Blind Allegiance (Viking Romance) (The Blind Series)

by Rand, Violetta

  She appreciated the biblical reference. “You flatter me overmuch.”

  “No,” he said most seriously. “Once, long ago, I too brought an English girl home.” Anundr gazed at something far away. “She was nearly as breathtaking as you. But . . .” He sniffed. “Lauga interfered, and I’m afraid I lost her.”

  Noelle nodded sympathetically. Never could she have imagined stomaching the idea of adultery. But for his sake, she did. An immediate kinship had been established between them. It baffled her how different Lauga and Anundr were. Randvior seemed disturbed by his father’s confession. Perhaps he never realized how much his father loved the girl. Not that it mattered any more, the poor girl was dead. Another victim of his mother’s violence.

  While Randvior and his men discussed defense issues at the high table, Fald Ovesen entered the hall through the back doors. He was alone. What blood vengeance might his old ally harbor after learning his eldest son had died for kidnapping his wife? Although his son had committed a grievous crime, the jarl was prepared to pay a generous weregild to pacify his friend and foster peace.

  Their eyes met as Randvior stood. He did not perceive him as a threat. In fact, the older jarl opened his arms. Confused by this, he asked Noelle to stay seated. He went to his friend with hope in his heart.

  “My brother . . .” Randvior greeted him. Fald gripped his shoulders. “What news has reached your ears?”

  “Everything.” Fald bowed his head, pain evident on his face. “I know my eldest son is dead.”

  Randvior felt his pain. If he could alter the past, he would.

  “Much is changing in the Trondelag. Spies and backstabbers have infiltrated every court—traitorous fools who relinquish Thor’s hammer for a cross.”

  Randvior nodded. “Are such men amongst us?”

  “I cannot say. But two of my own fledglings are guilty,” he admitted. “The gods blessed me with three sons, and two are traitors. And I swear my youngest will never see the light of day until I am convinced the old religion is deeply rooted in his heart. Sveinn deserved death.”

  Randvior couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Never had he witnessed a father disinherit his own son. Aye, times were changing for the worst. Fald stared over Randvior’s shoulder at his wife.

  “Forgive me,” Fald said, walking around Randvior, toward Noelle. “My family owes you a penance of great measure. I will do anything to set things right between our families. Sveinn’s ambition drove him to madness.”

  Noelle accepted his apology.

  It seemed many people were keeping secrets in the Trondelag. Fald’s pained expression confirmed his innocence. Randvior believed he didn’t know what his sons were doing. Fald turned and addressed the crowd.

  “My two eldest sons, Sveinn and Tyr, secretly converted to Christianity. They constructed altars dedicated to the White Christ and blackmailed my slaves. If any refused conversion, a painful death was promised as punishment. These tactics are openly taught by Olaf Haraldsson. He’s polluted the hearts of our children and has the balls to proselytize in public.”

  Randvior’s world was unraveling right before his eyes. He never thought he would live to see the day when a father must choose between his gods or his sons. Instead of feeling betrayed by Odin, Fald embraced the truth. Randvior felt nothing but deeper admiration for him. Lesser men would have found relief in the bottom of an ale horn. But one thing still deeply troubled him. “Where is your son, Tyr?” Randvior asked.

  “Gone.”

  Not dead. He offered his friend a seat at the high table. Peace would remain between them. For now, a common enemy threatened them, the White Christ. Determined to flush out any remaining traitors, he looked to his own father for approval before he proceeded with his mother’s trial. Anundr nodded.

  “Lauga Sigurdsson.”

  Heads turned as Randvior’s mother came closer, looking her part, half mother and half Jezebel. She wore what Randvior considered her finest apparel.

  “I am here,” she said.

  “Aye,” Randvior acknowledged her. He should be cruel, but wasn’t. Instead, he mentally compared her to his beloved wife. Lauga paled in comparison. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “Your captain, Aud Magnusson, has read me your charges.”

  Randvior suffered a moment of disappointment when he saw that his mother remained stoic. Even under the strain of being formally charged with high crimes she managed not to crack.

  “You claim to be in possession of evidence to condemn me. Don’t waste my time with these unnecessary formalities. Speak your mind—there is no proof, I assure you.”

  For the first time, he saw her for the liar she was.

  “No proof?” he scoffed. “Do you see the masses gathered in my hall today? Who amongst them is here to defend you? Let them come forward without fear of reprisal.”

  Much to his surprise, many hands went up.

  No matter. There were fifty men to the one who would swear allegiance to her. And they wanted nothing more than to rip her heart out and feed it to the pack of wild dogs roaming the forest.

  Randvior called the first witness. She came forward. The same woman who advised Noelle not to drink Lauga’s wine in the weaving room. He watched Noelle’s eyes blink nervously. Randvior patted the girl’s hand reassuringly. She was a talented seamstress, well respected among her peers, and had no reason to perjure herself.

  The spaewife who attended Noelle testified next, and by the time she had finished speaking, half the crowd clamored for Lauga’s blood. More damaging testimony followed, although the finer details differed slightly from person to person, fifteen witnesses provided enough evidence to charge Lauga. The woman had a questionable history and a bad reputation for playing both sides of a coin, setting people against one another for her own amusement and benefit.

  Before Randvior could leave to contemplate judgment, additional witnesses came forward and accused Lauga of consorting with Olaf Haraldsson. They swore on Odin’s head that they had personally seen his mother accompanying Tyr and other notable men to political meetings.

  “When did you last see her?” Randvior questioned.

  “Only three nights ago, she passed me on the road. I recognized her horse and the silver saddle she uses when she rides to distinguish herself.”

  For once, her vanity would cost her dearly. A foolish act for sure. A plain saddle and dark clothing would have been wise if she wished to remain anonymous on the road. Perhaps she wanted to get caught, for his mother possessed the wisdom of a seasoned strategist. How long had she held his people in a death grip and divided his household? He dismissed the last witness and turned to his mother.

  “Have you anything to say in your own defense concerning these new charges before I pass judgment?”

  Lauga nodded slowly. “Only this. Your wife worships the White Christ.” She pointed angrily at Noelle.

  Randvior covered his face with both hands. Yes, Noelle worshipped the Christian god, but no blood was ever shed over her faith. “She is not a convert, nor is she guilty of treason,” he retorted.

  “Does this make her any less of a threat? Can you guarantee she will never lead these people astray or try to convert your men?”

  It would be well if his mother shut her mouth. Hatred welled up inside him. “She is an innocent, completely blameless—born into her faith.” He needed a drink to settle his nerves. “Bring me wine!” he commanded.

  His ancestors would roll over in their graves if they heard their kinswoman speaking such falsehoods. My mother is a heretic—a traitorous bitch. Who planted the seeds of deception and bitterness so deeply in her heart? An Englishwoman, you fool. He stared heavenward. I swear by my own life to never forsake the vows I spoke on my wedding day. Father Odin, destroy me if I fail to honor my wife.

  “Your fat
her raised you as carelessly as a wild ass in the woods.” Lauga scowled at Anundr. “See what comes from handling your child so liberally? A disloyal boy.”

  “Enough!” Anundr silenced her immediately. “How dare you stand before us and offer these lies up as truth? For years, you fed me draughts of sleeping potion to keep me from discovering your corruption. My legs are crippled, woman, not my wits. I know your heart better than you. Salvage what dignity you can by admitting your guilt. Offer your prayers to whatever damned god you choose, but leave these children in peace. I gave them my blessings. What father denies his only son’s happiness? Look at them. What mother begrudges her child true love? You black-hearted wench.”

  Randvior stood, but held his tongue. His mother’s eyes opened and closed, opened and closed. How long had it been since his father spoke of any tenderness for his wife? he wondered dismally.

  “Plead guilty and I will consider leniency.”

  Lauga was slow to respond. “Would it matter if I did?”

  Randvior rubbed his chin wearily.

  “You condemned me long ago. After years of loyalty—after delivering countless tenants’ children, healing the broken bodies of your soldiers with my own hands, this is the courtesy I’m shown? Do as you must, blood of my blood. Cut off my hands and feet and bury me alive as you have done countless times to your enemies. Whatever you choose, be quick about it.”

  Hopelessness and despair filled Noelle’s heart. The memory of her own mother picked away at her thoughts and she tried to forget. It didn’t work. I never had the privilege of knowing my mother and I mourn her loss every day. She wished with all her heart she was bold enough to speak out and encourage her spouse to make peace with his mother before he punished her. Forgiveness . . . But the Norse rarely exercised mercy.

  Good sense must prevail.

  Randvior must have sensed her discomfort and leaned closer.

  “Have you anything to add?” he asked.

  Noelle wrung her hands and stared at Lauga. A shred of kindness from the woman would motivate her to intervene. Just as the Lord showed mercy in Nineveh, if Lauga repented, she would shield her from Randvior’s wrath.

  But a face as hard and bloodless as stone stared back at her. The scarlet shade of Lauga’s gown accentuated the delicate color of her face. With her hair pulled high, she appeared years younger. Any man would be easily tempted.

  Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, and even a deadly spider has her charms. Noelle’s face hardened—she refused to be a victim any longer.

  “Why?” she blurted out. Lauga did not answer, only stared back.

  “Answer the lady of Steingard,” he commanded.

  Lauga laughed mockingly. “Steingard? How very charming. Only the filthy English give pet names to sticks and stones.”

  Lines marred Randvior’s face. “I believe my wife asked you a question. But let me rephrase it since you seem so unwilling to answer. Why did you hire assassins to kill me, pay for Brian Sinclair to travel from England to murder my wife, and consort with Christians in a place where Odin’s law is the heart of the people?”

  The question upset the crowd.

  “Kill you?” Lauga faltered. “I did no such thing—they were supposed to kill her.” The affirmation burst from her lips, seemingly involuntarily. She gasped and covered her mouth.

  “Thrice you have attempted murder on my wife.”

  Sickened by her demeanor, Noelle shot up and interrupted her husband.

  “I strove to win your respect from the moment I met you. In obedience to my husband, I made peace with these women and accepted what small role you were willing to assign me. If we had settled our differences, even agreed to exist side-by-side with mutual tolerance, I would have been satisfied. There is always hope where God reigns true.”

  Without warning, Lauga charged the dais with a knife.

  Randvior blocked his mother’s path; she screamed as his massive hand closed around her throat.

  Men below pulled their swords and attempted to shove their way through the crowd. But Aud and his men stopped the attack. Three men collapsed on the floor after the brief conflict ended. Noelle rushed to Anundr’s side; he quickly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her behind his chair.

  “Stay by me.” He pulled a long knife from his belt.

  She wanted to close her eyes and will this nightmare away. But Lauga had tried to kill her—again! Not even her Christian upbringing could overshadow the fury she felt in that moment. Herbs and powders, magic spells, and consorting with witches, all offenses punishable by death in Christian lands. Eighteen men were marched to the front of the room. Lauga was still caught in Randvior’s unforgiving grasp. Her knife lay on the floor. Aud scooped it up and placed it on his weapon belt for safekeeping.

  “Silence!” Randvior commanded.

  All the excitement upset Noelle’s stomach again and a burning pain spread across her chest.

  Anundr narrowed his eyes. “What ails you?”

  Not wishing to alert him to her delicate condition, she scooted away from him and found Unnr, who encouraged her to sit and recline on her chair while she gently blotted sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.

  “Violence can give anyone serious indigestion. And while you’re pregnant, expect it even more. This too will pass.”

  Knowing what would happen next as her husband confronted the men who tried to attack him, Noelle could hardly keep her mind focused on one thing. She watched as Aud whispered something in her husband’s ear.

  Randvior exploded. “Insurrection is punishable by death, take them away.”

  The muscles on his face flexed as he stared at her, as if he were making sure she was listening. “Hang them until they’re dead,” he told Aud. “Leave their bodies in the forest so the beasts can pick their bones clean.”

  Enough violence and death. Enough pain and suffering. Enough misplaced allegiance. She had never seen so much brutality in one place. There was nothing for her husband to prove. She knew he loved her. He chose her over Lauga, killed Brian, and sought to avenge the deaths of his tenants. Randvior was no longer the soulless sinner in her eyes. His fierce loyalty astounded her. She had put all her faith in the right man. But now she wanted peace. Not for herself, but for the safety of her child.

  Undeniably shaken, she knew unfinished business remained between her husband and his mother.

  He spoke to the crowd again. “If there are others amongst us who wish to stand with my mother, do so now!” Randvior prowled. Searching and stopping—looking for signs of faithlessness on the faces of his tenants and guests. No one seemed safe at the moment.

  Lauga stayed silent.

  Aud and his men pushed the offenders toward the main doors. Women cried out and ran to Randvior. Four dropped to their knees in front of him, blocking his path.

  “Favor us today kind master, spare our husbands. They were hypnotized by your mother’s promises of wealth and prestige if they served her well.”

  “I am fresh out of mercy and tolerance. Let this serve as a severe warning.” He flushed with obvious displeasure. “Aud, do as I commanded.”

  Guards removed the hysterical women from the room. Randvior headed for his seat, but checked on his father first. Anundr pointed at Noelle. This is it. . . he’ll find out I’m pregnant before I have a chance to tell him myself. With all the misery, she didn’t want to share this joyous news yet.

  Raising his brows, Randvior asked, “Are you sick, Noelle?” He palmed her forehead. “You look thinner and pale.”

  “She’s with child,” Unnr revealed without hesitation.

  Noelle straightened. Her friend had spoken without batting an eyelash. Everyone within earshot waited breathlessly for the jarl to react. A private matter had just been made public. Noelle fisted her hands in bitter disa
ppointment. She had envisioned a quiet evening curled up on his lap, with her head resting over his heart so she could feel it skip a beat when she told him. She wanted to see and feel his joy.

  He stood dumbly in front of her and thumbed perspiration from the tip of her nose.

  “Thank you for providing me with clarity of purpose.” Without another word or acknowledgement of her condition, he sat.

  He raised his arms and the droning of voices subsided. “I am ready to rule on my mother’s case.”

  Before he spoke again, Randvior stared at the ceiling. Her heart ached for him. No matter what he decided, Randvior knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that his mother was guilty. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to face the woman who gave birth to you in such grim circumstances.

  “Because the Thing does not convene until late spring, I am entitled to act as judge. By my mother’s own pathetic admission, she plotted many times to kill my wife. And now she has deepened her culpability by striking out in front of everyone in this room. She has not denied the allegations linking her to the Christian rebel Olaf Haraldsson. Rarely have I seen a more corrupt person.”

  He acted more the avenging angel than judge. Sitting so close to him, Noelle could feel the heat radiating from his powerful body. Although her child was little more than a flutter inside her womb, she had held out hope that Lauga would be a part of their lives someday, if only for the child’s sake.

  However, it would never be . . .

  Randvior pronounced her sentence in one word. “Banishment.”

  As tragic as a death sentence. She’d fare better facing the hangman. Aud braced Lauga’s wilting frame against his body.

  Randvior’s voice blared as loudly as a war horn. “You will no longer call me son, and I shall never again refer to you as my mother. You are without family or friends, and no longer have roots in these lands—no kinsmen will ever shelter you. Odin will blot the sight of you from his eyes.”