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afraid.
    As he removed his cloak I took the opportunity to study him. Instead of his armor he now wore a brown tunic, the shoulders leather-padded. Even without his battle guise power vibrated around him like the sparks of a blacksmith’s anvil. Six feet tall; not the height Thurkill was rumored to be, but enough to tower over me.
    Approaching the fire, he met my inquisition with a half-curve of a smile, aware of my scrutiny. His teeth were the strong white of the Saxon.
    I stared down at the rushes.
    “My sympathy is with you.” The words were simple, but as I glanced up I realized they were sincere. His half smile had faded, leaving two deep lines bracketing his mouth.
    Pain swayed me but I remained firm-footed.
    “Your grief runs deep,” he said, as if he’d felt my tremor.
    “My grief will know no bounds if I lose the lands of my father to the Dane who murdered him.” I lifted my chin to halt a tear-fall. “Tell me. Do you know how many men Thurkill the Tall has with him?”
    “They will greatly outnumber yours.”
    His certainty infuriated me. I yanked my braid over my shoulder. Gripped it firm.
    “Men will come from all across the Middle Lands to defend Coventry. They’re already traveling, now I have made a call to arms.”
    “The numbers you can raise won’t be enough.”
    The cnihts . My father’s fierce bodyguard, trained and tested. Skilled with shield, bow, and blade. Gone. Their weapons, too.
    Names, faces, axes. I winced. “Many of our warriors have been lost, some of our best, but—”
    “The Middle Lands no longer possess the army you need,” he interrupted. “You need highly skilled men to beat back the Danes.”
    This man had fought and conquered. A daring campaign, my father had called it. Leofric of Mercia knew of what he spoke.
    “You don’t understand the bravery of my men,” I insisted. No one must suspect I shared such doubts. Sacrilege. “They won’t give up, no matter what the odds.”
    “They may be brave but Thurkill is ruthless. His sights have long been on the Middle Lands. You must know that. Make no mistake, he wants this jewel, and he comes prepared.”
    Tight as a bit between my teeth, I gritted a vow. “He will not take it.”
    Lord Leofric dismissed my undertaking. “Let me speak bluntly. We speak that way in Mercia, in the north. I came to make an offer to your father. I’ll make you the same.”
    “And what’s that?”
    “Mercia’s aid.”
    “The warriors of Mercia to fight alongside the men of the Middle Lands?” My braid loosed. I hadn’t expected this. “I thank you, my lord, for the offer of assistance but there’s no need.”
    “If you believe that, you’re a fool.”
    “How dare you!” My words were fire-smoke. We both knew it.
    The scent of leather came with him as he shifted closer. “Heed my warning. You can’t hold Coventry. Where is Thurkill now? He’s with his Danish warriors, invading your border farms and villages. Women and children scream for pity while we stand here. Men and boys are being struck down as they try to defend their homes. Thurkill will show no mercy. Right now, he’s wielding his Dane-axe, the most vicious of them all.”
    Hadn’t I been imagining such hideous scenes, each bruise, every blow? “You’re trying to frighten me. I won’t be frightened.”
    “You should be.” The earl’s gaze raked like a pitchfork over my skin. “Thurkill has a taste for Saxon women.”
    All at once my shawl seemed flimsy. I shivered. “I won’t be taken by Thurkill the Tall, not while a Coventry man stands. They’re the most courageous you could find.”
    “I don’t doubt the courage of your men. But Thurkill the Tall has defeated many just as brave.”
    Another struggle to contain my tears. “Such as my father.”
    Deep sorrow passed over his face so quickly I thought I’d imagined it. “And my brother.”
    “Your brother was lost to Thurkill?”
    The harsh lines bracketing his mouth deepened to scars. “Mercia was