Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“I bent and kissed her hand, then held onto it. "The best fate," I said, "is for you to get well. Become healthy! You're the best ruler Mercia has ever had, so be well and go on ruling."

"I shall do my best."

Then I shocked the two nuns by bending further and kissing Ethelflaed on the mouth. She did not resist. We had been lovers, I still loved her, and I love her to this day. I sensed a slight sob as we kissed.

"I shall come again," I promised her, "after I've taken Bebbanburg."

"Not Frisia?" she asked mischievously. So the rumor was spreading.

I lowered my voice. "I'm going to Bebbanburg next. Tell no one."

"Dear Lord Uhtred," she said softly, "everyone knows you're going to Bebbanburg. Perhaps I'll visit you there?"

"You must, my lady, you must. You will be treated like the queen you are." I kissed her hand again. "Till we meet in the north, my lady," I said, then reluctantly released her fingers and followed Rorik out of the tent.

I never saw her again.”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Flame Bearer

“[...] This reputation carried down the centuries immediately following, with this twelfth-century poem a testament to how she was perceived a quarter of a millennium after her death:

Heroic Æthelflæd! Great in marital fame,
A man in valour, though a woman in your name:
Your warlike hosts by nature you obeyed,
Conquered over both, though born by sex a maid.”
― Janina Ramírez, Femina: A New History of the Middle Ages, Through the Women Written Out of it