Chapter 6 | Ripped from her home into royal exile
Hild's Tale | A Serialised Historical Fiction Novel
This is Chapter 6 of Hild’s Tale, a historical fiction novel based on (though not tied to) real events that took place in the kingdom of the Northumbrians during the late seventh and early eighth centuries. Abbess Hild, or Saint Hild as she later became known, was a woman who defied social and political expectations to become one of the most powerful people - yes, people, not women - in seventh-century England. Despite this, she was sidelined in the major contemporary histories; this story aims to give back the spotlight she so rightly deserves.
Chapter 5 saw Bede reeling from the revelation that the great abbess Hild, had been an unwilling participant in her baptism and that her father had persisted in his pagan beliefs despite the king’s instruction that he begin to worship Jesus. Bede then read the next section of the autobiographical Life of Hild, in which he learnt about her father’s breaking-point disagreement with the king over the celebrations of midwinter and Christmas. We return to Hild’s account of her childhood, joining her in the middle of that royal disagreement.
📚 You can read all previous chapters at the link below.
Chapter 6
I was sitting by the central hearth of the feasting hall when Edwin burst in, the great oak doors slamming open with the force of his rage. Followed quickly by his personal guard, their armour and weaponry clinking as they moved, he strode the length of the hall to meet father, sitting on his raised chair receiving petitions from the peasants who worked our lands.
The king met his gaze with a steely stare, hands on his hips, defying father’s rule here with his own superior authority.
“What in the name of the gods do you think you’re doing denying my command like that?”
His voice roared across the great space, making my skin prickle despite the warmth from the flickering flames before me. All eyes were on father and the king, but father said nothing, just sat back in his chair, hands folded in his lap, the hint of a smile dancing in the corner of his mouth.
“I gave you a command, Lord Hereric,” he said steadily, more in control now. “And as your king I expect you to obey my commands.”
“My lord king, I did not obey because I did not agree. Surely you also expect honesty from your subjects?”
Father was baiting him, trying to be clever with his words; even I could see that at just ten years of age. My breath caught in my chest as I sat frozen, watching their every move, straining to hear every word.
“Honesty, yes. But disobedience? I cannot tolerate it. I will not tolerate it!”