He froze. He wanted to ask her if she’d wait for him until he could return to her, until he could make his world safe for her. Until he could ensure Guthmann would not carry out his threat and harm any woman he cared about. With her father and brother-in-law in Guthmann’s custody, he could not take the risk.
Pushing the thoughts away and forcing himself to concentrate on the present, he kissed the tip of her nose. Her eyes instantly flew open.
‘Was I asleep?’
‘Adorably so.’ He cupped her face between his hands. ‘If I can, I will find her.’
‘We both will.’
He gave her a significant look. ‘I intend on keeping you safe.’
‘I know it is dangerous, Moir, but I have to go.’
‘Don’t you trust me to return to you?’
She gathered her knees to her chest. ‘I trust you to return if that is what you are asking. You are an honourable man. I’m willing to say my beliefs about Northmen were wrong where you are concerned. You keep your promises.’
‘Did I ask you to remain behind?’ Her trust in this matter meant more to him than he could say. ‘I want you there. Your skill with the bow surpasses anything I’ve seen a Northman do.’
He kept quiet about wanting to spend more time with her.
She started to re-braid her hair, making her become the ever-efficient Lady Ansithe again, instead of his Kyrie. ‘It isn’t your choice. Elene is my sister. What she did was a brave thing. I have to wonder—if I’d gone, would the outcome have been different?’
‘Second-guessing your past is as profitless as dreaming about your future. Live in the present.’
‘Easy words to say, Moir, but hard to do in practice.’
‘I know,’ he admitted, wondering if she knew the words had been for his own benefit more than hers. He’d spent nearly a lifetime trying to live by them. ‘My father was a dreamer who never accomplished anything except being drunk and my mother always kept trying to work out where things had gone wrong. I discovered that living in the present works best.’
‘Your father was a dreamer?’
‘He is not important. He belongs to the unlamented past. In the end he lost all honour. His word was not even worth the spit it took to give it. I vowed on his grave to be different—I would keep my promises or die in the attempt. I need to show Andvarr that he was right to put his faith in me.’
‘Families are always important. They define who we are.’
‘You are wrong. We define how we behave. No one else.’ Moir ran a hand through his hair. Andvarr’s last words before he left—do not become weak like your father—resounded in his brain. She didn’t make him weak; she made him stronger. He put his hand against her cheek. She leant into it. ‘What we experienced today wasn’t a goodbye or an end, but a beginning. The present, Ansithe, and we don’t know how long it will last.’
* * *
After returning Moir to the byre and tiptoeing past the slumbering Owain, Ansithe opened the door to the hall with a steady hand. The slight creak resounded in the stillness. The fire had burnt down to embers.
‘Ansithe.’
Ansithe froze. Her mouth still throbbed from Moir’s fervent kisses. Cynehild was bound to notice. She steeled herself, ready for the recriminations. She refused to lie to her sister, but neither could she make promises that she refused to keep. ‘I didn’t see you there, Cynehild. I... I was making sure everything was ready for the morning. It took longer than I expected.’
Cynehild gestured to the bench with a weary smile. ‘Come sit with me. Who knows when I will get a chance to sit with one of my sisters again? I don’t bite. Before you say differently, may I remind you that was a long time ago when we were children. I was five and you were three and had just thrown my favourite doll on the fire.’
Ansithe went over and sat beside her. ‘I always have time to talk with my older sister.’
She was surprised that she meant it.
Cynehild gathered Ansithe’s hands in hers. ‘Do you think you can find Elene? Ecgbert has little sense of direction on a good day.’
‘I have every hope, particularly with Moir’s assistance.’
‘But from what Ecgbert said—those outlaws could have returned. The guards are injured. Elene is unprotected. I’ve been barely able to sleep. I could have gone to court in her place, you know. Maybe I should have.’
Ansithe firmed her jaw. ‘Elene is our sister. I will not abandon her. I will find her. Moir and I will deal with any outlaws. Together.’
‘You really believe that Northman will help us, not just escape as soon as you are in the forest?’
‘He is an honourable man, Cynehild, despite what Cedric implied.’
‘And if this is all a trap?’
‘What sort of trap?’ Ansithe willed Cynehild to think logically. ‘How could Moir do anything to plan ahead? Who could he contact? He would not abandon his best friend either. He cares about his men, even Bjartr.’
Cynehild covered Ansithe’s hand. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt. I have no wish to lose either sister.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I have eyes, Ansithe. I see the heated looks you and that Northman exchange when you think no one else is watching. How you look at him when he is directing his men. It reminds me of how I used to watch Leofwine before I knew how he felt about me. Out there, alone.’ Cynehild grabbed Ansithe’s hands. ‘Come back to me, Ansithe, whatever happens. Don’t run away with your Northman.’
Ansithe attempted to fill her lungs with life-giving air. ‘Are you accusing me of something? Do you think I am in thrall to him like Cedric claimed? I promised you would get Leofwine back. You will have him.’
Cynehild gripped Ansithe’s hands tight. ‘Accusing you? No. You may be reckless, but you know there are certain bridges not to be crossed. I trust you to do the right thing when the time comes. But keep your heart safe, Sister.’
‘I know the future and have no wish for it to change. Getting my family—our father and your Leofwine—back means everything to me. It is why we took the Northmen prisoner,’ Ansithe said around the lump in her throat. She knew she spoke at best a half-truth. Moir had already claimed her heart and he would take it with him when they parted.
Chapter Twelve
Ansithe looked back at the manor where Cynehild stood with Wulfgar, waving madly with a bright smile on her face. Her throat tightened. This might the last time she saw her sister or her home.
‘We will find Elene,’ she called back to Cynehild and Wulfgar. No answer. She took one final glance back, but they had gone back into the hall.
‘We will do our best. It is not an easy task, Ansithe,’ Moir said, keeping step beside her. ‘And it is better that Bjartr stays to look after Palni. Another hostage, in case the worst should happen.’
‘The worst isn’t going to happen,’ Ansithe said around a lump in her throat. ‘I refuse to believe that.’
‘The lad will be a hindrance. He sows discord,’ Moir said in an undertone. ‘Trust my judgement on this.’
Ansithe closed her eyes, suddenly understanding the unspoken message. Leaving Bjartr behind was Moir’s pledge that they would not escape no matter the circumstances. She appreciated it, but she knew deep down it was unnecessary—Moir was a man of his word. ‘I trust you.’
He gave a smile which lit her world. ‘Progress.’
Ansithe felt jumpy as if unseen eyes were watching her as they went deeper into the forest, following the track Ecgbert claimed was the correct one.
She matched her steps with Moir’s.
He paused and then nodded. ‘Then let us hope your steward is a better navigator than he was at keeping your lands well tended. These woods have not been worked for many years and appear easy to get lost in.’
‘I have my grandfather’s map, but this wood is not as he knew it.’
‘Who did the recent civil war benefit? The one between the Mercians? The ceorl or the ealdorman? Look around you, you can see how this forest has been abandoned. Where are the charcoal burners? The swineherds? The woodcutters? Trees this big take years to grow and they are hard to fell with simply a swing of an axe to be of much use. And it is not just this forest, but the woods all over Mercia which have become like this.’
Her heart thumped. She knew the importance of the underwood in providing the poles that they needed for building and how the forest had changed since she was a girl. And some of that change had happened because of disputes with the kingdoms closest to them—Hwicce and Wessex—not just because of the Heathen Horde or the civil war which preceded their arrival. They had simply accelerated the decline. ‘Everyone is sick of war except for a few.’
‘Good borders will make for good neighbours, yes?’
‘All I want is my family safe.’
She wanted much more than that, but confessing that to him was impossible.
‘Let’s not count on the future until it happens.’
‘All I should worry about is the present.’
‘Something like that.’ He put his hand on her shoulder. Warmth radiated out, comforting her. ‘First let’s find your sister and then the rest will follow.’
‘If your ransom is paid, what will you do?’ she asked, watching the path in front of them, rather than his face.
‘My ransom will be paid. I have left enough with my jaarl for that to happen. Provided whoever buys me thinks to ask.’
‘What will you do next?’
‘I never think beyond the next sunset, but maybe I’ve seen enough war. Maybe I will find some land to build on.’
Ansithe’s heart skipped a beat. With great difficulty she held back the words asking if he would need a companion and if he’d consider returning for her. They had different pathways and destinies to follow which had only crossed for a little while, she reminded her heart. ‘I can see you as a farmer. Maybe in that Iceland place you spoke about.’
His eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Thank you.’
In that heartbeat, she could also see him with a pretty wife and a gaggle of children crowding about his legs, listening to his stories. She had no doubt they’d ask about the time when he was captured by bees. She wondered if he’d ever tell them about her or even think of her—the woman he’d once considered had the soul of a Valkyrie.
‘Your eyes seem sad.’ His voice invited her to confide her thoughts. Confessing that one would lead to more complications. It would be easy to wish that she’d never kissed him, but that would imply regretting his touch, the way his hands felt as they roamed over her body or the taste of his mouth. She could never regret being with him in that way, but she could not hold back time either. With each step they took, she knew she was coming closer to their parting.
‘I miss my sister.’ She half-stumbled over a tree root. His fingers were there immediately, preventing her from falling. She gave a swift intake of breath as warm pulses of heat jolted up her arm. She jerked away. ‘I should have been the one to go. Elene isn’t like me.’
‘Changing the past is impossible and the future belongs to the gods. The present holds the possibilities.’
‘But you still dream of being a farmer? How is that living in the present?’
His barking laugh rang out, warming her down to her toes. Despite her resolutions, she liked him. Being around him made her day better. ‘I have only started to think about it since being with you.’
And when it came time for them to part? Would it make it any easier that it wasn’t her decision?
Ecgbert raised his hand. ‘We need to turn slightly here. I remember crashing through the brambles here.’
‘You said nothing about brambles earlier,’ Moir said.
The steward’s cheek flushed crimson. ‘I tried to forget them, but my arms are scratched, my lady.’
He held out his hands. His wrists bore several long angry gashes.
‘Before you went through the brambles, how did you find your way back?’
‘I followed the river. I planned to jump in if they appeared again.’
‘Then we shall do the same. There is a crossing a little way from here,’ Ansithe said. ‘No point in everyone getting scratches to match yours.’
Ecgbert’s mouth turned down. ‘I’d forgotten.’
‘But I hadn’t. I’ve spent years studying my grandfather’s map, Ecgbert. I know where the old roads go.’ She firmed her mouth. ‘I want to make good time. We have wasted enough as it is.’
‘Wait! Wait!’ Bjartr raced after them. He carried a stick and was waving wildly. His face was covered in sweat.
Moir swore loudly. Ansithe motioned for everyone to stop.
When he reached them, his chest heaved, as he put his hands on his knees.
‘What are you doing here?’ Moir asked, lowering his brows before the lad had a chance to say anything more. ‘I gave you orders to stay and look after Palni.’
‘I am coming with you.’ His bottom lip stuck out. ‘It is the goddess of my dream who has been kidnapped and you are going to fetch her back or die in the attempt. She saved my life and I’ve never thanked her. Not properly. I owe that woman a life debt. The Valkyrie’s sister agreed. She gave me a token to show Lady Ansithe that I come with her blessing. She’d rather have me out here looking than back there making a nuisance of myself at the manor. And I did save her son’s life.’
He held out the small wooden cross.
‘It is the cross Cynehild normally wears,’ Ansithe said. ‘It belonged to my grandmother. Cynehild did indeed send him.’
‘You can stay at the manor and keep it safe.’ Moir pointed back towards where they had come from. ‘Go. Lady Ansithe does not need you on this quest. She has plenty of other men who will be of far more use.’
Bjartr remained where he was standing. ‘No. I stay. I will be useful.’
‘What can you contribute? You have caused enough difficulties already.’
‘All my life everyone has been telling me—don’t do that, Bjartr, it is risky. Let someone else do it. My father does it and now you are starting to do it, too. That stops now. I don’t need anyone making excuses for me.’ He drew himself upright. ‘I start pulling my weight and take my place, not as the leader, but as the least important. You need warriors if you are going to rescue Lady Elene and I know how to fight. You saw to that, Moir, even if you only wanted me to use wooden swords. I am no longer a toddler following in your footsteps. I am nearly a man grown. You were fighting when you were my age. I should be as well.’
Moir stared at the boy, torn between annoyance and pride. ‘Your mother—’
‘My mother would want me to become a man. My father wants this as well,’ Bjartr said in a loud voice. ‘I lied yesterday—I went to the lake with the intention of drowning myself because I had disgraced everyone, but then I saw that little boy in trouble and knew I could do something to save him, but no one recognised it. Instead I was beaten for my trouble, but Lady Ansithe saw me for what I was and saved me. She treated me with dignity when no one else would. I want to help her and pledge my oath to her for saving my life. I explained this to Lady Cynehild and she listened. Why can’t you? Why can’t you see I can change? I want to be better because of Lady Ansithe.’
He stood tall, facing Moir. A faint breeze ruffled his hair, but there was a determination to his jaw Moir had not seen before. Moir touched his pendant—wasn’t that all he’d wanted to do once?
‘Not my decision,’ Moir said at last. ‘It’s Lady Ansithe who will make this choice. She leads this felag. I obey her orders.’
Ansithe looked at the youth. He had a pleading expression on his face. He had come on this journey of his own free will, wanting to help. She, too, knew what it felt like to be the one who had disgraced everyone. He deserved
another chance.
If she sent him back, she’d also have to send someone to accompany him and they’d lose even more precious time. And he’d lose whatever courage he’d gained in the night.
‘Will you obey me? Will you pledge on your sacred honour that you will not try to escape? That you will obey my orders to the best of your ability?’
‘Give me the opportunity to make amends, Lady Ansithe,’ he said, holding out his hands. There was a dignity in his face she hadn’t seen before. ‘Please. You have taught me about the power of forgiveness when you and your sister saved my life. You showed it to me when you argued with the priest so that you could save Palni. And when you cut me down and defied the Mercian lord. I will do all you ask and more.’
When faced with such pleading, how could she refuse? He did appear to want to help. Cynehild had given her endorsement. Sometimes, all it took was someone taking a chance for forgiveness to happen.
Ansithe held out her hand. ‘I welcome all who wish to help free my sister.’
His hand curled about hers. ‘You won’t regret it.’
‘She had better not,’ Moir growled. Ansithe gave him a quelling look.
* * *
Moir was pleased to see they made good progress on their journey after Bjartr joined them. He’d half-expected Ansithe or Bjartr to complain at the pace the way her steward kept doing, but Ansithe made no mention and whenever they stopped, she wanted to get going again before anyone else. Bjartr kept quiet.
The weasel-faced steward kept bleating on about how he wasn’t sure that he was up to the task if he couldn’t rest one more time. Moir’s feelings of distrust and unease grew.
* * *
‘How much further?’ Moir growled on the third day, fixing the steward with a dark gaze.
‘It is here. I told you I’d find it. It is what your countrymen did, not mine,’ the steward said, pointing to a glade where the grass was trampled down. Sweat poured down his face.
A sweet sickly stench hung in the air, the sort which hangs over battlefields. It was clear in a glance that something had indeed happened here. Moir’s stomach clenched.
A Deal with Her Rebel Viking Page 17
