Wilheard
Someone was shouting his name. Loud. And near. His blanket was gone. He was cold, so cold. He wondered if they'd made him sleep outside, like Father had once done. Or maybe he'd fallen off his horse and fallen asleep in the snow on the Scar. Had they come looking for him then?
"Eorl Eodwine will hear about it first thing!"
"Eorl Eodwine be damned!" Wilheard said. His voice sounded very weak to his own ears. He wondered what was wrong with him. "Bring me..." he croaked. "Please bring me my brother."
Wulfric could fix this. Wulfric had always fixed everything. He'd know what had happened, too.
"Wulf, why am I so cold?" Wilheard muttered, groping for the blanket that was not there.
|