Sword of Kings (The Saxon Stories, #12)

by Bernard Cornwell

Æthelstan is no bastard, so when Edward dies there’ll be civil war. Saxon against Saxon, Christian against Christian, Ælfweard against Æthelstan. And long ago I swore an oath to protect Æthelstan. I sometimes wish I hadn’t.”

Æthelstan’s grandfather, King Alfred, had been a man of ambition, and Æthelstan had inherited his grandfather’s dreams, and those dreams meant uniting the kingdoms of Saxon Britain.

The knowledge of my failure was too harsh, too strong. What had I thought when I sailed from Bebbanburg? That I could pierce the West Saxon kingdom and cut out the rot that lay at its heart?

“King Edward,” I said harshly, “did something stupid. He left Wessex to Ælfweard and Mercia to Æthelstan and both want the other one’s country. How can there be peace without war?”