Queen Hereafter Read Online Free Page B

a haze of rain and sea spray, Margaret walked along the deck toward her brother, who sat with some of the Saxon lords who had fled England with them. The men looked damp and cold, clutching leather cloaks as protection from the elements. Edgar, blond hair straggling, looked young and earnest beside the mature warriors as he listened avidly to their conversation.
    She walked carefully on the slippery planking, past oarsmen who pulled hard as the boat cut a swath through surging water. Overhead, the prow was topped by a wooden curl rather than the dragon’s head carried by warships, for the ship was a wide, low merchant knorr. Beyond, steel-gray waves peaked white as she saw the second ship heaving on the seas behind the first.
    Edgar stood as she approached and the men made room for her to sit. She greeted each in turn: Morcar, grumbling, red-bearded, bitterto have been ousted from Northumbria; his capable brother, Edwin, earl of Mercia; Cospatric, the Saxon cousin of Malcolm Canmore; and Walde, a Northumbrian nobleman whose beauty and courtly eloquence were well known and his Saxon loyalty strong; he had William’s favor, and had been offered William’s niece Judith in marriage, as a bid to anchor Northumbrian fealties.
    This tough, clever Saxon lot had betrayed tyrannical William, infuriating him. With their Saxon army all but decimated, their Danish support almost gone, they now looked for Malcolm Canmore’s aid in their rebellion. They supported Edgar’s claim to the throne of England, yet Margaret did not entirely trust their influence over her brother, who was too young to lead the rebellion these lords favored. She felt wary on his behalf.
    But she smiled as she sat beside Edgar, who drew his leather covering over her head and shoulders. She huddled close, her braids pooling like damp golden ropes in her lap.
    “Are we nearing land?” she asked.
    “Aye. The oarsmen are heading for it,” Edgar replied. “The storm spun us about and the hull may be damaged, but we have hope now.”
    “Thank the saints.” She breathed out in relief.
    “We are still in danger of sinking,” Morcar said bluntly. “And we do not know if that land is Scotland or England. Go back to your mother, lady, and pray for our souls.” Morcar was a sour fellow; she had disliked him even in her uncle’s royal court. “We would be better off with the sea monsters than with the Normans.”
    “If it is Scotland, luck is with us,” Edwin said quietly. “We will be safe.”
    “If we are in Malcolm’s territory, aye,” Cospatric said. “Farther north, the Highland men who dislike their own king also dislike Saxons.”
    “Aye, and Malcolm will give us sanctuary … for the right fee.” Morcar looked at Margaret.
    “What price would that be, sir?” She looked at him directly, certain she knew what he meant.
    “Lady, go back to your mother and your prayers,” Morcar groused.
    “Give my sister credit for intelligence, sir,” Edgar said. “She is the best scholar in my family, and I vow she could outreason any clergyman on matters of theology and logic. If we are to negotiate—”
    “Some women are cleverer than is good for them,” Morcar snapped.
    Margaret shivered in a chill gust, but Morcar’s rudeness made her defiant. She would not leave just yet. “What bargain will you make with Malcolm of Scotland? He expects to meet with Edgar and some rebel lords—but I suspect he will be surprised to see the entire royal Saxon family and their household, all in need of asylum.”
    “We will negotiate for the safety and benefit of all,” Edgar said.
    “The Scottish king is unpredictable, they say,” she replied. “A savage warlord. We cannot guess what he wants.” If they meant to marry her off, she wanted to hear it said out loud, now. They avoided her gaze, even her brother—did that indicate something significant?
    “Your sister knows too much and not enough,” Morcar said. “We will do what is necessary. Go bid the