Paying the Viking's Price

by Michelle Styles

  Again there was silence, but Edith could see the resentment growing in the Northumbrian faces.

  ‘If none will speak, all will be punished.’

  ‘What are you going to do, punish everyone including the children?’ Edith asked in an undertone. ‘The innocent and the guilty alike? None has returned. I am willing to swear an oath on this. It will not be one of the men who left here with Egbert who did this. The person who did this is standing in this yard.’

  ‘What do you suggest, Lady Edith?’ His voice was carved from chipped ice. ‘I will find the guilty party. Trust me on this. The longer it takes, the worse it will be...for everyone. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?’

  ‘And you remain convinced that it was a Northumbrian?’ Edith resolutely kept her gaze from Hilda. The longer it went on, the less sure she was that Hilda had anything to do with it. Hilda would never put others in jeopardy like that. She had a kind heart.

  Brand made a sweeping gesture. ‘As you can see, my men had nothing to do with it. They would have answered swiftly and truthfully. It is part of the felag’s code. If a man cannot trust others in the felag, it cannot hold. If someone had been misguided enough to do this, he would have confessed. It is part of our code.’

  ‘You trust your men.’

  ‘With my life.’

  ‘I feel the same about my people.’ Edith crossed her arms. ‘They’re not warriors, but they do know what warriors can do. They fear you!’

  ‘What do you suggest? This calling together of everyone has not given the result you declared it would.’

  ‘If you must punish someone, punish me,’ Edith said in a steady voice as she made a sudden decision. She had to take the punishment, rather than have innocents suffer. It couldn’t be worse than what she’d suffered with Egbert.

  ‘You?’ He lifted an eyebrow.

  ‘If someone must take the blame for this practical joke, punishing me will send a message.’ Edith clasped her hands together and raised them in supplication. ‘It is far better than burning a storehouse or torching a barn. They’ve lost so much, why should they lose more?’

  She made sure that her voice could be heard in the furthest corner of the yard. At her words, people shook their heads.

  ‘She should be flogged,’ Hrearek called out. ‘For daring to defy you. There is no need to look further for who the culprit is. Your concubine should suffer a hundred lashes for her defiance!’

  The other Norsemen beat their swords against their shields. Edith’s legs became jelly. A hundred lashes. There was no way she could survive that!

  ‘You think that little of me?’ Brand asked, ignoring the growing chorus. ‘You think I intend to burn some storehouse? Or deprive people of food? Is that why you want this to happen?’

  Edith forced her shoulders to straighten. ‘I want this ordeal to end. You are intent on punishing a Northumbrian. Punish me and be done with it.’

  ‘This ordeal, as you call it, was your idea. I thought you wanted to find the true culprit. Who do you suspect?’

  She wrapped her arms about her middle. She couldn’t accuse Hilda without proof and Hilda would faint before the first lash hit her flesh. ‘I’ve no idea. I wish I knew.’

  ‘You must have an idea.’ Brand’s fierce face turned towards her. ‘Are you going to confess, Lady Edith? Is that the true reason why you had straw on your gown?’

  Edith put her hand on her throat as the day suddenly became more like a bad dream.

  ‘I simply don’t want to see any innocent suffer,’ she whispered between parched lips. ‘I told you the truth about visiting my horse. I will take the punishment because I have to.’

  ‘I...I know!’ a young voice piped up. ‘I know who did this and it wasn’t a lady. You must not punish Lady Edith. It is not right.’

  A ripple of astonishment went through the crowd as the words sunk in.

  ‘Who speaks?’ Brand thundered, shading his eyes. ‘I wish to see him and hear his evidence.’

  ‘I do, sir. I wish to speak.’

  Edith’s heart pounded. Godwin. It couldn’t have been him. He wouldn’t have had the strength to lift the straw man up and she doubted if he would have stolen a helm.

  Godwin’s mother rushed forwards and raised her arms in supplication. ‘Forgive my son. He knows not what he says. He is just a boy. Spare him. I will take the punishment for him. Just spare my son. I beg you! He is young.’

  ‘I know what I say, Mother. And I do know who did this,’ Godwin replied in a strong voice, shrugging off his mother’s hand so that he darted forwards again. He put his hands on his hips. ‘You should listen to me, earl of the Norseman, if you want justice done, rather than simply punishing the lady.’

  Edith bit her lip. There was no way Godwin could know anything. It was a gallant but misguided attempt to protect her. ‘Brand,’ she said in an undertone, ‘he is just a boy. He is the only male relation his mother has. He won’t have done anything. He is a good boy.’

  ‘Come forwards, Godwin, so that all might see and hear your testimony. You have nothing to fear.’ Brand beckoned imperiously with his hand. He gave Edith a pointed glance. ‘You will see that Norsemen justice is fair to those who tell the truth.’

  Godwin stepped forwards. He stood bareheaded in front of Brand. He raised his chin and his gaze never wavered. Edith knew his father, Athelstan, would have been proud to see the sort of man his son had begun to become. ‘I trust you to be fair, sir.’

  ‘How do you know, Godwin?’ Edith ignored Brand’s glower. He had to understand how misguidedly brave Godwin was being. ‘You should have been at home, asleep.’

  ‘He was, my lady.’ His mother stood up, her face white and her eyes fearful. ‘I swear it. With all those Norsemen about, I couldn’t risk something happening. I bolted the door and sat up all night just in case. My son was asleep in the loft.’

  Edith turned to Brand and held out her hands, willing him to understand finally the impossibility of Godwin’s claim. ‘You see.’

  ‘I wanted to watch the warriors, Lady.’ Godwin bowed low. ‘I beg your and my mother’s pardon. I climbed down from the loft on the outside.’ Godwin stuck his chest out and hooked his thumbs in his trousers. With each word, his voice grew in strength. ‘I’m an excellent climber. I saw you and the Lady Hilda depart and heard the bard’s songs about the deeds of Brand Bjornson. Then I was afraid of going back and waking my mother, so I decided to sleep in the stables. I curled up amongst the straw.’

  ‘That much is true, my lady,’ one of the stable hands called. ‘I discovered him curled up like a dormouse in the hay loft.’

  Brand crouched down, so his face was on a level with Godwin’s. This lad had seen something. He could feel it in his bones. In an odd way, Godwin reminded him of another boy back in Norway. Brand had a clear memory of hiding beneath a table so that he could see his father feast. Godwin had seen something. Edith might protest but he knew it was the truth. ‘What did you see, young man? Which of the Northumbrians did this?’

  ‘It wasn’t a Northumbrian, sir. He was unknown to me.’

  Brand stood straight up. His stomach twisted. He hated the thought. One of his men? The lad had to be mistaken. None of his men would dare. ‘Not a Northumbrian? Explain. Do you mean a Norseman did this?’

  Godwin gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘I think so, sir. Aye, I’m sure so.’

  ‘You are going to allow this lad to accuse us?’ Hrearek shouted. ‘You should punish the Lady Edith.’

  The other members of the felag rattled their swords and axes against their shields. Brand frowned. Hrearek’s words were far too quick and undisciplined.

  Brand held up his hand and instantly the Norsemen fell silent. ‘I wish to hear the boy speak.’

  ‘Who did you see, Godwin?’ Edith put her arm about Godwin’s shoulde
rs. ‘Don’t be afraid. Tell the truth and shame the devil.’

  ‘I saw...I saw him.’ Godwin raised his hand and pointed toward Hrearek. ‘He did this and now he seeks to punish you, Lady, and that is very wrong.’

  The big Norseman turned crimson and began to bluster. ‘Me? Why would I do that? I’ve been searching for my helm. It was why I was late. I’ve never been in the stables. Me? I don’t even like horses.’

  ‘Do you have any proof, Godwin?’ Brand asked. The significance of it slammed home. Hrearek. Over the past few weeks since he’d been honoured by Halfdan, Hrearek had become more and more insolent, bordering on insubordinate, but not quite. Would Hrearek truly attempt to undermine his leadership in this way? Things like this happened in poorly run felags. He prided himself on running a good felag, just as Sven had done before him.

  Brand clenched his jaw. He desperately needed proof. Hrearek and he had been together for far too long for him just to accept this boy’s word. But he knew deep within his gut that Godwin was telling the truth. He had seen Hrearek. It explained about the helm.

  ‘It is a big thing to accuse a warrior.’

  The boy swallowed hard and tears filled his eyes. Brand was taken back to a time when he was a little younger than Godwin. He had faced his father and told him the truth about how his wife was bullying Brand’s mother and setting her up. No one had taken his part. He’d been beaten for lying, but later, after his mother died, the truth had emerged.

  ‘I know that, sir, but I couldn’t allow Lady Edith to get hurt.’

  ‘He accuses Hrearek? A mere boy? That is a brave boy!’ some of his men called.

  ‘Are you going to stand for this? One of the felag! Where’s the proof?’ others retorted.

  Brand’s shoulders tightened as the noise behind him grew. The worst of all possible outcomes. Hrearek enjoyed great popularity with a certain section of the men. And the last thing Brand wanted to do was to split the felag and force his men to choose sides.

  He would have to find a way to get Hrearek to reveal his hand. If, in truth, Hrearek intended on challenging for the leadership, he needed something solid which would enable him to act at a place of his choosing. The sagas were littered with men who had waited too long and lost everything.

  A faint glimmer of tears showed in Godwin’s eyes. ‘He didn’t speak...’

  ‘I see. No proof.’ Brand nodded. ‘Could you have made a mistake? No doubt the stable was very dark.’

  ‘There was a full moon last night,’ Godwin said. ‘I could see. And I know who I saw. He walks with a slight limp and smells of hair oil.’

  ‘Godwin,’ Edith said, kneeling down. ‘You can’t just accuse one of the Norsemen. You couldn’t be sure, not in the darkness. Brand Bjornson needs something he can hold or see with his own eyes. Did he make a mark or do something?’

  Godwin tilted his head to one side. Silently Brand urged him to remember something of significance. Godwin’s face brightened.

  ‘I do have this brooch. I found it on the floor after he went.’ Godwin dug his hand into his pocket.

  ‘May I see it?’ Brand held out his hand.

  The boy dropped it into his palm. Brand silently blessed the boy. He didn’t need to ask whose this brooch was. He had seen it enough times pinned to different cloaks, over the past ten years. He could even remember when Hrearek purchased it. He grasped it tightly, the clasp biting into his palm as surely as the betrayal bit into his soul. He wanted to shout in rage. He should have seen the difficulty weeks ago, but he had chosen to ignore the pointed remarks and the needling.

  ‘You say you have never been in the stables, Hrearek?’

  ‘He said never, my lord!’ one of Hrearek’s close friends called out. ‘It is good enough for me. A member of a felag would never lie to his leader.’

  ‘Unless he intended on challenging for the leadership,’ Brand said quietly. ‘Do any of you wish to challenge?’

  Brand waited for Hrearek to make a noise, but his sokman was silent, looking anywhere but at him. His stomach twisted. Hrearek’s hesitation sealed his fate. It had to be done, but it didn’t mean that he had to enjoy it.

  ‘What did you say the perpetrator should have happen to him, Hrearek? Refresh my memory!’

  ‘Flogged with a hundred lashes,’ Godwin supplied.

  ‘I said that she should be flogged. Aye!’ Hrearek’s eyes blazed defiantly.

  ‘Can you explain why Godwin discovered your brooch in the stables?’ Brand thrust the brooch under Hrearek’s nose.

  ‘I...I...’

  ‘You thought you’d teach me a lesson, maybe? You believed that you should be the one who had the honours, is that right? You rather than me should have become the leader of the felag after Sven’s death and should have been made an earl?’ Brand felt righteous anger surge through him. Hrearek had a few things to learn if he was going to challenge for the leadership.

  Hrearek’s tongue flicked out. ‘I don’t know what to say. You are an able leader, Brand. I would never challenge you. You know that. We go back to Constantinople.’

  A sense of disgust and disappointment filled Brand. No, he would never challenge directly. Instead he would seek to undermine his leadership with little jokes and pranks and then step in when some other man had challenged him. The treachery of it all made him sick to his stomach.

  ‘But I do!’ Brand tossed the brooch at Hrearek’s feet. ‘What is the punishment for a man who breaks his solemn oath?’

  ‘Death!’ All of his men uttered as one, rapping their swords against their shields.

  ‘Perhaps, Hrearek, I misheard you. Why were you in the stables? Or are you going to deny that brooch is yours?’

  Hrearek fell to his knees. His face showed craven cowardice and fear. ‘Please, by Thor’s hammer, I didn’t mean any harm. It was done in drink. A silly joke. I thought you’d find it amusing. I was about to say something when the lad spoke up. You must believe me.’

  He gave a hollow laugh. No one else joined in.

  ‘A joke, Brand. Don’t tell me you have lost your sense of humour!’ Hrearek made a gesture of supplication. ‘Surely you haven’t lost your famous sense of humour? I know you have played jokes before. We both have. No one was hurt. Come on, man. Lighten up.’

  Brand struggled to control his temper. He wanted to rip Hrearek’s head from his shoulders. Who did he think he was, behaving in such a fashion? But he couldn’t run the man through. He had to think of this as a game of tafl. One false move and he could lose everything.

  ‘No, you meant for me to distrust the Northumbrians. You meant for me to punish an innocent. You proclaimed the Lady Edith’s guilt and demanded a punishment of public flogging.’ Brand slammed his fists together and regained control of his temper. ‘All because you were not able to bed a woman last night. You have dishonoured the felag. That much is clear. I have no use for a warrior who cannot keep his vows and seeks to take petty revenge.’

  Hrearek went white and the men who had stood closer to him when he’d swaggered into the yard fell away as if he were diseased. Brand did not look at Edith. He owed her a debt. If she had not been so insistent, he would have punished the wrong person and would have allowed Hrearek’s malign influence to grow and spread.

  ‘In light of our past, Hrearek, I will be merciful this time. I will allow Lady Edith to decide your punishment as you were so quick to implicate her.’

  Hrearek raised himself to standing. A faint light gleamed in his eye. ‘Merciful?’

  ‘Do you wish to challenge for the leadership?’

  Hrearek’s tongue flicked over his lips. He glanced to his right and left and saw how alone he was. ‘No. I have no wish to fight you, Brand Bjornson. Ever. You have saved my life too many times. It won’t happen again. Spare my life, I beg you, in view of our long past together.’

 
Brand bowed towards Edith. He gave a half-smile. Lady Edith fancied that she knew how to run an estate. That assertion deserved to be tested. Did she possess the nerve required to deal with men such as Hrearek? ‘What say you, Lady? Shall I put this man to death as my custom demands?’

  He waited and hoped that he had the measure of the woman.

  Slowly she shook her head. ‘Death should be for something far less trivial. You say he is an able warrior?’

  ‘One of Halfdan’s best. He has fought long and hard. His timely warning prevented the rebels from gaining the upper hand when they broke the truce.’

  She nodded as if she understood his predicament. Silently he willed her to make the right choice.

  ‘Then he should be sent back to Halfdan with your compliments. Halfdan must judge.’

  Hrearek fell to his knees. ‘May the gods bless you, Lady.’

  Brand regarded Edith with faint astonishment. He’d expected her to ask for the man to be flogged and bear the same punishment that Hrearek had planned for her. Getting rid of Hrearek solved a number of problems.

  ‘Bind him. Take him to Jorvik and Halfdan. He can be his problem and not mine. I will keep this part of North Riding peaceful. The Lady Edith has spoken and I concur with her request. Hrearek is far too valuable of a warrior.’

  The men obeyed his order instantly and Hrearek was led off. Brand chose two of the men whom he considered were not overly friendly with Hrearek to provide escort duty. They obeyed instantly.

  Some of the tension in Brand’s shoulders eased as the yard emptied of people. Hrearek had not terminally damaged his leadership, but he was not going to allow anything or anyone else to interfere. He’d take over Hrearek’s job of training the men himself until he could decide on the best man for the position.

  He glanced over to where Edith stood, her dark red lips softly parted. A light breeze moulded her gown to her curves. No one was going to distract him. Lady Edith was a headache which would have to wait. Without acknowledging her, he walked into the hall to begin the tedious process of finding where the accounts had been altered.