Paying the Viking's Price

by Michelle Styles

  Brand took it gravely and shook it. The expression in the boy’s eyes reminded him of his youth. ‘And what do you do, Godwin?’

  ‘I serve the lady.’

  ‘Lady Edith?’ Brand crouched down so his eyes were level with Godwin.

  ‘That’s right. My da said I had to as he went with Lord Egbert. Only Lady Edith told me that she didn’t need any help.’ He scuffed his foot in the dirt. ‘Except she can’t watch for the bad men like I can.’

  ‘I can imagine.’ Brand rubbed his temple. Whichever bad men Godwin feared, Lady Edith had feared them as well. The passageway was blocked deliberately.

  ‘There you are, Godwin!’ Lady Edith called out, hurrying forwards. ‘Your mother is looking for you.’

  ‘I fear I detained him, Lady Edith.’ Brand put a hand on Godwin’s shoulder. Lady Edith knew. She had more spies than one boy. ‘He has been enlightening me.’

  She put her hand to her neck. Several tendrils of black had escaped from her headdress and framed her face. ‘He is just a boy.’

  ‘I know what he is. What is his role here?’

  ‘He is the son of one of my husband’s retainers.’ Lady Edith nodded to Godwin. ‘Your mother has been searching everywhere for you.’

  Brand put his hand on Godwin’s shoulders. ‘He was here, watching for the bad men. I’ve explained that no bad men are here and he is under my protection.’

  Edith faked a smile as her stomach knotted. How much had Brand guessed? She had to hope that he hadn’t discovered the blocked tunnel. She’d blocked it so that Egbert could not sneak back and catch them unawares after he’d left for the rebellion.

  ‘Godwin, come with me, your mother is worried. She wants you to look after your baby sister. You are the man in the family now.’

  Godwin screwed up his face. ‘I want to stay here with the warriors.’

  Edith glanced at Brand. He had made a conquest.

  ‘You should do what Lady Edith requests, Godwin. A good warrior always looks after his women.’

  Godwin scampered off, leaving her alone with Brand. Edith regarded the piles of wool and salt cod, rather than looking at his broad frame silently looming before her.

  Her prayers had gone unanswered. Even when John the tallow maker’s son had told her about the find, she’d hoped that he had not uncovered the salt cod or the passageway.

  ‘You discovered my hiding place,’ she said when the silence grew too great.

  ‘The salt cod had spoilt. The wool remains good.’

  Edith pressed her fingers together and tried not to scream as the rain started to fall heavier, soaking her to the skin. He enjoyed prolonging the torture. He knew about the passage. He had to. But she couldn’t blurt out about it in case by some miracle it had gone unnoticed. ‘And you are an expert in salt cod?’

  ‘My father was a trader and I learnt at his knee.’

  ‘I see.’ Edith wiped the rain from her eyes and the end of her nose. ‘I obviously made a mistake. It won’t be the first time.’

  ‘It is good to know you can admit to mistakes.’

  ‘I’ve no trouble taking responsibility for my mistakes.’ She raised her chin defiantly. ‘Ruined salt cod is not good. I paid good money for it and now it has no purpose except to go on the rubbish heap.’

  His face grew thunderous. ‘You didn’t come to find Godwin. You came because you knew the wool and salt cod were discovered. What else is there, Lady Edith? What should I be looking for? What was worth spoiling a year’s supply of salt cod for?’

  ‘You’re wrong.’ Edith forced her shoulders back. She had excellent reasons for keeping quiet about the salt cod and the wool. ‘Godwin’s mother asked me to find him as she worries. I happened to search here.’

  ‘A happy coincidence, then.’

  ‘Yes. That’s right. Is there anything else?’ She waited with bated breath for him to ask about the passageway.

  ‘I wish you to look your best for the feast. You should be attending to that rather than searching for a lost child.’ Brand’s lips turned upward. ‘Your cousin might be able to help you with your hair if you are not used to such things. Now if you will excuse me, I have an estate to explore. On my own.’

  Edith clenched her fists as her confidence plummeted. He enjoyed baiting her and he hated her wimple! She would keep her secrets. Her people were counting on her. Somehow the thought lacked comfort.

  Chapter Four

  The sound of Hilda’s outraged shrieks combined with the pandemonium of cauldrons crashing and heavy objects falling filled Edith’s ears even before she reached the kitchens. Edith gritted her teeth. Hilda never liked to make things easy.

  ‘Hilda,’ she called out as she entered the kitchen. ‘I need you. Immediately, if not sooner.’

  At the sound of her voice, the tableau froze. The cook gesturing towards a black cauldron, and Hilda’s sulky expression while a variety of ladles and spoons lay on the floor as the kitchen boys cowered, told Edith everything she needed to know. Brand was right. The kitchen was no place for Hilda.

  ‘Hilda, it is time you leave the cook and his staff to do what they do best.’

  Hilda stuck her nose in the air and marched out of the kitchen. ‘Me being a scullery maid was not one of your better ideas, cousin. That cook actually expected me to wash the cauldrons! Do you know how long it takes me every night to keep my hands soft? I was born a lady, not a thrall.’

  ‘Then you will be relieved to know that you are to be in the main hall tonight. Lord Bjornson has requested your presence at the feast.’

  The colour fled from Hilda’s face. ‘You told him about me? You promised, Edith! What else have you done?’

  ‘After your little performance back there, I don’t wonder King Halfdan in Eoferwic doesn’t know about you!’ Edith crossed her arms. Hilda could not have it all her own way. ‘Try taking some responsibility, Hilda. Brand Bjornson saw us talking earlier. You should know that I do endeavour to keep my promises.’

  Hilda had the grace to flush. ‘You should change the cook. He has not the least idea about proper respect.’

  ‘Fulke has been with us since before my father died, first as a kitchen boy and now the head cook.’ Edith took a calming breath. Screaming at Hilda wouldn’t serve any purpose. Hilda had never liked hard work. ‘In the kitchen, he is king. It has always been that way. What precisely did he do, besides ask you to clean the pots?’

  Hilda picked at her sleeve. ‘If you must know, I became angry at that blasted cook for saying you were a Norseman’s whore. He had no right.’

  Edith winced. She could well imagine the insults which were bandied about, but they were only words. Words only had the power to hurt if she let them. She’d learned that lesson long ago with Egbert. Inside she knew her reasons and some day everyone who mocked her would be grateful. ‘I believe that is what a concubine is.’

  ‘But it isn’t right. It hurts to be called such things.’

  Edith drew in her breath. ‘All I have is your word, Hilda. Fulke has not dared say it to my face.’

  Hilda blushed and Edith breathed easier. Hilda had spun another tall tale to get someone into trouble.

  ‘Did you know they are slaughtering two of the cattle? You refused Egbert cattle when he left. And Fulke wants the spice cupboard unlocked because Lord Bjornson asked if we had any cinnamon bark. Who uses such a thing?’

  Edith fumbled for her keys, only to grasp thin air. She looked up at the ceiling and blinked back tears. ‘Fulke will have to ask Lord Bjornson for the key.’

  ‘He has taken your keys!’

  ‘The hall and all its contents belong to him.’

  ‘I can’t believe you, Edith. You are so calm about the whole thing. All your spirit is gone. I thought you were a Northumbrian through and through, yet you surrende
red your keys. Your mother’s keys!’

  ‘Who can I fight, Hilda?’ Edith held out her hands. Somehow she had to make Hilda understand that it was dangerous to be belligerent. She was playing this game for the long term. No one would be helped if she broke down now. The gold, silver and jewellery were well hidden. You had to know where in the lord’s bedchamber to look. Brand Bjornson would never find it. ‘We are in this mess because Egbert decided to fight, rather than accepting my father’s pledge of fealty. The Norsemen would have left us alone if we paid that tithe. Yes, it would have been hard, but we could have done it.’

  ‘But don’t you care?’

  ‘I don’t like it any more than you do. I don’t like the increased demand of tithes, but the Norsemen won. The rebellion is no more. I have a duty to look after the living. Petty vengeance solves nothing.’

  Hilda looked thoughtful. ‘I dislike working in the kitchens, Edith. It makes me want to pour poison in their soup. And I hope they choke on the beef.’

  Edith shuddered slightly at the thought of her cousin poisoning someone. Hilda was far too impetuous.

  ‘Then it is best that you don’t have to work in the kitchens any more.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Orders. We all have to obey them, some time, even me. You’re to help me do something with my hair. Lord Bjornson dislikes my headdress.’

  ‘I am to dress you now? Like a common servant?’

  ‘You are to be my companion and help me. I can use your eyes and ears,’ Edith said, thinking quickly. ‘It is quite important. It is why you must dress in your finest clothes.’

  ‘Served up for some Norseman’s delectation so I can spy?’ Hilda went pale. ‘It is all right for you, but I wanted something more from my life.’

  Edith bit back the words asking Hilda about why, then, she had agreed to be Egbert’s mistress? ‘Hilda, for once, help.’

  ‘Very well, but I won’t wear my best gown. I want to be overlooked.’ Hilda’s entire body shook and her eyes were wild. ‘You promised, Edith. I came here to be safe from the Norsemen. Keep me safe.’

  ‘You never will be overlooked, Hilda.’ Edith put her hand on Hilda’s shoulders. ‘Hush now. I’ll do my best to keep you safe, I promise, but neither of us is in charge of our destiny right now. Some day we both will be. You have to believe that. The Norsemen never stay long. Here we have the chance to regain the land.’

  ‘You don’t really believe that, do you, Edith?’

  Edith looked over Hilda’s shoulder to the blank wall where she could see the shadows move. The memory of Brand’s kiss surged through her. ‘I have to believe it. I need hope. If I give that up, the world will truly be black. The only thing which keeps me going is my duty towards my people.’

  Her cousin leant her head against Edith. ‘I’m sorry, Edith. You are so good to me and I am such a beast. Egbert and I—’

  ‘We don’t need to talk about him, Hilda. Ever.’ Edith put her fingers across Hilda’s mouth. ‘He is dead and bears a large part of the blame.’

  Hilda’s eyes filled with tears. ‘So you knew. You never said anything despite...’

  ‘Egbert was my husband. How would I not know?’ Edith rolled her eyes. ‘It is in the past.’

  ‘What is this Brand Bjornson actually like? I’ve heard terrible stories. I’m worried about you. You seem strong, but can you withstand his sort of lovemaking? It could all go so wrong.’ Hilda brushed away her tears. Where crying turned Edith blotchy, Hilda managed to weep prettily. ‘You are so brave to take on this role. I do want to help you. We could try dressing your hair differently. Something to add colour to your face. And you could try not talking back. A man likes to believe he is right.’

  ‘Far too late for that, Hilda.’ Edith gave a little laugh. She might be about to become a concubine, but she refused to be subservient. ‘He knows what I look like and I’ve never been able to keep silent.’

  Hilda grabbed Edith’s arms. ‘If he is not good to you, Edith, I will scratch his eyes out. But I’m serious. I want to help. Our lives depend on your success.’

  ‘I believe you would too.’ Edith laughed. Her entire being relaxed. She was far from alone. Hilda would help in her own way. She had to hope that included being civil to the Norsemen.

  * * *

  The smell of roasting oxen filled the hall, making Brand aware of how long it had been since his last meal or since he’d last had beef. He knew it was extravagant, but it was one more promise fulfilled—his first meal in his hall. He had to hope that it tasted as good as it smelt.

  He glanced over to where Lady Edith sat. She had changed out of her shapeless gown into a dark blue one which highlighted her grey eyes, but her expression remained mutinous and she kept glancing over to where her cousin sat. He’d placed the cousin between Hrearek and another of the warriors. She appeared full of gaiety and charm. It was pure spite that had made Lady Edith banish her.

  Brand took a sip of his mead. He would bed Lady Edith, but not yet. The fun with her was in the chase. He wanted to unwrap her layers naturally, rather than forcing the pace. He had a year to seduce her. He wanted to prolong this feeling of interest.

  ‘Is the food up to the standard you require, my lady?’ Brand asked, breaking the silence which had wrapped about them. ‘You appear preoccupied and have barely tasted your meat. I had the cook use some of the spices I brought. They are imported from Byzantium. Are you waiting for me to feed you?’

  She ducked her head. ‘Hardly that.’

  ‘Then what is it?’ He gave in to temptation and put his hand on her shoulder, making sure his breath caressed her ear. ‘I’m hardly likely to make love with you in front of my men. I prefer privacy for those sorts of endeavours and I always make sure the lady is willing.’

  Her cheeks flushed scarlet and she took a long draught of mead. ‘It is good to know. My husband...’

  ‘Your late husband holds no sway over the proceedings or the estate. He has vanished as if he never was.’

  ‘Have you explored the entire estate?’ Edith choked out. She had to change the direction of the conversation before it became out of hand. Brand’s voice had conjured all sorts of images and possibilities in her head. Could she go back to the girl she once was? She had been so full of optimism then. ‘You can hardly blame me for attempting to keep something back. Most Norsemen want to take rather than settle. We who remain behind need to live.’

  He regarded her with sharp eyes before relaxing against the back of the chair. His fur-lined cloak brushed her thigh, sending a small pulse of warmth through her. Edith schooled her features. She was behaving worse than a virgin on her wedding night. She knew what the basic procedure was, though she’d never quite understood what was enjoyable about it. Egbert had always been rough, taking his pleasure before falling asleep with a drunken snore.

  For some reason when Brand was near, her body reacted in unexpected ways. Hurriedly she gulped her mead down.

  ‘Everything is fine.’ His mouth quirked upwards as if he knew how he affected her and why she’d chosen this topic. He motioned for her goblet to be refilled. ‘The estate as you said is more profitable than I was first led to believe. You are right about how Norsemen used to behave. We saw no reason to settle here. This time we have come to settle. The land is ours now.’

  ‘Is that what you call it—settling?’

  ‘You have another word?’

  ‘Conquering and annihilating.’

  ‘We must agree to differ. I’ve no wish to spoil my food with a fight.’

  Edith placed the goblet back on the table with a clunk. ‘I warned you that my skills as a conversationalist were not great. I’ve trouble keeping my opinions to myself.’

  ‘You should never be afraid of expressing a sincerely held belief. I judge men on their merits, rather than on their past beliefs.’

  ‘It is good to
know.’ Edith concentrated, but all her thoughts revolved around the breadth of his shoulders and the shadowy hollow of his throat. ‘What are you curious about?’

  ‘Shall we discuss why you chose to hide such a quantity of wool in an out-of-the-way place?’

  ‘I feared raiders.’

  ‘It wasn’t just to keep it away from the Norsemen. You had another purpose. Who else knows about the passageway, Lady Edith?’

  Edith tapped her finger against the ceramic goblet. He knew or rather had guessed. She’d underestimated him. ‘We had to take precautions with the wool. It was done under my orders. I take full responsibility if you are seeking to blame someone.’

  ‘For what?’

  Edith took a sip of her mead. The back of her neck prickled. ‘Must we play games? I gave orders for the salt cod to be put there. I can’t abide the smell, if you must know.’

  ‘It is your responsibility, rather than your husband’s.’

  ‘Yes.’ Edith lifted her chin and looked directly in to his piercing eyes. ‘I gave the order. Egbert enjoyed eating it, but it turns my stomach. I thought it best to keep it safe for his return. I was being prudent.’

  He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Is that what you call it?’

  ‘What else should I call it?’ Edith took a cautious sip of the mead, just one rather than gulping it down again. Allowing the mead to go to her head would only result in a headache tomorrow and she needed all her wits about her.

  Her stomach knotted and she once again felt that she was playing a high-stakes game where she wasn’t entirely certain of the rules. All she knew was that one misstep and everything would come tumbling down. She pushed the goblet away.

  ‘A passageway to the woods.’ He toyed with his knife. ‘Who are you trying to keep out? Your late husband? Did he know about it?’

  ‘It no longer matters. The cod has served its purpose.’ Edith kept her head up and her gaze focused somewhere over Brand Bjornson’s shoulder.

  There was no need to explain that she’d blocked the entrance to the passage to prevent Egbert from sneaking back in. The last thing she wanted was for this Norseman to know the true state of her former marriage and the threats he had made. Egbert was dead and buried, along with his men. She never had to think about him hurting her again. And Brand Bjornson would soon discover what she was like in bed. Suddenly she wanted the feast to continue for ever. Here she knew she could hold her own. In the dark, she’d be lost.