“What will happen, Abbot Cuthbert? Egfrid has no sons, no brothers, no nephews, no one to become king after him. Shall we be taken over by Mercia?”
Cuthbert lifts my chin. “There is another to rule. A man you will love as much as you love your brother Egfrid.”
“Another brother? Who?”
“How many islands are in the ocean? As many as stars in the sky? If God creates islands and stars, he creates heirs for Northumbria. Like father, like son. If Ermenburg is your brother’s love, who was your father’s? Think, Elfleda.”
“King Oswy’s first wife had a son, but he died after the Great Synod at Streoneshalh.” I shake my head. “There’s no one.”
“Once there was an Irish princess. A woman called Fin. She knew Oswy while he lived on Iona.”
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