‘I understand you’ve arrested this man for my murder, Stepmother.’ Ceanna pointed towards where he stood. ‘Release him. As you can see, I am very much alive.’
Sandulf’s eyes narrowed. Where was his sword? How could she have forgotten it? She seemed to think mere words would alter this. He fought against the ropes, but one knot was more stubbornly tied than the rest.
‘Brother. I can take her before anyone notices,’ Lugh said in a low voice. ‘Blame it on the Northman, trying to escape. The villagers will lap it up. I can preach a sermon on it.’
‘Do it.’
Sandulf twisted his wrist to the right, to the left and slid his hand out. He grabbed the dagger from his boot, pivoted, but saw he was too far away for an accurate throw. Lugh was nearly upon Ceanna. Then he saw him, his battered but unbowed brother standing in front of her, with a drawn sword, their family’s battle cry emerging from his throat.
Lugh belatedly tried to change course, but his momentum carried him forward. But with one motion, Danr connected with the robed assassin.
There was a gurgle and Lugh fell to the ground at Ceanna’s feet. Danr made a little flourish with his hand and bowed towards Sandulf. Always the showman was Danr, Brandt used to say.
Sandulf clenched his dagger until his knuckles ached. ‘Brother, you were supposed to be resting from your ordeal.’
‘I believe I’ve saved your life, Sandulf. Do not throw it away so easily next time.’
‘Guards, seize them!’ Lady Mhairi shouted. ‘These heathens have attacked and killed a monk!’
Nobody moved. All shocked eyes seemed to be on Ceanna.
‘What are you waiting for? That man, that heathen, slew a monk in cold blood,’ Feradach shouted.
The guards and the now-gathering crowd remained still.
Ceanna raised her arms. ‘For the sake of the love and affection you have given me and my family, I beseech you, stay your hands. These men have saved my life. There has been a plot against me and my father. My stepmother and Feradach, the captain of the guards, seek my death.’
The crowd began to mumble. A lone woman’s voice called, ‘God bless Lady Ceanna! Hooray that you are alive!’
The cry was taken up, growing louder and louder until the roar shook the buildings. Ceanna’s mouth dropped open and she stood still for a heartbeat.
She retrieved the sword Lugh had been carrying and held it above her head. Her smile became genuine as the crowd responded with even greater cheers.
Sandulf watched Feradach and Lady Mhairi. The crowd would prevent them from escaping, but they remained dangerous.
‘Lady Ceanna is touched in the head, like her father,’ Lady Mhairi proclaimed. ‘There has been no plot. Merely a misunderstanding. The holy priest was going to embrace her. Ceanna, look at what you have done.’
‘I overheard the plot that you, your lover and this supposedly holy man were concoting,’ Sandulf said. ‘Even men secured to posts have ears.’
‘And you are?’
‘Sandulf Sigurdsson, husband to Lady Ceanna of Dun Ollaigh.’
The woman’s mouth fell open. ‘You can’t be.’
‘We married at St Fillans with my aunt’s blessing,’ Ceanna proclaimed loudly.
‘Mother Abbe gave her blessing?’
‘Yes, and it cannot be undone,’ Sandulf said. He judged the distance between the woman and the captain of the guard. Even now Danr was slowly moving towards him, getting himself in position.
‘Where are the royal children, Stepmother?’ Ceanna asked and Lady Mhairi’s head swivelled towards her. ‘The sons of the late King Aed that the false monk promised he would take to Éireann. I presume they are somewhere in Dun Ollaigh.’
Her stepmother took a step backwards and stumbled. ‘You said it was Ceanna, Feradach. You said it was her before the coffin was nailed shut. We buried her.’
‘It was all her idea!’ Feradach said, looking about him wildly. ‘Lady Mhairi and my brother. Concocted in St Fillans. Nothing to do with me. I can’t stand her and her whining ways. Dried-up stick of a woman. Guards, arrest her!’
‘You liar! I will stop your lying mouth.’
Lady Mhairi rushed forward and wrenched the dagger from Sandulf’s hand. Before he could react, she plunged it into Feradach’s throat. He gurgled and fell forward.
The crowd looked on in stunned silence. Urist, who had stood quietly during all this, rapidly looked about him and fell to his knees while he loudly proclaimed his loyalty. That he had recognised Sandulf and had not given him away.
Ceanna ran over to Sandulf’s side and threw her arms about his neck. ‘My husband.’
The crowd roared their approval.
‘It would appear they have missed you,’ Sandulf murmured, watching the crowd and Ceanna’s reaction to it. They loved her and it would seem she revelled in it. The knowledge struck him like a knife. How could he ask her to give this up? His duty was to his family and hers to these people.
He had worked for years to avenge the murder of Ingrid and her unborn child. His brothers would need him at their side. And Ceanna wouldn’t need him at all.
The thought made his chest ache. He wanted her to need him—to love him with her whole heart and not just say the words because he had put himself in danger. He wanted to prove that he was worthy of her love.
With an effort he pushed the thought away. He focused on the present objective, rather than worrying about battles to come.
‘I think you had best come back to Dun Ollaigh, Stepmother,’ Ceanna said in a very quiet voice, holding out her hand to her as the cheering died away. ‘We have much to do.’
Her stepmother’s eyes were wide and darted everywhere, never resting on anyone or anything, a contrast to the earlier gaze Sandulf had endured from the woman. ‘I need to see to your father, Ceanna. It has been most unconscionable that you have been gone for so long. You worried him to the point of near death. I actually feared your funeral would be the death of him. He did insist on going. And he will have to be told gently that you are, in fact, alive.’
‘You buried another woman’s corpse.’
‘That man, Urist, he led me a merry dance with a closed coffin. Feradach told me his brother had lost control back at the clearing when you wouldn’t answer him. I feared him, truly I did, and his brother was worse. I couldn’t look. He said your head was totally crushed.’
‘That is not what you said to Feradach,’ Sandulf said. ‘I believe you wanted the shock of the funeral to kill your husband, Lady Mhairi. You knew that body wasn’t Ceanna’s and played along. Urist, to his small credit, refused to tell you where Ceanna was when Feradach threatened the life of his son.’
‘Indeed.’ Ceanna’s voice dripped ice.
‘You have always been far too headstrong, Ceanna. All I have ever wanted for you was the best.’ Her stepmother gave a little simpering smile. ‘No doubt you told these men a pile of untruths and embellished stories, but you and I know the full truth, don’t we? I have never been your enemy, Ceanna. Search your heart. You know that to be true.’
Ceanna signalled to two of the townspeople who grabbed her stepmother’s arms. ‘My stepmother needs to return to Dun Ollaigh with me. My father should have the opportunity to hear what has happened here.’
A small smile which Sandulf distrusted appeared on her stepmother’s lips. ‘I’d be grateful.’
Ceanna rapidly organised the villagers, all of whom obeyed her words without questioning. She was in her element, here, moving with assurance and command.
‘Your stepmother is probably the most dangerous of the lot. Do you trust her guards?’ Sandulf murmured as he stooped to regain his dagger.
‘I agree with you.’ Ceanna handed him Lugh’s sword and wiped her hands on her gown. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. ‘I need to find my father. He needs to know I live while time rema
ins for us. He deserves the truth, but my stepmother is right, it will have to be gently done.’
‘We will all go.’ Sandulf put his hand on her shoulder. She briefly rested her head on his chest as if she was drawing strength from him, but then seemed to remember something, stood up straight and began speaking to various well-wishers.
‘My Lady, I wanted to say I was sorry, sorrier than you will ever know. And I didn’t betray you. I told them a Northman kidnapped you and I expected you were dead in the forest. But I couldn’t be sure seeing as how my head ached so bad.’ Urist, shame-faced, stepped in front of them. For a change, he was speaking Gaelic.
‘I overheard them saying they’d held a sword to your son’s throat and threatened his life, but your story never varied,’ Sandulf said. ‘Thank you for keeping quiet and protecting Lady Ceanna in your own way.’
Urist stood up a bit straighter. ‘I was right to get that body, but I was wrong about who was going to attack us. I thought this here Northman would, except now they say he is your husband and that means he will be my lord soon. But that Feradach was thoroughly bad.’
‘I hope my father lives for some time yet. And I am grateful...’
‘And I didn’t betray your man neither. I could have done, but I didn’t. My loyalty, my lady, does belong to you.’
‘Your delay assisted us both times,’ Sandulf said in Pictish and held out his hand. ‘Shall we put the past behind us?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you spoke my language? You are one of the good ones.’
‘Remember that,’ Ceanna said, fixing Urist with her gaze. She did not fully trust the man, but what he had done had certainly helped them. ‘My husband is one of the good ones and I want no more trouble from you.’
Urist went running off, shouting about how Lady Ceanna’s new husband was a good Northman.
Sandulf controlled his features. He was under few illusions that the people who lived here would accept him if not for Ceanna. In time, he hoped... He dragged his mind away. The future stretched out uncertainly before him.
‘Your lady is far more of an important personage than I first realised. You’ve done well, Brother,’ Danr said in an undertone. ‘I assumed she was some woman you picked up on your travels. Pretty enough in her own way, but...’
Some woman. Like one of his faceless women? Sandulf pitied his older half-brother. He didn’t understand the difference. Ceanna had ruined him for other women. He now totally understood Brandt’s overwhelming anger at Ingrid’s death. He hated to think how he’d behave if such a tragedy had befallen Ceanna. But what he felt for Ceanna was far too new and overwhelming to be confessed to his brother.
‘I realise what you are saying,’ he said when he trusted himself to speak. ‘You made a mistake. Ceanna is far more than some woman. She is my wife, my Skadi.’
‘A force to be reckoned with.’
‘That she is.’ Sandulf watched how she stopped to talk to people and allowed herself to be enveloped in a variety of hugs as she started towards the fortress.
He had thought it would be a relief to be able to give Ceanna’s protection over to someone else, but a huge hole opened in his insides. He wasn’t ready to give it up yet. He wanted to be her hero, the one who gave her everything her heart desired, and it frightened him. He had nearly caused her death today. It was his brother’s actions which had saved her, not his. He needed to remember that he did not deserve her yet.
Chapter Fourteen
Ceanna tried to concentrate on the little things which needed to be done, rather than the enormity of what had happened. Sandulf had narrowly escaped with his life. Her body still shook from the memory of that man’s hands about Sandulf’s throat. And then the sight of the naked sword heading towards her. Danr had been correct when he predicted that she would require his help.
Easier not to think about what could have happened by ordering the townspeople to bury the bodies and bind her stepmother. Little things. When she could do no more, she started towards Dun Ollaigh with Sandulf and his brother. Her stepmother, flanked by Bertana’s husband and another man, followed along behind.
‘Do you think the guards will be loyal to you or to your stepmother?’ Sandulf asked as they neared the gate. His words were oddly formal as if he was still embarrassed about her earlier outburst where she’d offered him her heart and he’d refused it.
‘I will deal with it whatever happens.’ Ceanna balled her fists and concentrated on putting one foot firmly in front of the other. Even saying the words out loud made her feel more confident. She hadn’t time to waste on dreams or wishes. She had to concentrate on what she could accomplish. ‘The people of Dun Ollaigh deserve better than what they currently have. I alone can rectify that.’
She kept her head up. She was done with begging anyone for love. Her heart ached for him, but his did not ache for her. She could not force him to think she was indispensable.
‘You alone?’
‘I am developing a plan as we speak.’
‘You and your plans.’
Ceanna stopped abruptly. Sandulf had to see that she could make a difference here. Coming back had taught her that she’d been mistaken—she was far from alone. The townspeople trusted her to help them. And they had helped her once they realised what had been happening. They loved her, even if he had no true feelings for her. ‘This one worked, didn’t it?’
He gave a smile which made her insides melt. She stiffened her spine. He didn’t need her love and he didn’t want it.
‘Danr, staying hidden until the last heartbeat, was a master stroke.’
Danr laughed. ‘Sandulf, you are married to a woman without a romantic bone in her body and who is more like your Aunt Kolga than Ingrid. Do you remember how you swore you’d never marry anyone like her? You were always going to marry Ingrid’s lookalike.’
The laughter died from Sandulf’s eyes. ‘My wife is nothing like my aunt.’
‘I didn’t mean any offence.’ Danr held up his hands. ‘It is Kolga who was the one who was always thinking ahead and making plans for Maerr, according to my late mother. A practical person rather than a dreamer.’
Ceanna hated the stab of envy which sliced through her. Danr was right—she was practical. But she wanted Sandulf to think she was like Ingrid—worthy of love. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment. Practicality gets results.’
Sandulf lowered his brow. ‘We will speak, Danr, but know that I and my practical wife had everything in hand without your interference.’
‘My interference, as you term it, saved both your lives, oh, baby brother of mine.’
Ceanna cleared her throat and they both turned in surprise to look at her. ‘You two can argue to your heart’s content later, but we must attend to the task at hand—securing Dun Ollaigh and ensuring my father recovers. I suspect my stepmother was doing something to make him weak. My aunt said that my stepmother and Brother Mattios nursed Father Callum, the priest who died unexpectedly. Something about that story sounded all too familiar.’
‘What did I say? Practical to her fingertips,’ Danr said. ‘Once I’d worried that you would find someone with other desirable attributes and not a single thought in her head.’
The way he said it with a slight curl of his lip made a knot of unease grow in Ceanna’s stomach. She wanted to be the sort of woman Sandulf chose willingly to spend the rest of his life with.
Now that they had dispatched both Feradach and his brother, there was no reason for Sandulf to continue to protect her until she reached a place of safety. And she had.
‘My father will be in his chamber, I believe.’
Sandulf squeezed her hand. ‘Are you nervous about encountering your father?’
She pasted on a smile, grateful for the excuse. The last thing Sandulf needed was her mooning after him in front of his brother. ‘It is harder than I thought it might be.’
The colours in his eyes deepened. ‘Undoubtedly you already have plans for every eventuality.’
Ceanna concentrated on the great door at Dun Ollaigh. ‘Something like that.’
‘All this belongs to you?’ Danr asked.
‘After my father dies, it will be my responsibility along with my husband’s. But I hope that day is far in the future.’
Danr thumped Sandulf on the back. ‘You always did have a knack of smelling sweet even when you fell into a pile of dung.’
The look Sandulf gave Danr spoke volumes. ‘My wife’s home is not a pile of dung, Danr.’
‘A figure of speech. I am sure your wife understands—I am pleased for your good fortune.’
Sandulf gave a grunt and banged on the door for it to open.
The guards looked at Ceanna open-mouthed. Ceanna greeted them by name and they quickly recovered their poise.
‘I believe you should let me in to see my father.’
‘Is it truly you, my lady?’ one of the older guards asked. ‘We’d heard rumours, but Feradach said before he left that we were to keep everyone out save him and Lady Mhairi.’
‘Feradach always did like twisting the truth and he is no longer able to issue orders.’ Ceanna rapidly explained the situation before gesturing towards her stepmother. ‘I believe my lady stepmother needs to rest after her ordeal.’
‘That sounds like a good idea,’ the guard said.
Her stepmother was taken to her chamber. She went meekly and without a fuss. She shot a dagger look at Sandulf, but it was so quick that Ceanna thought she must have imagined it.
‘Will you take me to my father? He must be informed of Feradach’s demise and my resurrection, as it were.’ She gave a weak laugh, but her stomach was in knots. One or two let out ragged cheers while they watched Sandulf and Danr with careful eyes. Feradach had been feared rather than admired. But Ceanna immediately saw that they were no more certain about a Northman potentially being in charge.
* * *
Conveniently Wed to the Viking Page 21