by Susan Amund
“The wee one not sleeping?” Jens’ voice was soft behind him. The old man was standing in the doorway, leaning on a stout length of wood.
“No,” Abjorn answered shortly. “I woke Sarah to run up to the monastery. You should speak with Simon before you do anything.” Abjorn eyed Eric and nodded to himself. “It is good that you have returned. Come, there is hot soup at Ell’s cottage. We can wait there for the Brother.”
“Hn,” Eric’s blood was simmering. He knew he needed to wait to hear everything he could about the English knight who had taken over the keep and hurt Julia.
He had hurt Julia.
Eric’s hands closed into tight fists and he was left behind as Abjorn and Jens made their way to the cottage at the edge of the village. She had given them a home on the island. It was his first home in a very long time; he would not allow someone to stay uninvited. And there would be consequences, preferably payment in blood, for hurting his Lady.
Eric gave a sharp wave and Torvald was at his side in an instant. They spoke quietly for a moment before Torvald left to gather a few other men and weapons. “No more English in this village,” Eric ordered.
“Digging graves will take time. Shall we throw the bodies in the sea? They aren’t worth the wood to burn.”
“Don’t kill them; we may need to question them.”
“No killing?” Torvald was put out. “I suppose the men can hold back - a little.”
“Torvald, they are prisoners, so keep your blades to yourself, for now.”
“They don’t need their hands to talk,” Torvald muttered and slipped between the cottages with the other men. Eric could not knock down the gates at the keep and slaughter any who stood between him and his Julia. He had not become the successful warrior he was by acting on instinct and emotion alone. He knew he needed to make plans before he gutted the man who had touched her. Cleaning out the vermin in the village would have to do - for a time.
Jens had already found a seat at the table in Mary Ellery’s cottage when Eric closed the door. A low fire on the hearth and a few candles on the table cast the room in a warm glow. Eric took a place standing with his back to the wall, between the fire and a sleeping pallet on the floor. He listened to Abjorn’s low voice behind the curtain. A female murmur responded and then the large man came back into the main room, this time with two bundles. He handed one to Jens and dished up a bowl of soup while holding the other.
Bjorn followed Brother Simon and Sarah into the room just as Eric was refusing the food. The monk looked like he had dressed in haste, as did the girl. Sarah was almost unrecognizable with the dark hood of a brother’s robes pulled over her hair. The rough brown material hung loosely on her frame, making it impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman under the clothing. She shook her hair free of the hood and blushed at Bjorn’s sound of surprise.
“I needed to stay in the village to help with the babies and Ulrich doesn’t want any of the girls seen by the English.” Eric growled before he could help himself. There was only one reason for Ulrich to keep the young women of the island out of sight, and it wouldn’t have been necessary if Dunholm and his men were the friends of Aurelius they claimed to be. It was just one more indication that the English needed to be dealt with swiftly.
“Babies?” Bjorn questioned in lilting English.
“Yes,” Abjorn nodded to Jens, then to his own bundle. “Ell did a very good job.” Eric managed a word of praise for the woman, which pleased his friend, but he could not stop his impatience for seeping into his question,
“What do you need to tell me before I go to Lady Julia?”
“Praise God,” Simon sat down heavily and pushed the abandoned bowl of soup toward Bjorn. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be willing to listen before you charged in and slaughtered everyone.”
“I can do both,” Eric said darkly.
“Don’t,” Simon commanded. Bjorn’s spoon clattered into his bowl. Abjorn paused before handing over the infant to Sarah, preparing for a fight. Jens snorted,
“I always knew the Christians were fools.”
“Brother Caemon returned late yesterday. I took his report to Julia. There is more at stake on this island than my sister.” Simon ran one hand through his short hair and leaned his elbows on the polished surface of the table. “Dunholm was never a great friend of Harold, but he was not allied with Tostig or William either. Apparently, after Stamford, Dunholm made excuses to take his men to the coast by way of his holding. The other nobles believed that he was collecting additional arms and some skilled reeves. He did not reach Hastings in time for the battle. Edgar sent a courier to him to bring his men to London, believing that Dunholm would reinforce their position. The courier was held in Dunholm’s dungeon for two weeks. All of the information he gave up was presented to William as a gift alongside Dunholm’s request to join William’s supporters and retain his lands and title.” Abjorn cursed softly and Jens’ speculations on the knight’s heritage were creative enough to make Sarah’s mouth fall open in shock.
“Apparently, William was pleased with whatever secrets Dunholm shared, because he took his oath of fealty and brought him into a council to discuss where forces should be sent to subdue the English quickly. Paul,” Sarah sat up straighter when Simon mentioned the Saxon, “made his way into the council as a servant to one of the scribes to get information. One of William’s advisors suggested that the Duke secure the wealth of the English nobles, rather than focusing on their military holdings. Dunholm offered to bring the richest trading alliance in Briton - without bloodshed.” Simon glanced at Eric, but Vandalsson did not move or speak, so the monk continued,
“He claimed to be betrothed to Julia, but that Aelfreic had been against the match. He asked to take my brother’s body, rather than ransoming it, and use it to gain entrance to the island. William is expecting him to bring his bride to London after Christmas.” Simon ran his hands through his hair again and let out a frustrated sigh. “When I told Julia all of this she informed me of the things she and Aelfreic had been planning through their letters. The things they spoke of...” He glanced at Eric, and then looked down at the table, “She needs to tread carefully with William if she intends to hold the island. Killing one of his vassals would incite the Normans against Aurelius. It may take them a year to put down England and make their way here, but they will come - especially after what Dunholm told him of our wealth. Aelfreic gave her many options, but she feels all that is left to her now is to ally with William.” He took a deep breath, “She is considering marrying Dunholm.”
“No!” Sarah gasped loud enough to wake the baby in her arms. Abjorn quickly took it and began rocking.
“That knave will leash her like a dog and beat the spirit out of her.” Jens spit on the floor, his mouth twisted in anger. Simon glanced at Eric. He had not moved.
“There is more,” the monk continued. “Paul reported this all to Caemon and then returned to William’s camp to get information on Dunholm’s forces. He was found out.” Simon threw Sarah a look of pity and continued, “Caemon barely escaped, he had to be careful on his way back - which is what made his journey so long. We assume Paul is still alive, no doubt being...questioned.”
“Tortured, you mean,” Sarah said hollowly. Simon nodded. They sat quietly at the end of Simon’s report, a feeling of hopelessness replacing the excitement of homecoming that had so recently filled the men. Eric finally broke the silence,
“Ulrich has heard this?”
“Yes,” Simon nodded. “I took his confession after I spoke with Julia and used the opportunity to update him on Caemon’s report and Julia’s plan. She has ordered that no one attack the English, for fear of losing the battle and any safe harbor for MØrket.” He looked straight at Eric, “She agreed to take another day to consider her options, and to see if you returned, but she says she sees no alternative to marrying Dunholm. She believes that he will allow her to place Galen and the Abbot in charge of the trade and the people if she agrees to go
with him to William’s court. She thinks she might even be able to convince him to stay in England, only accepting payment from the island, if she can bear him a son quickly.”
Sidelong glances, and some less subtle, from everyone in the room were directed Eric’s way. He still did not move or speak, but his jaw looked as though it were made of granite. His eyes made Simon shudder as they glittered with an unholy fire. Simon sent a prayer of thanksgiving heavenward that this deadly warrior was on their side.
“I think there might be another way.” Silence greeted the monk’s quiet declaration. Jens broke it,
“Well, spit it out boy. We still have blades to sharpen and throats to slit and I’m not getting any younger.” Abjorn and Bjorn smiled at the old Norseman’s bluntness.
“I need to speak to Eric first, alone.” Vandalsson did not respond, but left the cottage with stiff strides. Simon scrambled to follow him. When they returned, those in the room studied their faces for some hint to their conversation. Eric looked much the same, but Simon seemed to have relaxed. The tense set of his shoulders had disappeared and the easy smile that had been absent since the English arrived returned.
“Torvald has made quick work of the men in the village. Vandalsson and I have a plan for getting rid of the rest - for good.”
Roman Ancestors
An hour later, as Eric stepped out of Raskdød, he recalled Simon’s words.
“Do you care for my sister?” The clouds were growing thicker in the night sky, slowly blocking out the moonlight. Snowflakes were falling faster, piling on the ground wherever the cold breeze did not sweep them away.
“I will kill this Dunholm,” Eric had replied. Simon shook his head and grabbed the larger man’s shoulder roughly.
“Do you care for her?”
He took the torch Bjorn held out to him and ran his eyes over the cave where he stood. The roof was, perhaps, seventy feet overhead at its tallest peak. The mouth of the cave had less than fifty feet of clearance over the sea; although, when the tide was in there would be less. Only a helmsman who was good at his job, and a little crazy, would have steered Raskdød safely inside. Steep, worn steps had been carved in the side of the cave. They ascended from the narrow rock platform Eric had landed on up and through the wall to a destination he could not see. Torvald and two others followed him out of the ship. They secured it and waited. Eric nodded to them and began his climb.
“Yes, I care for her.”
As he concentrated on his feet, watching the slippery stone to find sure footing on the crumbling steps, he wondered if he had told the truth.
“Yes, I care for her.”
“Good,” Simon bowed his head and his voice broke a little. “Good, good. Then my plan will work...I think.”
Eric’s boot hit a patch of wet moss and slid off of the edge. For a moment, he balanced precariously, reaching for the wall of the cave and trying to steady himself without dropping the torch. He knew the men could still see him from below, illuminated as he was, but they were well trained and remembered the plan. They were silent as he found his balance and continued.
“Julia is right, we can’t use force to get them off the island.”
“Hn.”
“I’ll assume that means you don’t agree,” Simon said dryly. “Listen before you pass judgment.”
Simon described a fairly simple plan, and Eric had to admit it had merit. Dunholm had promised William he would secure the island without bloodshed. William wanted the people, - and their considerable talent for turning herbs and ointments into gold, to join him willingly. If the English knight couldn’t get Julia to marry him before Christmas, he would have to return to William empty-handed. In the meantime, they could take the advantage by negotiating directly with the Duke for Paul’s release. They had a Norman secured in the fort; a knight was worth more than an untrained boy, William would surely agree to a trade. Simon was also betting that the new King would be intrigued by a woman who presented herself as his equal.
“Why?”
“Have you ever met Duke William?” Simon asked. He didn’t wait for a response, “I stopped in Normandy two years ago on my way to Rome. He is surprisingly shrewd, but not nearly as much as his wife. Matilda is a force to be reckoned with, and William treats her opinion as equal to that of any of his counselors. The union with Matilda was a love match, did you know that? I think he will want to meet Julia before he invades the island.”
“Your plan is to out-wait Dunholm?”
“Well, it doesn’t sound as good when you say it like that,” Simon frowned. “For this to work, he can’t be in a position to take advantage of Julia. He can’t be forced from the island, but he can’t be given any opportunity to do anything but wait for his time to run out.” Simon grew more serious. “Julia had to lock herself in Aelfric’s rooms because she was left alone and Dunholm was ready to take advantage of that.”
“It won’t happen again,” Eric swore, in a dark voice.
“I know - just as soon as we get you inside the fortress,” Simon smiled.
Eric navigated the first turn on the stairs. The wall of the cave had crumbled in spots; he had to step over chunks of stone littering the stairs. He told Simon that he cared for Julia. Certainly he planned to convince her to marry him, although he didn’t mention that to the monk. She was beautiful; her body was more than tempting. She was learned, more than anyone else he had ever met. She took responsibility for those in her care to the point that she was willing to give herself over to a man who would break her. Eric found himself growling and had to clench his teeth to stop.
He cared for her, he would admit that. The idea of her with another was more than distasteful - it made his blood boil. The thought of anyone forcing themselves on her brought him dangerously close to a Viking rage. If he wasn’t careful he wouldn’t stop at just infiltrating the fort. He would break down doors and slaughter anyone who stood in his way. He had nearly gone berserk once before on the island - when he heard Undr and the others planning to betray him. Undr was dead. His companions - now in Norway - came away with a broken hand, arm, jaw and multiple other injuries between them. Dunholm had laid his hands on Julia and had every intention of claiming the island as his own. Eric had to restrain himself from planning how to torture the man to death.
“If you care for her, consider more than staying here as her guard,” Simon said. Eric was nearly thrown off balance. He planned to be more than a man-at-arms for Julia, but he was surprised that the monk considered the same option.
“Hn.”
“We may be able to convince William that Aurelius will provide him a better profit if Julia is left to run the trade - but he will still want her to marry. He would be a fool not to want one of his own men here, securing his interests. We can make him intrigue. If he meets her, Julia will probably earn his respect - maybe even his favor. But he won’t risk her taking a husband from one of the remaining English nobles, or someone who owes allegiance to another king.” Eric was torn between two lines of thought. The plans to infiltrate the fortress and secure Julia warred with Simon’s insinuations.
“Are you offering your sister to me?”
“You are straightforward, Vandalsson.” Simon let out a short bark of laughter, but quickly sobered. “I am suggesting that you might gain her consideration for another, ah, position on the island.”
“Convince her?” Eric wondered at how the two siblings had mirrored each other’s words. Had she mentioned it to her twin? Or was the monk falling back into his usual teasing?
“You are a man of few words, Vandalsson. But I think Julia has other interests where you are concerned.”
Eric filed away the smirk on the monk’s face to think about later. Before he could concentrate on his plan to court the Lady, apparently with her brother’s approval, he had to save her. The hard set of his jaw nearly ground his teeth together. He had to save her from the foolish knight, and he had to save her from her own sense of responsibility.
He navig
ated the second turn in the steep stairs. Simon couldn’t offer his sister; but she was wrong if she felt she could give herself to another. She had given him a home, and said she would consider more from him. She had much to answer for if she thought he would let her ignore her responsibility to him. This was his home. He had sworn to protect her. Whatever else they might become, she was his Lady. The torch illuminated a narrow wooden door at the end of the passageway. An iron latch, rusted from the moisture rising off the sea, was locked.
“The Romans built it when they were on the island as an escape route for the Imperator and his family if the fort was ever besieged. My father once told me they kept a ship in the cave at the sea where the passage lets out, but I never saw one there. The other end lets out in Aelfreic’s bedchamber. Julia is there, but the door will be locked.
“We played in the passage once as children - Julia broke her arm when one of the steps crumbled. Aelfreic whipped us both when he found out and the door was locked after that. There was always a key at the keep as well, although I don’t know where Aelfreic kept it. The other key was kept at the Monastery under the eye of the Abbott. Only he and our family knew about the passageway. And now you.”
“Will she have used it?”
“Even if she has the key with her, what would be the point? The passageway was dangerous when we were children, it can’t have gotten better with time. And without a boat in the cavern, there is nowhere to go.”
Eric removed a pouch of grease and slathered it on the hinges and inside the lock. Hopefully the key would still work because Julia might not be pleased if he had to break down the door.
White Knight
Julia scowled at the darkness above her and tried to decide what had woken her. It had taken hours for her to fall asleep. Her stomach was knotted with hunger that the water carafe in her study could not ease. She felt dirty after the long night acting as midwife and then being trapped in Aelfreic’s room. Not to mention her skin still crawled with the sensation of Dunholm’s hands and mouth. She frowned. He had been at the door again last night. He had started with stern commands to come out. Then he had began worrying over her supposed ‘illness’, followed by entreaties to allow him to make up for their ‘disagreement’. His suggestions for how he might do that made her stomach turn. She would have thrown up if she had eaten anything in the last two days. When she still did not respond, he resorted to threats.