Alfred slept later than usual, then opened heavy eyes to find Ethelred standing over him. “Time to get up, my boy,” his brother said boisterously. “We must be at the church in an hour.” Alfred lay perfectly still for a minute. Then, when Ethelred had turned away, he moved his head cautiously on its pillow. There was an ominous ache in his neck and behind his ears that he did not like. He closed his eyes briefly. Please, God, he prayed, not today. There was the noise of men talking and moving around in the hall outside the sleeping-chamber door. Alfred sat up carefully. There was no real pain, as yet. Only an ache, a feeling of tenderness. Perhaps it would be all right, he thought. He had not had a headache in over four months. He rubbed his neck and prayed, once more, that he would not develop one today, Sinulf, Ethelred’s wardrobe thane, came into the room to assist the king to dress. The clothing both West Saxons were wearing for the wedding had been carefully chosen before ever they left Winchester, and as carefully packed for this moment.
