Conquest Bride
West Country, AD 1068
God's blood! Eadita's violet eyes widened in shock. From
her precarious position astride a forked branch of a bare oak
tree, she watched the group of soldiers approaching on horseback, the sound of the hooves deadened by the sticky mud of
the cart track. Sweat sprung to her palms as she gripped the
dry, nubbled bark to twist round to her brother, Thurstan,
lounging indolently on the next branch.
"How can you sit there like that?" she squeaked, his calm
manner unnerving her.
"Have a care, sister," he warned in a low voice, "you'll lose
your seat swinging round like that."
"Thurstan, we must move, they'll see us easily. Thurstan,
please!" The urgency in her voice betrayed her inner panic.
'They're Normans, they will certainly kill us! They're too
small a number to be with Uncle Gronwig's party! There's not
a Saxon among them."
"We're in no more danger than we've ever been in before.
They won't even look up." Thurstan's placid response belied
a much deeper hatred of the men who were now advancing
on them slowly, a hatred that burned and festered in his breast
like a wound. Eadita ... read full excerpt from Conquest Bride ebook
