A Kingdom to Claim by Sian Ann Bessey EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sian Ann Bessey
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 15.6 MB
- Price: Free
Trowbridge, Wessex
May AD 871
The pungent aromas of roasting venison and sweet mead filled the
banquet hall. Servants flitted between the long tables, replenishing goblets,
bread baskets, and platters of fruit and meat. At Aisley’s right, a scop
plucked at his lyre, his melodic chants recounting the Saxons’ victory
against the Vikings at Ashdown almost six months earlier, and from their
positions at the head table, two of the king’s thegns raised their cups and
cheered. Others in the room took up the shout, expressing their loyalty to
the new king and a resolve to purge their land of the plundering horde from
the north.
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Aisley wrapped her narrow fingers around the wooden goblet before her.
At only twelve years of age, she had never before attended a banquet of this
grandeur—certainly none that boasted the King of Wessex as its guest of
honor. And the men’s passionate outburst was a discomforting reminder that
she did not truly know what was expected of her. Was she to respond in
kind? Or were the females in the room—especially the young ones—
exempt from such displays of eagerness?
Hazarding a glance at her mother, who was seated beside her, Aisley
waited for some softly worded direction. But her mother’s lips were pursed
closed, and rather than reflecting the tangible eagerness in the room, she
appeared troubled. Indeed, if the barely noticeable lines running across her
forehead were any indication, the scop’s efforts at engendering enthusiasm
for King Alfred’s cause seemed to have fully missed their mark with her.
“Mother?” Aisley could barely hear her own voice above the surrounding
cacophony. “Is something amiss?”
“I must procure more milk thistle and parsley,” her mother said. “There is
barely enough dried milk thistle seed in the crock for one cup of tea.”
Understanding, like a weighted ball, settled in Aisley’s stomach. She
turned her attention to the head table once more. As Ealdorman of Wiltshire
and King Alfred’s host, Aisley’s father was seated there, to the left of the
king.
Though not more than twenty and one years of age, the king’s presence
exuded authority. His hair and beard were brown, his dark eyes bright and
alert. Only two years the king’s junior, Aisley’s older brother, Wulfhere, sat
at their father’s left. His broad shoulders and ruddy cheeks were a picture of
good health and a stark contrast to her father’s sallow skin and pinched
expression.
“Father is in pain,” Aisley said.
Her mother gave a tight nod. “He would not countenance missing the
royal banquet, even if his health suffers because of it.”
The weight in Aisley’s stomach moved to her chest.
“But you can help
him. Your medicinal tea has repeatedly brought him relief from the
discomfort that plagues him.”
“We have been fortunate that he has responded so well to it,” her mother
said. “I pray such providence continues.”
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