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Liccedfeld, Mercia, 879 AD.
As the youngest sibling of nine, Hild liked to think her patience was stronger than most. She had grown up the brunt of every jest, forced to stomach eating the scraps of dinner her siblings did not want, and largely ignored in the cacophony of voices that filled her childhood home. She spent her earliest years exercising the virtues her Christianity told her to value, patience highest amongst them, and when her devotion to her faith saw her sent to a convent in Cippanhamm aged sixteen, Hild had embraced the opportunity with open arms.
Even befriending the young beauty of the town, Layflaed, who often volunteered to help the sick alongside the abbey's nuns, and thus becoming caught up in the storm that would lead to Hild indoctrinating a babe, Laywyn, into the church as an orphaned ward and potential novice, had not overly tempted Hild's patience to snap. Certainly not in the same way that trawling through Mercia the past half-year with a drunken Uhtred and ever sulking Laywyn had caused the usually calm nun to be at her wit's end.
When Uhtred had rejected the estate Alfred offered him in Fifhadan in favour of heading north to rescue his foster sister, Thyra, from the man who killed Ragnar the Fearless, Hild had understood his reasoning perfectly. She, too, had grown unsettled in Wessex, and what better cause to prolong her return to the church and a life of service then rescuing a poor young woman from slavery at the hands of Kjartan the Cruel?
Besides, life following the invasion of Wessex by Guthrum and his men had led to Laywyn becoming known to the king. The young girl had even come to befriend Alfred's daughter, Æthelflaed, in the months they spent in Æthelingaeg together. And such attention from important people being directed at her ward made Hild nervous.
Under no circumstances could she stomach the royal family asking her questions about Laywyn's heritage. Not after Hild had promised Hefric that she would take what he had told her about his niece to the grave. And not when it could put Laywyn's life at risk. So it was Hild's hope that some time away from Wessex would also serve as a way for Alfred and his kin to forget about Laywyn's existence. For her sake and for the sake of the peace.
Yet all they had done since leaving Wessex in the summer was follow Uhtred around Mercia as he attempted to sample the ale of every tavern they came across, alongside the women that worked there.
It seemed the grief of losing the love of Iseult and the friendship of Leofric had finally caught up to Uhtred once they were free from under Alfred's thumb. And his mission to rescue his sister was temporarily at a standstill while Uhtred drank and whored his feelings away all through the winter, instead.
Laywyn's feelings were a more complicated matter entirely.
Mayhaps it was naivety, but Hild had never imagined that raising a young girl would be so confusing. She had been an easy enough child, after all, quietly obeying her parents and then quietly obeying her superiors at the abbey. Although, Hild's early positive behaviour was born out of the fact that even if she did cause trouble at home, it was unlikely to be noticed.
