Having vented his spleen on the castle in the aftermath of the escape, the King’s appetite for another siege in the barren climes of winter, never exactly strong, waned completely. The cost was prohibitive for one thing, the discomfort for another, so, with his unrivalled ability to move an army at great speed around the country, he moved them west in pursuit of the Empress. From the battlements in the blue half-light of the morning, the men on watch witnessed the welcome sight of hundreds of human backs and horses’ rumps retreating into the forest and the castle awoke to the cacophony of their celebration. ‘Enough to wake the bloody dead,’ Milburga muttered, peering through the solar window to see what was going on. In a sense, of course, it was. When she turned back to the room, Penda had opened her eyes. Milburga sent for Gwil, who arrived almost immediately, dishevelled and unshaven having not slept all night. As he burst through the door he barely acknowledged the faithful nurse but pushed past her, his eyes searching frantically for the tiny, wraith-like figure in the bed.
