Read Online A Man of Value by Anna Markland - Free Book Online Page B

here, when his father Malcolm and his half-brother died,” he told her.
    Agneta was startled. “Twelve months? Since Alnwick?”
    Oh God. Has it been that long?
    “Yes. Feast Day of Saint Brice.”
    It suddenly came to her she’d been immersed in the ritual of the divine office and paid no attention to which saint they were honouring. Her head spun.
    My name is Caedmon Brice Woolgar.
    She made a great show of examining the man’s scar. “What’s happening there now? Has there been bloodshed?”
    The man looked at her strangely. “You’re mighty interested in all this.”
    “I have a friend who lives there, a Saxon.”
    “They say the Saxons are leaving in droves.”
    “Leaving?”
    He nodded. “I expect many will come to Northumbria. The people I’m in contact with are already on their way here. You’ll likely be seeing refugees at your Abbey soon.”
    Agneta could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She rose to her feet unsteadily and bade her patient goodbye.
    “His wound seems fine to me. It’s long since healed,” Mayda suggested as they made their way back on foot to the Abbey.
    “Wound? Oh, yes. It’s healed well. You’re right.”
    Agneta looked at the threatening clouds and drew her cloak around her.
    It was on such a day as this.
    As she crossed the very moorland where she’d first seen Caedmon the memory of the sights, sounds and smells of that fateful day assailed her, but the one predominant image was of Caedmon, lying helpless, tied to the pallet, yet exuding strength and power.
    Are you an angel?
    “Do you think he’ll come?”
    Agneta stopped abruptly and stared at her fellow novice. “What?”
    “Your knight. Will he come?”
    Agneta hunched her shoulders against the wind and clutched the cloak. “My knight? I don’t know what—”
    “Agneta, we all know. We all sense why you’re unhappy. None of us can understand why you didn’t leave with him.”
    Agneta found it hard to believe the wail she heard came from her own throat. “I sometimes can’t understand it myself,” she choked.
    Her friend embraced her as she wept. “We must pray for him, Agneta.”
    “I pray for him, but I don’t know what to do if he comes.”
    They stood for long minutes, buffeted by the cold wind, then walked back, arm in arm to the Abbey. Thank goodness her friend said nothing more.
    As if the mercenary’s words were prophetic, there were indeed newcomers seeking sanctuary at the fledgling Abbey when they arrived back. Mayda squeezed Agneta’s hand in reassurance as they entered the Infirmary. “Trust in God, Agneta.”
    There were ten refugees, all cold, hungry and dirty. Caedmon wasn’t among them. The nuns offered food and shelter for the night. The group intended to move on the next day, bound for Sussex.
    “You’ve a long journey ahead of you,” she said to one of the older women, determined not to ask about Caedmon.
    “Do you have any news of a knight named Caedmon Woolgar?”
    Agneta looked daggers at Mayda.
    The woman nodded. “Yes, I know his mother, Lady Ascha. My daughter knows Sir Caedmon. In fact she never stops talking about him. He’s a handsome devil, a hero returned from the dead, so to speak. All the young women have set their cap at him. The Woolgars were still there when we left, but they intend to flee.”
    Mayda smiled at Agneta, but it did nothing to calm the conflicting feelings racing through her. Caedmon probably had a thousand women falling at his feet. Why should she care? “So, he’s not married, this Sir Caedmon?” She wanted to kick herself.
    “No, unless he married someone in the last few days. Many of those fleeing did that, for the sake of propriety. Sweethearts didn’t want to be left behind. It’s been a terrible time. Reminds me of when we fled the Conqueror, all those years ago.”
    Agneta could see the woman had reached the limit of her endurance, and didn’t envy her the long journey to Sussex. “Sleep now. You need your rest.”
    The group