Vengeance Hammer (Viking Vengeance)

by Jianne Carlo

  Holding her breath, she inched the cover closed keeping an eye on the flame and pausing when it fluttered too wildly. She sat for a few moments to accustom her eyes to the deep gloom. Spy on Magnhildur or check on Evie? She debated the choice for a mere inhale. Knowing Evie, the sprite was already in the south tower dogging Magnhildur’s every movement.

  Magnhildur it was.

  Holding the candle in one hand, she carefully made her way down the five stairs and then crawled forward, wrinkling her nose at the fusty smell. It took longer than she remembered to make her way to the herbarium. Though the tunnel was designed to hold a full size warrior on all fours, it somehow seemed smaller than she recalled.

  When she came to the pine-covered opening in the wall. Xára jiggled the slab of wood free of its sliders and listened. Not a sound but that of her breathing. She ducked her head through the hole and frowned. The pine table had been moved from its usual place right against the wall. Moved to leave enough space for a little girl to squiggle free.

  Evie.

  Curse the girl. She had no idea of the evilness of Magnhildur.

  Xára managed to squirm through the narrow space. After rising to her full height, she massaged the small of her back, and surveyed the chamber. Evie had had the sense to bar the herbarium from the entrance most knew of, the one leading to the kitchens. But she had also left the armoire barred.

  The only way into the room now was the crawl tunnel and the passageways leading to the south tower, and the other one leading to the lookout gable and north tower room.

  She had no time to waste. She searched the table and found the box with flints, pocketed two, snatched a lump of charcoal from a brass container and added that to her pocket. Working with shaking hands, she pressed the secret bricks, opened the south tower tunnel, and felt for the torch that always hung on the inside from an iron ring. She lit the torch, rested it in the ring, and heaved the huge slab back into place.

  Xára went as fast as the narrow space and dark shadows allowed. By the time she arrived at the landing right below the tower chamber, she had to stop and catch her breath.

  Beyond this point there was slight chance any below could follow her path to the top if she kept the torch, so Xára set the cone into a ring on the wall. She once again waited for her eyes to get used to the gloom. ’Twas eerily silent so she crept up the remaining steps and squeezed into the tapered section built ‘tween the tower’s outer and inner walls.

  Immediately she smelled the rosewater Ulna used to wash Evie’s hair.

  The sound of her sister’s soft scuffling alerted Xára. She squinted to find two gray-blue eyes gleaming back at her. Evie came closer until their noses nigh bumped. She half-whispered, half-mouthed, “He sleeps. She is gone.”

  Xára motioned for Evie to follow her.

  When they reached the landing Evie blurted, “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

  Xára glared at her sister while retrieving the torch and used the coal to write on the wall, When did she leave?

  “She wasn’t here when I arrived. He vomited into the chamber pot, moaned for a while, and went to sleep. Are we going to find her?”

  Aye, they had to stop Magnhildur before she harmed Jennie. For what else could the wicket witch be about?

  Xára knew Dráddør had placed guards outside Jennie’s room, but would he have ordered Lara to stay at her side?

  How could Magnhildur get around the guards? Had she done so already?

  Xára prayed for Jennie’s safety.

  They couldn’t risk entering the chamber through the secret tunnel if Lara was there. Nay. But, Evie could demand to see her mother. Surely the guards would allow that.

  Her mind churning, Xára wrote on the wall. You — bed. Now.

  Evie crossed her arms. “I won’t go.”

  Jennie’s bed. Guard.

  Her sister’s jaw and hands dropped. “Think you, she intends to hurt Mama.”

  Xára nodded.

  “I vow on mine and mama’s honor not to leave her side.” Evie placed a hand over her heart.

  Holding the torch high, Xára motioned for Evie to follow her.

  When they reached the herbarium, Xára used the sand tray to explain her plan.

  Evie would return to her chamber, wake Ulna, and insist on seeing her mother.

  Meanwhile, Xára would make her way through the secret passageways to the priest’s hole in Jennie’s chamber. With any luck, if Magnhildur was there or on the way there, ’tween the arrival of Evie with Ulna and the guards, she would be forced to leave.

  However, if Magnhildur had managed to find a way into Jennie’s room, Xára would have no choice but to attack. Then all damnation and confusion would occur and secrets would have to be spilled.

  They parted ways in the tunnel, Evie taking the narrow detour to her room, Xára the one to Jennie’s chamber. All the priests’ holes in Lathairn had been constructed in the same manner long before the tunnels to freedom had been carved. Each consisted of a narrow coffin-like wooden box with barred exits. ’Twas enough room for a man to hide for several days and alcoves that allowed for the storage of food and drink. Xára left the exit to the tunnels open and wriggled her way into the priest’s hole.

  She didn’t have to wait long before hearing the door to Jennie’s room open.

  “Good eve, Lara,” Evie spoke in a louder tone than normal. “Do the guards remain in Mama’s chamber until the morn?”

  “Shush Lady Evie,” Lara whispered. “Your mama is sleeping. Ulna, why come you here so late? Surely Lady Evie was not allowed at the high table this eve?”

  Xára had never been so grateful for her ability to hear even the slightest of sounds. Save for when Dráddør had her bemused, then she heard naught but him.

  “Nay. We had a tray from the kitchens and went to sleep, but my wee girl woke with a fright. She wouldna go back to sleep till she saw fer herself her mam hadna worsened.”

  “Your mother is much improved, Lady Evie. I will wake her after the cocks crow to give her some broth. Bring the wee one back then, Ulna.”

  From Ulna’s mild tone, Xára knew Evie had shared their plan with her nurse as instructed.

  “I will.”

  “’Twould seem all are worried about our lady. Why not moments ago, Earl Godfraid’s wife came by wanting to see her, but the new lord’s guards have strict orders only ladies Xára and Evie, him, his brother and wife, and Earl Tighe are allowed to enter. Why Earl Godfraid’s wife seemed put out indeed when they denied her entry.”

  Ulna clucked. “Come, me little warrioress. Ye have seen yer mam. ’Tis time for us to seek our bed.”

  The door clicked shut and the tension seeped from Xára’s shoulders. Dráddør had seen to all as he had vowed.

  Drat. She had to rush now. Quickly, she headed first to Evie’s room to bar the priest’s hole from the inside, and then back to the master’s chamber. It seemed to take forever to set all to right and sneak back under the covers.

  Staring at the embroidered hem of the bed drapes Xára let out a long sigh.

  Where was Dráddør? Did he think she had deceived him into believing Jennie had poisoned Arnfinn until this eve? How could she explain how she had gained the knowledge without telling him of her gift? Xára chewed the insides of her cheeks, remembering how the others at the abbey had reacted once they knew of her gift. They had shunned her, believing she could see all their secrets. But, she could see naught of Dráddør. Would he believe her or shun her?

  Nay.

  She must not dwell on such matters. ’Twas her duty to protect Jennie and Evie, and on that front, all was well. Jennie was improved and protected, and Evie locked in for the rest of the night. She had naught to worry on for Godfraid had passed out and Magnhildur would have no option but to return to the south tower. She frowned and tried to recall Lara’s exact words.

  Nay.

  If Magnhildur had only recently tried to enter Jennie’s room, where had she been in the intervening time?
r />   Chapter Eight

  “Could this not have waited till the morn?” Konáll warmed his hands over the dancing flames in the hearth.

  “Nay. My nape bristles and my hammer warms.” Dráddør, fingers linked behind his back, paced a tight circle in the newly scrubbed chamber where he’d first met Xára and Lady Jennie.

  “For this you disturb my sleep? You have no need of me and Nyssa is wont to go wandering in search of me if she awakes alone.” Konáll kicked an errant coal glowing on the floor back into the fireplace.

  “Nay. ’Tis not the sole reason. Xára writes Magnhildur is the one who poisoned Jennie and Arnfinn. What think you of this news?” Dráddør threw open the wooden shutters at one window and the moon’s rays shone a fat beam onto the empty pallet.

  Gusty winds had long cleared the pungent death stench from the room. The sea’s brine and the clay smell of the newly whitewashed walls carried on the swirling breezes.

  “Are you cert?” Konáll’s pale brows pulled together. “Not long ago, you were convinced Lady Jennie did the deed.”

  “Everyone we questioned said only Lady Jennie and Xára had been at the high table for the meal after which Arnfinn collapsed. Do all lie or does my new bride? And to what end would either do so?” Dráddør halted and crooked a rueful grin when Konáll recognized his dilemma.

  “Ah. I see why it cannot wait. You wonder if ’twas Xára who poisoned her own father and mother. ’Tis a grievous suspicion. How many did you question? And were their recountings similar?” Konáll took one long stride and lounged on the pallet, his head tipped back, one knee tucked over the other.

  Dráddør recalled the rushed questionings after the keep had been taken. “Haakon, the blacksmith, the housekeeper, and the cook. Aye, their tales matched, though the cook was scarce coherent, since he was the prime suspect. But no others were sickened and Jennie herself ladled the wine from the barrel into the jug. She was the only one allowed to pour Arnfinn’s wine.”

  “I understand this not. Why would you suspect your wife?” Konáll propped his head in his linked hands.

  He recounted all Xára had communicated before and after their bedsport. “According to all the witnesses, Xára sat beside her mother. She had easy access to Arnfinn’s jug. ’Tis a simple task to slip a poison into the wine and her actions could be easily concealed. She deceived me deliberately. Xára knows well I believed her mother responsible. And she arranged this eve for an emetic to be slipped into the mead served to Godfraid and Magnhildur.”

  “Etta clouds your thinking. She did mine until I wed Nyssa.”

  Their brother Brökk’s first wife had attempted to kill him on more than one occasion, and once had tried to poison him. Dráddør recalled Etta’s stunning beauty and her entrancing, flirtatious manner. By Loki’s cock, he had been half in lust with her and consumed with guilt about it.

  “Your wife is naught like Etta. Xára is mayhap a tad on the timid side, e’en though once in a while, I catch a hint of a fire burning within.” Konáll shifted onto his forearm.

  Fire? Xára’s meek manner concealed a passionate siren and, in her innocence, she had given over to him completely during their bedsport. The image of Xára’s satiated smile and the surprise and wonder in her eyes blurred Dráddør’s vision for a moment.

  “Methinks, ’tis late. You are frustrated and itching for a fight and you are latching onto air. Xára is not Etta. ‘Sides—Nyssa likes Xára. She is sensitive to others since the babe started swelling her belly. And I watched your wife carefully during the meal. I saw naught of deceit in Xára.”

  Dráddør had to admit Konáll right about his ratcheting exasperated infuriation. He had also grown to both respect and trust Nyssa’s judgment. But he and Konáll had trusted Etta and they had grievously erred.

  “Why did she not tell me earlier of Magnhildur poisoning Jennie? Why now?” The notion that Xára was capable of murder ate away at his insides. He had begun to trust her.

  “Think you on her situation. Xára has lived in an abbey, surrounded by peace and truth. Her father suddenly commands her presence and announces her betrothal to his brother. According to what you’ve learned, she discovers not only that her father has a mistress, but that the mistress is bedding the man to be her husband. Then her father and mother are poisoned. You invade the castle and announce the king has commanded your union. You take her innocence—”

  “Enough. You have made your point.” Guilt still plagued him. He had breached her maidenhood front of an audience. He tunneled both hands through his tangled hair and tore through the knots attained during their swiving. The sourness in his mouth intensified when he recalled his climax. Never had he felt such ecstasy and such a deep and abiding ease with a woman.

  His scalp pulled and he relished the prickling for the pain sharpened his concentration. Since the murder of their father, his instincts had never failed him, save for Etta. Why did he question them now?

  Resuming his pacing, he answered his own query—’twas because although she had confided in him somewhat, she still harbored some deep secret and would not give him her trust.

  Why should she trust him when her own father betrothed her to a man with no honor? Time, she needed time, but they did not have the luxury of a single moment. A murderer, mayhap two, slept under his roof.

  One by one, he analyzed the facts and some parts of the riddle unraveled.

  “What? I know that expression, brother.” Konáll straightened and squinted at him. “What do you suspect?”

  Dráddør halted in mid-stride. “What happened to set all these events in motion? Arnfinn took command of Lathairn o’er ten and nine winters ago. He kills the old earl, forces Lady Jennie into marriage, and begets an heir. Bit by bit, he incorporates the whole peninsula under his rule and the king starts taking notice. By law, Lathairn passes from first-born female to first-born female. Somehow Arnfinn finds out the king intends to usurp his power by my marriage to his daughter.”

  “Ah, I see your reasoning. To retain control, Arnfinn sends for Xára to marry her to his brother, Néill. Were I Arnfinn, the vow saying would have happened the very day Xára arrived. What stops him?” Konáll yawned.

  “Mayhap Magnhildur was jealous? Though I would vow on my honor that witch has ne’er loved any more than herself. Mayhap ’twas Jennie’s doing? She survived ten and nine years of Arnfinn’s control.” A burst of vigor set Dráddør to striding up and down the length of the room.

  “Nyssa cannot fathom why Lady Jennie shows no sign of the poison. My wife is much concerned about the reason Xára was sent to Circe Fearn Abbey. We all know the abbess, Lady Gráinne, is guardian to half-immortal girls. Nyssa wonders if Lady Jennie betrayed Arnfinn afore.”

  Konáll merely voiced the suspicion Dráddør had dared not consider. For if Xára was not Arnfinn’s get, then she was not his first-born daughter, and Néill could contest Dráddør’s claim to the title Earl of Caithness. And King Kenneth would take the side that offered him the most riches.

  “I am loathe to e’en ponder such a complication. There is only one person who knows the all of it, Lady Jennie. In truth, I have suspected somewhat was amiss since I first laid eyes on Xára and Jennie. I was so set on avenging father’s death and claiming my lands at long last that I only saw what I wanted to.”

  “Think you the same did not happen with me when I started off for Rurari? Do not wear the monk’s hair coat, Dráddør. Set aside your mistrust and rely on your gut.”

  Dráddør blew out a long sigh. Konáll had the right of it. “I must know my enemy well. I will question Haakon and the smithy. Mayhap one of the keep’s women served as Magnhildur’s maid. Odin grant me the fortune to find one who knew her well.”

  “Does Magnhildur seem familiar to you? On my oath, ’tis as if I have seen her before, yet I cannot recall the where and when of it.” Konáll stretched and yawned again.

  “Nay. I have ne’er set eyes on the witch. Beauty like hers does not go unnoticed.”

  �
��True, and yet she holds no appeal for me.” Konáll shrugged. “But no woman aside from Nyssa has stirred my cock since our vow saying. Methinks you will soon find yourself in the same situation.”

  Dráddør snorted. Then swallowed at the realization he could not recall even glancing at any of the other females in the keep when he was normally wont to notice any plump bosom. He shook his head. ’Twas not the time to dwell on his cock’s lack of interest in all bosoms; he had foes under his roof.

  “Mayhap Magnhildur was at Kenneth’s court when you and Brökk last visited? Or mayhap at Harald’s? Set your mind to it, brother, for I am cert she is at the center of all this intrigue.”

  “Be assured I will not rest until I remember. ’Twill come to me eventually, it always does. Godfraid gives me considerable unease. I suspect he suffers from the malady I have seen so oft in aging warriors. They see their strength and nimbleness waning and seek to recover their lost vigor by surrounding themselves with youths. ’Twould explain the number of green warriors in Godfraid’s service.”

  Dráddør scrubbed at the stubble on his chin and considered his brother’s words. “’Twould also explain why he wed a woman some ten and five winters younger. Kenneth has a particular weakness for young beauties. Magnhildur would add much to Godfraid’s stature in the eyes of the king and all the nobles who dance and toady to Kenneth’s tune.”

  “If the king commanded Godfraid’s presence, ’twould also be the reason for the hastiness of his marriage. ’Twould signify Kenneth has some end in mind and has need of Godfraid to attain it.”

  “Aye. We all know the king’s favor is a double-edged sword.”

  “Did not Xára say Néill went to gain Godfraid’s alliance?”

  “Aye. She did. I have men scouring the countryside and we have yet to question any who have seen hide or hair of him. Xára has a terror of both Godfraid and Néill and I will not rest until she is safe from both.”