by Bobbi Smith
Dynna quickly unwrapped the package. She felt a surge of hope as she stared down at the assortment of villagers’ clothes.
“You did it!” she breathed in excitement and relief. “We will go this very night!”
“You are sure you want to do this?”
“I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Dynna affirmed, the memory of Edmund’s kiss fueling her need to flee.
“We can leave the tower the way the servants do. If luck is on our side—”
“No, not luck—God. If God is on our side, we will be blessed and safely make our escape,” she corrected.
They shared a long look of mutual understanding, then set about finalizing their plans.
While Dynna hated every minute she was forced to spend with Lord Alfrick and Sir Edmund at the evening meal, on this particular night the dinner seemed more interminable than ever. Once again, seated beside Edmund, Dynna tried to ignore the heat of his gaze upon her and the occasional “accidental” touch of his hand upon hers.
As had happened every night of late, the conversation was centered on the threat of the Viking attack. The more Edmund talked about war, the less attention he paid to her, and that pleased Dynna immensely. When they spoke of battles and weapons, his manner became excited and his eyes glowed with an inner fervor. While he had made it plain that he desired her, she knew that to him she was only an object to be won, like a battle. Once claimed, he would not stop until he had dominated her completely, and once he had conquered her spirit, she would be set aside, another trophy to be displayed.
The knowledge of what the future held for her as his wife only made waiting the few short hours to the time of her planned escape all the more difficult. Dynna had to keep her eagerness to be done with the meal from showing. Each minute seemed an eternity until the hour came for her to retire.
When Sir Edmund moved off to discuss strategies with Sir Thomas, Dynna rose to return to her bedchamber. She had hoped to make her exit unnoticed, but to her dismay, Edmund looked up just as she was leaving the table. He saw that Dynna was leaving, and he quickly excused himself from the men and moved to intercept her.
Two
“Retiring already?” Sir Edmund asked as he closed on Dynna like a hunter on its prey.
“I am a bit tired.” She hoped she sounded convincingly weary.
“Please, allow me to escort you to your room.” He took her arm with possessive familiarity.
Dynna’s flesh crawled where he touched her, but she did not jerk away. “There really is no need.”
Edmund bent his head toward her in an intimate gesture as he led her to the stone stairs. “One night very soon, my sweet, we will be mounting these steps together, and when we reach your room we will be seeking more than just sleep.”
“Edmund, it is wicked for you to say such things to me. I have told you that my heart and my love still belong to Warren. Your brother is my husband and—”
“Was your husband!” he snarled, sick of hearing about her feelings for his older brother. Warren had been such a paragon of virtue that living in his shadow had been a source of constant torment for Edmund. He was finally rid of Warren, and he didn’t miss him. In fact, he was enjoying his absence tremendously. His brother’s untimely demise had left him heir to his father’s lands, and he was about to lay claim to both his brother’s widow and her dowry. Yes, he was truly enjoying life now.
“Warren will always live in my heart.”
“You speak nonsense. You are free to marry again, and you will, Dynna. You will marry me . . . and soon!”
Dynna stiffened.
He felt her resistance and tightened his hold on her. “Do not fight me. It will do you no good.”
They had reached her chamber as he spoke, and he stopped outside the door.
“You should realize, sweet Dynna, that I always get what I want.”
“Good night, Edmund.” Dynna’s words were cold as she reached out to open the door.
Her curt tone fired his temper, and he grabbed her hand. He had just started to drag her back into his arms when suddenly the door opened from the inside.
“Lady Dynna? Is that you, my lady?” Matilda asked in a perfectly timed rescue.
“Yes, it is I, Matilda.” She took advantage of Edmund’s surprise at being interrupted and fled into the shelter of her room. “Good night, Edmund.”
With a great show of bravery she shut the door firmly in his face.
Edmund stared at the closed portal, tom between rage and reluctant admiration for her daring. He wanted to smash the door in and take her right then and there in front of her arrogant servant. Her continued defiance stirred his blood as no other woman ever had. Dynna was a fine-looking female, and he greatly anticipated having her beneath him in his bed. He smiled at the thought as he started back down to the hall to rejoin the men.
“He’s gone, my lady!” Matilda whispered, her ear to the door as she listened to his receding footsteps.
“Thank God! As angry as he was, I was worried he might try to break down the door.”
“But he did not.”
“You are right. We are safe for now. Let us get ready!” Dynna began her transformation from royal lady to peasant woman.
“The hardest part will be getting through the Great Hall, but within another hour or so, most of the men will either be asleep or well on their way to becoming sotted. With luck we will not be noticed, and then once we are out of the tower, it should be simple enough. Of course, the whole trek would go faster if we had horses.”
“There are no mounts we dare take,” Dynna pointed out. “They would be missed immediately. It will be wiser to travel on foot; we will be less likely to be noticed that way. We can pass through the villages, and no one will think anything unusual about the presence of two peasants.”
“How long do you suppose it will take to reach your parents’ home?” Matilda was pleased to be going back.
“I think we can make the journey within two weeks. That is, if everything goes as planned.”
“It will be fine,” Matilda assured her, then held up a small sack. “I have some bread and cheese. We will not go hungry.”
Matilda helped Dynna don the plain clothing. She laid aside her fine woolen gunna and tunic and helped her into the crudely made, rough brown linen garment so common to the village women. When Dynna was finally dressed, Matilda stood for a moment in total silence, staring at her. Even wearing these poorest of clothes, there was no hiding her regal beauty or her elegant bearing. She was going to have to instruct her how to act like a peasant.
“How do I look?” Dynna asked, having not yet checked her appearance in the mirror.
“You are dressed like a villager, but you must not stand so straight.”
“Why?”
“Your manner is too elegant for one of the lower class, my lady. If you are to pass for a serving wench, you must keep your eyes downcast and mumble your words a little. And when you walk you need to slump more. Anyone who even caught a glimpse of you standing as you are now would know you’re no ordinary villager.”
“You must show me everything I need to know. Our escape depends on it. I cannot risk making any mistakes.”
“Yes, my . . .”
“Yes, ‘my’ what?” Dynna challenged.
“Yes, madam.”
“That is better. A slip of the tongue could betray us, just as easily as my own manner. We have to be careful.”
After Matilda quickly showed her how to move as if she had the weight of the world upon her shoulders, Dynna moved to the mirror. She did indeed look very different in the dark, unadorned tunic, and shoes of plain, soft leather. Still, her hair was loose and fell freely about her shoulders in a thick tumble of soft ebony curls.
“We must braid my hair and pin it up. I don’t want to take any chance of being recognized.”
Matilda agreed and braided the lustrous tresses into a single plait.
“Soon it will be late enough so we can
finally leave,” Dynna said.
“I am ready,” the loyal maid responded.
Dynna went to the narrow window and stared out for the last time at the night-shrouded countryside that had been her home for two years. She thought of Warren and the love they had shared. At his side, she had felt an affinity for the land and its people, but now, all she felt was loneliness. It would be good to go back to her real home, to a place where she was loved for who she was and not merely wanted for the riches of her dowry.
The thought of returning to her parents made her smile gently. Any hardship she might endure in these next days would be worth it to be safely back with them again.
Dynna smiled at her maid as she took the cloak Matilda was holding out to her. She drew the hood up and then pulled it low over her face to hide her features from any who might look her way. Matilda did the same with her own. Dynna slipped her small jeweled dagger into her belt; after taking one last look around the chamber, she was ready.
The two women crept quietly from the room and made their way cautiously down the stairs. Dynna was careful to keep her eyes downcast and to walk as if she’d worked a hard day of physical labor.
There was still some activity in the Great Hall, and the fear of discovery struck terror in them both as they moved through the torch-lit room. The deep rumble of the men’s voices around them magnified their terror. It was all they could do not to charge headlong out of the place. When at last they had crossed the hall and slipped across the drawbridge, unnoticed by the few men who stood guard, their hearts were pounding.
Staying close together, Dynna and Matilda moved down the road toward the village. The darkness that swallowed them was a welcoming, safe embrace.
As the eastern horizon brightened, Brage roused his men and ordered the longships in to the shore. The shallow draft of the boats allowed them easy access, and the oars were put in to help guide them.
As the ships landed silently and unseen on foreign soil, Brage turned to Ulf. “Take Seger and Neils,” he directed, “they both speak some of the Saxon language as you do, and see what awaits us. We should be just an hour’s march to the tower. Check the area and report if we’re going to meet any resistance.”
Ulf called to the other two men, then strapped on his sword, donned his helmet and picked up his battle-ax. He always prepared himself for the worst; that way he was never taken by surprise. Ulf did not like surprises.
Seger and Neils hurriedly prepared to accompany him. After fetching their weapons and donning their helmets, too, they joined Ulf on shore. The three headed inland to scout the area.
While they were gone, Brage and the rest of his nearly 150 warriors prepared for battle. They worked in silence, not wanting anyone to know they were there. Brage pulled his padded leather vest on over his wool tunic and trousers. He fastened his scabbard, enjoying the weight of the sword at his side. After putting on his helmet, he picked up his shield with the crest of the Black Hawk emblazoned on it and left the ship to wait on the shore for the others.
As the Vikings finished preparing for the fight to come, they took up their weapons and shields and went to join their leader. The bigger, stronger men carried battle-axes. Their massive strength would enable them to cut their way through the enemy resistance. Others, less endowed, were armed with bows and arrows; still others carried spears and swords. Together, they were a formidable force. All were committed to complete victory and to the spoils of war.
Brage was proud of his men. He knew they would fight well in the coming attack. The runes’ prophecy had said he would claim a treasure more precious than any he’d ever won before, and he was eagerly looking forward to it.
As they waited for Ulf, Seger, and Neils to return, the Norsemen offered up prayers to Odin asking for his help in the coming battle. They were strong and confident, accustomed to victory through power and might, and untouched as yet by the terrible cunning of deceit and betrayal.
Lady Dynna and Matilda had spoken but little since fleeing from the tower the night before. They kept their cloaks clutched protectively around them as they moved along the road until they came to the outskirts of the village. Determined to circle around the small town, they headed down a path in the woods, Matilda in the lead. There was little celestial light to help them, but the maid knew the way. They made it past the village and then returned to the road.
They walked through the night, never stopping, wanting to put as much distance between themselves and the tower as they could. Dynna did not want to be anywhere near when the discovery was made that she was missing.
Near dawn they sought refuge in a thick grove of trees and took time to eat. The two women had no doubt that within the next few hours, Sir Edmund would learn that Dynna had run away and would begin searching for her. If they could elude him and his men for the next twenty-four hours, they had a good chance of making it all the way to the safe haven of her parents’ protection.
They settled in, meaning to rest for a while; neither Dynna nor Matilda planned to fall asleep. They expected only to nap for a minute or two, but when they closed their eyes their energy drained away, leaving them exhausted. They slept.
Ulf, Seger, and Neils stayed within sight of one another as they explored the area for Brage. As he topped a low rise, Ulf caught a glimpse of some slight movement in a grove of trees in the distance. He silently signaled his two companions to move in that direction and then approached the hiding place with his battle-ax at ready.
“Matilda! Wake up!” Dynna commanded as she opened her eyes and saw that it was fully mom. “We must have . . .”
She never finished her sentence. She looked up to find the most hulking, ferocious-looking man she had ever seen standing at the edge of the trees. No Saxon looked like this!
“Matilda!” she gasped, grabbing her maid’s arm.
Matilda jerked upright, and at her first sight of a Viking she let out a scream.
Ulf was silently cursing his luck at being found out before he could get any closer to them. He started forward, determined to trap them before they could get away.
“Run!” Dynna urged frantically as he came toward them.
The two women scrambled to their feet and fled in different directions.
Ulf swore loudly as they managed to elude him. Forced to give chase, he bellowed orders to Seger and Neils, telling them to circle around and trap the pair. They could not be allowed to escape and alert others.
Moving with a speed unusual for a man his size, Ulf gave chase. Neils was in a good position to trap Matilda, and the servant let out a cry of abject terror as his massive arm snared her around the waist. She was slammed back up against the iron width of his chest.
“I got one of them!” Neils called out to Ulf and Seger.
“Let me go!” Matilda shrieked, twisting and fighting to be free of his hold.
He laughed at her futile resistance. Against his strength she was little more than a pesky annoyance. Holding his prize, he watched as Ulf and Seger closed in on the other woman.
“Seger!” Ulf called out. “She ran into the brush.”
Dynna knew it was the Nordic language she was hearing, having learned it from a servant in her parents’ home, and she knew at least one of them was chasing her. She dove even deeper into the thicket of spiny bushes. Like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s sight, she remained totally silent and still in the depths of her hiding place.
The rustle of the brush close by set her nerves on edge as she fought to keep her fear under control. The footsteps moving ever nearer were heavy and intimidating, and she had to clench her hands into fists to contain her terror.
“She is in here somewhere . . .” Ulf growled as he searched through the thorny thicket. “I will see that she pays for the trouble she’s causing me!”
Hearing his voice so close filled Dynna with panic. Her hand closed on the jeweled dagger at her waist. Finally, when it seemed the Viking was right on top of her, Dynna could stand the tension no longer. She tore f
rom her hiding place like a game bird flushed from its nest. The briars tore at her, scratching her flesh and snagging her clothes, but she did not care. She ran blindly, seeking freedom even as she knew it was hopeless.
“I’ve got her!” Ulf called as he followed his frightened quarry. Undaunted by the thorns and brush, he caught her easily.
Dynna cried out in outrage as he grabbed her and yanked her back to him. He turned her forcefully around so he could get a good look at her.
Dynna stared up at her captor and went cold with terror. He looked savage and ferocious. The helmet he wore had a guard for his eyes and nose and kept his face largely hidden. His beard was wild and untamed, and a long, ugly scar marred his cheek. Every terrible thing she had ever heard about the Vikings came back to her. She was sure she was going to die!
“And a pretty one she is!” Ulf shouted back to the others, grinning.
The grin horrified her, and she struggled even more wildly against him. He had little patience with her and gave her a fierce shake.
“Be still, woman!” he ordered in her language.
Dynna was not about to give up so easily. The dagger was still in her hand, and knowing this might be her only chance to save herself, she struck out at her attacker. She heard him grunt in pain as she made contact with his arm, and she felt a moment of pride at her effort. The moment was immediately lost, though as he knocked the weapon from her grasp in a numbing blow.
“You little fool . . .” Ulf snarled, again in her own tongue as he held her in a bruising grip.
Dynna saw the murderous expression on his face and renewed her desperate efforts to break free. It proved no use, however. His hands on her were like bands of iron. There would be no breaking away from him. In that moment, she realized she faced her doom.
“Ah, she is sweet looking,” Seger remarked as he caught up with him.
