Daughter of the Wolf Read Online Free Page A

smith?’
    â€˜Cuthred?’ She knew full well they had good men at Donmouth, but it was gratifying to know that the world had noticed. ‘Indeed we do, and his son has started working with him at the forge.’
    Edmund shook his head. ‘Your father’s a lucky man. Smith, steward, shepherd – it’s a tight ship at Donmouth. And Widia – your huntsman is envied by the king himself. I hope Radmer counts his blessings?’
    She nodded.
    â€˜And, tell me, what has your father said about marrying again?’
    â€˜Nothing!’ She was startled into a yelp.
    â€˜Nothing? Really? It’s been a couple of years.’
    Elfrun knew exactly how long it had been.
    â€˜Nothing to you, at least.’ Edmund ran his tongue over the lower edge of his moustache. ‘How about naming an heir?’
    She shook her head, increasingly uncomfortable under this arrow-storm of questions.
    â€˜Well, well.’ He looked at her for a moment, a calculating light in his eyes. ‘But that holy priest your uncle has a son or two who could step in, am I right? Is that the way the dice are rolling?’
    And all at once Elfrun hated him, the hint of malice in his voice and the way that his moustache drooped raggedly over his mouth so that she could barely see his lips move when he spoke. ‘One son,’ she said coldly. Athulf’s parting smirk was still rankling.
    â€˜Just the one? Really?’ Edmund cackled. ‘And no chance for Ingeld to get more, I suppose, now that he has to leave York and head the Donmouth minster. Every step stalked by your father. That’s made us laugh!’ Suddenly he was looming down over her, close enough for her to see the red veins that threaded his eyes, the pores pocking the tip of his nose. ‘You want my advice? Don’t let Radmer’ – he jerked his head towards the king’s tent – ‘keep you withering on the vine at home. He will, you know, just because it suits him. I know him.’ He spat in the grass. ‘He should marry you off. You’re getting valuable.’ And now he sat down next to her and leaned in even closer, his thigh hard against hers, and she could smell last night’s beef and beer on his breath. ‘Are you ready for a man? You’re a skinny little thing, but one never can tell. And Donmouth could make any girl look attractive.’ She pulled back as far as she dared without being rude, revolted by his proximity, and he laughed.
    â€˜My father asked you to keep an eye on me,’ she said stiffly.
    â€˜So he did.’ He looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. ‘And that’s just what I’m doing. And you know what men call Radmer?’
    â€˜Call him? The King’s Wolf.’
    â€˜The King’s Wolf. Indeed. And do you know why?’
    He was leaning in, and she shifted another inch towards the end of the bench, talking fast to keep him at bay, repeating words she had heard in the hall. ‘Because Donmouth’s the gate to Northumbria, and he guards it. Hold the river, and the estuary, and the kingdom is strong.’
    â€˜And that’s not all he guards, is it, Osberht’s pet wolf?’ He seemed to think this was funny. ‘Radmer’s been growling and snapping at strangers on the king’s behalf for twenty years. He’s proud. He should be.’ Edmund turned to look at the king’s tent. ‘But with Tilmon back he won’t be growling. He’ll be wanting to go for the throat.’ He laughed. ‘Exciting times.’
    He was still much too close. Elfrun could feel the warmth and heaviness of him leaning against her, but she was right at the end of the bench now, the edge digging into her right buttock. Any further and she would fall off. All she wanted was to get up and walk away, but Abarhild would be shocked when she heard of such discourtesy to a kinsman.
    And what if he followed her, shouted at