Elene’s mouth dropped open. ‘You agree with me?’
‘It saves apologising to Cedric.’ Ansithe wrinkled her nose. ‘Besides, I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more to do it properly. Don’t you agree, Cynehild, the insurmountable obstacle has been breached?’
Cynehild shrugged. ‘It seems as though you have a very good scheme.’
Elene took Wulfgar and danced about the room.
‘I will obtain the brooches,’ Ansithe said before Cynehild started issuing orders.
Elene did a twirl which made Wulfgar shout with laughter. ‘Ansithe has won over their leader. He admires her.’
Cynehild grunted.
‘It’s true—he thinks her beautiful.’
‘He respects my archery skill which is different.’ Ansithe concentrated on the rushes and hoped her sisters would miss her burning cheeks. However, Elene nudged Cynehild and they both burst out laughing. ‘What is wrong with that?’
‘Nothing, Ansithe. Your archery skill must indeed be what he admires about you,’ Cynehild said drily.
‘You two are impossible.’ Ansithe retreated from the room with as much dignity as she could muster.
* * *
The opportunities to escape were slipping through his fingers as surely as the dirt slipped through the brooch Moir was using as a makeshift shovel. Neither Palni nor Bjartr would be fit enough to climb through the holes in the roof and it was only a matter of time before that Mercian lord returned with an improved offer or, far worse, the Valkyrie sent word to Guthmann. Remaining in this place was no longer an option.
‘Can we do it? Release the stones, wriggle through the gap and steal some horses?’ Palni went over the gist of the plan in a hoarse whisper. ‘I don’t know how far I can walk on this leg. It seems to be swelling even more.’
Moir knew the plan had far too many holes, but it was their best hope. ‘We will obtain the horses. I heard them snuffling last night. Ideally, we’ll find more than three, but if it has to be only one with both you and Bjartr riding while we walk, so be it.’
‘How long do we have? It will take at least a day to dig our way out and that is assuming they fail to notice what we are doing.’
‘I have to try. I refuse to give up. I refuse to accept any member of this felag giving up.’
‘You mean like...’ Palni jerked his thumb towards where Bjartr lay curled up in a small ball. Bjartr had consumed the lion’s share of the gruel this morning and then collapsed down into apathy.
‘He’s been injured.’
‘You are being too soft on him. He needs to grow up, if he wants to lead a felag properly.’ Palni absently rubbed his bandage. ‘Once we are free, how are we going to make our way back to camp? We remain guideless, thanks in no small measure to him.’
‘Find Watling Street and follow it.’ Moir pushed his brooch in. The pin buckled. He cursed under his breath. He’d been fond of that brooch. ‘One step at a time. Freedom first.’
‘Without weapons.’
The stone inched forward. Moir smiled. When his Valkyrie came to check on them tomorrow morning, they would be gone. He sympathised with her plight regarding her family, but his first duty was to his men and his jaarl.
‘Someone comes,’ Hafual, who kept watch through a crack in the door, warned.
Moir rapidly rose and refastened his cloak. He moved so that his bulk would block any casual glance into their prison.
The door swung open. The Valkyrie with her hair arranged in a crown of braids stood like an avenging fury. Behind her the sky blackened. He heard the faint rumble of Thor hitting the clouds with his hammer and tossing lightning bolts. He forced his breathing to be steady. She could not know about their scheme.
‘Is this a good time for a social call? Thor appears to be losing his temper at Loki over something.’
Her brow knitted in confusion. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I refer to the thunderstorm—in my world thunder is Thor striking his hammer.’
‘Are your men well?’
‘They are recovering.’ Moir kept his gaze studiously from the stone at the back of the byre. This storm was his best chance to get the escape preparations complete, ready for the time when they could go. And keeping his men together would ensure that, when the opportunity struck, he could take full advantage of it. Bjartr and Palni were recovering, he knew that in his heart. ‘If I start fearing for them, I will let you know.’
The thunder rumbled again and still she stood there with a quizzical expression on her face. Moir frowned. ‘Is there anything else we can help you with, my lady Valkyrie?’
She held out a slender hand, one which seemed far too fragile to have wielded that bow and arrow with such deadly efficiency. ‘I require your brooches.’
‘Our brooches?’ Moir’s mind raced. He had figured they would have more time before Guthmann arrived. Had he miscalculated? Had the Mercian lord returned?
‘You stated that they would help prove your identity. You wanted to take them to your jaarl.’
He motioned to his men to remain where they were. There was no point in making a break for freedom unless all hope was lost and there was no other way to survive. ‘Yes, I wanted to take them myself. My jaarl will know them.’
‘But your jaarl will know them without you being there to tell him?’
Moir clenched his teeth. ‘True, but—’
‘Either a yes or no.’
‘Has the Mercian lord returned, offering you more money for us?’
The Valkyrie blinked twice. ‘Cedric? He seeks to exploit the situation to his advantage. He will return soon, but he hasn’t so far.’
‘Then why the sudden urgency? Has Guthmann sent another messenger?’ Moir’s brain raced. They could wait until the cover of darkness, then he could carry Palni on his back. The others could support Bjartr. He didn’t want to, but it was better than being sheep led to the slaughter. The gods had truly abandoned them.
‘I am sending my younger sister and steward to court.’ She pressed her hands together, but not before Moir noticed a slight tremor. ‘Your weapons and your brooches will prove your identity. Elene can hire guards from the new Mercian King who will then escort you back to court. A prisoner exchange, I believe it is called.’
Moir revised his opinion on their luck. The gods had smiled on them finally. Perhaps Thor with his thunder was signalling his approval. Perhaps his ordeal was about to end and he could finally regain his family’s honour, the honour his father had thrown away when he’d abandoned his men all those years ago. He frowned and silenced the hope.
Right now, all he knew was that Lady Ansithe was a woman who would listen and make up her own mind. ‘What swayed you?’
‘Guthmann cut off Leofwine’s finger when he could have simply taken the ring off it and sent it. He is even likely to say that you are worthless just to be contrary.’
‘He could do.’
‘I had to consider it. And who my true opponent is.’
He gestured to the men. They unfastened their brooches and dropped them into a pile one by one.
He carefully undid Palni’s, wiped the dirt from it and put on the top of the pile, alongside his. She stooped to pick them up.
‘And your men? Are they truly improving? I could examine them again.’
‘There is little need for you to do so, Lady Ansithe.’
‘Suddenly I am a lady and treated with respect instead of being a Valkyrie.’ Her hands trembled again as she turned to go. One of the brooches fell and Moir deftly caught it.
‘You need to take all of them.’ He placed it back in her warm palm. A pulse of recognition and heat raced up his arm, making his breath catch. Up close like this, he could see the light sprinkling of freckles across Lady Ansithe’s nose and the way her mouth curved like a bow. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to re
ach out and touch a freckle.
‘That is all,’ she said, breaking the spell. He relaxed his arm. ‘I presume my sister should mention a specific jaarl when she speaks to the King. One other than Guthmann, I mean.’
‘The jaarl Andvarr is Bjartr’s father. Bjartr is his only child.’
Ansithe blinked twice. She had not fully realised how valuable her hostages were. She tightened her grip on the brooches. ‘You weren’t going to tell me that.’
‘I told you when it became necessary.’
She peered around his bulk at the youth who lay curled up on the ground. His clothes were finer as she had noted when she’d attended to him. She wondered that she had not considered it before—the possibility that Moir was escorting someone of standing. His taking charge of the men so late in the day finally made sense. ‘His parentage explains many things.’
‘Have you heard of my jaarl? He is the man responsible for winning the Battle of Ashdown.’
‘I thought it was won by a cousin of the Northman’s King.’
‘Just so. The cousin is my jaarl.’ He shrugged. ‘Guthmann and Andvarr are allies rather than friends. In my experience, Guthmann constantly seeks a way to gain the upper hand, but it will go worse for the Mercians if he is successful.’
Ansithe nodded, understanding what he was saying and why he’d sought until now to keep the boy’s identity safe. ‘How would he treat you?’
‘Me?’ The large Northman gave half a smile. ‘Guthmann has sworn to kill me. However, if it is a fair fight, I believe I will emerge the victor.’
‘Any particular reason why he has taken against you?’
‘Moir Mimirson stopped Guthmann and his best warrior from raping a Mercian lady. He “interfered with their fun” as the jaarl Guthmann put it. He then refused to make an apology to Guthmann Bloodaxe, Lady Valkyrie,’ the man with a mangled leg called out. ‘Our jaarl considered it best if Moir made himself scarce for a little while.’
Moir glared at the warrior who shrugged. ‘The Lady Ansithe did not require the precise detail of my quarrel with Guthmann.’
His friend laughed. ‘You simply resent that Andvarr forbade you from formally challenging him as you had planned to do over such a trivial matter.’
‘It may have been trivial to you, but not to the woman involved, I assure you.’
‘What happened to the woman?’ Ansithe asked.
Moir smiled. ‘I sent her back to her husband. She went willingly enough.’
‘The rumours said that she clung to you and implored you to kiss her,’ his friend interjected slyly.
‘Believing every rumour is not good for your health, Palni. But the fact remains, she returned to her husband.’
‘Do you remember her name, Moir?’ Palni teased.
‘Her name has no meaning here.’ A muscle in Moir’s jaw jumped. ‘The lady in question was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I did what I had to do, what I like to think any decent man would do. And in any fair fight, I stand a chance of winning.’
Ansithe tightened her grip on the brooches. One pricked her palm. A fair fight. Something which he would not have had if she’d sent him to Guthmann. And his words about the woman he’d rescued were a reminder that others found him attractive. ‘And what did your wife think of that?’
The others laughed.
‘Moir Mimirson is wedded to war, Lady Valkyrie. Always has been. Always will be,’ Palni said in a carrying voice. ‘It is the way of the world.’
Moir gave the man another stern glance before bowing to her. ‘I’m not married, my lady, and have no plans to be.’
She took a step backwards and stumbled slightly. He leant forward, so their breath interlaced. Ansithe was suddenly aware of how long his legs were and the strength of his fingers. She had never seen such fine hands before. She wondered what they would feel like against her skin. She sucked her breath in at the brazenness of her thoughts. He had just confirmed that women panted after him, so much so that one had brazenly asked him to kiss her.
‘Trust is the best thing which could happen between us.’ The words were whispered with an intensity which made her breath catch.
Her mouth tingled as if he had touched it with his lips. His gaze caught and held hers. Everything went quiet and she seemed to be held in suspension.
She looked down at the flagstones on the floor, aware that her cheeks flamed. He had done it on purpose. He probably took pleasure in making her uncomfortable and off balance.
‘Thank you for being cooperative.’ Her voice was breathless and higher than normal. She cleared her throat. ‘It makes my task easier.’
A dimple tugged at the corner of his mouth, making his countenance become impossibly handsome. ‘My pleasure.’
She left with her feet tripping over each other in her haste. The brooches clanked dreadfully and she could feel all their eyes watching her like wolves eyed a deer. Or maybe just like men who’d thought they were doomed to die being offered a chance of life.
* * *
‘Did you obtain the brooches without a struggle, my lady?’ Ecgbert, her father’s steward, asked from where he lounged just inside the hall. His weasel-like features were more contorted than ever as he attempted an ingratiating smile.
Ansithe pasted on a smile as fake as his own and shook the raindrops from her cloak. She had already guessed that she’d find him inside. He always seemed to find a reason why going out in a storm was the wrong thing to do, why any repairs to the estate should wait until it passed.
‘They are all here. The leader of the Northmen was happy to give them to me.’
Ecgbert pressed both his hands together and made a calculatingly ostentatious bow. ‘Perhaps it would be best if Lord Cedric examined them before taking them to court. I have been speaking of this to your sisters. I strongly advise caution in this matter, my lady. I am certain your father would approve.’
Ansithe scowled. There was little doubt in her mind who had informed Cedric that they had prisoners in the first place. ‘Remind me. Whom do you serve?’
The steward blinked several times. ‘Your father, my lady.’
‘Serving my father means accompanying my sister while she takes these brooches to the Mercian King for the attention of the jaarl Andvarr. You will remain with her while she arranges for the guards.’
‘And you think this will give your family a better price than from Lord Cedric?’
‘For the jaarl Andvarr’s only child? I would trust and pray so.’
Ecgbert’s eyes bulged. ‘You captured someone of rank?’
‘I hardly need tell a loyal member of this household what a relief it is to hold such an important prisoner and how imperative it is that we keep his identity a secret until the time is right to use it.’
Ecgbert stroked his chin. ‘You bring up a point I had failed to consider before.’
‘Shall I find someone else to accompany my sister?’
Ecgbert drew in his breath. ‘I have always been your father’s man, my lady. We will go as swiftly as possible—your sister and I.’
Ansithe heaved a sigh of relief. Ecgbert was not going to cause any more trouble. And she would succeed in her mission to free her father and her sister’s husband. ‘Good.’
Chapter Five
Elene made her horse paw the ground, giving a whoop of excitement when she was ready to set out for court. Ecgbert’s sour expression showed his views on the trip. He kept muttering dire predictions, including that the Northmen would try to escape while they were away. Instead of berating him about it, even Cynehild laughed, telling him that he was worse than an old woman and to enjoy the adventure.
Ansithe watched them until even the tiny sprays of dust their horses’ hooves kicked up had long settled. Neither of them turned back to look at her.
She knew the reasons for her staying behind were solid on
es, but it didn’t make it any easier to see her younger sister depart on an adventure she would have liked to go on herself. She sighed. Standing there, she knew wishing solved little. She had to keep busy and ensure the household ran smoothly until her father’s inevitable return.
She wanted to see the pride in his face when he finally understood all that she had accomplished. She had to hope that Cynehild did not attempt any more of her so-called improvements during that time or otherwise her father would heap the praise completely on Cynehild and ignore her own contribution. He’d done that often enough after her mother died. She frowned, hating the slightly disloyal thought.
‘It is fine, Owain,’ she said, going back to the byre after she had gathered her bow and a quiver full of new arrows. ‘I will take this watch. You have been here long enough. The cows need tending to.’
‘But the Northmen might escape if I don’t keep guard. I swear one of the stones at the back moved yesterday—just before the thunderstorm.’ Owain tapped the side of his nose in a knowing manner. ‘They are up to something, my lady. I can feel it in my water.’
‘Owain, be about your business.’
Owain looked as though he wanted to object and say more, but appeared to think better of it and ran off.
She sat down outside the byre, placing her bow and quiver on her lap. The shadows were lengthening, but it would be a good while yet before the sun set. She started to mull over all the things she needed to have done before Elene returned with guards and, if God was kind, her father and brother-in-law.
* * *
‘Can anyone help us?’ Moir’s voice resounded urgently through the byre’s walls and interrupted her thoughts. ‘We need help!’
A Deal With Her Rebel Viking (HQR Historical) Page 6
