER 6
    Queen’s Boon

    T he hall was filled with the sound of loud voices and the clatter of gold and silver plates, as one delicious dish after another was presented.
    When a lull made it possible to speak, the queen turned to Egfrid. ‘The princess who led the procession is my oldest daughter Cyneburgh,’ she told him. ‘She’s named for my sister and all our young warriors want to marry her.’
    Egfrid nodded politely.
    The queen’s expression changed. ‘Tell me, how is my sister, the widowed queen?’
    Egfrid shrugged. ‘She wants to be a nun,’ he said.
    Cynewise looked thoughtful. ‘I remember a pale, quiet girl. We never saw each other again once I’d married Penda. My father converted to the Christian faith, but I had come to Mercia as a peace-weaver bride and felt that I couldn’t betray the gods of my husband’s kingdom. Your holy man might disagree, I think.’
    Egfrid made no reply. He sensed that the queen was not really talking to him, but to Chad.
    Woden’s priest turned angrily to the Christian monk, expecting a response that he could challenge, but Chad refused to rise to the provocation.
    â€˜You are a loyal wife, lady,’ he said.
    The queen smiled. ‘And I see that you are something of a peace-maker too. That is my son,’ she said, pointing to a young man with a pleasant face who sat at the king’s right hand. ‘His father always called him Beorn—little bear—and now he’s known as Prince Beorn.’
    Beorn raised his drink-horn to them in a cheerful manner. ‘Drink-hail!’ he cried.
    Egfrid could not help but smile.
    â€˜Beorn is soon to be made king of the Middle Angles,’ Cynewise added proudly.
    â€˜I think you have a younger son, lady,’ Egfrid said. ‘One who trains to be a warrior?’
    â€˜Yes,’ she said wistfully. ‘Wulfhere lives with his foster-father, one of Mercia’s greatest warriors. He’ll come back to us soon when he is battle-trained.’
    Egfrid sensed that he’d saddened her, but that made him resentful, for he had a mother who must be terrified for him.
    â€˜My mother will weep when she knows I’m taken hostage,’ he said.
    Cynewise nodded. ‘Yes, she’ll weep,’ she agreed. ‘Any mother would weep.’
    The queen sat quietly for a while and then turned from Egfrid to talk to her husband. The soft damp nose of the young hound came pushing into the boy’s hand for food again and with a sigh, he took a titbit from the table and fed it.
    The feast rolled on, as jugglers performed in the space behind the fire. Acrobats walked on their hands and danced to the rhythm of drums, followed by a girl with trained dogs that jumped through hoops and twisted through her legs. This act caused something of a commotion, for the creatures’ antics set the hunting hounds baying.
    At last the girl, her dogs and the hunting hounds were all shooed out of the hall, growling and snatching meat bones as they passed. Egfrid looked for the friendly pup, but he seemed to have gone with the rest.
    The hall grew quieter when they’d gone, and Penda sat back in his carved wooden chair and stroked his beard. He looked thoughtfully across at Egfrid, and then suddenly called forward the warriors who’d ridden north with him. They received gifts, gold armbands, rings and brooches—rewards for their loyalty and support.
    â€˜Shall we summon the songsters and fetch the harp-stool?’ Beorn asked when the gift-giving came to an end.
    â€˜Not yet,’ Penda said. ‘I have something important to say. One more gift to bestow.’
    Beorn looked