Bound by L.A. Smith

Author:L.A. Smith [L.A. Smith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CarpetPage Press
Published: 2022-02-17T00:00:00+00:00

34

He Has a Choice

February 28, AD 643, Somewhere in Bernicia

Godric trudged down the road, humming. Music gave him some moments of clarity. Moments were all he had. Sooner or later his leash was yanked and he would have to submit, but while he had some free thought, he was going to use it.

He headed southeast, towards Lindisfarne. Because Thomas and his father had stayed for the wolf hunt, he had a head start on them. Time for him to get to the monastery first, check out the lay of the land. Not that he would stay at the monastery. The thought made him slightly ill.

Of course, if he had a choice, he would go in exactly the opposite direction from Thomas’ father. But that was the trouble, wasn’t it? He had no choice.

To distract himself from that unpleasant thought, he turned his mind to trying to puzzle out what his captors wanted of him once he arrived at the monastery.

Bring him to me. The command had been such a part of him for the last few weeks that it had become a raging need in Godric. But he tried to tamp down the panting desire that accompanied the thought so that he could try to guess what his part in this whole thing would be. What he could barely admit to himself, in case Wulfram got a whiff of it, was that if he could figure out how this could be accomplished, he could perhaps tweak it a little. Or a lot. Thwart the plan altogether.

Not for Thomas’ sake. The wilding was of no concern to him, except for the healthy fear all the Fey had for those who were untaught. If Wulfram wanted to take him under his wing, so to speak, that would be better than having a wilding of such power roaming around and causing havoc for all the Fey.

No, Godric’s concern was not for Thomas, but for himself. There was still a part of him that was not shackled to the Undying. A part that was shrinking as time went on, but there nonetheless. That part was filled with a simmering, icy rage at how Wulfram had snared him into his service. That part wanted revenge.

He’d come to the conclusion that his best strategy would be to figure out what he was being led to do and then, at the crucial time, to rebel. He had a hunch that by asserting his will when Wulfram and the Undying might be the most distracted, his shackles would be snapped. The thought was the one flickering hope he nurtured in the shuttered cavern of his soul, where he was still himself.

So as he hummed the Undying to sleep, he tried to work out what he would be called to do at Lindisfarne to separate Thomas from his father.

For it was evident, after last night’s conversation, that Matthew would not be persuaded to trot along to Eoforwic with his son. Nor would he allow Thomas to be taken without him.

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