Only just, was Slayde aware of the crowd gathering around them and the flickering of their torches. Quiet stun turned to rumblings then to shouting, as the circle of men enjoyed the entertainment of StoneHeart at battle with his second. Unleashed, this never-ending requirement to prove himself took hold, urged him to win.
The two men wrestled, rolling, traded blows. Slayde saw stars, felt the queasiness that blood trickling from his mouth and nose invoked. From the slick warmth on his hands, he knew Ailwin was bloodied as well.
Another strike of Slayde’s knuckles to Ailwin’s jaw and his second no longer fought, but went limp, groaning. Slayde pulled himself up to stand over his victory. Heaving, he wiped a stream of blood from the corner of his mouth, scanned the shadowed faces of the men around him. Byrnstan’s was the only expression he could make out, concern and disappointment. All voices had gone silent.
For an instant Slayde thought to challenge any other in the crowd who might question his StoneHeart. Thinking better of it, he pointed to Ailwin’s half-conscious body. “One or more of you, get him to his bed and put him in it. He will sleep off his drunken foolishness.” Two men followed Slayde’s orders and were soon carrying Ailwin away. Still aware of his second’s taunts in regards to Llyrica, Slayde refrained from glancing toward the OnyxFox, and turned instead back to camp.
Goddamn this devil on his shoulder.
Llyrica peered out of the awning of the OnyxFox. A commotion at camp drew her guards away from their post on the ship. Moving a short distance, they appeared to strain to see what had caused men to gather in a circle with torches and raised voices. Curiosity impelled her to follow the guards, to find out why the name StoneHeart was heard in chants. Then one of the men laughed, saying it looked as though StoneHeart had just bettered Ailwin in a fight. Alarmed, Llyrica longed to run to Slayde, see to his comfort, and offer him counsel or a scolding. But none of it would be done for a litany of reasons. Instead she took a deep breath, steeled herself to seize the opportunity she had been waiting for. Her guards were distracted. She flung the old cape around her shoulders. Within moments, she was padding across the muddy field toward Haesten’s stronghold.
She courted folly in the black night, her only guide the lights of the Saxon sentries on watch along the riverfront side of the Viking fortress. One thought filled her mind, the same she had dwelled on for two days ... nay, a lifetime ... to do what she had come here to do. The wait had been torturous, with Broder under their father’s influence, and StoneHeart’s plans unknown to her. For now, she tried not to think of Slayde’s reaction to her leaving. Or to think of love.
Mud squelched around her scohs as she traveled a wide berth past the guarded gate. The last remnants of torchlight receded while she prayed not to be heard by StoneHeart’s men, and searched for some sort of entry point. She need choose her steps carefully now as the dark earthworks rose on her right, closer, leading her around the perimeter of the fortress.
Near total darkness encompassed Llyrica as she made her way with hesitancy. She finally stopped since her sight failed, her breathing all she could hear save an occasional shout of a Saxon troop from the far side. Admitting to the foolhardiness of this errand, she turned to start back when a small light caught her eye. A door not three rods yon opened from the base of the earthworks. Men’s voices sounded in a low argument, something of whether or not to take a dog outside of the walls. Llyrica moved toward the voices, their owners mere shadows. Apprehensive, she felt a rise of nausea. Mother, give me courage.
She deemed her distance close enough for the men to hear her. “Pray give me entrance.”
The two went silent as they turned to her, their faces now lit in dappled torchlight. Stunned looks met her as Llyrica stumbled closer, repeating her entreaty.
She steadied herself with a deep breath. “Surely you have heard of Broder who dwells within. I am his sister and wish to see him. Hurry lest I am discovered gone by StoneHeart and his men while we tarry in the dark.” She continued toward the two, now saw them to be close to Broder in age. A dog at their feet scratched its ear as the two men glanced at each other with dismay.
Turning to Llyrica, one raised his torch higher to look at her and into the empty field behind her. He found his voice, his expression now alight with excitement. “You have come alone! Aye, indeed! Broder will be gladdened by this!”
Llyrica stood face to face with the two, could also peer beyond them down a hallway carved in the earthworks. “Make haste, then. Take me to him.”
A sudden fear like none she had ever known threatened to collapse the legs from beneath her and take the last breath from her lungs. Too late she realized her unprepared state, that she would never be prepared to face her father. All the words she planned to say to him were forgotten. Uncertainty now eclipsed the burden of pain and bitterness she had borne on mother’s behalf. And the fulfillment of the deathbed promise seemed a hopeless, fruitless endeavor. Yet she followed two Viking men deeper into the fortress, could now see their torches illuminating where the pass through would open unto the dwellings within. The light would soon shine on the longhouse where Haesten resided.
But she needed to see Broder first. Dear God, what will I say to him?
One of Llyrica’s escorts ran ahead, calling Broder’s name, disrupting the evening quiet inside the fortress walls. Few lingered in the yards as most were likely already abed.
Cutting through the darkness, torches began immerging from huts as Llyrica approached the shadowed form of the largest dwelling. It must be Haesten’s hall, a thought that induced a new wave of anxiety. Mother, help me.
Broder showed himself a moment later in the doorway. A woman, fair and thin, hung onto his arm. He stood there a moment, perhaps could not see Llyrica at first. Squinting as she drew nearer, Broder’s face suddenly lit up.
“Llyrica, you have escaped and found your way!” He burst upon her, flinging his arms around her. “I knew in my heart you would!” Taut, spare of all but hard muscle, her brother’s arms trembled as they held her.
“Aye, pup, I have come. Ease any fears you have on my account.”
“I have fears too many, sister. But now you are safe with me, I can go forth knowing you are no longer in danger.”
Llyrica would not debate with her brother about where danger did or did not lie. She also needed to go forth, to finish what she came to do. Time would also not wait since StoneHeart might discover her gone at any moment. “I am with you now. Find us a place to talk in peace, then I must ask …”
Interrupting, Broder held Llyrica out at arms length. “How did you do it? Escape from StoneHeart? He will surely try to come for you. I must make ready and alert the others of a pending attack!” He dropped his tight grip on Llyrica’s hands and looked around, seemed ready to make an announcement to the small crowd that had gathered around brother and sister.
“Hold, Broder.” Llyrica grabbed back her brother’s hand, squeezing it. “I have slipped away and indeed my absence will be noted, but I think not until daybreak. So do what you must, but first please let us speak alone.” The hammering of her heart caused her voice to waver. “Since our last meeting, I have thought much on what you told me about Haesten, now wish to know why he has earned your loyalty. I should like to meet him, know him as you do.”
Sadness crossed Broder’s face. “Haesten is unlike any man I have known and I regard him as my lord. When you meet him you will also …” Shadows now defined Broder’s knitted brow. “Say you have not come on the demon’s mission. Has StoneHeart sent you here to spy?”
“Nay, Broder! I have come here at great cost and amidst battle.” But one lie would follow another, a necessary price to see Mother’s promise fulfilled. “I declare my love for you, the same I have always held! I prove it now by entering into this new life of yours. So banish the distrust you hold for me!”
“But all has changed …”
“The fact that you and I are family has not changed.”
Eyes downcast,
confusion contorted Broder’s face. The woman at his side leaned in to whisper into his ear. The crowd around them murmured as torches burned in the night. Meeting Llyrica’s gaze, he sighed, and his shoulders dropped as some of the tension eased from his demeanor. “Lorna, my bride-to-be, speaks wisely, says the time for you and me to mend our breech is nigh. It can be done under Haesten’s wisdom within these walls. All wrongs between us will be cleared, though it be in haste at this late hour. Very well then, sister, come with me and let us make our peace with Haesten as our witness.” He and Lorna turned back to the doorway of the hall and entered. Questions about Broder’s bride would save for later.
Llyrica had wished to speak to Broder alone, but now followed the two, tears of fear blurring her vision. Flickering sconces throughout the dwelling defined its immensity and crowded state. She picked her way along a path between sleeping bodies, human and canine, in various degrees of sleep. The odor of spoiled food, spilled ale and old rushes stifled her.
They arrived at the far end of the hall where ornate screens poorly hid from view a man’s pallet, low to the floor. A semblance of privacy in this large space, it must belong to Haesten. Candles, a show of wealth, burned along a shelf on the wall, their wisps of smoke trailing upward to join the haze at the rafters.
Mouth gone dry, Llyrica could barely swallow. Bad timing added to this task to now confront the warlord in his bed. Odd not to find him already standing to meet her. Were strangers not announced to him before their arrival? Unbearable presage, not of physical danger, but of the heart, demanded she turn and run. Her feet yet moved her closer.
“This is my lord Haesten.”
Llyrica heard her brother’s voice as she looked upon her father for the first time. No menacing power here, no might, no fist to pound a wife into submission. Instead, she found unexpected devastation, a shriveled man, the outline of a bony body beneath a threadbare cloak. Spread over him as a blanket, the wool’s hues of violet, indigo and harvest gold still sang of rich dyes and a weaver’s talent. And of a song woven of long ago love.
Dread brought a roaring in her ears as she leaned in to see her father’s face. Under straggles of beard, Llyrica found it drawn, its pallor pasty. This first sight tricked her, led to her believe the man dead. But, nay. For beneath gray brows, eyes of blue were open, piercing bright despite the darkened hall. His mouth moved, his words not yet audible or sensible. Llyrica’s mind raced even as her body stood immobilized.
I am here mother, as I promised. Yet …
“What will I do now?” Broder’s question echoed Llyrica’s thoughts as he fell to kneel by Haesten’s bedside. “He took me in. Gave me a place of honor. This man gave me a sword. We thought him growing in health again, but now …”
Silent, the only evidence of Broder’s crying was his one hand wiping his eyes. Lorna stood behind him, her hand on his hunched shoulders. A small group of observers lingered.
The impulse to comfort her brother brought Llyrica to her knees beside him. Emotion borne of Broder’s grief and of two deathbeds, one long ago and this one at hand, thrust her mind into chaos. No words would come, no decision made.
“Listen, he speaks.” Broder lowered his ear to Haesten. “I cannot hear you, my lord.”
Haesten took a deep breath, coughed as if to clear his throat. “I search and yet I do not find them. I search yet have not found her.”
His eyes bloodshot, Broder turned to Llyrica. “This is all he says when he is awake as if he is lost in the past. It began when I told him of the Songweaver. What does it mean? He finds no peace and will not find it. What he searches for is long gone, torments him.” Broder put a fist to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. A sob shuddered through him before he could speak again. “I would give him peace if I could, sister. I would repay him for all he has done for me. You must help since you have somehow triggered a memory in him.”
Sorrow swept through Llyrica. Of all the troubles Broder had been in, none had caused him pain such as this misplaced love. Pity for her brother spilled over, inducing a sudden realization.
Mother, you have fulfilled your own deathbed promise, destroying Haesten with a love spell that would not die. His end comes in suffering, as you wished. I am here as your witness.
But now Broder must be released from his suffering.
Llyrica laid a hand on Haesten’s chest and waited until she knew her words would be spoken clearly. She leaned in so that he would hear and understand. “Be at peace, father. Your children are found at last. Llyrica and Broder have come. We are safe.”
Chapter XVI
Only now can you see clearly; the past and future unveiled.
Put aside tomorrow’s fears, or how yesterday you failed.
Look upon the time at hand with bright eyes open wide.
To find solution in the world, just turn and look inside.
“Your wife has not roused by this midday.” The guard, a reliable soldier, now looked sheepish giving this report, and he averted his eyes from StoneHeart’s swollen lip. After last night’s fight, the guard might rightly perceive that his ealdorman’s temper could snap at any moment.
Slayde awaited the remainder, received hesitance instead. He set aside the scroll of building plans he had been studying, his brief respite from murderous thoughts. The torment returned with the urge to grab the guard by the throat. StoneHeart held back. “And so you called to her within and inquired as to her well being?”
The answer was not a surprise. “Aye, but there was no reply. Thus, I come to inform you. For a time, we thought her likely yet abed in female rest. Father Byrnstan then took it upon himself to enter her quarters. We found her gone from the OnyxFox.”
“Holy Christ.” StoneHeart knocked over the table as he arose. Turning from his work overlooking the new Saxon forts, he hastened toward his ship.
The guard ran after. “We fear not that she is drowned since we found her footprints leading toward the fortress!”
Slayde’s first worst fear gave way to others. Llyrica had fled, was lost or within the Viking fortress, held against her will or bound to stay of her own accord. His mind, a riot of all the thoughts and emotions he had ever suppressed, teetered near the loss of control. Byrnstan waited for him on shore where the OnyxFox swayed nearby.
The priest held up a hand as if to calm Slayde, then pointed downward. “See there, her footprints. I noted that her old cloak is gone with her, and all her items.”
Slayde followed Llyrica’s trail with his eyes, saw it did indeed lead to the Fortress Lea. Whether planned or impulsive, this folly of hers suited StoneHeart’s dangerous mood. Gone were the last restraints of conscience. Arrived was the catalyst to set violence loose to do its work. Here was the invitation to the final solution.
StoneHeart’s outward passivity did not betray him as he addressed Byrnstan. “Gather Ailwin, Eadwuf and my captains to the deck of the OnyxFox.”
“Nay, I shall go alone, save Byrnstan.” StoneHeart kept his voice low. “Llyrica’s tracks in the mud are plain to see. She acted on her own. We will not incite undo conflict as we fetch her back.” Hostile intent, which now drove him, caused his hands to form fists, and his eye to twitch mercilessly. Each man attending the meeting shifted from foot to foot as he stood, obviously uneasy. An overcast sky spit warm droplets of rain.
“Yet you do agree this is the ideal opportunity to gain entry into the heart of the fortress,” said Ailwin. “We may hope to find access to Haesten, himself. Let us end this standoff under the guise of a benign retrieval of your wife! Once the doors are open to us, we will fly in with all force!”
Byrnstan raised a hand to calm Ailwin, turned to Slayde. “Consider that Llyrica’s brother will not give her up peacefully. I concur some force should accompany you.”
“To go unarmed is unwise and indeed, not in the best interest of your wife,” added Eadwuf. “I suggest a small party of troops with, as you say, Byrnstan as intermediary.”
His mind made up, StoneHeart remained
silent, let the vehemence boil within.
Ailwin displayed no such calm. “For weeks we planned the assault on Fortress Lea! Now I see carpenters instead of soldiers, hammers and saws instead of swords and spears! I see men in idle task when we came to give Haesten the boot while his force is surrounded and outnumbered! Now this blessing of StoneHeart’s fickle wife shows the time will never be better!”
Slayde noted the tension among the group, the sideways glances his second’s last remark prompted. Does Ailwin dare disparage Llyrica whilst his face yet shows bruises caused by StoneHeart?
It matters not what Ailwin says. What I will do before this day ends, will satisfy even Ceolmund.
“My wife, Ailwin, will be delivered with us unharmed as I have said.” StoneHeart crossed his arms, stood taller. “Exercise patience. All goes according to an agenda long planned. Time is our ally with the inhabitants within growing weaker. The opportunity to rid Kent and the surrounding burhs of these Vikings and their warlord will not pass. By hammer and saw do we strengthen our borders and lessen the threat that another invader may think the River Lea an easy access. And now word has come that King Alfred with reinforcements are on their way.”
The captains consulted among themselves while Eadwuf appeared unconvinced, but nodded. Tucking a strand of white hair behind his ear, Byrnstan looked to keep his thoughts to himself as he kept his place by his godson’s side. Ailwin though, did not concede, but after a defiant glance to StoneHeart, left the OnyxFox in a rage. His long, pounding strides rocked the ship in its moor.
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