The Prisoner -- The Last Kingdom

Chapter 6

Their journey south was mercifully smooth. They kept off the main roads and took detours when necessary, careful to avoid other travellers as much as possible. Neither of them could afford a confrontation.

They rode peacefully, stopping often to rest their horses or explore the countryside. To Aethelflaed's surprise, Erik was in no hurry to get her to Coccham, or get back to his own camp. She was relieved; after all, she might never be so alone with him again. Against her better judgment, she was falling more in love with him every moment. He was smart enough to keep up with her in conversation, and she never felt the need to dim herself so he could shine a little brighter. He was gentle and good-humoured, and she felt herself relax around him, releasing the tension she carried with her from months of anticipating Aethelred's temper. Erik was a good man. Aethelflaed prayed to her god that she could keep him, but she knew her god didn't care.

They had stopped to eat on the shores of a small lake. It was a hot summer day and Aethelflaed couldn't resist the cool, clear water. As she stood and began to undress, she felt self-conscious; Erik had seen her body in the dim light of the tent or by moonlight, but never by daylight. But when she glanced his way, he was lying in the grass with his eyes closed.

She waded deep into the water, sighing in relief at the sweet feeling of floating. Her back was sore from the weight of her growing belly and from long hours of riding. She lay back in the water and gazed up at the sky. The sky was thick with clouds but the day was still hot and the cold water was soothing.

When Aethelflaed looked back at the shore, she saw Erik shedding his clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Joining you," he replied, wading towards her.

"You are meant to stay ashore. What if someone should come upon us? Unclothed and unarmed?"

Erik dove under the water and re-emerged in front of her. "You're too used to everyone serving you, princess. I'm not your guard. Besides," he grinned at her, "I fight better when I'm naked."

Aethelflaed shook her head in frustration, then leaned back and kicked the water, splashing Erik directly in the face. He cried out in surprise.

"You forget that I'm a warrior too," she laughed, splashing him once more before turning to swim away while he gave chase.

The next evening, they built a small fire. They had avoided fires as much as possible – smoke was sure to draw attention – but it had rained most of the afternoon and their clothes were damp and cold. Erik looked at Aethelflaed across the flames, wrapped tight in her cloak. He remembered that damp night a year before when he had fought to stay awake just for the chance to speak with her.

Aethelflaed shivered as she laid out the bedroll. Erik stoked the fire once more, adding another log, and settled down alongside her. She lay between him and the fire, her back against his chest. She pulled his arm tight around her, making herself as snug as possible, and sighed contentedly.

"Comfortable, are we?"

"I know you're teasing me, but I am," she muttered, "for the first time all day."

"I'm sorry I can't offer you a bed in an alehouse. I imagine you're used to fine lodgings, not damp grass and musty furs."

He had dropped his mocking tone and there was a note of remorse in his voice. Aethelflaed lifted his hand to her lips, gently kissing his knuckles. "Erik," she whispered into the rough heal of his palm, "I have never been so happy. You must believe that."

He sighed in relief and buried his face into her neck. "I don't understand it, but I believe it."

She smiled into the darkness. Even his humility was attractive to her. He did not take her for granted.