‘And how was your night?’ Bragi asked, revealing his filed teeth. ‘Was she every bit as passionate in bed as she was on the battlefield? By the gods, she fights well.’
‘I warned you yesterday, Bragi. You are my sworn man. You disobeyed a direct order. I’ve killed men for less.’
‘Tetchy, are we?’ Bragi stroked his chin. ‘I reckon last night did not go precisely as you planned.’
Hrolf fastened his gaze on several pennants blowing in the breeze. There was no point in explaining his strategy to Bragi, who had little idea of the subtlety. He wanted a willing participant in his bed, not a woman who had been forced. He wanted the passionate woman who he was sure lurked behind the mask of toughness she wore. It frightened him how much he wanted it. He clenched his fists. He was never going to be weak like his father.
‘None of your business,’ he ground out. ‘I’m not here to discuss my wife’s charms. What’s the problem with the ship? Absolutely urgent or did the messenger get it wrong? I will have him whipped.’
Bragi blinked twice. ‘Merely trying to pass the time, old friend, before Kettil arrives.’
‘Start talking if you wish to keep your thick head attached to your body.’ Hrolf banged his fist against his open palm. ‘What is this all about? What is the emergency? Where is the threat to our fleet? Why did I have to leave my bed with my bride?’
‘Kettil has been summoned,’ Bragi explained rapidly, all bravado vanished. ‘I thought it wise to ensure you arrived first. We need to decide what action is appropriate and measured. And I didn’t want to alert your new wife…just in case she is involved. But you need to see the Sea Bird for yourself. If the damage had not been spotted, she could have sunk quickly in deep water.’
A cold chill went down Hrolf’s back. Bragi suspected sabotage. ‘Continue…’
‘Her brother last night…at the feast…well, he had too much to drink. He has a reputation for doing daft things. I’ve asked around quiet like. He stays out of trouble only because no one wants to provoke Sayrid. She protects him and the little sister. But he will never be of the right calibre to hold somewhere as important as that headland and harbour.’
‘Tell me something new. I hold the headland now by virtue of my marriage and Kettil’s good grace.’ Hrolf schooled his features. That the brother was drunk at the feast was utterly predictable. Presumably he had had a few choice words after being bested. Silently he vowed that the brother would take a long voyage in the very near future.
‘I’d have knocked sense into his smug face, but you gave your orders—no violence on your wedding day.’
‘I’ve no wish to make Sayrid choose between her family and us. Not yet at any rate.’ Hrolf concentrated on the ship, trying to discern how the sabotage had been carried out, instead of pondering the sinking sensation in his gut. His father had forced his mother to choose over a pointless quarrel and had regretted it for the rest of his life. ‘We’ve waited long enough for Kettil and his entourage. What has happened to my ship?’
‘This.’ Bragi gestured towards the hull. ‘A few loosened boards, just above the water line. If I hadn’t spotted them, we could have had trouble once we put out to sea. You know what happened in Ribe. It goes beyond simple wedding-night mischief, Hrolf.’
Minor damage and easily fixed, but potentially lethal if the boards came loose while they were out at sea. Hrolf ran his hands over the sun-warmed boards. He had helped to make this ship, designing the hull, choosing the trees to be felled and finally working with the wood so that it rode over the waves at great speed. It pained him that anyone would behave in this fashion towards this ship.
Hrolf tapped a finger against the hull. It was a cheap trick, but the question was who had done this. He disliked pointing an accusatory finger at Regin unless he had solid proof.
He clapped Bragi on the back. ‘You were right to call me down to the harbour. I forgive you. You can keep your life.’
‘Still, the look on your face was worth it!’ Bragi laughed. ‘I do hope what I interrupted will improve your temper when finally completed.’
‘Bragi!’ Hrolf reached for his sword.
‘You forget I’ve a death wish.’
‘And I’ve no wish to see you gracing Odin’s hall just yet.’
Bragi’s face eased. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Quietly check the other ships. See if anyone saw anything. See if you can learn the whereabouts of Sayrid’s brother while you are at it. Report back as soon as you can. I’ll wait here for Kettil.’
* * *
‘Say! Say! Wait up! You are walking far too fast.’
Sayrid halted. The tattered gown had hampered her progress. First the harbour to find out about the fuss and then back to her old house to retrieve her clothes. Hrolf might wish her to wear gowns, but until she had one which fitted her properly, she intended to be comfortable—she glanced ruefully down at her bare calves—and decent. ‘I’d expected to find you back at the house.’
Auda picked up her skirts and ran. ‘Regin and Blodvin have left.’
Sayrid’s mouth went dry. Trouble at the harbour and then Regin mysteriously departs. It sounded very much like something Regin had done had gone badly wrong and he wanted to hide away, leaving her to clean up the mess. ‘Left when?’
‘Sometime before dawn. I found the rune this morning when I woke.’ Auda held out a scrap of wood. ‘Blodvin wrote it, I think, rather than Regin. He knows how to spell.’
Sayrid took it. Blodvin had scratched the briefest of messages. They’d departed to visit Regin’s mother in Götaland. Her stepmother had left before the ashes on her father’s funeral pyre were cold, leaving her children much as a cuckoo leaves her eggs for other birds to rear. In the last four years, Regin had visited her once and then only because Sayrid had insisted.
‘Why did they go there? I’ve a bad feeling about this. You know what Regin swore the last time I tackled him on the necessity of visiting her.’
Auda’s cheeks flamed. ‘Blodvin wanted to make sure that our mother received the news of the marriages first from a family member. She went on and on to me about it. We argued about it last night after Regin disgraced himself at the feast.’
Sayrid lifted her brow. ‘What did he do? Fight with Hrolf’s men? Tell me the worst.’
Auda shrugged. ‘He was a bit vocal at the feast, but when he sobers up, he will apologize.’
‘He tried to provoke Hrolf into a battle last night.’ Sayrid attempted to move her stiff shoulder and heard the gown rip some more under her arm. ‘Since when do I need anyone to rescue me?’
Auda looked her up and down. ‘Did Hrolf tear your gown? Was he a brute? You know the reputation Lavrans has. Hrolf Eymundsson could be cut from the same cloth. Regin proclaimed he was.’
‘My own stupid fault and the fact that the dress was designed to fit Blodvin’s form.’ Sayrid shrugged and kept her gaze carefully on the ground. ‘There’s a reason I prefer tunic and trousers. Once I know what is going on at the harbour, I’m putting my tunic and trousers back on.’
‘You can’t.’
‘I refuse to shame our family by appearing naked and my legs are far too exposed.’ Sayrid glanced at the gown, which was now several inches shorter. ‘This apron dress borders on the indecent.’
‘Blodvin tossed all your clothes in the fire. She claimed she was being helpful.’ Auda balled her fists. ‘Perhaps you could borrow something from Hrolf? He is a little taller than you.’
Sayrid tried to ease the sudden tension in her neck. Her mind must have been made of porridge this morning. Hrolf appeared to have a larger wardrobe than many women. ‘We are talking about the man who insisted on a dress for the wedding or me going naked. I doubt he would be impressed if I stole his clothes.’
‘When we return to the hall, I’ll get that length of blue cloth I’ve been saving for my wedding and will fashion you a dress which fits and flows to the ground.’ Auda began to tick off items of on her fingers. ‘I will also
teach you how to weave properly. You will get the hang of it in next to no time. If Blodvin can weave, so can you, regardless of what my mother used to say.’
Sayrid blinked hard. Her siblings never ceased to amaze her. They made all her sacrifices worth it. They had always been there for her. She could remember how Auda had held the bowl and Regin had sponged her back after her stepmother had rubbed salt and sand into her wounds. Without them she’d have died and it was a debt she could never repay.
‘You’re the best sister.’
‘I’m your only sister.’ Auda wrinkled her nose. ‘Blodvin doesn’t count.’
‘What else did she do? It has to be more than burning my clothes.’
Auda made a little deprecating gesture and Sayrid knew Blodvin’s tongue was every bit as poisonous as Auda’s mother’s. She wished she’d never rescued the young woman.
Her heart lurched. But then she’d never have known Hrolf’s touch this morning. Sayrid angrily dampened down the feeling.
‘Blodvin will learn mocking anyone in our family is a very bad idea.’
‘Where are you going?’ Auda asked, quite clearly changing the subject away from her problems with Blodvin. ‘I’d expected you to stay in bed far longer.’
Sayrid winced as the heat in her cheeks increased. ‘You’re unmarried, Auda.’
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Auda rolled her eyes upwards. ‘You’d have to be blind, deaf or daft not to know what passes between a man and woman. And I’m none of those things. The way you two kissed at the wedding…made me think…that’s all.’
‘The interrogation about my wedding night will wait until I’ve finished at the harbour. Hrolf was called away because of some trouble.’ Sayrid silently vowed that there would never be a good time to discuss it. Some things remained private.
‘Do you think Regin had anything to do with it?’
Sayrid looked over Auda’s shoulder towards the harbour. She could just see the dragon prows bobbing gently in the oncoming tide. Ships were sacred. They ensured the community could survive through trade. Harming one of them would cause the gods to be angry. ‘He gave me his word last night.’
Auda’s shoulders sagged. ‘That is good. If Regin gives his word, he does keep it.’
‘The trouble is making everyone else believe it.’ Sayrid watched the sunlight play on the waves. ‘Particularly if Regin was unwise in his choice of words before he so hastily departed.’
‘I will do what I can to help.’ Auda reached out a quivering hand. Sayrid took it and noticed that it was as cold as ice. ‘I’d feel happier if he had stayed.’
‘I would as well,’ Sayrid admitted. ‘But tell anyone I said that and I will deny it.’
* * *
‘Do you have any idea of who might have done this?’ Kettil asked when Hrolf showed him the damage to the hull.
‘Unfortunately I was in bed with my bride and the culprit did not leave any clues behind.’ Hrolf fixed the jaarl with a stare. ‘But enough people knew I wanted to depart for my new hall as soon as possible.’
He wanted to tear whoever had endangered their lives apart with his bare hands, but until he had solid proof Hrolf contented himself with flexing his fingers.
‘There was the trouble with Regin Avilson at the feast,’ Bragi said. ‘He was drunk and made threats.’
The jaarl bristled. ‘Regin Avilson might be a fool, but he’d never harm his sister. He owes her too much. Ironfist despised the boy, but he was secretly proud of Sayrid.’
Hrolf frowned. Ironfist was probably not an ironic name. It would explain a great deal if he had beaten his children. Silently he promised to learn more about Sayrid’s past. And then he gave a wry smile. How his uncle would have laughed and repeated his oft-quoted phrase—women were for pleasure only. Caring was the start of the end for his father. It had dulled his edge, according to his uncle.
‘Kettil! Kettil!’ Sayrid strode towards them. She was taking too-big steps and the dress was plastered against her legs, revealing rather more curve of her calf than before. A deep primitive urge to murder any man who looked at her filled Hrolf. He struggled to contain his annoyance at himself. Lovesick was certainly something that he refused to become. He did not possess a jealous bone in his body.
‘If your wife had looked like that when she was a shield maiden, I would have been too busy noticing her curves to listen to her counsel,’ Kettil said in a low voice.
Hrolf dragged his eyes away from the way the wind whipped the skirt about Sayrid’s calves. The memory of their silken length tangled with his this morning was seared deep on his soul. And it bothered him that all the other men were now staring at her.
His plan of teaching Sayrid a lesson had rebounded on him. She’d warned that she didn’t possess any other dresses. After this, he’d be magnanimous and allow her to change into her trousers and tunic—at least they would cover up her assets. There would be no reason to explain the true reason behind his change of heart.
‘Here I find you.’ Sayrid hurried towards where Hrolf stood talking to Kettil.
‘Why are you here, Sayrid?’ Hrolf drew his brows together, every inch the terrifying sea king of legend.
Sayrid set her jaw. Looks never cowed her.
‘You were longer than I thought you would be, husband.’ She waved an airy hand, which caused her cloak to open. At his darker look, she clutched it shut. The gown was far worse now than when she had started out. The barest thread kept it up. She was going to need Auda’s needle soon. With Hrolf in this mood, there was no way she could ask about another set of clothes or confess about Blodvin’s bonfire of her old ones. ‘It is our wedding morning after all.’
The sweetness of her voice made her stomach churn worse than ever, particularly as his brows drew even closer together. She studiously ignored the grins of the other men.
She wondered briefly if she should kiss his cheek, but decided that it would be pushing things too far. She simply stood close enough to him to feel the heat of his body.
‘I know what day it is.’ A muscle twitched in his cheek.
‘Then you can have no objections to me being here.’
She started to pull away, but his arm snaked around her middle and hauled her against his muscular body. The breath left her lungs.
‘It is refreshing how my bride desires my company. And dressed like that.’
She forced a smile and silently damned Blodvin. The gown made her feel as if men were looking at her figure rather than paying attention to her words. ‘Why else would I be here but to please my husband?’
His low voice tickled her ear as his hand slid possessively down her back. ‘You brought your sister, but not your brother. Where is he?’
Sayrid wriggled free and concentrated on the ship’s hull in front of her until her heartbeat went back to normal. ‘My brother has left to visit my stepmother.’
She crossed her arms over her aching breasts and prayed that the stitching would not give way. He was deliberately using her attraction to him.
‘Did you know about the intended trip?’ Hrolf asked Kettil, who shook his head, mystified.
‘A son must honour his mother.’ Sayrid fixed Kettil with her gaze. ‘You spoke of the necessity the other day, Jaarl, when I returned from my voyage. Regin has a possibility of inheriting land, now that her current husband’s only child has died from a fever.’
Kettil had the grace to look uncomfortable. Inwardly Sayrid fumed. He’d conveniently forgotten the conversation. At the time she had privately doubted Regin would go.
Sayrid forced her feet to move to beside the hull. To her surprise, the hull used wooden nails instead of the more usual iron ones. But she quickly spotted the trouble. It was easy to fix. However, if it had not been discovered, it could have posed a problem when they next put to sea. ‘When do you think they struck?’
‘Who?’
‘Lavrans or one of his men. This goes beyond simple wedding-night mischief.’ Sayrid tapped her forefin
ger against the wood. ‘It must be them or another enemy of the Svear. You can’t believe anyone from Svear would do such a thing. It would go against all the laws of hospitality.’
‘I can see why you listened to my wife’s counsel, Kettil, and it wasn’t just because of her good legs.’
Sayrid ignored the tiny fluttering in her stomach. Hrolf thought she had good legs.
‘Lavrans is far from stupid,’ she said, adopting a no-nonsense tone. ‘There will be people who are in secret alliance with him. Men who have benefited for years from not being attacked and who stand to lose everything if this alliance between you and Kettil continues.’
‘Do you have the names of these traitors?’
Slowly she shook her head. ‘If I’d known the names, I’d have told Kettil many months ago. But I’m sure someone must be tipping Lavrans off. There have been far too many times that our ships have been attacked and others haven’t. Someone must be selling information. Either here or in Ribe.’
‘Speculation serves no useful purpose. We need solid proof, Sayrid Avildottar,’ Kettil said with a frown.
She crossed her arms over her breasts and wished she had worn a different cloak, one which did not carry Hrolf’s scent. Right now she had to put what had nearly happened in that room behind her. She had to fight for her brother and not allow him to be condemned. Her attraction to her husband, the man most likely to condemn her brother, was far from welcome and she refused to let it stop her from doing what was right. ‘I merely state the obvious. But one thing is certain: my family have never been traitors.’
Hrolf’s gaze narrowed. ‘No one has accused your brother. We merely want to talk to him, but you say he has departed to visit his mother whom he has ignored for months despite Kettil’s request.’
Kettil’s lined face settled into its more familiar serenity. ‘Auda, my wife had a question about embroidery. If you could attend to her while we wait for the inspection to be completed. I personally think it is wedding-night mischief gone wrong.’
Taming His Viking Woman Page 10