Dark Under the Cover of Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 1) by Jayne Castel Page B

out from him like heat from a roaring fire. The girl had eluded them.
Ceolwulf’s only bargaining tool had gone.
    Morale had
dropped among the men; without Raedwyn they knew Raedwald would not fight fair.
If the girl had reached him already, Raedwald would have sent for
reinforcements. If the king was not greeted by his daughter the following
morning he would suspect foul play and his rage would be blistering. Either
way, Ceolwulf’s tightly woven plan was unraveling rapidly.
    Caelin
would have wagered that Raedwyn had reached her father’s encampment safely, but
he would not share this information with Ceolwulf. When Caelin and the other
trackers had returned empty-handed after two days searching in the woods,
Ceolwulf had railed at their incompetence. How could a cosseted young woman
with no weapons, provisions or survival skills, manage to elude some of the
most skilled huntsmen in Britannia? Ceolwulf had been particularly vicious with
his son who was an expert tracker and yet had still failed him.
    Glancing
across at his father’s profile, as hard as granite in his iron helm, Caelin
remembered the vicious rebuke his father had given him upon his return. He had
not risen to his father’s anger, despite the provocation. He had not wanted the
last words between them to be angry before battle. He had stood silently before
his father while Ceolwulf raged. No one dared try to calm him. Finally,
Ceolwulf’s anger had spent itself, but instead of dissolving, the icy rage had
burned inwards. This morning, Ceolwulf had barked orders at his men and refused
to talk with any of them of the looming battle. He had not spoken a word to
Caelin since losing his temper with him. 
    A pale
morning mist snaked across the damp ground as the sun rose to their right.
Shafts of light peeked over the eastern horizon and suddenly the sky was
streaked with amber, orange and gold against the washed out blue of the coming
day. Caelin watched the sunrise, knowing it was likely to be his last. The knowledge
made this spectacular dawn all the more poignant. Caelin thought of Raedwyn
briefly then. She had indeed bewitched him for he could hardly believe that he
had let her go free. He had nothing in return, besides a parting kiss – but
knowing his father as he did, Caelin was sure Raedwyn would not have survived
Ceolwulf’s vengeance. She was too beautiful, too proud and too vibrantly alive
to die at the whim of a man driven mad by a world he could not control.
    Finally,
Caelin glanced back at Ceolwulf. Caelin knew he would not be able to go to his
death without at least trying to make amends with his father.
    “Father, I
am sorry we lost Raedwyn. I’m sorry I failed you.” Caelin spoke quietly but in
the silence of the early dawn, he knew Ceolwulf had heard him.
    “I have
always followed you willingly,” Caelin continued. “I have never questioned your
choice to seek retribution. I still do not question it. Raedwyn is gone but you
have forced Raedwald’s hand. You can still fight to regain your honor. Your
warriors and I will follow you to whatever end.”
    Caelin was
unused to speaking so frankly before his father. He knew Ceolwulf had always
found him to be an enigma. He had a different character to his father; less
intense and mercurial, more reflective and private. Despite that Ceolwulf had
disappointed him numerous times since his boyhood, he had still done his best
to make his father proud of him. It appeared that he had failed, for Ceolwulf
did not answer him now. He only stared fixedly ahead at the evaporating mist
where a line of riders, a phalanx of shields and spears bristling against the
sky, appeared.
    Raedwald
had come.
    Ceolwulf’s
warriors fanned out either side of their leader and watched the approaching
army. From here, it was difficult to guess their number. Raedwald’s army drew
nearer, halting when the two war parties were about thirty yards apart. 
    Caelin’s
heart started to beat faster then. He could hear it