Dream of Me/Believe in Me (90 page)

“He's well again! How wonderful. Are you keeping him, Thorgold?”

“It's more a matter of him keepin' me, lass. But we seem to make a good pair.”

“I'd say you do,” Hawk agreed. “We missed you at the wedding.”

“Ah, well, now I was there, don't ye know. I'm not one to let pass a fine feast and that was the finest I've ever known. I just prefer to keep a bit to the shadows. But it's right glad I am to see ye got the job done, lad.”

They rode on, Thorgold beside them. It was not long before Hawk noticed ravens swooping from tree to tree along their route but he said nothing about that. Nor did he comment when one raven in particular followed them all the way into Hamtun. There were just some things a wise man did not remark upon.

Their ships awaited them. While the horses were being loaded, Krysta sat on a bale of hay and watched. Although the animals were superbly trained, including for travel by ship, the process was still dangerous and had to be done with care. One wrong step and a horse could go into the water, possibly being injured in the process. If an animal panicked and bolted, the men around him could likewise be hurt. Hawk saw to the boarding of his own mount as well as Krysta's, then helped with the others. Last aboard was Thorgold's shaggy pony, who clip-clopped up the gangway as though born to do so.

They sailed on the tide into a day so brilliantly clear as to sting the eyes. As Hamtun and the road to Winchester faded from sight, Krysta felt swept by regret, but her mood improved when Hawk left the rudder to one of his lieutenants and came to sit beside her in the prow.

“We will be back soon, sweetheart,” he said as he drew her into the circle of warmth beneath his cloak. It was brisk out on the water and she was glad of his care. “It is my preference to keep Christmas at Hawkforte but Alfred may visit us before then and bring Eahlswith along.”

“That would be wonderful. Perhaps we can also visit them in the spring.”

Hawk did not answer, thinking that come spring she would be in no condition to travel. Yet no doubt she would still expect to be swimming, sailing, and all the rest. He would have to watch her carefully. The thought did not trouble him overly much, indeed he felt an unexpected sense of pleasure. There were worse things by far for a man to do.

Mindful of all she had been through so recently, Hawk resolved to make this journey as easy for her as possible. By late afternoon of the first day, he signaled the ships to put in to shore. When Krysta expressed her surprise, he said, “It is better for the horses to have some exercise.”

“You did not put in on the way to Winchester.”

“Udell's plotting made the journey urgent.”

She nodded and he turned away lest she catch him rolling his eyes. The nonsense about the horses prevented the argument he was sure would happen if she thought he was coddling her.

They made camp on a sandy shore close to a swift-running brook. While some of the men formed a perimeter guard and others went out to hunt, Hawk enjoyed a rare moment of tranquility with his bride. Beneath the star-draped sky, they supped, laughed over tales Thorgold told, and finally withdrew a little away to sleep until the first faint light of dawn drew them back to their journey. Thus did they proceed until on the afternoon of the fourth day, the cliffs near Hawkforte came into view.

Standing in the bow, his arm around Krysta's shoulders, Hawk looked out toward the fair, green land lazing in the early fall sun and knew a sweetly piercing contentment. Krysta felt it too, for she looked up at him just then and said softly, “I will miss Winchester, my lord, but it is very good to be home.”

Home.
His and hers together. Hawk's arm tightened around her. His pleasure in the moment was boundless.

“Truly, sweetheart, I am so glad to get you back here safely that I swear, I'll even be glad to see Daria.”

Krysta gasped a little at his bluntness but she smiled. No doubt or worry hovered over them as the ships turned toward the quays and the crowd already gathering there.

T
HEY WERE BACK, HER OVERWEENING HALF-BROTHER
and the Norse whore who should by all rights be dead or at the very least dismissed. Inexplicably, she was neither. The fierce pleasure of the moment when that Viking fool stood in Hawk's own hall and denounced the stupid bitch, even calling her a creature of unnatural union, was no more than cherished memory. The dark joy of what should have followed—Hawk outraged at the insult done him, the alliance of Norse and Saxon shattered beyond repair, the land torn by violence that would destroy the hated Alfred and bring the honors and riches so long overdue—was still denied. So cruel and perfidious was fate that defeat seemed snatched from certain victory.

Almost but not quite, for she was not done yet. She had come too far, endured too much to give up. Besides, it would be easier now. They would imagine themselves secure and would drop their guard. She would hide herself behind false humility and bide the moment she was sure must be coming. Then would she strike, the instrument of righteous justice, and all the poisoned torment of her twisted heart would be satisfied at last.

God of vengeance, let that moment come quickly. Let the sins committed against her through all the years of slight and derision be washed away in blood.

“Let me not wait long, Lord, that I may do thy bidding.”

“Lady?” Beside her, Father Elbert turned with that look of concern in his eyes she saw far too often. Abruptly, Daria realized she had spoken out loud.

Her thin face hurt with the effort to smile. “A prayer, nothing more, Father. Surely that is permitted?”

“Most certainly. I only wonder if this is the best moment.”

She frowned at the implication of criticism, however mild, but swiftly hid her thoughts.

When Hawk stepped onto the pier, habit causing him to sweep his keen gaze over the assembled crowd, he saw nothing to cause him any concern. Turning, he held out his arms to Krysta and lifted her from the ship. The moment he did so, the crowd erupted in wild cheers and pressed forward to greet them.

Edvard and Aelfgyth were right in front. Even as the steward struggled to control a grin that proved uncon-tainable, Aelfgyth said, “Oh, my lady, welcome home! We were all so thrilled to hear the tidings of your marriage! Rumor has it yours was one of the grandest weddings ever seen in Winchester. Do say you will tell us all about it.”

“Every little bit,” Krysta promised with a grin. “I shall so bore you with details that you will never want to hear tell of any wedding again.”

“Oh, I doubt that, my lady. Indeed …” She shot a shy glance at Edvard. “I could do with much advice in the planning of mine.”

Which set off a round of squeals and hugs that made the men sigh patiently as Hawk thumped Edvard on the back and congratulated him for being smart enough to snare the girl.

Only then did he take note of Daria and Father Elbert standing a little way to one side. They each looked sour as usual but at least they were present. He nodded to them but there was no opportunity to speak as the crowd closed around the newlyweds. Hawk and Krysta's horses were brought. He ignored hers and lifted her into the saddle with him. That inspired yet more cheers that
accompanied them all the way through the thronged streets to the stronghold itself.

People called out their good wishes as flowers rained down upon them. Children ran up to the horse to hand bouquets of posies to Krysta, who soon had a lap heaped with blossoms. She shone with joy, waving to all and bestowing a warm smile of thanks on each child.

Hawk's pride in her knew no bounds, nor did his happiness. Yet even as he saw Krysta settled into his quarters, now theirs, and went off to receive Edvard's report of all that had occurred during their absence, a niggling sense of doubt teased at him. He had heard Edvard out and was seeking a few minutes to himself in the sauna before the source of his concern finally surfaced in his mind.

Love had come to him when he had never expected to experience it. Love shining and glorious, giving meaning to life and even, he dared to think, understanding of God's purpose. Yet had it come so easily when all was said and done. That should have pleased him and perhaps it would have were it not for the harsh instruction of experience.

Nothing he valued had ever come to him easily. For the land he loved, he had fought, bled, and come very close to dying many times over. For the woman he loved, he had needed patience and to kill an enemy, nothing more.

Too easy.

He shook his head. It was folly to think that. Life was uncertain and fraught with peril, yet he had Krysta safe and by his side. Was he becoming like an old man to fret over shadows?

But there was one shadow and honesty forced him to admit it. A thin, ugly shadow cast by his half-sister. Daria had run his household for more years than he cared to remember. Now she would have to yield that authority to
his bride. A woman of ordinary temperament might well resent such change. Daria was likely to loathe it.

He had fought Danes with more relish than he contemplated the action he must take and yet he was unwilling to put it off. Something Cymbra had said to him once in passing, having to do with difficulty establishing herself in her husband's household, encouraged him to settle the matter quickly. He rose from the sauna, doused himself with cold water, dressed, and went in search of Daria.

He found her in the chapel. For a moment, entering that hallowed precinct of filtered light and scented air, he had the sudden perception that she had meant him to find her like that. Her head was bent, her hands clasped in reverent prayer. She looked the very image of a righteous woman.

Daria gave no sign of knowing he was there yet he was certain that she did. His own senses were too keen to credit her unawareness. The thought drifted through his mind that he did her a disservice—that for all her unpleasantness perhaps Daria was truly devoted in her faith. He let go the notion as quickly as it came to him for it made no difference. It was her behavior that mattered and he had always in the private places of his heart thought her conduct distinctly unchristian.

She stirred then as though awakening from a trance, blinked several times, and turned her head slowly. At first she appeared not to see him, and when she did, finally, she mustered an apologetic smile.

“Brother, have I kept you waiting? I ask your pardon.”

Hawk had little patience with pretense and he showed none now. “Ask pardon for being at prayer? I do not think so, lady. Had I been kept waiting too long, I would have left.”

She frowned and he was glad to see it for he thought it
the first honest response from her since he had entered the chapel. Slowly she rose as though made stiff by her devotions. Always she had made a show of such things, nurturing ills she was too noble to disclose. He had no patience with that either.

Yet he must find some, for he truly wanted to deal with her gently.

“You will always have a home here.” It was not the most tactful way to put it but he wanted her to know that he had no thought of abandoning her. She was his half-sister, they were bound by blood; whatever his personal thoughts about her and whatever the changes that occurred in his life, he would provide for her.

“Home,” she said and looked at him quizzically. He thought of his own pleasure in what that word represented and wondered if she felt anything approaching the same.

He plunged on. “But the Lady Krysta is now my wife and she must have the ordering of the household. Therefore, you will turn over your keys to her.”

Something moved behind Daria's eyes. He was too skilled a warrior not to catch it yet was it gone in a moment, replaced by a swift nod.

“Yes, of course, I had planned to do that without delay. Naturally, I will be happy to assist her in any way I can.”

He had an argument prepared, a speech for persuading her to comply. So swift was her agreement that the words remained unspoken. Yet they hovered on his tongue, for he was that surprised to have such easy victory.

Too easy?

The same thought again, niggling at him. He dismissed it impatiently.

“Good, then all will be as it should.”

Daria said nothing more but only stood there in the
scented chapel, her arms across her thin chest, the hands hidden in her sleeves. Hawk did not see that they were clenched.

Father Elbert delivered the keys to Krysta. He brought them to her in the kitchens where she had gone with Aelfgyth, little Edythe trailing after them. Her first day back, a feast in the works, she thought it right to be there even as she wondered at Daria's absence. The priest explained it in his fashion.

“I am instructed to give these to you,” he said and contrived to hand over the keys in such way as to take no risk of touching Krysta, a woman, a suspected pagan for all her claims otherwise, twice unclean.

He looked torn, relieved of his burden and wanting to be gone yet driven all the same to instruct her from his lofty heights. “The Lady Daria has set a very high standard in the keeping of this manor. I hope you will endeavor to do the same.”

Privately, Krysta did not think Daria's standards high at all, at least not in the matter of treating people with proper regard. But it would have been ungracious to say so. “I will do my best,” she said, and sighed with relief when he left, scowling as he had come.

Scarcely was he gone than Aelfgyth could not contain herself. She bounced up and down, grinning hugely. “Oh, my lady, I hardly dare believe it! You're mistress here now and praise God that is so.”

Mistress
, Krysta thought, and tried to return her friend's bright smile but apprehension tugged at her. Never had she had the running of any place as grand as Hawkforte. By comparison, her lost home in Vestfold was small and simple. How was she to manage with so many hundreds of people looking to her to do what was right, expecting it of her really, and she dreading the thought that she might let her husband down?

“None of that,” Aelfgyth said sternly, correctly
divining what was going through Krysta's mind. “You'll do splendidly. We'll see to it, won't we, Edythe?”