LITMIR.BIZ

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thane, besides being the prettiest girl in the village. She was so beautiful that Jack’s brain seemed to seize up when he looked at her, all his usual wit and charm evaporating like rain on a summer’s day. Jack had hardly ever tried to speak to Winifred, let alone kiss her.

      ‘Good day, Jack.’ She smiled at him as she stood up, and Jack could feel the hot blood turning his face red. ‘Been on the beach, have you?’

      ‘Yes.’ Jack ran a hand through his blond hair and tried desperately to think of something else to say. ‘We needed seaweed for the field, so I thought … the beach …’

       Why? Why did I say that? Where else would I get seaweed? She’s going to think I’m an idiot.

      But Winifred just laughed, and put her hands on her hips, and looked Jack up and down. ‘You’ve grown very tall, Jack.’

      Jack stood up straighter.

      ‘Maybe a bit too tall.’

      Jack slouched again. ‘Well, I am eighteen now. I mean, I probably won’t grow any more.’ He paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, before taking a deep breath. ‘Winifred, I was hoping—’

      ‘Jack! Father Brendan is waiting.’

      Jack could not believe it: his mother was leaning out of the window behind him. If Winifred had not been there, Jack would have sworn. As it was, he had to bite his tongue.

      ‘I have to go.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Jack. I will still be here later. Probably.’

      Jack went into the house and met his mother in the main room.

      ‘Why did you shout at me in front of Winifred? I was going to ask her …’ he hesitated. ‘Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.’ He looked down at his hands for a moment; his palms and long fingers were covered with calluses from sawing and shaping wood. ‘Mother, do you think Winifred would ever agree to marry someone like me?’

      A fierce light came into Hilda’s eyes. ‘You are good enough for any woman, and I will stick a needle into any man who says otherwise. Winifred would be lucky to have you. You’re the cleverest lad in the village.’

      Jack smiled at his mother. He could never be cross with her for long. ‘Well, that’s true. And the most handsome. And the tallest.’

      Hilda laughed and patted Jack on the cheek. ‘Of course.’ Her smile faded. ‘As for Winifred, she is a girl who knows her own value. And you do not really know her at all. I think, Jack dear, you are in love with her face.’

      ‘But it is such a face, Mother.’ Jack sighed. ‘You don’t think the thane will allow her to pledge herself to the son of a carpenter?’

      ‘I think perhaps there would be difficulties, though maybe not for the reasons you suspect.’ She pulled Jack into a hug. ‘Soon, the path you are meant to take will become clearer.’

      Jack groaned. ‘That’s what father keeps saying.’

      ‘And he is right. Now go, have your lessons before that troublesome priest eats me out of hearth and home.’

      There was no time for rabbit hunting even after Jack had finished his lessons: his father had been summoned to repair one of the thane’s barns, so Jack had to chop more wood, ready to be made into planks. He channelled his frustration into each stroke of the axe.

      All this nonsense about things becoming clear – chop – they are deliberately trying to hold me back – chop – to stop me from leaving – chop – Leofric is working on the lord’s estate – chop – Ned is betrothed – chop – even Osric, who has a face full of spots, is getting married – chop – and my parents say I need more skills – chop – they just want to stop me ever being a man –

      ‘Ow!’ The log had flown sideways and dropped on to Jack’s foot. ‘Ow, ow, ow!’ He hopped over to a tree stump and sat down.

      ‘Are you injured, lad?’

      Jack glanced up. A mail-clad man on a horse – a nobleman – was looking down at him. The man was grinning, and Jack narrowed his eyes, but he still stood up: there were more knights, at least ten, waiting further down the lane.

      ‘I am not hurt, my lord. If you are looking for the thane’s house, it is further through the village, where the land rises.’

      ‘No, I am seeking one Edwin, a carpenter. Do you know him?’

      Jack frowned and picked up his axe. What did these men want?

      ‘He is not here at present, but I am his son. Perhaps I can find him, if you will tell me your business with him.’

      The grin fell from the man’s face. He leapt down from the saddle and knelt in front of Jack. The other horsemen, seeing his action, did the same.

      ‘My name is Harold Aethelson, and I lay my sword at your service. When all becomes clear, I hope you will forgive me, my lord.’

      Jack thought: Am I going mad? ‘When all becomes clear?’ He shook his head. ‘Have you been talking to my parents?’

      ‘Jack, dear, did you finish—’ His mother walked out of the house, and saw the knights. ‘Oh. Already?’

      Jack stared at her. Hilda looked as if she were about to cry, but she didn’t seem surprised.

      The knight got up. ‘We are come, Mistress. And we must away again quickly. Tonight we lie at the king’s hunting lodge, but it will take us at least three days to reach Helmswick.’

      Jack put his arm around Hilda’s shoulders. ‘Mother, what’s happening. Why are you going to Helmswick?’

      ‘I’m not going, Jack. You must run to the thane’s house and find your father.’

      ‘But what shall I tell him?’

      ‘Tell him—’ Hilda’s voice broke, and she threw her arms around Jack’s neck. ‘Tell him you are leaving us.’

      Edwin had refused to answer any of Jack’s questions about what was happening; he too seemed saddened but unsurprised by the arrival of the knights. When Jack and Edwin got back to the house they found the window shutters closed against the curious stares of the neighbours. Inside, Hilda was dashing about, finding clothes and other items and placing them in a small wooden chest. At the same time she was making some of Jack’s favourite apple cakes.

      ‘Hilda, leave the packing. I do not think Jack will need any of those clothes anyway, not where he is going,’ Edwin said.

      ‘But where am I going?’ Jack plucked a pair of shoes out of Hilda’s hands. ‘Will you please tell me what is happening?’

      Hilda and Edwin looked at each other. Then Hilda burst into tears.

      ‘Come now, sweetheart, we knew this day would arrive eventually.’ Edwin put an arm round his wife. ‘The truth is, Jack – in my heart, and in your mother’s heart, you are our child. And I swear you always will be. But, by blood – by blood, you are not related to us.’

      Jack shook his head. ‘No. That’s impossible.’ He looked at his mother, but she said nothing; just dabbed at her eyes with a cloth.

      There was a bracelet tied round Jack’s wrist. His mother had woven the strap and his father had carved three wooden beads through which the strap was threaded: one bead for Hilda, one for Edwin, one for Jack. His family, or so he had thought.

      Jack stepped backwards, away from his parents. ‘Then all this is a lie.’

      He ran out through the back door of the house, ignoring his father’s voice, and climbed a tree that stood nearby. From here he could see the sea, taste the salt in the air, hear the gulls wheeling and calling above the cliffs. He could slip past the knights waiting in the road, go across country and be on a boat sailing to Frankia by tomorrow morning …

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