Saethryd

“When last I saw you, Morcaer of Fenmarch, you were taller and your hair fairer, and you held yourself high with pride.” 

“That may be so, lady, but many men are colored by their deeds, and in the light of day I am yet a bolder man and braver. The sun once shined on me kindly, but no longer, and now all good fortune has forsaken me. All that I loved, I have left behind.” 

They had doubted that she would attend Byrhtnoth’s burial. She did not expect them to. Half of Folkward still remembered the day she had thrown his bride-gift at his feet as if it were yesterday. Yet as she approached the mound, the murmurs of the crowd turned to silence. The men and women of Folkward—crofters and shepherds, miners and weavers—parted to let her pass.