Kitabı oku: «Marrying Her Viking Enemy», sayfa 4
Had she been secretly harbouring a core of wickedness like her mother all this time? Last night she’d been able to assuage her guilt by convincing herself that her feelings had been a natural result of seeing her first nude male body. But that wasn’t precisely true, she realised now. It was him. The Dane clearly made her feel wicked things.
His next throw was a bit wide, barely clipping the stump on its right side. His third attempt was true and hit where her first blade had touched to the cheers of the small group of warriors watching them. He gave a simple nod of acknowledgement to them.
‘You’re very good for someone who doesn’t know how to throw an axe.’ Honestly, she would have been amazed had he been terrible. The man was probably good at everything he tried.
‘Not as good as you,’ he said, bringing the axe back to her.
‘Nothing a little practice won’t cure.’
Holding it out for her, handle side out, he said, ‘You’ve mastered the axe. You’re progressing at archery. How would you like to try learning the sword? Or am I wrong and you mastered the blade as a child?’
She smiled at his question and shook her head, taking the axe to affix it to her belt. ‘I’ve never held a blade. My father forbade it and a sword was too costly for me to acquire on my own.’
‘Do you want to learn?’ He asked it as if it were a simple thing.
‘From you?’ Why did her heart pounce in anticipation?
He nodded. ‘Unless you’re afraid of disobeying your father.’ There was a challenge in his eyes as he said that. ‘But you never let that stop you before, have you?’
Actually, she had let that stop her. Since her mother left, she’d been doing everything she could to prove to her father that she wasn’t like the woman. That meant that, aside from a few indiscretions such as the axe, she had done everything to find his favour. Father would not want her spending time with this man, yet she was very tempted to accept the offer.
Rolfe’s voice had been pitched too low to be overheard, but she still took a look around to make sure. Lady Gwendolyn casually glanced over at them from where she was still instructing Ellan, curiosity burning in her features. The warriors, assuming correctly that the entertainment was over, were slowly going back to their own sparring. That more than anything decided her. She couldn’t bear their audience as she practised. Slowly shaking her head, she said, ‘I cannot. I’m afraid that my pride couldn’t bear the scrutiny of an audience.’
‘There’s a clearing to the south. It’s not far from the walls of Alvey, but far enough for privacy. I could teach you there in the mornings.’
He spoke so earnestly that she almost forgot to be suspicious. Almost. ‘Why would you teach me?’
He took in a breath, his chest expanding with the effort as he thought over his answer. ‘Because you want to learn and I can see that no one else will teach you.’ She didn’t know what she had expected from him, but it wasn’t that.
She did want to learn. Every day at home felt like a threat with the Scots and the Danes on each side. The more she learned the better chance she had of protecting herself and her younger siblings. Of course, she also had purely selfish reasons. She was good at learning how to fight. She liked the training. ‘What would be the point if I’m to leave in a fortnight?’
‘You’re right. It’s not nearly long enough to master the skill, but it’s enough to give you basic knowledge.’ He paused, but she sensed that he wasn’t finished. ‘Although I understand if you’re too afraid.’
‘I’m not afraid,’ she said before she realised that he’d baited her.
Grinning, he said, ‘Then I’ll see you in the morning.’ He walked away and she was curious enough about him and what the morning would bring that she let him go without arguing. One morning with him wouldn’t change anything.
Chapter Five
‘What are you smiling about?’ Ellan surprised Elswyth by following her outside the great hall later that evening.
They had finished the evening meal, so Elswyth had come out for a bit of fresh air and to clear her head. The warriors were crammed inside to capacity, but despite the crowd, she’d been aware of Rolfe’s gaze on her all evening. ‘Was I smiling?’ Elswyth frowned.
‘Aye. It was quite strange watching you all night because you hardly ever smile. What has you so cheerful?’
‘If I was smiling—’ which she really didn’t think she had been ‘—it’s because we’ll be leaving soon.’ Her thoughts of Rolfe were so new and unexpected that she wanted to keep them to herself for a while. Maybe for ever. Nothing could ever come of them.
Leading the way, she meandered with no particular destination through the various cook fires that flickered in the yard. Several men huddled around each one, talking and not paying the sisters any attention. It seemed that Lady Gwendolyn had mentioned to the newcomers that they were to be left unmolested.
‘Hmm... I thought you were smiling because a certain Dane couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.’ Ellan grinned and, even in the deep shadows of twilight, her eyes sparkled with merriment.
‘He couldn’t, could he?’ The words were out before she could stop herself. Once she said them it was a relief to have someone know. ‘I must admit that these warriors are different than I thought they would be. I suppose I was expecting barbarians and, while some of them fit the description, most of them are...tamer than I anticipated.’ Would her father believe her if she told him that? Even saying the words felt like some sort of betrayal to him.
Elswyth had never met the group of Danes that her mother had run off with. They had camped along the coast, a little bit north-east of Banford. Her mother had come across them on one of their trips inland. That trip had led to several others until one night Elswyth had heard her parents arguing. She’d heard enough to realise that Father had found their mother in a compromising position with one of the Danes and had fought the man. At home that night he’d given her an ultimatum: repent and face punishment or be banished. She had chosen banishment. The next morning she’d left to meet her Dane and they’d never seen her again.
To this day, Elswyth didn’t understand what could prompt someone to leave their family behind. She had struggled with the question for years, but wasn’t any closer to coming to an answer. The only conclusion she’d come to was that she needed to try extra hard to prove her loyalty. If that meant despising the Danes, then that’s what she did. Only now that didn’t seem so simple to do.
A Dane at the nearest cook fire threw back his head and laughed at something his friend, a Saxon warrior, had said. Father would have her believe the Dane and Saxon warriors were constantly at each other’s throats, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Not here.
‘You like him, don’t you?’
Elswyth’s ears burned. ‘Shh.’ She glanced around to make certain that no one had overheard her sister’s dubious claim. ‘I don’t like him, not the way your tone implies.’ Liar, a tiny voice in her head accused. ‘I merely think he is kind and not nearly as ruthless as I had thought.’
Ellan didn’t believe her. She wore a smug smile that made her eyes gleam victoriously. ‘Time will tell.’
Elswyth opened her mouth to argue. She didn’t quite understand her need to argue, she only knew that she needed to emphatically deny any interest in the warrior so that her sister would understand that in no way did she favour the man. She was not like their mother and she would not abandon her family for one of them.
‘Elswyth!’ The voice came from nowhere, but it drew every eye in the area. The men at the nearby fire briefly stopped talking to look around, but went back to their meal when no culprit could be found.
Her heart clamoured, taking a moment to gather itself before trying to beat free of her chest when her gaze landed on a flurry of movement in the shadow of the granary. Someone stood there motioning to her, the hand white in the inky black that surrounded it.
‘Who is that?’ Ellan asked, following her gaze.
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was Galan,’ she whispered. But that couldn’t be. Their older brother was at home on the farm, not here sneaking around among their enemy, especially not alone.
The longer she stared into the shadows, and the more urgently he waved her over, the more convinced she became of his identity. If it was he, it could only mean that there had been trouble at home. Father! Dear God, what if something had happened to him? ‘Stay here. I’ll go see what he wants.’
She made her way around the perimeter of the open area, not going directly towards the granary. No one seemed to notice her as she turned in that direction. Galan—or who she assumed to be her brother—whirled when she approached and retreated farther through the fortress, moving with ease through the night. His cloak was up around his head to shield his identity. He could have been any number of the Saxon men who wandered through the village at this time of night. But he wasn’t and her heart pounded from that knowledge as she followed him. He finally stopped in the shadow of the wall—the gates were swung wide open which is probably how he’d got inside.
A small village made of tents had been set up outside because Alvey wasn’t big enough to hold all the warriors within her walls. A sea of fabric fluttered in the cold winter gusts as far as the trees. This was the first time she’d seen them and the sight nearly stole her breath. More of the warriors had returned from the south than she had anticipated. Despite what she’d said to Ellan and how she felt about Rolfe, the spectacle of them made her shiver with the reminder of how precarious this all was. War could come any day. If her family chose the wrong side... She couldn’t even allow herself to finish the thought.
Stepping carefully into the shadows, she approached her brother. The white of his smile was barely visible in the twilight and she was seized by the need to hug him and shake him all at the same time. She decided on hugging, closing her eyes in thanks for his safety when his arms went around her. It only lasted a brief moment, but it was enough to reassure her that, aside from being thinner than she remembered, he was whole. She released him when he pulled back, but only to grip him by the shoulders and look up into his dirt-streaked face. ‘What are you doing here? Have you come alone?’
‘Aye. I’m by myself.’
Between the Scots, the Danes, unknown Saxons and travellers, it was foolish to travel alone. ‘But why? It’s too dangerous. Any number of catastrophes could have befallen you on the way.’
His smile fell to become a scowl. ‘I can take care of myself, Elswyth. Besides, I didn’t come all this way to have you scold me.’
‘Why are you here? Has something happened to Father?’ In her excitement it was hard to keep her voice low so that any of the Danes coming in and out of the gates wouldn’t hear.
‘Nay, Father is well, or at least I assume he is. I haven’t been home yet, I’ve come straight here.’ He hesitated and her chest tightened. ‘It’s Baldric. He’s been taken by the Scots.’
‘What?’ That was the last thing she had expected him to say. Their younger brother was only fourteen winters and he had no interaction with the Scots, or he hadn’t when she’d been home. Galan had been their father’s accomplice in advocating for joining their ranks. He’d ridden with Father last spring to their secret meetings with the warriors. She had hoped that the winter would bring an end to that, but it seemed her hope had been in vain. ‘How is that possible?’
Galan had the grace to look guilty. The cloak had fallen back a bit and he ran the heel of his hand over his brow and couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. ‘He went with me to our meeting with them.’ Ignoring her gasp of outrage, he continued, ‘While we were there a group of Scots met up with some Danes who were on their way to Alvey, we believe. They destroyed them, Elswyth. Every last one of the Scots were killed.’
She tried not to imagine the carnage that sort of battle involved, but the images flashed behind her eyes anyway. Rolfe had taken a Scot’s spear a few days ago. Could it have been him and his group of warriors? She shuddered at the violence she had known him capable of. ‘You were not involved in the battle?’
He shook his head. ‘Nay, we were at their camp. The group of Scots were on their way to us, but obviously they never made it. A scout found the carnage left behind and came to let us know. The Scots suspect that Father was somehow involved in revealing their location to the Danes.’
‘That’s preposterous! Father would never betray their location.’ Whether or not she agreed with his madness in attempting to drive the Danes from their land, she knew that he was an honourable man. He would never betray anyone he considered a friend or ally.
‘We both know that. They, however, want proof of our loyalty.’
‘How does kidnapping a child prove anything of loyalty?’
‘Baldric is hardly a child. He will be fifteen winters very soon.’
She sniffed in disagreement. The weight of Baldric’s hand in hers was still vivid from all the nights she had lain in bed with him after Mother had gone, telling him stories when he couldn’t sleep or was ill. He wasn’t old enough to be brought into this madness. ‘He is a child and he should never have been there. How could you have taken him with you?’
‘He demanded to come and he’s old enough to make his own decisions now.’
She strongly disagreed with that, but arguing that now wouldn’t get them anywhere. ‘What does Baldric have to do with proving Father’s loyalty?’
‘Because the Dane bastards...’ He paused to spit as if the word was foul on his tongue.
‘Shh.’ A quick look around assured her that no one had overheard him.
‘They stole a small fortune from the Scots they attacked. It was a stash of coin and jewels meant for the mercenaries at our meeting.’
‘Mercenaries!’ This time it was Galan’s turn to shush her. ‘Have things progressed so far already? They’re hiring mercenaries to attack the Danes?’
Galan took her arm and led her farther away from the gates. In a whisper he explained, ‘There are Danes on their western coast. They are preparing to fight those. At the moment there are no set plans for Alvey.’
That was a relief, but it was only a matter of time, she feared. Somehow in all of this, hating the Danes had come second to keeping her family safe.
‘I don’t know the details,’ he continued, ‘but one of the jewels that was taken with the coin was a bloodstone. It belongs to King Causantín’s family and has some ceremonial importance to them. That is what they want us to recover. If we can deliver it to them, then they will consider Father’s loyalty proven and release Baldric. Do you think you can do it?’
She still didn’t understand their idea of loyalty. Wasn’t it possible for Father to despise them and yet return the stone to free Baldric? Sometimes she failed to comprehend the logic of warriors. ‘You want me to find the bloodstone?’
‘Aye. They believe that Rolfe led the band of Danes that took it. He’s here?’
She nodded, because her mouth was suddenly too dry for speech. Last night Rolfe had sat with Lord Vidar and Lady Gwendolyn in the hall, sacks of coin between them. Later, when she’d patched his wound, she had noticed a red stone on his bed set amid some silver. Could that be the one?
‘Good. Then the stone is likely here as well. You must find it, Elswyth. It’s the only way to save Baldric.’
‘But how will I know which one it is?’
He shrugged. ‘All I know is that it is the size of a walnut and is set in gold on a chain.’
‘I may have seen it.’
Galan grabbed her shoulders in his joy. ‘Have you truly?’
‘Aye.’ She nodded. ‘I saw the warrior Rolfe with a red stone. I don’t know if it was set in gold or on a chain. I only had a glimpse.’
‘Do you think you can find it and relieve him of it?’
Shaking her head, she said, ‘I’m not certain. It’s possible.’ It would mean she’d have to make a search of his chamber, because he hadn’t worn it on his person today.
‘But you will try?’
‘Aye, of course I’ll try. We must save Baldric.’
‘Thank God.’ He let out a breath and pulled her close, his shoulders slumped in obvious relief. ‘Can you make a search tonight or tomorrow? I must get back to Baldric soon.’
‘If I hurry, I can make a search of his chamber tonight before he retires.’ As she spoke, the reality of what she was about to do set in, making her heart pound. Dear God, war really was coming and their family could be right in the middle of it! With a hand on her chest, she took a step back from Galan and struggled to take a deep breath. The air raced through her lungs as quickly as her thoughts raced through her mind.
Sensing her panic, Galan touched her cheek. ‘You can do this, Elswyth. I believe in you.’
Stories of the Danes haunted her. They were ruthless and brutal when crossed. There was one story that her father liked to tell of a man who had stolen a coin from a drunken Dane in some unnamed southern village. He’d gone about his evening, thinking that he’d got away with the crime, only to wake up as his hand had been cleaved from his body. They gave no quarter or mercy. What would happen if they found out she’d stolen something as precious as a jewel?
Rubbing her wrist, she held her hands against her belly. Would Rolfe be that brutal and unforgiving? She was having a difficult time reconciling the gentle Rolfe from last night in the bath with the warrior who had cut down an entire troop of Scots. Even this morning, he’d been kind and teasing with her. How could he be a ruthless Norseman as well?
‘But what if he finds it gone before morning? What will happen?’
‘They’ll make a search for it, I’m sure, but no one will be able to connect you to the crime. Keep it hidden. You’ll need to bring it to me as soon as you can.’
She had to do this for Baldric. He needed her right now more than she feared for her future at the hands of the Danes. ‘I’m due to go south in the morning with Rolfe. There’s a clearing there where he’s to teach me swordplay.’ She didn’t have to see Galan clearly to sense the tension in his body that her words had caused.
‘You will be alone with him?’
‘Aye, we’ll be alone. If I’m able to find the stone tonight, I’ll bring it and leave it for you at the base of a tree.’
‘But why would he teach you swordplay?’
‘To be honest, I’m uncertain. He seems to have taken an interest in my axe. I demonstrated my skill with throwing it and he offered to teach me the sword.’ He was quiet for so long that his very silence lent a significance to her words that wasn’t really present.
‘Be vigilant with him,’ he finally said, letting out a disappointed breath. ‘I would tell you not to be alone with him, but we must do this.’
‘Oh, Rolfe wouldn’t hurt me...not yet, anyway.’ She knew that Galan’s fears were unfounded, but that would change if her thievery was ever exposed. ‘Once we have Baldric back you and Father must stop this madness. No more secret meetings.’
In an instant, his ire was back. ‘The Danes need to be run out of here once and for all. We were once the proud people of Bernicia.’
‘You sound like Father.’ His eyes flashed with hatred that was so familiar to her. Her father ate that hatred with his porridge every morning and spent his days with it coursing through his blood.
He drew himself up taller, shoulders back and his voice a harsh whisper. ‘Northumbria has given herself over to the Danes, but we won’t follow suit.’
‘So you’d rather we join the Scots? Give our homes over to them?’
He shook his head. ‘It won’t come to that. They only want things to go back to how it was with Alvey a buffer between the north and the Danes to the south.’
‘You must tell Father to stop this madness. The Danes cannot be defeated so easily.’
He stared at her as if she’d become the lowest of traitors. ‘How can you say that? They must be!’
‘Shh!’ she again warned him to keep his voice low. ‘Do you see the warriors in their tents? The warriors walking around Alvey? There are even more in the great hall. He is wrong to think that the Saxon warriors will rise up and defeat them. I’ve seen with my own eyes how they work together with the Danes. They will join forces with the Danes and together there are too many of them.’ She knew her words bordered on treachery, but she needed him to understand the truth of the situation.
Galan shook his head manically. ‘There are still loyal Saxons in the villages who would take our side.’
‘Our side? We don’t have a side. They would be forced to take the side of the Scots and the Scots have been our enemies in the past just like the Danes.’
‘Not like the Danes,’ he argued. ‘The Danes are worse.’
Taking a deep breath so the argument wouldn’t escalate, she clenched her jaw and spoke through her teeth. ‘Be that as it may, they are still too powerful. Tell Father that he needs to stop this madness at once. We could all die if it comes to war.’
‘Some of us would rather die than make peace with them.’ He glared at her and his body stiffened. She knew that he was about to make a run for the gates, so she put a hand on his arm to stop him.
There was no use in arguing at the moment. Perhaps Father was right, or perhaps they had no choice but to accept the Danes. Whatever the answer, it wouldn’t be decided between her and Galan tonight. ‘This arguing won’t get us anywhere. I’m sorry.’ Only slightly mollified, he shrugged out of her grasp.
Closing her eyes, she forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat. It did nothing to dispel the heaviness of her heart or her disdain for what she was about to do. ‘In the morning try to hide near the clearing so you can see where I leave the jewel. I’ll try to leave the ground disturbed just in case you can’t see me hide it.’ She had no idea how she would accomplish this task she’d set for herself, but she’d figure that out in the morning.
‘You won’t even know I’m there, unless he tries to hurt you. If he does, I’ll kill him.’
His crooked smile softened the harsh words. It was the same smile she always remembered when she thought of him. A wave of affection washed over her and she pulled him into an embrace. He put his arms around her again and squeezed. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispered.
An ache swelled in her throat, making speech impossible for a moment. ‘I’ve missed you, too,’ she said when she could speak. ‘Please be careful. Please take Baldric home safely and don’t venture north again. Please.’
He pulled back and grimaced and she knew that he had no intention of following her order. With a nod of goodbye, he disappeared into the deep shadows cast by the wall. Dread made her steps heavy as she walked back towards the great hall. She had no choice but to steal from Rolfe, a man who had been nothing but kind to her. Baldric’s life was worth more than a blasted bloodstone. For a moment she imagined telling Rolfe why she needed the stone and in her fantasy he was understanding and gave it to her. But it was only a fantasy. If she confessed all to Rolfe, then she’d have to confess what Father and Galan had been up to. Somehow she didn’t think he’d be so understanding about their dallying with treason.
She told herself that it didn’t matter she was stealing from him. He was their enemy. He’d have no qualms about doing what must be done if he found out about Galan’s talks with the Scots. Besides, hadn’t he merely stolen the jewel from the Scots anyway? It wasn’t even really his to keep.
None of those arguments seemed to make a difference to the guilt gnawing at her.
She would have to steal from Rolfe.
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