The First Lost Tale of Mercia: Golde the Mother

By Jayden Woods

Alfric of Mercia is a conniving ealdorman determined to maintain his place among the Anglo-Saxons, even though he has just betrayed them to Viking invaders. Golde is a maid who was wise enough to run away from Alfric many years ago, but now finds him begging for help on her doorstep. Her son, Eadric, is a young boy who has never known the identy of his father and now finds himself drawn to the regal visitor.

"The Lost Tales of Mercia" are ten short tales that can be enjoyed as quick glimpses into the swashbuckling history of ancient England or read alongside the full-length novel, "Eadric the Grasper." Most of the characters are real historical figures inspired by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jayden Woods
• Release date: Jun 20, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452350837

Jayden Woods

Jayden Woods is the author's pen name. Jayden is a graduate of the University of Southern California's Writing for Screen and Television program. She lived and worked in Los Angeles for five years before leaving Hollywood to pursue her passion of writing prose and novels. Her published works include the various Tales of Mercia and the related "Sons of Mercia" trilogy, beginning with "Eadric the Grasper."

Book preview

The First Lost Tale of Mercia:

Golde the Mother

Jayden Woods

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Jayden Woods

Edited by Malcolm Pierce

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Read the Lost Tales in any order you’d like, whether before or after the novel Eadric the Grasper, or completely alone as quick glimpses into an ancient world ...

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And this year the king and all his witan decreed that all the ships which were worth anything should be gathered together at London, in order that they might try if they could anywhere betrap the army from without. But Aelfric the ealdorman, one of those in whom the king had most confidence, directed the army to be warned; and in the night, as they should on the morrow have joined battle, the selfsame Aelfric fled from the forces; and then the army escaped.

—The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, Entry For Year 992

WORCESTERSHIRE

993 A.D.

Even the lazy pigs stirred to life when Alfric and his men came riding over the hills. The hogs rolled and squealed, bobbing up and down on stubby legs as they ran around in mass confusion. The dog barked, lifting wiry haunches from the dirt to point his muzzle and boom his howl of alert. The horizon undulated as the ealdormen’s cavalry sliced black silhouettes against the iron gray clouds. Chills raked down Golde’s skin as she watched, though the breeze brushing her pale hair blew with the warmth of spring.

Hunwald? she called. Hunwald!

She heard no response from the swineherd: only the thunder of Alfric’s men galloping closer. Then, over