Last Tales of Mercia 5: Osgifu the Sister

By Jayden Woods

Osgifu finds out that her sister, Elwyna, may soon be hanged for murder. She faces a hard decision of whether to leave matters to fate or oppose the Normans. Set in the Dark Ages of Engla-lond, the "Last Tales of Mercia" are ten short stories featuring real historical figures and characters from the "Sons of Mercia" series. Though strongly connected to the series, they can be read independently.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jayden Woods
• Release date: Jun 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476413051

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

Last Tales of Mercia 5:

Osgifu the Sister

Jayden Woods

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Jayden Woods

Edited by Malcolm Pierce

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The ten Last Tales of Mercia are stand-alone stories featuring real historical figures and characters from the Sons of Mercia series. You may read them independently as quick glimpses into an ancient world or as an introduction to the novel, Edric the Wild. For more news and updates on the Sons of Mercia series, visit www.jaydenwoods.com.

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SHREWSBURY, SHROPSHIRE

1053 A.D.

Two warm, sturdy arms seemed to reach from Osgifu’s dreams before closing gently around her. A smile lit her face as her body stirred to wakefulness. She felt the warm rays of sunshine beaming through the window shutters. The musky aroma of her husband, Godric, washed over her as he pulled her close and kissed her neck. The coarse stubble around his lips brushed her tender skin. She laughed and squirmed in his grip. That tickles!

In response, he kissed her again and tightened his hold on her. She struggled playfully, lashing him with her long red hair, then using her predicament as an excuse to turn around and face him.

At first glance, Godric looked almost boyish in the gentle light of the sun rise. His blue eye glittered mischievously. Short golden hairs shone upon his chin, a pleasant contrast to the dark roots of hair from his forehead. His long brown hair paled easily in the sunlight, which explained why it had almost been blond when she first saw him return from the land of Jomsvikings. The memory made her heart pound and her blood warm; she remembered how handsome he had been that day when she saw him in a Lundenburg church, still in his teen years but already a man in every conceivable way. She had been taken with him ever since, despite the fact he had cursed and grumbled in the house of God, and even voiced his intention to murder someone.

Now forty-five, Godric was still as handsome as ever, though many years of war and hardship had certainly taken their toll. Osgifu reached up and ran her hands through his hair, which had always been a blend of browns and yellows; now it also carried streaks of gray. Next her fingers brushed over his shoulder and torso, jagged with scars. Then her touch trailed back up his chest, over the jut of his throat, towards the knot of scars on