Paying the Viking's Price

by Michelle Styles

  Edith’s heart panged slightly. There was a woman back there who’d claimed his heart. It shouldn’t make a difference, but somehow it did. There was no good hoping for more. She was his concubine, not his love. ‘I was the same height as my late husband,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m not used to being little.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘You are smaller than me.’

  Edith moistened her suddenly dry lips. ‘I know.’

  ‘That makes you little.’

  ‘Or you big.’

  ‘It’s all in your point of view.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ Edith knew her breath was coming far too quickly. Her heartbeat raced and her entire body was aware of him and how close he was standing. She could see the droplet of water which had gathered at the base of his throat.

  He dipped his head. This time, his lips nibbled at her mouth, teasing and provoking. Edith arched towards him and his arms came about her, holding her there. Her mouth opened and she tasted his clean taste.

  He lifted his head and she moved away immediately.

  ‘What was that for?’ she asked, a little too breathlessly for her liking.

  ‘No particular reason.’

  ‘I think you wanted to end the argument.’

  Brand looked down at her upturned face. He fought against the instinct to crush her to him again and truly explore the depths of her interior. He wanted to savour the pursuit. He’d forgotten what it was like to spar with a woman. Too often these days women seemed to fall at his feet. Most had an eye on his position or his money.

  He shook his head at his folly. It was the exhaustion, rather than feeling for this woman. Had to be. He’d spent the night searching for hidden cavities in the hall, knowing she was safely tucked up in his chamber where she could do no damage.

  ‘And you prefer the final word.’

  She tilted her nose up, but her cheeks coloured prettily. ‘There is nothing wrong with that.’

  ‘But I’ve found the perfect way of silencing you.’ He gave a hearty laugh.

  ‘The household is beginning to stir.’

  His hand traced a line down her shoulder. ‘I will allow you to escape this time, Edith, but we are far from finished. In fact, we have not yet begun.’

  He watched her backside with appreciation as she turned, her skirt swinging. The exhaustion melted from his body. She would make a good bed-partner when the time came.

  She hadn’t gone thirty paces when she gave a stifled scream.

  He crossed the yard in a few short strides.

  ‘What is wrong, Edith?’

  With a trembling arm, she pointed. ‘There in the mist, a man is hanging. What goes on at these feasts of yours?’

  ‘How do you know it is one of my men?’

  ‘I don’t.’ She wrapped her arms about her waist. ‘The one thing I had hoped to avoid was bloodshed.’

  ‘You have no idea what it is.’ Brand put a hand on her back. ‘Shall we go and investigate?’

  ‘Together?’ she squeaked.

  ‘Unless you’d rather I do it on my own.’

  Her white teeth nibbled her bottom lip. ‘It is kind of you to offer, but I want to know as well. It startled me, that is all.’

  They walked in silence towards the figure. Halfway there, Brand’s shoulders relaxed. Not a body but a childish trick, a set of clothes, stuffed with straw. But a challenge to his authority as lord. The perpetrator had to be found and punished before other incidents happened. He’d witnessed other men’s authority ruined when they overlooked such petty tricks.

  Edith saw it an instant after he did. She let out a shuddering breath and the colour drained from her face. ‘What is that?’

  ‘A straw man.’

  ‘We won’t have to bury anyone at the crossroads, thank God.’ She shivered. ‘It is always awful when that happens.’

  A deep-seated anger filled Brand. The petty trick had unnerved Edith. He wondered briefly who she had buried at the crossroads. ‘I assume you know nothing of this.’

  ‘Why should I?’ Her eyes flashed fire and she became more like the woman he had encountered before. She glanced down at her skirt and tried to brush off the straw. ‘I was in the stables earlier. Someone had spilt hay everywhere. I went to see how my mare fared.’ Her hand faltered. ‘You must believe me.’

  ‘Did anyone see you?’

  ‘No one else is awake.’ She balled her hands into fists. ‘I would never do a cheap trick like that! Ever! It is cruel beyond imagining.’

  To his surprise, Brand believed her declaration. Her face had been far too shocked and white when she first spotted the figure hanging in the tree. She was not that good at mumming or play-acting. ‘I believe you.’

  Her tirade stopped. She opened and closed her mouth several times. ‘You do? Why?’

  Whoever had done this failed to consult Lady Edith. Interesting. ‘Is there some reason why I should think you are telling less than the whole truth?’ he countered.

  Slowly she shook her head. ‘When I was young, I discovered my aunt hanging like that. Her mind had become unhinged after she lost her baby to a fever. Even to this day, there are times I wake with dreams. There have been others over the years. I have had to arrange for the burials. The priest will have nothing to do with it. And my husband also refused.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He put his hand on her shoulder and felt her quiver. ‘Should it happen for real, I will deal with it. They should be treated with dignity.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Cut it down. Discover who did it and why. An air of suspicion hanging over the estate serves no good purpose.’

  ‘How are you going to do that?’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘I deserve to know. If you punish everyone, you will only breed resentment.’

  ‘You deserve nothing, but know it is my estate and I will handle it my way.’ He shook off her arm.

  He crossed over to the straw dummy, withdrew his knife and, with a single stroke of the blade, the figure tumbled to the ground. Brand saw, to his disgust, that whoever had done this had somehow managed to acquire a Norseman’s helm.

  He picked it up and examined the markings. With a start he realised who it belonged to. The audacity of it nearly took his breath away.

  ‘Whose helm is it?’

  He balanced it on his hand. ‘Hrearek will be embarrassed when I return his helm to him.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Is Hrearek the Norseman who attempted to molest Hilda last night? That was very brave of them. My people are not that brave.’

  ‘Foolhardy, you mean.’ Brand shook his head. ‘He must have been drunker than I thought. I shall have fun when I present it to him.’

  Her brow knitted. ‘After what happened, why would any Northumbrian dare?’

  ‘We have a different interpretation of events.’ Brand tapped his finger against the helm. ‘Hrearek did nothing to be ashamed of. However, some Northumbrian might have objected. After all, your cousin was the late earl’s mistress.’

  Her mouth became a stubborn white line. ‘I tell you that none of my people did this.’

  ‘Your people?’

  Her cheeks reddened. ‘Northumbrians then. The conquered.’

  ‘You are saying that a ghost did this?’

  ‘Or a Norseman,’ she retorted. ‘Seeking to cause mischief. Maybe someone holds a grudge against you.’

  ‘Why? What could one of my men hope to gain from this? If any has a grudge, he is welcome to speak up. He may even challenge me for the leadership of the felag.’

  Her teeth worried her bottom lip. A smug expression came into her eyes. ‘If I had an answer to that, I’d tell you, but I could ask the same question—why would any of the people who live here risk displeasing their new master? They
live in fear of you and any punishment you might dish out.’

  ‘When I require your counsel, then I will ask for it.’ Brand started to march away. He wanted to hit something hard. This was the first test of his authority here and he was not going to fail. Despite her story and shocked expression the most likely culprit stood before him. The hay on her gown proclaimed it. But he doubted she could have accomplished it on her own. He should have joined her in bed and taken his pleasure, rather than leaving her free to do mischief.

  ‘Wait, please wait.’ The plea in her voice echoed about the desert yard.

  He retained a lead on his temper. ‘Why?’

  ‘You have made up your mind before you know all the facts. You need to call everyone together and ask. Then and only then will you know the full truth.’

  ‘Why on earth should I do that?’

  ‘You said that you are to be the lord over everyone in this place. Northumbrian and Norseman.’ Her chin tilted upwards slightly. ‘You don’t want to be divisive and sow the seeds of discontent.’

  Brand froze. He could remember his mother complaining about his impatience. ‘And you are certain that it is not one of your people.’

  ‘I’d stake my life on it.’

  ‘Once I demonstrate to you that the guilty party is one of yours, then I expect you to show me where everything hidden is buried.’

  ‘I believe you’ve found everything.’

  ‘Insulting my intelligence will get you nowhere.’

  She fingered her neck. ‘How do you know I will have buried things?’

  ‘Because it is what I would have done.’ Before she could protest, he shook his head, silencing her. ‘You needn’t worry. I’ll find everything. It’ll go quicker if I’ve your cooperation.’

  Her eyes warred with his and she was the first to look away. ‘Very well, if it turns out to be one of my people, I will show you all of the hiding places I know about. I refuse to have any suffer on my account. But what will you give me if it proves to be a Norseman?’

  ‘The right to remain here, unmolested for as long as you desire it.’

  ‘As your adviser?’ She tilted her head to one side.

  ‘If you wish to be.’

  She held out her hand. ‘I accept your offer with pleasure. I know my people. Shall we gather everyone and question them all at once?’

  ‘Do you have a better plan?’

  She bowed her head and screwed up her eyes. ‘We should do it your way.’

  Brand smiled slightly. She’d fallen into his trap. He would expose her for what she was. Today was turning out better than he’d planned.

  Chapter Six

  Edith waited in the yard, her head held high, but her stomach roiled. It was one thing to agree to Brand’s terms with fake bravado and quite another to wait for it to happen.

  She had to be right about no one from her household being involved in the practical joke. Her entire future depended on her following her gut instinct. If she could prove to Brand that she was correct, she would not have to be his concubine. She would become his adviser instead and the sword which had dangled over her head would lift. If not, she would lose everything.

  She watched silently, keeping her hands at her sides and her head erect as everyone filed in—Northumbrian and Norseman—until the yard was full of sleepy and yawning people. Everyone had been roused, from the Norsemen warriors to the lowliest pig keeper.

  Brand stood in front of everyone, dressed in his battle gear, his double axe resting against his calf as he balanced the helm from the straw man in his right hand.

  ‘What is this all about, Brand Bjornson?’ Hrearek asked. ‘Why have you woken us? I thought we’d have one day to sleep in, particularly after a feast like the one you gave us.’

  The other Norsemen warriors echoed the grumbling. Brand’s face became sterner. He cleared his throat and the grumbling instantly ceased. The men stood straighter, but there was no disguising the malevolent glance she’d been given by the Norseman who’d caused the trouble last evening.

  Edith reached for her circlet of keys for comfort before remembering. If she was wrong, the mood of distrust and discontent created would be far worse than she’d ever imagined. She crossed her fingers and hoped. Her instinct had to be right. The person who had done this was not from Northumbria. It was a set-up designed to sow distrust.

  ‘There is something which needs to be sorted,’ Brand said in a tone of voice that allowed for no dissent. He nodded towards the most vocal of the Norseman. ‘You appear to be missing your helm, Hrearek.’

  Hrearek shuffled his shoulders importantly, thrusting out his chest. ‘It isn’t where I left it. I’ve had no time to search for it. Whoever took it will regret it when I’m through with them. I promise you that. On my honour as a Norseman.’

  ‘Funny, that. I found it straight away.’ Brand tossed him the helm, hitting him square in the chest. ‘Next time, look after it better, Hrearek. It can be a matter of life or death. We have been together for too long for me to risk losing you because of your inattention.’

  Hrearek scowled as he jammed the helm on. Edith clenched her jaw and concentrated on looking straight ahead, rather than returning the Norseman’s arrogantly malevolent gaze.

  Of all the people to have had their helm stolen, it would have to be him, the man who had wanted to bed Hilda.

  She’d made an enemy last night, but she knew she’d do the same again to protect Hilda or any woman belonging to this house. Edith gulped a mouthful of air as her heart contracted. Silently she prayed that the straw man wasn’t Hilda taking some sort of childish revenge. She could remember an incident with some nuts which went wrong last Christmas. Egbert had laughed, but the kitchen boy suffered a beating before the truth came out.

  ‘Next time, Hrearek, I expect you properly dressed before you come on parade,’ Brand thundered.

  Hrearek stood straighter. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘The incident is now closed.’

  Hrearek moved to stand behind his jaarl. The remainder of Brand’s men followed his lead—a definite show of strength by the Norsemen and a statement that they all stood together with their leader.

  Edith’s heart sank. Had her instincts been wrong? Swiftly she silenced the little voice which urged her to withdraw before she was utterly humiliated, before Hilda was exposed. Nothing was proved. Just because Hilda had made a straw family last Christmas, it didn’t mean she had done so this time. She just wished she’d remembered that particular jape before she had opened her mouth, pledging hidden treasure against the freedom to live how she wanted. She glanced about her and saw that Hilda was missing.

  Edith balanced on the tips of her toes, debating if she should ask Brand for permission to fetch her cousin when Hilda entered the yard, wrapped in several shawls and yawning her head off. Edith waved.

  Hilda ran up to her. ‘What is going on, Edith? Why have we been dragged from our beds? What new tortures have the Norsemen devised? Is this your fault?’

  Edith put her fingers to her lips. Right now, whatever happened, she had to keep Hilda calm. A hysterical Hilda was not worth thinking about. ‘All will be explained, but a straw man has been found.’

  ‘A straw man. How wonderful!’ Hilda clapped her hands. ‘Was it poking fun at the Norseman? How clever.’

  ‘What do you know about it?’

  ‘Ask me no questions, dearest cousin.’ Hilda waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m simply pleased that others want to fight back. It was a warning to all the Norsemen that they may control the land, but ultimately we will prevail.’

  ‘Petty tricks are not fighting back,’ Edith retorted sharply. ‘They can come back to haunt you. Or, worse still, hurt innocents who might be caught up. Have a care, Hilda.’

  ‘You treat me like a child, cousin. As if I would do some
thing so foolish!’

  ‘Only when you act like one.’ Edith put her finger to her mouth. ‘Brand Bjornson is in a fearsome temper over this little incident.’

  ‘You haven’t done anything foolish, have you?’ Hilda’s eyes grew wide and she clutched the shawl tighter. ‘You were wrong to try. This whole adventure has been a mistake from start to finish. You should have been keeping him sweet.’

  ‘I hope not,’ Edith whispered back and her stomach knotted worse than ever. She had cast her dice and now she had to hope for the best. ‘I told him that it could not be someone from my household. We made a bargain.’

  ‘What did you promise him, cousin?’

  ‘Shall we begin, Lady Edith?’ Brand’s voice cut through her panic.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Her voice sounded far calmer than she considered possible. ‘Like you, I wish to get to the bottom of this. I dislike mysteries.’

  ‘Lady Edith and I discovered a straw man hanging from a tree,’ Brand thundered. Somehow his shoulders broadened and he seemed to grow in height and ferocity. ‘Who put him there? Who seeks to mock me and my men? Confess this instant! We are not criminals who deserve to be hanged but the rightful lords and masters of this place. We acquired this land with the might of our swords and we will keep this land!’

  He lifted his sword and planted it in the ground.

  The entire yard fell silent, far more silent than she thought a crowd could be. Edith bit her bottom lip. She didn’t blame them. With Brand looking like that, was it any wonder?

  Somewhere in the crowd a baby let out a thin wail, swiftly followed by a mother’s hushing. But still no one spoke.

  ‘No one?’ Brand raised his eyebrow after the silence seemed to last for a lifetime. ‘You are saying that the straw man just appeared. Conjured out of thin air?’

  There was a mumbling and shuffling of feet.

  ‘It might be one of the rebels returned!’ someone shouted.

  Brand put his hand to his ear. ‘I have trouble hearing you. Someone is responsible for this. In the end, I will discover who has done this. I am a peaceful man, but it does not do to rouse my anger. If any of you harbours this person or any of the rebels, it will go ill for you.’