Hearts Aflame (31 page)
“Ah,
those
words.” She grinned too.
“Does the wench have freedom to come and go?” Ohthere asked now.
“Aye, as far as I know. But of Edrea I know very little, so I cannot say if she would help—even for Bjarni’s sake. The servants all fear me still and barely speak to me, except for the old woman Eda, but she is very loyal to her lord. I will try to speak to Edrea, though, and see if she does have some feeling for Bjarni. I can at least tell her what a fine, loyal, and faithful man he is.”
Kristen said this with another grin, for everyone knew what a womanizer the young Viking was, including herself. Yet he was in fact the most handsome among them. If any of them could win a young girl’s heart and make her betray her own people, Bjarni was the one.
They continued to ply her with questions, wanting to know who the young lords were who had come to look them over the other day. They were surprised to learn that one was the King of these Saxons and that he was staying at Wyndhurst for a time. She had to describe him down to a hair, for he would make the perfect hos
tage if he ever got near enough to them again so they could grab him. With Alfred of Wessex in their hands and threatened, they could demand their freedom, and hers as well. It would be the easy way.
But although Kristen obliged them in telling all she could, she doubted her Saxon would ever let his King that close to the prisoners for just that reason. He was careless with his own person, but he would not be with Alfred.
She finally chided them all for letting their food get cold, and they went for the poorly carved wooden bowls they had for their use, bowls that gave up as much splinters as food—except Thorolf. He pulled Kristen down beside him to sit against the wall, twining his fingers with hers, which he rested on his bent knee.
He did not look at her, but out at the room. Ohthere had made a point of not asking her how she fared, for he could see with his eyes that she was well in mind and body. Thorolf had no such reluctance in addressing a delicate subject.
He came right to the point. “It is true, then, what the Saxon told me? You like him?”
Royce was their enemy. He had enslaved them all. She knew what Thorolf was thinking. How could he understand, when she did not?
Kristen did not hedge words either, saying plainly, “When I look at him, I feel wonderful inside. That has never happened to me before, Thorolf.”
“You would have him for your husband?”
She grinned ruefully, though he did not see it. “I would, but he would not.”
His fingers gently squeezed hers. “I feared you did not know it, that you expected him to honor you.”
“I did not lose my mind or reason along with my…I know exactly what to expect. He likes me well enough now, but—”
“Now?”
“He thought I was a whore at first. Nay, Thorolf.” She smiled as his eyes swung to her angrily. “You are supposed to laugh. I did. And I let him think it. He was disgusted and it kept him from me for a while. But I came to regret that he did leave me alone. I was most willing when he finally…As I said, he likes me well enough now, but he will not trust me farther than he can see me. And yet he keeps other men from me. He even had my chains removed while these young lordlings are staying here at Wyndhurst, so I could protect myself when he is not near.”
“So you have him, or half of him?”
“Aye, half of him, and I will lose that half when he weds. And yet…”
She sighed instead of finishing. Thorolf squeezed her fingers again to let her know he understood. He would not be a hypocrite and tell her she was wrong to want the Saxon. He knew he would do exactly as she if their positions were reversed and he found himself desiring his foe. He would take his pleasure, too, while he could, even of an enemy. That she was a woman and not expected to feel that way about it would make little difference to her. She was her mother’s daughter, and Brenna Haardrad was a bold one who thought of herself before she thought of what was proper for a woman.
“Do not fret over it, Kristen.”
“Not fret?” Her tone was soft, traced with bewilderment. “Logic tells me I should hate him already. I did have hope,” she admitted grudgingly. “But that has been crushed now that I have seen his betrothed. And yet, God help me, Thorolf, he took me swimming after he caught me attempting to escape. Why would he do that?”
“I suppose he had no pleasure in it?”
“He could have had his pleasure anywhere. He did not have to take me to the lake.”
“Well, there you are. The man is bewitched by you, and that is not likely to change.”
“Bewitched? Nay, I am the one who is bewitched. I know I will hate him eventually, but I would rather it be now than later. I wish he would marry soon and have done with me.”
Thorolf grinned at the sullen tone, then burst into laughter when she scowled at him for it. “I pity your Saxon, wench, I really do. Done with you? Odin be praised, it is the other way around. When you are done with him, let us hope he is not too heart-stricken.”
Kristen giggled at the unlikely notion of Royce being heart-stricken, and then she laughed heartily too. It was too absurd, really, but she appreciated Thorolf s trying to bolster her self-esteem.
That was how Royce saw her when he stepped into the open doorway: sitting practically in the Viking’s lap, their hands entwined and laughing together. His first urge was to tear them apart and thrash the young Viking to a pulp, but he tamped it down. He had forgotten how these Vikings felt about her.
The room grown quiet made Kristen look to see why, and then she groaned inwardly. “I think I have stayed too long.”
Thorolf’s hand tightened on hers when she started to rise. “Will he come in here and get you, Kristen?”
His question appalled her. “Look at him. That is not his pleasant look, I can assure you. You want him to drag me out of here?”
“I wonder what would happen if he tried.”
In that moment her thoughts apprehended his and she cried, “Thorolf!”
“We can take him, Kristen,” he said quietly, his eyes locked with those of the Saxon as he spoke. “He will do as well as his King as a hostage. In here they cannot fire arrows at us from afar to force us to release him.”
Her mind and body screamed nay, but her voice spoke reason. “I know him, Thorolf. Listen to me well. His
people and his duty come first with him. He has it set in his mind that slaughter will be done if you are freed. He cannot be convinced otherwise. He will sacrifice himself before he will give the order for your release.”
Thorolf had reasoning of his own. “His guards will not listen if his life is threatened.”
“It will not work, I tell you!”
“Your cousin disagrees. Look at him, Kristen. Ohthere has already reached the same conclusion as I. If your Saxon is foolhardy enough to come in here to get you, then he deserves what happens.”
God help her, she could almost hate Thorolf for forcing her to choose between them. If she ran out of here now, no one would stop her, but she would be denying her friends their chance for freedom, and there was no guarantee they would ever have another chance. But if she stayed…if she stayed, Royce could very well die.
Thorolf divined some of her thoughts, probably from her anguished expression. He loosened the grip on her hand which had kept her by his side. He was making her choose, leaving the decision wholly with her. But softly he said, “We will not kill him, Kristen. That would serve no purpose.”
His words made no difference. The choice was no longer hers, for Royce’s patience had run out. Instead of closing the door and forcing her out in some other way, his arrogance—his cursed, foolish arrogance—brought him forward. It was as if he walked in his own hall, with only his trusted servants surrounding him. That was how relaxed and at ease he was as he closed the distance between them.
Ohthere obviously did not believe this could happen. He had waited to see what Royce would do, but now that he had done the unlikely, Ohthere stood there doubting his own eyes. Thorolf must also have doubts now, for he rose, pulling Kristen up with him, his ex
pression much less confident. Yet she felt the tension in his hand, still holding hers. He was still going to go through with it and try to overpower Royce. And she could not warn Royce, for that would only make it happen sooner, now that he was in the midst of them.
Vikings were by nature a superstitious lot. For men who would not step foot on a ship that they knew inside and out without making a sacrifice to their gods first, Royce’s boldness, which bordered on sheer madness, had to unnerve them. It allowed him to walk through them without a single man moving to stop him. He had done it before and they had not believed it then, even with his guards standing about with arrows at the ready. But now, alone, with his sword still in his scabbard, with his hands empty…
He reached Kristen and Thorolf, stopping to stand in front of them. Thorolf released her hand. She expected to feel Royce’s hand next, his long fingers curling about her wrist to drag her outside. His expression was nearly bland, yet she knew he had to be in the grips of a terrible rage to do what he had done.
She was past revealing emotion herself, her stomach tied up in knots, her nerves gone dead, numb, waiting…waiting.
Royce’s hand shot out, but it was Thorolf he grabbed. In a move that was so swift it was almost a blur before her eyes, Royce was behind Thorolf and had the prisoner’s neck twisted at an odd angle inside the arm he had circled round it, his other hand braced against the Viking’s head. It would take no more than a second to give the twist that would break Thorolf’s neck.
“Royce—” she began.
He cut her short, without looking at her, his tone, to her astonishment, dry. “Mayhap now you will leave, wench?”
Thorolf made a sound in his throat that drew her eyes
worriedly to him, but what she saw made her emotions come back to life with a vengeance. He was choking on his own laughter! God’s teeth! If he could think it was funny that his own plan had been turned around and used against him…
She gave the two men her back and stomped over to Ohthere. “Do you let him go, or do you let him kill Thorolf? Thorolf might think it amusing to find himself outwitted, but the Saxon does not share his humor. He
will
kill him.”
“So I see,” Ohthere replied, and then he too somehow found it amusing. With a grin he added, “The Saxon will leave, with no help from us, I think. Thor’ s teeth, he is ever a source of entertainment, that one. Let us be amused a bit more to see how he does it. Go on, child, take yourself out of here. I am sure he will follow after you.”
He gave her a hug before he let her go, for it was unlikely she would be allowed to see them again after this incident, and they both knew it. Then he pushed her toward the door. She went, getting farewells and whacks on her bottom as she passed the others, just as she used to at home. Were they all mad to see the humor in what had happened, instead of nurturing the disappointment?
Well, while they were all laughing about this later, she would be dealing with Royce, and she had every reason to believe it would not be pleasant. She wasn’t going to stand around and wait for his anger to wash over her. He had told her to leave. She did, making her own way back to the hall.
“
I
wonder, if I hide under this table, will he notice me?”
Eda gave Kristen a sharp look. “What kind of question is that, wench?”
“A whimsical one,” Kristen retorted as she plopped down on a stool.
After such heart-stopping suspense, she had a right to be irritable now, but that was not why she was. She did not like being blamed for something that was not of her doing, so in defense she was in the proper mood to face Royce’s fury. She would rather avoid it. She did in fact wish there were someplace she could hide for a while, just until he calmed down. But there was not, not in his hall.
“You came back alone?” Eda broke into her thoughts. “Where is Lord Royce?”
Kristen waved a hand dismissively. “There was some minor trouble with his prisoners. He will be along directly.”
He was, just then, and his eyes lit on her from across the hall. But apparently he was not ready to deal with her, for his look was only brief, and he crossed to his empty chair at the long table, not to her.
So, he would return to his drinking and entertainments, as if he had not just come close to losing his life. Why did that irritate her even more?
“Do I sleep with you again, Eda?”
“You know you do not. You saw Lord Averill and his family leave today.”
“Aye, but I would prefer to sleep with you.”
“Do you? When yestereve you grumbled because you had lost your soft bed?”
“I did not grumble!” Kristen snapped.
“Oh, ho, what has you in such a grouch?”
That did not deserve an answer. “Why did he come after me, Eda? I was not gone so long.”
To that Eda shrugged. “He saw Uland come in and make his rounds with some story that had him excited. Milord sent Edrea to find out what. The fool boy thought it amazing that you should be greeted by those Vikings of yours like a long-lost sister, and that you would probably not have a bone uncrushed after being passed around and hugged by all those giants.”
“
That
made him come after me?”
“Nay, he went on to eat. But I watched him.” Eda chuckled here. “And he watched the door, waiting for your return. I suppose at last he decided you
were
gone too long.”
And Kristen supposed that at that moment, Royce was not willing to let the King see his anger. But she had little doubt that she would feel it later. He would not let this incident pass unpunished, as he had her attempted escape.
She glanced his way, but could not see him, with Alden sitting this side of him and blocking him from her view. Alfred was on Royce’s other side, and she could not see the King, either, from where she sat.
Edrea came next to Kristen, setting down a wooden tray on the table. All that remained on it were a few bread crumbs.
