‘This is Lady Cynehild of Baelle Heale. Her late husband used to be lord of these lands.’ Kal inclined his head. ‘I trust you understand my reasoning? You must remember my stated intention is to hold these lands until my final breath.’
Alff gulped—hard. ‘I knew you had allowed the lady to travel here. I counselled against it, but you overruled me. I see now that you have made further plans without consulting me. Weaving peace is a good strategy...if you can stomach the woman.’
A wave of dizziness passed over Kal. Instantly Cyn noticed and started forward, but Kal shook his head and gestured that she should remain with her men.
‘You didn’t think I would allow such an opportunity to pass me by, did you? Are you sore because you have lost your wager about who I would marry? I did warn you not to bet on my bride as you’d never guess who she was.’
Alff’s pale cheeks became infused with rose. ‘That much is true. You did warn me.’
‘We suit far more than I’d considered possible.’
He hoped that Cyn understood his words. He knew he couldn’t give her his entire heart—not yet. That had turned to stone a long time ago and was only just beginning to thaw. But he could give her his warm regard and his friendship, and his fidelity in the bedroom. Their marriage did make sense—not just as a feint, but in truth. He simply had to convince her why it was right for both of them.
‘But why make us think something dreadful had happened to you?’ Toka asked, linking her arm with Alff’s and whispering something Kal didn’t catch in his ear.
‘My message must have been lost.’ Kal shrugged. ‘Now I’ve returned, prepared to wed a suitable lady, as my people asked me only a few weeks ago.’
The crowd roared its approval and he relaxed a little. The men for the most part were with him and not Alff.
‘I heard a tale that the Mercians had enchanted you. I presumed it meant they had somehow overcome you.’ Alff rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Trust Haddr to have made a mistake.’
‘Where is Haddr? He is not with you?’
‘He decided to stay at home today, but he blurted out the tale yesterday evening, when he was somewhat the worse for wear after losing heavily at dice,’ Toka said. ‘I don’t think he is happy in his marriage. I can’t think why you championed it, Icebeard, after I warned you that it would not be good for anyone.’
Kal noticed the slight pursing of Cyn’s lips. The description of Haddr’s drunken tale had been almost too pat, and Luba had already proclaimed how contented her daughter was.
Haddr had difficulty remembering where to stand in a shield wall, or which way to wheel when the enemy pressed them on the flank. His failure had been part of the reason Kal had planted his own feet at Basceng and stopped the shield wall from crumbling. About all Haddr was good for was the sheer, mind-numbing hard work of rowing. And yet there had been a reason why he’d agreed to this marriage. He knew in his heart that he’d wanted peace, and Luba’s family commanded the respect of the village.
‘I was worried about you, Icebeard... Toka was worried. This behaviour is unlike you—keeping yourself absent from your men, sending no proper message. Have our recent quarrels destroyed your trust in me?’
The faint pounding of Kal’s head became a steady throb. Quarrels over what?
‘Tales grow in the telling, Alff, that is all. Thankfully I decided to show Cynehild my hall today. No great harm has been done other than a few cuts and bruises which will heal.’
Alff blinked. ‘Harm?’
‘I would hate to think that anyone would do something untoward towards those men. My lady’s men are my men now. You moved to strike against them without fully investigating their presence here. Compensation must be paid to them, Alff. Your Jaarl has spoken.’
Alff’s mouth opened and shut several times. ‘I thought you were in danger. Why must you try to pick fault with me? Why must you always prove Toka right?’
‘Indeed...’ Kal drew his sword. ‘What is it that you sought, Alff—leadership of my felag? I’m not minded to give it up just yet.’
Alff watched the sword uncertainly and stumbled backwards. ‘Now, see here, Icebeard—’
‘Spare my husband! He rose from his sickbed to save you.’ Toka fell to her knees and raised her arms in supplication. ‘How were we to know you wanted a betrothal with a woman like that? Look at her.’ She gestured towards Cyn. ‘Even now I’m not sure I truly believe you. You are playing some sort of game, and I won’t have my husband sacrificed for your paranoid thoughts.’
Cynehild’s generous mouth became pinched. It was true that her travelling gown did nothing for her colouring, but her curves remained magnificent and the fire in her eyes shone.
‘I am looking at her and I am very happy with what I see.’
‘But she is not your type. She looks nothing like my sister.’
‘You’ve no idea about my type, Toka.’
Toka took several steps backwards. ‘You declared that your heart was buried with my sister when I suggested you start looking for a bride less than a month ago—and now this. You kept us in the dark, and now you seek to blame Alff for assuming the worst! Where is your fabled justice in that?’
Kal flexed his hands. Toka had caused problems in his marriage to Ranka. Would he have accepted her now that she was married to his cousin? Kal firmed his mouth. No, he’d have barely tolerated her at best, he decided.
‘Do I confide my secrets to you, Toka? Have I ever done so?’
She raised her hands. ‘Then don’t blame Alff. Blame me. I felt that there was something odd in Haddr’s tale and sent him out there. Rumours about outlaws have been swirling since we arrived in this place.’
‘Look into your heart, Kal,’ Alff added, moving behind his wife. ‘You know I could never go against you. I’ve no idea what this woman has been saying about me or the Danes. But I have always been your most loyal supporter. Toka has as well, since our marriage. Why would you doubt this?’
‘I’m concerned that your men did not follow my orders when I asked them to release their captives.’
‘A momentary hesitation, that is all. The shock of seeing you so well when we feared you dead. After all we have been through...’
Kal growled in the back of his throat.
Alff lost more colour in his face. ‘I do apologise, cousin. It won’t happen again.’
‘We must feast instead of quarrelling.’ Toka clapped her hands and various servants brought out horns of ale. ‘All here wish to welcome your return, Icebeard, particularly with such an...intriguing companion.’
Alff staggered to one side. ‘I’m not sure if a feast is a good idea, wife.’
‘Nonsense. You always enjoy feasts.’
Kal put an arm about Cynehild’s waist and she immediately moved closer, so that his body could be supported. This skirmish might be over, but he had no proof that Alff had been behind the attack. Until he had proof, he refused to act against his blood kin.
‘Let us feast and raise a glass to friendships and my betrothed. But first I need to ensure my lady greets her new people properly.’
* * *
Having old retainers come up to her with tears in their eyes, thanking her for returning and taming Icebeard, was especially hard for Cynehild. Several of them asked after Wulfgar, remembering him from when he was a tiny baby and telling her how much they’d missed him. But no one asked how Leofwine had died.
She hated to think about disappointing them again when she left. In her heart she knew that Kal would stay on these lands and fight to the last drop of his blood. He would not have fled.
She stayed until the last person had kissed her hands, and then went with Kal back to the bedchamber.
‘You were patient with the villagers,’ he said.
‘They seemed pleased to see me, but they want you as their jaarl.’
Kal
practised a swing with the sword. ‘Your popularity outshone your husband’s.’
‘If you’d known that, would you have truly sought my hand?’
He put the sword down. ‘It’s something I should have considered.’
‘No matter; I would have rejected the offer. Peace-weaving is hard, and I’ve my son’s future to consider.’
His eyes deepened to dark pools, making her want to drown in them.
‘So there’s no room left in your life for yourself?’ he asked.
She hugged her arms about her waist and spoke to the floor. ‘I was certain of that before I left Baelle Heale.’
He went over to where the tafl board was set up and began to move the pieces as if he were searching for a pattern. ‘Has something happened since to change your mind?’
Cynehild stiffened her spine. This wasn’t real. The sooner she returned to her old life the better. Except she liked looking into his eyes and feeling as if someone saw her as a woman again.
‘Nothing. Our current agreement suits me.’
He crossed the room in two strides and stood a breath away from her, lifting a hand to her face. ‘We could discuss altering it to suit both our advantage and our pleasure.’
He had said nothing about love or respect.
Cynehild swallowed hard, tried to ignore the warm fluttering in her belly and fought against the urge to turn her face into his palm. ‘We need to expose your enemy. Brother Palni has not returned with reinforcements. You could still lose everything. I could lose everything.’
His hand returned to his side. ‘Always so serious, Cyn.’
‘My men need me. They’ve been injured.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve requested that they have the best care.’
‘I will feel better once I’ve seen them. Alone.’
* * *
Despite the elderly servant’s protestations that Toka ran the infirmary and none could enter without her permission, Cynehild stared the woman down and was allowed to go in.
‘I came as soon as I was able.’
Cynehild went and knelt by the pallets. Her men appeared shaken, and somewhat cut and bruised, but otherwise fine.
‘I’ve brought some herbs from the cart which should assist.’
Using the mortar and pestle in the infirmary, she rapidly made up a poultice for each of them, under the watchful gaze of the elderly servant, and placed the mixture on the worst of their injuries.
‘You should be up in time for Brother Palni’s arrival.’
‘Brother Palni will have our hides when he arrives,’ one of the men said.
‘Why?’
‘We were supposed to prevent you from going to this here hall on pain of death,’ the other one called out. ‘We gave our sacred oaths. Brother Palni doesn’t want you here without him. He said... Well, he said that seeing how you were a widow, your head could be easily turned. You might be tempted to do something foolish. He said he saw how you looked at the Jaarl.’
‘My head could be turned?’
Cynehild did not bother to hide her incredulity. Brother Palni considered her to be lacking in basic common sense. If she had not come to this hall with Kal, these men would likely be dead now. Brother Palni was wrong about her. Being a widow did not mean that she was dead inside. She lived and, what was more, she was fully capable of making her own decisions.
Her next task was to enter the church and check that all remained intact. From the outside, the church appeared neglected. She expected all the gold and silver which had adorned the altar to be long gone, but no one knew that Leofwine had buried the rest of his hoard there. It should have remained undisturbed. Wulfgar’s inheritance...
A wave of guilt swept over her. She missed her son with every fibre of her being, but once she recovered the treasure she’d lose Kal. She knew that deep in her heart. How could he care for her when she’d only come to rob him? Would he understand her motives for doing so?
Yet telling him of her quest would cause more uncertainty. She needed him to keep her safe until Palni arrived and, more importantly, she wanted Kal to remain looking at her as if she was an angel for as long as possible.
But she was an angel with a dark secret.
She pressed her hands against her eyes.
‘You should leave immediately,’ one of the men urged. ‘Take a horse and return to Baelle Heale and your son. Brother Palni will understand.’
If the monk had had his way, she’d still be doubting her ability to do anything beyond spinning, she thought bitterly.
‘We will wait for Brother Palni to return before we leave. I’ve made a promise to Kal—we will help him regain his hall and discover who has tried to blacken my name,’ Cynehild said firmly.
Both men looked suitably ashamed, mumbling their apologies.
‘Good. Get better. I may have need of you yet.’
‘Where are you going, my lady?’
‘I have a betrothal feast to prepare for. Thankfully, Alff thoughtfully brought my cart. My crimson gown will be the most suitable, I wager.’
Cynehild smiled. Toka was about to see that Mercian ladies could be elegant and well turned out. Dismiss her with pointed looks as somehow inadequate and unworthy? That was not going to happen. She would be dressed in her finest gown. And she wasn’t going to think about how Kal’s eyes might gleam in appreciation. That dress always made her hair appear more golden and her lips ruby-red...
‘My lady, are you sure that is wise? What would your father say?’
‘That Mercia must triumph.’
* * *
‘Cousin.’
Kal finished drying his hair after his dip in the lake. If he was going to his betrothal feast, there was no way he would go as he currently was.
‘Cousin.’
‘I’ve come to apologise,’ Alff said.
‘Apologise?’
Kal raised an eyebrow. He’d half expected Alff to seek him out. It was why he’d openly bathed in the lake, rather than using the sweat hut.
‘I should have known you had something up your sleeve when you decided to permit that woman onto your lands.’
Alff’s words practically tripped over themselves in their rush to be said. Kal wondered if Alff had decided to approach him or if Toka had encouraged him. Over Alff’s shoulder Kal scanned the yard. Toka was nowhere to be seen, but Alff glanced back twice, as if he expected to see her.
‘I never considered you might want to marry a Mercian,’ he said, dropping his voice to a hoarse whisper. ‘Never. Not after what you said about her and her kind.’
Kal schooled his features. ‘Do I always need to confide in you?’ He strongly suspected that he’d been less than kind about Cynehild in the days leading up to his accident. He regretted that now. His only consolation was that he hadn’t known her or experienced her generosity of spirit.
Alff shuffled his feet. ‘Not in the slightest. I wish you’d given me some warning, though. Everyone thought you’d met your end, Kal. Toka kept muttering about witches and enchantments and making my head ache. When I dared to complain, she told me the witch must have enchanted me as well, because her remedies refused to work. How was I to know you wanted to bed the Mercian widow? I hope she is worth the trouble you’ve caused.’
Kal clung on to his temper by the slenderest of threads. Bed Cyn? He wanted to grow old with her.
The thought rocked him. That sounded like more than friendship and regard to him.
‘It surprises me that you call me Kal instead of Icebeard.’
‘Icebeard is for the others, to instil respect, but we are blood.’
Alff gave one of his charming smiles, which reminded Kal of how it had been when they were young. Back then, most people had considered Alff to be the one to become a jaarl. Now he looked tired, with his sunken eyes and sallow skin.
�
�You know that, don’t you?’ he asked.
Kal looped the linen cloth about his neck. ‘You seem at pains to ensure I do.’
‘I’ve been unwell.’ Alff patted his stomach. ‘Every time I eat my stomach pains me more than I’ve let Toka know. Today is the first day I’ve been up since you departed that morning, in high dudgeon over my refusal to go hunting with you and try out that new crossbow of yours. Perhaps you would have confided in me then.’
Alff had refused to go hunting with him and had remained in bed ill. And he’d gone to the hill with a crossbow, not a sword. Kal picked up a stone and skimmed it across the lake. The crossbow had obviously been taken. But who had it now? And where was his best sword?
‘Do you intend on being at the feast?’
‘I wouldn’t miss it.’ Alff scrunched up his nose. ‘I don’t suppose she’s had many other offers.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘She is hardly a slender maiden, and her tongue is supposed to be overly sharp. You remarked on that when you gave her your permission to travel here. You wanted to know why she was coming, and if there was any truth in the rumours about her husband’s buried treasure.’
Kal concentrated on the still waters of the lake. Treasure? Cynehild had made no mention of it. Was that what she’d been hiding from him? It was entirely possible that her husband had given her instructions on how to recover it before he’d died.
After what they’d shared, Kal would have liked to think that she would confide in him, but it was looking increasingly unlikely that she had.
Why had he given her permission to come? Had he hungered for more treasure? What did Cynehild intend to do with it if she found it?
His head ached from the dilemma. He needed to know her secrets.
‘There are reasons why we needed time alone before we made an announcement, Alff. My reputation is far from the most congenial, and it has gone before me. She had every reason to consider me a tyrant.’
Betrothed to the Enemy Viking Page 18