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watch the entryway while she turned to the courier. The man did not even glance at her, clearly in a hurry to be off. She stepped to his side and whispered with some urgency, “I am Lord Ælfhelm’s daughter. I would have you carry a message to the king.”
    “Aye, lady,” he said, his eyes still trained on his task. He continued to busy himself with the saddle straps, and she was tempted to snatch his hand and force him to attend to her. There was no need, though. A moment later, apparently satisfied at last with his mount, he finally turned to face her. “What is it then?”
    Now she hesitated. What if she could not trust him? What if he simply strode into her father’s hall and repeated to him everything she said?
    She studied his face. He was young, barely more than a gawky lad, fair-haired and smooth-faced. Now that he was looking at her, his eyes glimmered with interest and, she thought, admiration. Surely he would be sympathetic to the plight of a woman under the thumb of a cruel father. And even if he betrayed her, no punishment that her father could inflict on her would be worse than a Danish marriage.
    “You must tell him,” she said, gazing at him earnestly and willing her eyes to fill with tears, “that my father has betrothed me against my will to a Danish lord, and that I beg the king to help me, for only he can stop the alliance. Tell him too that my brothers are in my father’s confidence, and the king must not trust them.” She took the man’s hand and placed four bright silver pennies there. “Can you do that for me?”
    His eyes widened when he looked at the coins in his hand. She had probably given him too much, but she did not care. If he did as she asked, it was silver well spent.
    “I will give him the message, my lady,” he said, quickly slipping the coins into the purse at his belt, as if he feared she might ask for some of them back.
    “Can you remember all of it?” she asked.
    “I have it here,” he said, tapping a finger to his forehead. “The king will have it in three days’ time; I give you my word.”
    He nodded to her, and she stepped back as he mounted his horse. Keeping to the shadows of the stable, she held her breath as she watched him ride toward the manor gate. If the gate wards should stop and question him, he might give her away, however unwittingly. But they waved him through, and she expelled a little sigh of relief. She pressed another coin into the filthy hand of the stable lad and, satisfied that she had disrupted her father’s wretched scheme, she returned swiftly to her chamber.
    The matter was in the king’s hands now. He would be furious when he learned what her father was planning, of course—would likely impose a fine or confiscate some of his properties just for considering such a move.
    Her brothers would likely suffer the same fate. In truth, she wasn’t certain that her brothers were aware of her father’s plans. But if she had accused them falsely, what did it matter? They had treated her badly for years upon years, and now she would have her revenge.
    She wanted all of them punished, but especially her father. For far too long he had kept her from his counsels, had plotted her future with never a thought for her interests and desires. He had treated her like a fool instead of recognizing that she could be of far more use to him if he would but confide in her. She would make him see that she was not without resources, make him regret that he had so badly misjudged both her wit and her willingness to bend to his will.

Chapter Four
    March 1006
    London
    A procession of heavily laden carts was making its way from the Thames bridge toward the East Ceap. Athelstan nudged his mount past it, grimacing at the noisy clatter of wooden wheels on graveled street. It was just past midday, the sun had burned away the mist that frequently hovered over the river, and London was, as usual, crowded as well as noisy.
    And stinking, he thought, as he was forced to