From all corners of the castle and beyond the security of the wall, Emma could hear the preparations for battle being made. It was a sound she knew well, one of sharpening axes and hollering men, the loading of ships and the echo of hoofbeats against wooden docks, but rather than watch the organized chaos from the safety of her rooms, she stood solemnly in another’s, attention solely on the man in front of her.
They had known this was coming. There had been reports of unrest along the northern coast for weeks, attacks on villages by men under an unknown banner and with each communication the crown received, the more dire the situation appeared to be.
The final act that moved the King’s hand had been the overtaking and destruction of a scout ship that had been sent to survey the damage. The attack was one that Canute had taken personally and when word made it back that there were no known survivors, plans had been made and the call to arms announced.
