Chapter 13
Death of Penda‘My lady, the dawn is not far off. Will you not sleep?’
The anxious voice of her maid cut across Queen Eanfleda’s thoughts as she knelt at the altar of the shrine she had built on the site of King Oswin’s murder. Normally monks prayed where she now was, day and night unceasingly, for the souls of Oswin and his murderer, her husband. Outside an icy wind rattled the bare branches of the trees and drove flurries of dead leaves against the door.
The floor was hard and cold and she was stiff in every limb from her long vigil. She suffered herself to be helped to her feet by two of her women. She was shivering in spite of her heavy fur cloak.
‘My lady, you are pale! Come to bed!’
‘Is someone ready to take my place?’ she whispered. ‘There must be no break in prayer.’
