Far After Gold (18 page)

If she could forget her pride, she would have food, clothes, and Flane’s protection plus some kind of life with Flane and any children that came along. Her brows knit together. Living in the hall would be too close to Katla. Perhaps he could build a cabin for the two of them.

Oli brought her dry clothes. Unwinding the bundle, she asked him to hold Flane’s old tunic high to shield her from view while she wriggled into her clean, dry chemise and gown. Fastening her belt, she heard Oli suck in a breath. “Watch out,” he whispered through the cloth, “Flane’s coming and he looks cross!”

“What!” Emer hurriedly shook her skirt into place. “My hair! Where’s my comb?” Suddenly she wanted to look her best for him.

***

Flane strode across the hall, put his large hand on Oli’s shoulder and pushed the boy aside. “I want to speak to Emer. Alone,” he added when the boy did not move. Flane waited, grim-faced, until Oli clicked his fingers for Grendel and reluctantly backed away. Then he swivelled to face Emer, sitting cross-legged on the mattress in her newly washed gown, calmly combing her hair. He recognised the comb he had given her, but was in no mood to feel pleased that she had accepted his gift.

She smiled up at him. “Good morning, Flane.”

Flane ignored the courtesies, but could not stop his eyes flicking to the bruise across her cheekbone. Her eye looked red and sore, too. “Did you clean Katla’s room the day before yesterday?”

Her eyes widened. She brought the long hank of chestnut hair over her shoulder and ran it over her palm. “Was it yesterday? Certainly I cleaned her room,” she said. “Is she not happy with my work?”

He could see no trace of guilt in her demeanour, nor hear it in her voice. He propped himself against the bed platform and leaned an elbow on his raised knee. “Did you see a leather purse?”

Emer nodded. “Yes, of course.” She disentangled a knot in her hair and went on combing. “Why?”

“Where was it?”

“On a hanging shelf under a clutter of ribbons and half-made belts.”

“Katla says it had silver in it.”

Emer brought a second hank of hair over her shoulder, glanced at it and picked out a piece of straw. “All I can say is it felt empty. I didn’t look inside.” The comb ran through the glossy hair in smooth strokes. She looked up. “But I expect she’s saying I stole whatever was supposed to be in it?”

He nodded. “Yes. So far she’s only said it to me, but Emer, I—”

“If I were you, I’d go and look in the slave quarters she assigned to me. She’d expect me to sleep there. I expect you’ll find the purse there, full of silver, and I shall of course be accused of stealing it. Unless, of course, she knows I slept here last night. I’m surprised she hasn’t accused me in public already.” She stopped combing, tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked squarely at him for the first time. “But she’s going to, isn’t she?”

Oli, who had been loitering behind Flane, suddenly turned and made for the door.

“Should I go and search?” Flane couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Her smooth round chin tilted and she matched him stare for stare with those expressive hazel eyes.

“Of course you should, if you want to prove my guilt.”

He grimaced. “I want to prove you innocent.”

Her dark brows lifted, and she considered him at some length. “I don’t think you will be able to do that, Flane. This is the kind of deviousness I expected from Katla. It won’t be the last time she tries to incriminate me.”

“I’ll stop her after I’ve found the purse.”

She looked up. “What do you really want, Flane? Do you know?”

“You.” He answered at once, without a second thought and then struck his hand against his thigh in frustration. “But I cannot disregard Skuli’s daughter.”

“Then you have a predicament.” Emer dipped her head to one side, and studied the hair spilling over her palm with frowning concentration. She went on combing in the tingling silence that followed.

Flane wanted to snatch the comb from her and fling it to the other end of the hall. “Are you always this stubborn?” Not by a flicker of an eyelash did she indicate that she’d heard him. The silence stretched out. “We could have a good life, but for your pride.”

Her gaze rose and clashed with his. “How can you say that? It would be a wretched life for me.”

“So you keep saying. But does that mean my whole future should change, because of you?”

Her brows rose in disdain. “You brought me here, so I think your actions brought on the change.”

He swore under his breath and glared at her. She always had an answer. “Definitely an ill-advised action.”

“Well, if you took me home, you could forget about me, marry Katla, have everything you want. Perhaps that would make you happy.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” She smiled gently at him. “You won’t feel guilty once I’m safely home.”

“I doubt I’d feel guilty. But I want you here, with me.”

“I can’t imagine why. I’m nothing to you. Katla is the one who will bring you the steading.”

“She won’t make me happy.”

Emer studied him and then shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure that anyone can
make
someone else be happy. Do I make you happy? I always seem to annoy you.”

“Now you’re playing with words.”

“Since my whole future has changed because of you, I don’t see why yours shouldn’t change because of me, if only a little. At least the decisions you make are your own.”

Flane groaned. “If only you would accept—”

“Your kind offer of marriage? Or slavery?” She shook the whole mass of her hair forward over one shoulder and ran her fingers through, testing for tangles.

Flane clenched his teeth. If Emer had fallen in with his plan, everything would have been so much easier. He was used to getting what he wanted, and not doing it now grated on him. Already the idea of taking Greycloak’s place as leader was losing its lustre, and every hostile exchange with Katla took off a little more. Maybe he’d do better to walk away from the steading and start afresh somewhere else.

He surged to his feet, turned and strode toward the door.

Chapter Twelve

Emer stared after Flane wishing she could recall her sarcastic words, and saw Oli run into the hall and collide with Flane. The boy immediately burst into speech. With apprehension sitting uneasily in her gut, Emer rose and walked to the door.

“Never mind,” she heard Flane say as she drew closer. “Is anyone else there?”

Oli shook his head. “No. It’s empty.”

“Then let’s go and check.”

“What has happened? Where are you going?” she asked.

Flane ignored her. Putting his hand on Oli’s shoulder, the two of them set off across the dusty grass. Determined to know what was going on, Emer followed them toward the dismal little hut Katla had designated as her sleeping place. Flane grabbed the door lintel and swung himself down over the steps and began to search every nook and corner of the hut. Oli joined him.

Emer remained outside. When Flane flung himself on the sleeping platform and pressed his palms against his face, Emer’s doubts increased. It was the kind of gesture she made when things were going wrong and she couldn’t change them.

“I wouldn’t sit there unless you want lice to find you,” she said mildly from the doorway. Without changing her tone, she added, “You could help me escape.”

Flane jerked to his feet, scowled at the bed covering and glared at Emer. “Escape? Why? Where would you go?”

“I have an aunt in Skye. Katla said she would ask her father about a ship going to Skye.”

“I doubt she meant it.” Flane let out a bark of something that was not quite laughter. He mounted the steps and pushed by her into the open air, his voice drifting back over his shoulder. “Skuli Grey Cloak would no doubt sail you to Skye to be rid of you. Katla would sell you to the highest bidder. You asked the wrong person.”

Oli ran up the steps to join Flane. Emer turned and followed them both. “If that is so, then please ask Skuli on my behalf.”

Flane turned swiftly, and stared at her as if she was insane. He started to speak, then clamped his mouth shut and began walking again. “No.”

“Why not, Flane?”

“Because I want you here, damn it.”

“Marry Emer instead of Katla, Flane.”

Emer, aware Oli was trotting to keep up with Flane’s long stride, halted. Flane slowed, and then turned. Oli shifted uncomfortably. “Wouldn’t you like that, Flane?”

“There are many things I would like,” Flane murmured. The soft, slow smile barely moved his mouth, but it left Emer feeling unaccountably breathless. The harshness had gone from him already. He was not a man who held onto his temper. He joined the boy in three long strides, slung an arm across Oli’s slight shoulders and turned him to face the hall. “But…sometimes a man has obligations he cannot ignore.”

His voice trailed into silence. Emer followed his gaze and spotted a group of yawning men and women standing in a loose ring around Katla. One woman hastily plaited her hair, others tied tunic laces and shoe toggles. They looked as if they had been called from their beds to face some emergency.

Standing inside the hall doorway, they listened as Katla spoke to them. Someone gestured toward Flane, and Katla turned at once. She pointed in his direction. “There she is! There’s the thief!”

Emer’s stomach lurched. What was Katla doing now? She glanced at Flane, who gritted his teeth. He pulled Emer behind him and grasped Oli’s shoulder.

“I’ll handle this,” he muttered to the boy. “Get Emer out and away and into the woods if you can.”

***

Flane approached the crowd in the doorway while Oli and Emer stepped quietly backwards and disappeared from view. Katla marched to meet Flane so vigorously the force of her stride kicked up the hem of her gown and swirled it around her ankles. Keys swung from her jewelled girdle. Her black hair, drawn back and knotted on the nape of her neck, accentuated the perfect symmetry of her face.

“I told you she stole it,” Katla declared, waving a leather purse in Flane’s face as if continuing their earlier conversation. Twin spots of colour burned in her cheeks, enhanced her pale skin and lit her wide dark eyes as she gestured back toward the hall. “It was hidden in her sleeping place.”

A collective gasp and a buzz of comment broke out among the avid crowd behind her.

Flane surveyed Katla through half-lowered lids. “Perhaps you mean
my
sleeping place, Katla? Do you think I stole your silver?”

Katla drew a quick, impatient breath. “Of course not! You —
she
slept there last night. She hid the purse, not you.”

He and Oli had searched the wrong place. Flane wanted to laugh, but restrained himself. Then he realised that when they all left the hall, they’d given Katla the perfect opportunity to “find” the purse in his bed space. He couldn’t refute the fact that Emer
had
slept there. “Who dared to search my bed place?”

The crowd shifted uncomfortably, and looked at Katla. Flane waited. Everyone in the hall knew Emer shared his bed space, but it would cost Katla to admit it. “Who did the searching, Katla?

“I did,” she snapped.

“Ah.” He paused, studying her flushed, angry face. “But you are so prejudiced against Emer it would not surprise me to know that you hid the purse there and then
pretended
to find it.”

Her eyes closed briefly, as they always did when she struggled to control her temper. Her harsh breathing lifted the gold brooches at her shoulders, giving the entwined beasts the look of life. Someone giggled at the back of the crowd. “This isn’t a common amusement!” he snapped. “Get back to work!”

People muttered, exchanged rueful glances and slowly shuffled away.

“I found the purse, Flane, where she slept last night.” Katla nodded toward the doorway. “When that girl first came, my father said she would be trouble, and he’s right. There’s been nothing but upset since you brought her here.”

“The troubles, Katla, are mostly of your own making.” His own temper was beginning to sizzle, but he must keep a grip of it.

“That is not true. She’s a thief and I shall tell my father so. The girl will be punished.”

Flane stiffened. The punishment would be a whipping at the very least. “You have your damned purse, and whatever silver was in it. Let that be an end of it.”

Katla shook her head. “We can’t let a thief go unpunished.”

“She is not a thief, and you know it. This is not worthy of you, Katla.” Subdued murmurs reached his ears. Women still stood within earshot. He glared at them and swung round on the men. “Leif, Balder, Thorkel— get these women away from me! And as for you, lady, you can come with me!”

He seized Katla’s elbow, marched her out of the hall and headed for the loch. The jetty would be empty so early in the day, and they could talk there without being overheard. As he walked, he glanced around, but saw no sign of Oli or Emer, for which he was glad. At least the girl was safe for the moment.

“How can you defend that little thief, Flane?” Katla trotted to keep up with him.

“Very easily,” he snapped, and increased his pace.

“Slow down, Flane! What has happened to you?” Katla lagged behind him. “She has bewitched you!”

***

“Oh, Oli, stop! Where are we going?” Emer sagged against a tree trunk while she caught her breath and darted a worried glance around at the encircling trees.

The boy halted and came back to her. “To my den. It’s not far away now. You’ll be safe there.”

“But—”

“I’ll bring food and then you can escape.”

“Escape?”

“You can go to Skye and live with your aunt,” Oli explained, as if it was all perfectly reasonable.

“But I don’t know how to get—”

“Well, you can’t stay here. They’ve killed thieves before.”

She stared at the boy in the sudden silence beneath the trees. “Killed them?”

Oli nodded and jogged away. “Come on, we have to go.” He peered over his shoulder to make sure she started after him. “You’ve got to run away now, before it’s too late.”

“Who killed the thieves, Oli?” Emer asked. A tremor of fear started up deep in her belly.