Avelynn by Marissa Campbell

horse. As he tore off down the path to the manor, Milo approached me tentatively.
    â€œIs everything all right, my lady?” he asked, watching clouds of dust billow behind the departing horse.
    My mind was spinning. The equinox was in a few days, my course set. But how could I leave the estate with a viper circling, his fangs straining for my throat? I didn’t know what was worse, missing another sacred day of the Goddess or leaving myself open for the beast’s strike.
    I smiled weakly at Milo. “Seems someone isn’t happy with my current position.”
    â€œHe’ll come around, my lady.”
    â€œAre you not threatened by the prospect of me becoming lord of the manor?”
    He chuckled. “My lady, your people love you. I’ve seen firsthand the good you do, how you help those less fortunate than yourself. Your father is fair and just, but in his stead, there are many here who would be honored to have you as their liege lord. I for one would lay down my life for yours.”
    The sincerity in his voice made my throat tighten. “Thank you.”
    He nodded and turned to leave, but I laid a hand on his arm. “Milo, can I trust the administration of Wedmore to your shoulders? I have a matter to attend to. It will take only a few days.”
    â€œI would be honored, my lady, of course. But what of Lord Sigberht?”
    I followed his gaze. “I’ll find something suitable for him to do.”
    *   *   *
    As reeve, Sigberht’s responsibilities included collecting taxes, exacting justice, and handling disputes throughout Somerset on my father’s behalf. It was a position of influence and envy, and it was clearly time to deflate Sigberht’s bloated head. While I couldn’t overstep my father and cast Sigberht out outright, I could certainly make his quarrel with me a bitter tonic.
    â€œGood afternoon, Sigberht. Please step forward.” I had taken great pains to wear my richest kirtle of soft red linen, its embroidered bands of gold silk edging my sleeves, hem, and neckline, my wolf-pelt cloak, held at my shoulder by a heavy gold brooch inlaid with lapis lazuli and garnets, and my sword, the hilt and cross guard stamped with gold. Yesterday he had seen me in a simple frock, tending the fields like a peasant. Today he would know me for the authority of the manor. I sat in the lord’s chair and looked down on Sigberht as Leofric escorted him into the hall.
    Slightly younger than his brother, Wulfric, Leofric was as solid as a boulder, with the same dark hair and watchful eyes, but Leofric was more boisterous, with a charismatic and endearing nature. Today, however, he affected a severe countenance.
    Sigberht scowled, but remained silent.
    â€œThe boundary lines need measuring. A necessary duty to quell any future land disputes. This task falls under your jurisdiction, does it not?”
    Sigberht grumbled. Leofric nudged him politely with his shoulder. “Aye,” he answered.
    â€œGood.” I nodded to Leofric, who stepped to the door and let in a small, wiry old man. His face was weathered and wrinkled, like an apple left out in the sun, but his eyes sparkled with intelligence. “You recall Eata, my father’s butler.”
    Eata stepped forward. “I’ve brought the rope, m’lady, and the tablet.”
    â€œThank you, Eata.” I turned and smiled at Sigberht. “Before he became butler, Eata used to travel with Wiglaf, your predecessor as reeve. He knows each district better than anyone on the manor. He will accompany you and record each freeman’s holdings on the tablet. You will of course be thorough and walk each and every boundary line, measuring it with the rope.”
    â€œThat will take weeks,” Sigberht hissed.
    â€œYes, there is an awful lot of boggy ground to cover.”
    â€œYour father—”
    â€œAh yes, my father. Since he also charged you with collecting the taxes,