Aeleva; The Viking Saxon

Chapter 20

You must come to me.

Osric's words echoed in my head. My brothers call kept me up that night. Godwin had allowed me to sleep in the lean to outside his house. In the warm August air, the blankets were perfectly comfortable. But that could not sooth my mind.

I needed to find a way back to England, back to Kent. If the Danes were in the Isle of Thanet, then perhaps I could find a way there.

"Godwin, I need to get to England." I blurted out to Godwin at dinner. It was my second day in Kolding. I had brought us a Cod from the market and Godwin made it into a simple stew. I had been in the lean to for one night. I really did appreciate Godwin's hospitality but I needed to find a way back to England, I would not live my life here. I still had coin I had earned with Ove and I appeared to be a Dane to anyone who didn't look too closely. Perhaps I could board a boat.

"Aeleva you ask a lot, again." He sat opposite me in the small table in his house. The lone candle was not illuminating the room as one would hope. But I was still able to make out the grim look on his face in the flickers it provided.

"I am not asking anything of you Godwin, just advice. You have lived by the port for years now." I carried on eating, ripping the fish and placing it in my mouth.

"Aeleva, you are going to get yourself killed." He spoke quietly. He looked down to try and dismiss the conversation.

I heard the tremble in his voice. The sudden quickening of his breathing. I knew that fear well. He was scared that I might get killed upon someone realising I was a Saxon slave. Fear that the tolerance that the Danes gave him, would run out.

"I cannot stay here. I cannot live as you do. This is not my home," I said. I looked up at him, and saw the familiar darkness in his eyes.

"Aeleva, I do not wish to live here either! I have tried to leave but Harald will not let me go back to England with all I know! I have tried and tried again...

Many years ago." His words trailed off to a whisper. Godwin was old now, in his late 50s. You could see the exhaustion and frustration in every line on his face. He had led a hard life to be where he is. I do not look over that fact. The fact that he was alive after so many years is quite impressive. He had accepted where he is, believed he had been sentenced to live here, for the rest of his days.

I could not live like that. I could not live in a house barely big enough to lie in. I could not like as a shadow in a town full of heathens. I had to leave. I was young and the people here did not know my face. I could use that.

The rest of the dinner was eaten in silence. I did not raise the subject again.

After dinner it had become dark and the town had settled down for the night. I made excuses to walk around the town, half because I wanted to escape the subtle tension in the house. I walked down to the sea and was greeted by the soft sound of the waves lapping onto the shore. The boats swayed and knocked into the pier making a soothing clattering.

Of the seven piers, only three had boats. One appeared to be a small fishing boat and I decided it was not large enough to carry me to England. The other two were very substantial. Men were loading the larger of the two and so I walked closer to investigate.

I tried to remain in the shadows but the moon was full and so it revealed me to the men.

"Heil ok sæl." One sailor greeted me. He wore plain simple clothes but they were well kept. He was young around my age, and appeared to be loading boxes of barley.

"Heill, how are you?" I offered a polite smile. Simply making conversation with the town's folk.

"Tired, Loading trade and food for the isle of Thanet." I steadied myself at his words and offered him a tight smile.