The banner that normally only fluttered when her father was in residence proudly rippled in the breeze. But there was no way her father or Leofwine could be there. The ransom had not been paid. The jaarl Guthmann would not simply allow them to go on a promise of payment. And they had not encountered them travelling up from behind on Watling Street. ‘Cynehild is up to something.’
‘Could Lady Cynehild be anticipating her husband’s arrival?’ Ecgbert asked. ‘Maybe she wants to welcome them home. Perhaps she has received word they are coming and are not far behind us.’
Ansithe turned around, but there was nothing behind them except for a dirt track. Her heart sank. She missed Moir more than she had thought she could ever could miss anyone.
She stared up at the banner, unable to rid herself of the uneasy feeling that she’d missed something totally obvious.
‘I don’t know.’ Ansithe shifted on her horse’s back. ‘She might be trying to warn us.’
‘Warn us about what?’ Ecgbert’s face turned crafty. ‘My lady, if you are concerned about something, we should go and seek shelter with Lord Cedric.’
‘You can be such an old woman, Ecgbert. The last person we need right now is Cedric. If we encounter any problem, I can solve it,’ Ansithe retorted and urged her horse forward.
The yard was eerily silent when they went in. Not even Owain or the swineherd were about. Ansithe’s stomach knotted as it did before a battle. Before she could remark on it, her father came out of the hall. His ordeal had sent his hair white and his skin resembled old parchment.
She started forward, but stopped.
At his right strode a massive Northman with wild white-blond hair and a newly healed purple scar running across his face. This must be Guthmann Bloodaxe.
Behind them stood an array of Danish warriors. Ansithe motioned for Elene and Ecgbert to keep behind her.
‘Aren’t you going to welcome us, daughters?’ Her father held out his arms as if he expected her and Elene to run into them. ‘I have finally returned from the wars.’
‘Where is Cynehild?’ Ansithe asked instead. ‘Why isn’t she here to greet us?’
Her father’s eyes slid away from her. ‘Your sister is in the church with Leofwine’s body.’
Behind her, Elene gave a small cry.
‘Leofwine is dead?’ Ansithe gasped. ‘You brought his body back?’
‘Unfortunately, Leofwine disagreed with my orders concerning my new bride,’ Guthmann said. ‘He had to be made an example of.’
‘Cynehild and her son have gone to pray for Leofwine’s soul.’ Her father gave Guthmann a nervous glance. ‘It was an unfortunate misunderstanding.’
‘I trust there will no further misunderstandings,’ Guthmann said. Ansithe disliked the way his eyes roamed over her body as if she were a piece of meat for his enjoyment.
Her father bowed low. ‘I can assure you there won’t be. We all know what is at stake.’
Ansithe’s mouth dropped open, unable to believe her normally proud father’s obsequious behaviour towards the Danish warlord. ‘Father!’
He cringed and mouthed sorry.
‘There can be no doubting which of your daughters is the Valkyrie.’ Guthmann’s laughter rang out. ‘How right you were to agree to my betrothal terms, Ealdorman Wulfgar.’
Ansithe fought against the rising tide of nausea. Bride and terms did not bode well for Elene. Her father could not have sold his youngest daughter to a man such as this one. Her eyes measured the distance to the horses. If they ran... She grabbed Elene’s arm and took a step back towards the horses.
‘Terms? What terms? Father, what is going on here?’ Ansithe said, striving for a normal voice, but unable to completely disguise the faint note of panic.
Her father’s right eye twitched. ‘I have agreed to Guthmann’s request, Ansithe, that you are to be his new wife. He has heard of your exploits and feels you are the correct woman to be his bride.’
Ansithe halted her backward progression. ‘Me? You are going to marry me to this man?’
Her father waved his hand. ‘I suppose I should thank you. Such is his admiration for your exploits, Guthmann released Leofwine and myself without the ransom being paid. He is even prepared to waive your dowry. I could hardly refuse under the circumstances. The ransom demand gone and my middle daughter off my hands—beyond my wildest imaginings.’
‘And yet Leofwine objected and died for it.’
‘It was not his place to object.’ Her father’s voice shook with barely suppressed rage. ‘He died for nothing.’
Ansithe stared at her father, noticing little things that she had overlooked before—his pinched mouth and the way his eyes never settled on hers. Her father had arranged a marriage for her with Guthmann, the loathsome man who had held him prisoner and who had a feud with Moir. He was not worthy of her admiration, love or honour. She’d become who she was despite him, not because of him. ‘If you had heard of my exploits, then you knew I already had the ransom sorted. There was no need to agree to his terms.’
‘The gold will come in useful for other things.’ Her father smiled. ‘The estate can be restored to its former glory.’
‘I see, except that the gold belongs to me and my sisters, not you. We cannot stay here. Now you must let us go.’
‘That is impossible, my lady,’ Guthmann said. He snapped his fingers and several of his men rushed forward, surrounding her and Elene. One grabbed her arms while another stripped her of her eating knife and bow.
Ansithe fought against her captor. ‘Let me go!’
‘You will do what I want or you and your people will suffer.’
Her father tugged at his tunic. ‘It is a changed world, Ansithe. I had to think of the family. We need a powerful ally. I seriously did not expect he would make such an honourable offer. You are a woman to get sons on. I assured him that was the case.’
‘Father!’
‘You are a woman of the world, Ansithe, not some simpering maid. You must know this family’s well-being comes before anything else,’ her father retorted.
‘I refuse.’
His eyes widened. ‘You can’t. I am your father and you will obey me. I have accepted on your behalf.’
‘I just have.’ Ansithe kicked out behind her with her boots and connected with her captor. He shouted, but his hold on her arms relaxed enough for her to twist away. She glared at him.
Her father quickly turned to Guthmann. ‘Forgive my daughter. I fear the travelling has tired her.’
Guthmann gave a smile which sent a frisson of fear coursing down her spine. ‘I like it when women are feisty. I will give her two days to make up her mind in my favour.’
‘I need to see Cynehild in the church and give her my condolences. Until I have done so, I cannot give you an answer. Elene and Ecgbert, will you join me?’
Guthmann snapped his fingers again and the pair were released. Ecgbert scampered towards the church, but Elene stood next to her and put her hand in Ansithe’s. The simple gesture of solidarity brought a lump to Ansithe’s throat.
‘Ansithe, please, there is more than your petty personal happiness at stake,’ her father called. ‘I want to ensure the future of this family. You know what you did to your mother. Don’t you destroy this family again.’
‘After all this time, you still cannot admit the part you played in my mother’s death, can you, Father?’ Ansithe turned on her heel, linked arms with Elene and walked into the church.
* * *
‘My father refused your request to depart and still you go. Why are you doing this, Moir?’ Bjartr demanded, coming into the yard where the horses were kept. Moir had been pleased that his favourite horse remained tethered, rested and well fed.
He concentrated on putting his things in saddlebags. He had retrieved his second-best sword, savings and clothes from storage after his quar
rel with Andvarr.
The sooner he left, the sooner he could save Ansithe. He did not need Bjartr or anyone delaying him. ‘I don’t have time for this, Bjartr. I said everything I had to say to your father.’
‘He will throw you out of the felag. You will never get the land you wanted, the land which is rightfully yours.’
‘It is not worth it if I fail someone I care about.’ Moir closed his eyes. All he could see was Ansithe’s face—pale and still if Guthmann had his way with her.
Moir turned back to his horse, finished tightening the saddle, fastened the bridle, then mounted.
‘Step aside, Bjartr. I’ve no wish to harm you. I’ve left your father’s felag. I owe loyalty to no man now.’
Bjartr grabbed the bridle. ‘Hear me out, Moir Mimirson.’
Moir concentrated on the horse’s ears. The less Bjartr knew about what he had planned, the better. The lad was likely to go running back to his father telling tales. ‘Unless you wish me to knock you down, move.’
Bjartr did not. ‘I refuse. You will hear what I have to say.’
‘You will listen to him.’ The remaining members of the felag dressed for travel with Nerian and his men close behind came into the pen.
Moir dismounted. He might be able to go around Bjartr, but escaping from all of them? Not possible. And he knew every breath he delayed was a breath closer to Guthmann reaching Baelle Heale and certain death for Ansithe. ‘I will listen.’
Bjartr gestured to Nerian, who held up the pouch of gold. ‘This needs to go to its rightful owner. The Mercian King has purchased the Danish outlaws we defeated in the forest. It must go to Lady Ansithe at Baelle Heale. I need a guide and only you will do, Moir.’
‘You want me to guide you back to Baelle Heale?’ Moir nodded. ‘Done. And the rest of you, why are you here?’
Bjartr’s face became a beacon of light. ‘We stand with you, Moir. We will be your shield wall. You will not forbid us to go on this journey.’
‘We are with you to the death, Moir Mimirson, our leader.’ The felag roared and beat their swords against their shields in agreement.
Moir stared at them in astonishment, unable to speak. They wanted to go with him. All of them. They were all prepared to risk the wrath of Andvarr for him. He was not going to fight for Ansithe alone.
* * *
It took several heartbeats for Ansithe’s eyes to adjust to the gloom in the church. Cynehild immediately rose from where she knelt beside the body of her husband and enfolded both Ansithe and Elene in a great hug.
‘I had prayed that you would stay away,’ she said quietly. ‘Palni thought you might understand the reason the flag was flying.’
‘We came to warn you about the outlaws we encountered,’ Ansithe said, ‘but I suspect now that they were Guthmann’s men.’
Ansithe went over and knelt in front of the byre where Leofwine’s body lay. She gripped Cynehild’s hand. ‘You do not know how much I regret Leofwine’s passing. Words cannot express how sorry I am.’
Cynehild tightened her grip on Ansithe’s hand and would not allow her to pull away. ‘Hush. No more of that. Leofwine knew he was dying when they returned. They had beaten him dreadfully and living was a torment he did not wish to endure. He felt it wrong what your father was doing to you. He knew the only reason he had been able to see our baby Wulfgar or me again was because of you and what you did. I was able to hold him and tell him how much I loved him and that means far more than I can say. Do not allow his sacrifice to be in vain, Ansithe.’
Ansithe drew a deep breath. Leofwine had admired her. ‘Then I honour him. I will make sure you are all safe.’
‘I know you will. Even though Palni thinks you are in danger, I feel better that you are here. You will find a way to convince Father that his ideas are all wrong. That man...’ Cynehild’s voice broke, but she regarded her husband’s face and regained control. ‘That Dane will destroy this manor.’
‘Is Palni still here? Or has Guthmann discovered him?’
Cynehild put her fingers to her lips. ‘Father Oswald has hidden him. I can take you to him. Father Oswald said that we are to treat this as sanctuary. He believes Father will not violate it and endanger his immortal soul.’
Ansithe suspected Guthmann would be no respecter of sanctuary if it came to it, but she kept quiet and fingered Moir’s pendant. Moir needed to know what had happened. Knowledge was power. And somehow this whole thing circled back to his feud with Guthmann. Palni had to know how to get word to him.
They went into the sacristy where Father Oswald kept his vestments for Mass. The large Northman lay on a pallet. Cynehild’s maid and Wulfgar were there as well. Palni scrambled to his feet when Ansithe entered the room.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Lady Ansithe,’ he said after Ansithe had enveloped him in a hug, ‘but I had hoped never to see you here. That the banner would do the trick and you’d leave and go to Iceland with your man.’
‘I’m far from infallible. I misunderstood its meaning.’ Ansithe rapidly explained about what had happened. She held out the pendant. ‘Do you think you might escape and take this to Moir?’
‘You want him to come here?’ Palni backed away from her. ‘Do you know what will happen? What Guthmann must have planned for him? If Moir comes and challenges him, Guthmann will find a way to cheat so Moir loses. Moir is one of the best fighters in the entire army.’
‘Would Guthmann himself fight him?’
‘Only if he thought he’d win. Otherwise, he’d nominate one of his warriors to act as his champion,’ Palni said. ‘Please, my lady, I know I owe you my life, but do not ask me to make my best friend give up his. Not if you care for him.’
‘I want you to keep him well away from here. Tell him anything, but keep him away. Like you, I believe Guthmann intends on killing him. He only became interested in me when he learned who I had captured.’ Her heart panged as she said the words, but she knew they were the right ones. She refused to become the reason someone else she loved died. She had lived with that guilt long enough.
‘Begging your pardon, my lady, what are you intending to do?’
Ansithe filled her lungs. She willed her voice not to break. ‘I am not sure yet, but one thing I do know—Moir can’t come here. Guthmann has set a trap and I am the bait. If Moir appears, Guthmann will spring it.’
Palni nodded. ‘Then sending the pendant and telling him to stay away won’t work. In fact, I am not sure anything will work once he suspects you are in danger.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I have never known Moir to give that pendant up. We used to joke about it. He sent you back here to protect you from Guthmann. When he discovers what has passed, he will not rest until he has returned. He will already be coming for you.’ He gestured towards everyone who was crowded into the small room. ‘For all of us. It is something to hang on to—in a fair fight against Guthmann, he will win. Find a way, my lady, to get him that fair fight if you have any feelings for him.’
Ansithe held the pendant in her hand, trying to think. She could almost imagine the stone was warm from Moir’s skin rather than from hers. She wished that he was here, holding her in his arms, believing in her ability to give him what he needed. What was it that Moir said—a good leader always uses the tool he has to hand? What tools did she have? And how best could she use them?
She looked at everyone assembled from Cynehild, Elene, Father Oswald and finally Ecgbert who appeared to be listening to the exchange intently. Her hand tightened about the bead and she knew what she had to do and which tool she had to use.
‘Palni, Moir will be using Watling Street as it is the quickest way to get here once he discovers what has happened. And he is sure to discover the truth once he arrives at the summer gathering and the ransom is paid.’
‘Yes, my lady, but didn’t you listen to a word I said?’
&n
bsp; ‘Give him the pendant.’ Ansithe raised her voice and made certain that Ecgbert was indeed listening. ‘Tell him I don’t want him to come because he is far too injured from our battle with the outlaws. It would not be a fair fight until he’s healed, particularly as he severely damaged his sword arm. First, he heals and then he rescues me. Until then Guthmann holds the advantage.’
Palni took the pendant. ‘For you, my lady, I will do it, but you will cause his death.’
She struggled to breathe. ‘Do as I request. At the very least, it means you can no longer be held as a hostage and might be able to assist Moir in his recovery.’
Palni unhappily nodded. ‘Very well, my lady, but this is going to end badly.’
Elene came over to Ansithe. ‘I thought...’
‘Moir always made light of his injuries,’ Ansithe said quickly and hoped Elene would not question her too closely. ‘He won’t be able to fight for weeks. I know because I saw the full extent of the wound later when we spoke in the tent. If he is to have any hope of survival, he must ensure Guthmann does not have the upper hand.’
Elene gulped. ‘I hadn’t realised. Let’s hope he stays away until he heals fully.’
‘If anyone dares whisper about my friend Palni’s escape,’ Father Oswald proclaimed, ‘his immortal soul will be put in danger.’
Ansithe watched Ecgbert, who pretended to be suddenly interested in the chalice Father Oswald used when he visited the poor. She knew he had heard every word and that he would be unable to resist spreading the gossip to her father. She was counting on it. Every single tool she possessed needed to be used in this fight to preserve Moir’s life.
She lowered her voice and murmured to Elene, ‘Let us hope Moir understands my message and acts accordingly.’
Elene squeezed her hand. ‘I hope he is sensible for all our sakes.’
* * *
‘Someone moves towards us,’ Bjartr said in a low voice to Moir. ‘It won’t be the Lady Valkyrie and her sister. More’s the pity.’
A Deal With Her Rebel Viking (HQR Historical) Page 22