A/N I'm apologising again for the long assed time inbetween updates and for the record: No I am not in a coma (lol), nor have I been! I will try and be better with my updates from now on. Its just life stuff what gets in the way. So I hope you forgive me since this story will soon come to an end :( well at least Edmund's part of this story will. I plan on writing another two parts, one following Edward's reign and the last to follow William's. Although I'll probably be grey and old by the time that occurs! anywhoooo enjoy.

Malmesbury, South-West England

June, 1015

It was warm despite being just after sunrise. The June sun crept onto the horizon like a maid into a lord’s hall, comforting everything she touched with her humid hands.

Edmund awoke in his bed and for a moment felt completely disorientated before finally remembering where he was. Rubbing a hand over his eyes he kicked the thin blanket off his feet and swung his legs out of bed, pulling on a pair of leather trousers.

Wandering over to the nightstand, he poured the jug of water into the bowl and splashed a little onto his face, hoping it would wake him up somewhat. Although it didn’t have the desired effect, Edmund did feel more alert as he dragged his shirt over his head and made his way to the meadhall.

Despite the early hour the hall was already awash with people. They stopped and inclined their heads respectfully as Edmund strolled up the middle and took a seat at the head table.

“My Lord?”

He glanced up at the tentative voice and studied the small blonde haired woman stood before him. She looked almost afraid to be addressing him and tucked incessantly at a stray strand of hair that kept falling from behind her ear.

“What is it lass?” He asked finally.

“Can I get you somewhat to eat, Lord?”

Edmund realised she must have been serving breakfast this morning and the prospect of serving a prince must have been a nerve wracking one for her. Adopting a soft tone he smiled.

“Aye, I’ll just have some porridge lass – if there is any.”

She made a quick curtsey and disappeared into the thronging crowds of the hall, reappearing a moment later with a bowl of steaming oats and a cup of mead. Edmund thanked her and began to pick at his breakfast absently, his mind elsewhere.

He was thinking about his actions. In truth he was worrying about the implications of them. He was, by all accounts, determined to reinstate Aldgyth and remove Eadric’s stain from the seven burghs but he knew that doing so was a dangerous game.

He risked a lot by pitting his will against his father but a part of him felt justified in doing so. It was as if this was his revenge for Athelstan’s untimely end – an end that he still believed Aethelred had been responsible for.

Edmund had tried to come to terms with the death of his brother and put it down to nothing more than fate that he had been slain in Lindsey but he could not. Aethelred had sent his sons do to his dirty work and Athelstan had not come back from that fray.

In Edmund’s mind his father was as responsible for his beloved brother’s death as if he had held the spears that had pierced him. It was a foolish thought but one that he had not been able to shift in the last year. Athelstan should still be here, dining with him, wedded by now, perhaps with a son or daughter at his side. The injustice of it bit deeply at Edmund’s soul and now with this entire situation in the seven burghs Edmund’s distain for his father only grew darker, like a cancer.

In his mind Edmund heard Athelstan’s words over and over. He had told Edmund that one day they would have to go up against their father. Edmund had never wanted to believe that but his own actions had more or less secured that event.

Edmund planned to take land that Aethelred had claimed from under his nose. He had already secured the release of Aldgyth and in doing so he was nothing more than a traitor. Aethelred would not allow this act to go unpunished and Edmund knew full well the implications. If he was caught by his father’s men he would be hanged.

Sighing, Edmund recalled that his brother had told him long ago that Aethelred was a coward and a liar and Edmund now understood fully what he had meant by these words. At the time he had not wanted to hear those poisonous things but now, with every breath in his body, Edmund realised that he hated his father; he despised what he had become. Edmund had at one time looked up to Aethelred, supported his actions, fought for him but not any more. He had washed his hands of that man completely. He was only grateful that his mother was not alive to see how far her husband had fallen. It would have broken her heart to see the rift between father and son.

But Edmund could not see a way for them to repair their relationship. Things had gone too far. That Aethelred would favour a murdering dolt like Eadric was bad enough but assisting him in these crimes against Sigeferth and Morcar was beyond forgiveness. The king was supposed to protect his vassals, even those who dwelt under the old Danelaw. These men had been loyal to Aethelred and he had turned his back on them when they had needed him most. His lack of regard for all men other than Eadric grated on Edmund’s nerves until they were rubbed raw. In his heart he knew he could not walk away from this. Justice had left the court of the English king and given way to corruption and deceit. Edmund almost saw it as his duty to fulfil that role now and as such he would see to it that his father and brother-in-law were punished for these crimes.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Edmund glanced up from his meal as Aldgyth slipped into the chair next to him. She had bathed and now wore a clean dress of dark moss green that was hitched just under her breasts. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders curling effortlessly, cascading down her back like a waterfall. In truth she looked beautiful but Edmund smiled at her like a brother to a younger sister. He could never think of her in any other way.

“Did you sleep well?”

She forced a smile and nodded but Edmund did not press her for details. He was sure she had probably had nightmares last night but there was no sense in bringing them up if she did not care to talk about them. If she did she would do so in her own time.

There was, however, a wealth of sadness in her eyes that tugged painfully at Edmund’s heart. She too had lost someone she loved because of his father. That Aethelred had caused her so much grief irked Edmund deeply.

“As soon as my men are breakfasted we shall ride out for Northampton, Aldgyth.” He informed her, taking a long gulp of mead. “I would reach the halls of your lord before sundown.”

She considered him for a moment, her bright blue eyes studying him carefully.

“I would not ask you to go up against the king for me, Edmund. I have resigned myself to the fact that my lands are lost.”

Edmund sighed, putting his mug down and catching her eye. “My dear Aldgyth, you always did have a good heart but I do not do this only for you. I have my own score to settle with my beloved father.”

Aldgyth frowned at him. “Edmund, do not act rashly. For your own sake I beseech you to consider your actions! The king is not a man to take on lightly.”

He smiled at her, reaching his hand out and brushing his fingers across her cheek. “I know what I am doing, my lady. Please, do not worry about me. They do not call me Ironside for nothing.”

She did – after a long moment – smile, seemingly relaxing at his words. Edmund turned back to his oats and shovelled a spoonful into his mouth. It was good food but he wasn’t really sure he was that hungry. In truth he was only eating because he didn’t know how long it would be before he had a chance to eat again today.

“Your husband’s loyal vassals? Where do they dwell, Aldgyth?”

“Many of them are housed in My Lord’s estate. Some live just beyond in smaller halls. Why do you ask?” Aldgyth questioned with a frown.

“Will they stand firm to you?”

She spoke without a pause.

“Of course. Sigeferth and Morcar were both well loved by their men.” Nodding Edmund’s lips curled into a twisted smile.

“Good. We may need them.”

Aldgyth gave him a puzzled look but did not ask anything further of him. Finishing his meal he rose to his feet and glanced down at her.

“Ready yourself for the journey. We will ride out shortly, my lady.”

With that he turned on his heel and went to find the captain of his war band. They needed to make plans for by this time tomorrow Edmund wanted to be seated in Northampton, preferably holding the head of Eadric Streona in his bloodied hand whilst laughing over his corpse.

That would be a good day.