Avelynn: The Edge of Faith

by Marissa Campbell

  “How so?”

  “You are not a hideous hag.”

  I raised my horn and drank to his compliment. “The charges are all lies.”

  “Of course they are. I am not a superstitious or gullible man. It is clear you have been played as a pawn in a greater game. I am more interested in the strategy and its development. What caused such wild rumors to become invented in the first place?”

  “I was betrothed to a man who wished to possess me for my land and title. Refusing him set off a chain of unfortunate events, resulting in my father’s and grandmother’s murders, my home and title being stripped, and my future stolen.”

  “What of your Viking?”

  Rhodri seemed to know a great deal about me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you know of it?”

  “He is a son of Ragnar Lothbrok, is he not?”

  I stiffened.

  “There is little point in keeping secrets from me. He is exiled. His own brothers have put a price on his head. Had I not agreed to the deal as is, I would have captured him myself.”

  “Does Sigy know this?”

  “It’s not secret knowledge. Sigy will turn him over to Halfdan once he plays whatever role she has cast for him.”

  If Alrik survived the conflict with Hyffaid, he would have to turn and face his brothers and whatever men they brought with them. We were both running out of time. Would Ivar join the conflict from Ireland? I wondered if Sigy knew the risks of such an alliance. Remembering Angharad’s warning, it was more likely that once the Vikings had what they wanted, they would turn their aggression on Wales.

  “What if Halfdan betrays Sigy?”

  “My army will be ready, should it come to that. I will not stop the Vikings from destroying Dyfed—a convenient happenstance should it arise. I will, however, keep them from my lands.” He motioned for a page, who brought sweet cakes to the table and laid the platter before Rhodri.

  Seeing them made me think of the last time I’d lain with Alrik. Grief squeezed until I could barely breathe.

  “Enough of Vikings. Tell me more about your position.”

  I pushed the pain away. I would figure a way out of this. “What else would you like to know?”

  “Refusing a man’s bed, while infuriating and unacceptable, is hardly worth the price on your head. What were some of these unfortunate events?”

  I held his gaze. “I suspect cutting off his cock might have had something to do with it.”

  He coughed, spraying crumbs onto his tunic. “Indeed.”

  “I do not take kindly to rape.”

  To my surprise, his face blossomed into a wide grin and he laughed. “You are a wonder. Come.” He held out his hand to me. “Join me at my table. I must hear more of this tale.”

  I nodded and rose, tucking my arm in his. Once Rhodri took his place on the dais, the feasting began. Mead and wine filled cups and horns; lampreys, trout, and salmon crowded platters; and cheese and breads spanned across long boards. Over several courses, I caught Rhodri up to date, leaving no stone unturned. He learned about my capture and ransom and ultimately how I escaped Demas. This progressed to my encounters with Marared and her evil conniving mother, which in due time led me here to his table.

  “You are a remarkably resilient woman,” he said.

  “I’m a foolish woman. Had I just accepted their warnings and run away to the continent, I wouldn’t be here now.”

  He finished chewing the bread in his mouth, shaking the half loaf in his fist. “No. You are brave. A woman in charge of her own destiny. A shield-maiden of old. I respect that.”

  “Do you respect it enough to let me go?”

  He howled with laughter. “And witty, too.” He slapped me hard on the back, pitching me forward. “We will talk more tomorrow.” He snapped his fingers and my guards arrived. With a nod of his head, they stepped forward.

  I got the hint. “Until tomorrow.” I curtsied, and they led me out of the hall and across the manor to my comfortable prison. I only flinched a little when the iron latch locked home.

  Early the following morning, my guards roused me from bed and accompanied me into the hall.

  Rhodri swooped down to greet me. “Come, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” With a flourish, he escorted me to the head table. I froze. My feet dug into the rushes. My legs refused to move.

  “Hello, Avelynn.” Dark eyes, lit with amusement, sparkling in their depths, bored into mine. An arrogant grin that might have been termed handsome if it weren’t plastered on such a vile and vicious face, rose to greet me. The bastard himself remained seated.

  My skin crawled. I panicked, ready to run. I’d expected more time. I needed more time.

  Rhodri nudged me forward, all but carrying me up the step of the raised dais. “You will of course remember your husband’s seneschal. Lord Sigberht was just telling me his version of past events. Quite the contrary stories indeed.”

  I tried to recover, but my blood filled with dread, rendering me mute.

  “So quiet.” Sigberht studied me with a tilt to his head. “So unlike you.”

  His enjoyment at catching me off guard as he reveled in my fear forced anger to rise to the surface. “Sigberht.”

  “Please. Have a seat.” Rhodri pulled out the empty bench next to Sigberht. I sat as if in a numb, cold fog.

  Sigberht’s voice dripped with charm. “Your uncle and husband send their greetings. They look forward to your return.”

  “I imagine.” I forced myself to look him in the eyes. The malice and contempt I saw there made my stomach churn. I couldn’t let him bring me back to England. I was under no illusion that I’d somehow be spared pain and suffering until I set foot on English soil. Once this man got me to himself, I would experience firsthand his animosity. I’d die first before I let that happen.

  Angharad entered the hall and paused, assessing the situation. Perhaps it was my pallor, the rigid set of my shoulders, or the two dozen strange men milling about the room that tipped her off, but she made her way to the head table and stopped in front of Sigberht. She tried speaking something in Welsh but then continued in English. “I would be most grateful if you would allow me to sit beside my friend.” She flashed a warm smile his way. “I am Angharad, Lady of Seisyllwg, betrothed to Rhodri ap Merfyn, your host.”

  Sigberht stood and bowed with exaggerated flourish. “Of course, my lady. Please.” He held the chair for her to sit.

  He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. His thumb wormed into my neck. It took fortitude of will to stop from wilting under the pressure. “Until later, then.” Sigberht nodded to me and trailed his fingers along my back as he slunk away.

  With the arrival of Rhodri’s guests of honor, the feast got underway earlier than usual. Food and drink streamed in from the kitchens and buttery. The cacophony in the hall simmered to the sound of knives scraping across platters, clothing rustling, and the murmurs of hushed conversation. I stared at my trencher, unable to imagine eating any of it. Angharad watched me, her drinking horn poised in the air, her elbow resting on the table. I hoped she was thinking as rapidly as I was.

  I needed a weapon. As far as I knew, there were only two guards posted outside my room at night. Even if I could get past them without alerting anyone, where would I go from there? I knew I could find my way back to the strait, but Sigberht had arrived by ship. Several men would most likely stay aboard while he settled his transaction. The shore would be crawling with the English louses.

  By the time the fourth course worked its way around the hall, conversation resumed, the level of chatter proportional to the amount of drink the group had consumed. I took the opportunity to whisper to Angharad. “I need a knife. And gold.”

  Her gaze swept the room, ensuring no one listened to or watched our exchange. “I’ll find a way to get them to you. But how will you—”

  “A boat. I need a small scuttle. Something to slip away in.”

  “But Sigberht.” She glanced in his direction.
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br />   He sensed her scrutiny and bestowed a snarl in my direction before returning his attention to Rhodri.

  I grimaced. “I don’t know the land. I have no choice but to strike out at sea. At least I can follow the coast, make my way back to the strait.”

  “How far do you think you can make it before they set off after you?”

  “I don’t know but I have to try. I can’t let them take me. I …” The weight of my circumstance threatened to pull me under. Tears welled. I changed tack. “I’ll make it.”

  Once the feast concluded, I was spared further conversation with Sigberht, and my guards escorted me back to my cottage. I paced the room. Angharad would find a way to help, but I had to wait. My gut twisted. Time was a precious commodity, and it was running out.

  A key turned in the lock. The door opened, and Sigberht strolled inside. He smiled. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment.” He stalked closer.

  I stepped back.

  “Nowhere to go. No father here to protect you. No Viking to whisk you away. Just you and me.”

  There was no point in trying to appeal to his humanity. I was fairly certain he didn’t have any—at least where I was concerned, especially after the way I’d treated him. At the time, my actions were necessary. I’d run the manor in my father’s absence and uncovered Sigberht’s plot to steal wealth from Wedmore. I’d reprimanded him in front of his peers, all but exiling him from Somerset. I’d done my duty, but to Sigberht, I was a woman who’d overstepped my boundaries and humiliated him.

  He was tall, rising a head and shoulder above me, and broad, but not so large as to make it impossible for me to best him in a fight. He hadn’t unsheathed any weapons, and I took that as a sign. It gifted me options and the possible opportunity to escape. I continued to back up, assessing the situation, until I bumped against the wall.

  He stopped in front of me, his body obliterating any semblance of personal space. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “Better leave something for Demas and Osric.”

  “Oh, I won’t kill you. I want to watch you suffer.” He grabbed my wrist.

  I swung. My free fist connected with his nose. He cupped his face.

  I used the opportunity to slip past him and bolt for the door. His hand seized my forearm and yanked me backward, wrenching my arm up and behind my back. He grabbed a fist full of hair, pulling it tight. “You filthy little bicche.” He spun me around and pressed my stomach into the wall. I tried to jerk free, but a quick thrust of his arm smashed my forehead into the thick oak planks. My legs gave out. Pain rendered me dizzy and disoriented. Wetness trickled down my cheek.

  “Demas didn’t get the pleasure of breaking you, but I’m going to rip you in two.” He let go of my hair to fuss with his belt. I pushed back from the wall, my elbow connecting with his cheekbone. He grunted and stepped backward, his grip loosening. I pulled my arm free of his hold and spun to face him.

  He lunged. Leaning into the charge, I used his body weight and momentum to propel him up and over my side as I flipped him to the ground. He hit the ground hard and groaned. I’d hoped for a few seconds’ gain, but he swiped at my legs, knocking me down. He scrambled on top of me, pinning me. I drew my arms down my sides and used my legs to shake him off, rolling him sideways onto the rushes. In the ensuing grappling and squirming, I landed a strong knee lift to his face. His nose gushed blood. “You foul whoreson.”

  I found my feet and reached for a chair. His fist connected with my kidney, and I crumpled, falling into the table. Given his awkward positioning, the blow hadn’t been enough to knock the wind out of me, but it had caught me off guard, and he’d pulled me down. I attempted to block the worst of his knuckles from finding my face, but my head exploded in pain.

  “Enough!” Rhodri’s muffled voice cut through the ringing in my ears.

  As though dunked in a frigid lake, Sigberht froze.

  “I suggest you leave off,” Rhodri said.

  Sigberht stood and brushed down his tunic. I rolled into a ball.

  “This is none of your concern.” It was as close to a warning as Sigberht would be able to muster under Rhodri’s roof.

  “It is my concern. As long as this woman is under my protection, she is my guest and will be treated with respect.”

  “Then I will take her aboard my ship. To save you the inconvenience of having to witness the end of our lively discussion.”

  “As a foreigner here, on my soil, it will be you who will wait aboard your ship. In accordance with our arrangement, she will be delivered to your safekeeping in the morning.”

  I couldn’t see what was going on. I was too focused on breathing and managing the pain.

  Sigberht broke the standoff. “Very well, I will collect her at dawn.” Footfalls receded from the room.

  April 4

  “Avelynn?” Angharad’s voice lit like a caress on my broken skin. Her hand rested on my shoulder.

  “Get her to bed.” Rhodri voiced the order, and hands lifted me. I winced when they set me down.

  “You cannot turn her over to those beasts,” Angharad hissed.

  “I have no choice. The deal is struck.”

  “What if I asked you to spare her? As a gift to me. Let her go, and I will give myself to you freely.”

  I tried to reach out to her. “Angharad.”

  She grasped my hand. “I’m all right, Avelynn.” She turned to Rhodri. “What say you?”

  “I am sorry.” Footsteps faded away.

  She said something in Welsh and the door closed. Angharad clicked her teeth as her finger traced my chin, turning me to look at her. My right eye was swollen. I could hardly see out of it. Her face appeared a watery blur.

  “Bastard.” Her eyebrows creased with concern.

  “He was kind compared to what Demas and Osric will do.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  Her compassion and vehemence touched me, but I couldn’t fathom how to escape now. “There’s no time.”

  “Mistress. The lord bade me fetch you a cauldron of warm water and some linens.” A maid stood in the open doorway.

  “Set it on the table and go.”

  The girl deposited her bundle and all but tripped over her feet to exit the room.

  Angharad wiped my face with a warm, damp cloth. I hissed when it touched the raw bits.

  “You look terrible,” she said under her breath.

  “At least I got a few good strikes in before he got me on the ground.” Wulfric would have been furious with me for getting into that position in the first place. I’d reached for the chair, wanting to use it as a weapon, but I’d left myself exposed. Up until that point, I’d been doing fine with what the Goddess had given me.

  “True. He didn’t look much better.”

  “Good.” I sucked in a breath as Angharad poked and prodded my cheek and the bones around my eye.

  “I don’t think anything’s broken, but you’ll be a sight for a while. Drink this.” She handed me a cup. I squinted at it.

  “It will help manage the pain.”

  “I can’t afford to be groggy. I need my wits about me.”

  “I’ve had it countless of times for aches of the head. It helps deaden the sharp pulses that stab with each heartbeat.”

  I drank half the contents and pushed it away. “I need a knife.” I gripped her hand. “I won’t go with him. I can’t.” I knew my bad eye was tearing, but so was the good one.

  “Shush now. We’ll come up with something.”

  “I mean it. I will not go with him. If it comes to it, he will not take me alive.” If I couldn’t escape, I would take matters into my own hands. No matter what happened, I would not be on that ship tomorrow. I yawned.

  “If you could get away, where would you go?” Angharad asked.

  “Bangor.” My limbs felt like iron weights. My head became fuzzy. “How often do you take that tonic?” I could feel the pull, luring me to close my eyes. I wanted to sleep.

  “At le
ast once or twice a week. Why?” Angharad’s weight lifted from the bed.

  When I woke, sometime later, the room was empty. A platter of cheese and salted meat lay on the table. I sat up and groaned as my body resisted the idea. I tried to open my right eye but gave up. The swelling clamped it shut.

  I tested my range of movement. Other than specific points of tenderness and an all-over ache to my muscles, the damage was superficial—a collection of welts and bruises.

  In light of this information and the full trencher of food now settled contentedly in my stomach, my survival instincts galloped to full speed.

  By the time Angharad returned to check on me, I’d come up with a rough plan. So, fortunately, had she.

  She cut the preamble. “The guards outside the cottage have been called away. You have precious little time.” She handed me a cloak.

  I threw the heavy wool over my shoulders and took the broach Angharad held out for me. I clasped the fabric at my shoulder.

  She dropped two satchels on the table. “I filled one with food, the other coins.”

  “Where did you get these?” I asked, tying them to my belt.

  “Let’s just say my betrothed decided it important I receive a fair bride price.”

  “He’s to help us?”

  “Help, no. But he will not hinder you. I’ve moored a curragh along the shore, south of the harbor.”

  “How far is it from Sigberht’s ship?”

  “Stay to the shadows along the treeline. You will be nowhere near him.”

  If I could slip into the sea unnoticed … get a head start. Hopefully, they would search by foot when they noticed me missing, assuming I wouldn’t be able to make it far without a horse.

  “If you can’t make it to the strait, get yourself overland. There is a main road that runs through Anglesey. At its end, ferries will take you across to Bangor.”

  “Did you manage to get hold of a knife?”

  She lifted the hem of her skirt. I caught the flash of soft, pale skin. She withdrew a knife and scabbard from inside her boot, untying it from around her calf. “It’s the best I could do.”