“Come straight back once you've set the snares.”
“You have my word.”
He nodded, then sank to the ground near the fire again.
Ealasaid and Birgir came toward the fire. Idunna met them half way. “Let's set a couple of snares, Birgir. We can feast this afternoon.”
“Can I go with Aunt Indunna, Ma?” He turned big blue eyes on his mother.
“If you promise to listen to her. I wouldn't mind a nice fat piece of rabbit.” Ealasaid rubbed her stomach. “Supper seems long ago.”
“I forgot to get a knife from your uncle. Run and fetch one.” Idunna patted the boy's shoulder.
He left with more energy than she had to spare. The young were often that way, eager even in the face of a dire situation.
“Eoghann is exhausted.”
“Pity him with the wretched duty of escorting two headstrong women, a boy and a babe across Northumbria.” Ealasaid's brow creased as she glanced toward her brother. “Is something troubling you?”
“Do you believe him?”
Ealasaid's mouth opened, then closed again with a snap. She cradled Fulla's body closer. “You think he's led us away. For what purpose?”
“I don't think it now, but when he first arrived in Solstad, I wondered briefly if he wasn't trying to escape.” Ashamed, she twisted the rope in her hands and avoided Ealasaid's gaze. “He's angry with me about it. Told me I could stay behind if I didn't believe him.”
“If he says Hella gave him the order to take us away from Solstad, I believe him. I would rather remain with the Scots than ride to Suibhne, but he's right, we may be safer where no one knows our location. Eoghann is honorable. He wouldn't go against Hella's orders.” Ealasaid nodded at him. “You cannot blame him for feeling hurt that you distrusted him in a moment of urgency.”
“I know he cares for me and that he pledged to follow Hella, but even good men break vows.” Ask had, by never taking her as his proper wife. He had been a good man, but they'd lived a lie.
“He does care for you. I saw it the day he rode to Ofan. He regretted leaving you. It's good that you came with us. I couldn't bear to see my brother heartbroken.”
“I should apologize for thinking him mad.” She squeezed the rope around her hand. “There is no excuse for my behavior.”
“He will forgive you. Give him time. So much has happened the last few days. His mind must be overcrowded with troublesome thoughts.” Ealasaid smiled, though it was a little strained. “We shall see our home again soon enough. Let Hella sort out this disorder with Ofan. He'll come riding to Suibhne and bring us back. I do miss him. Be grateful Eoghann is by your side once again.”
“I am.” Idunna forced a smile as Birgir trotted to her, holding up the short knife. “Come on. Let's do your father proud.”
If they'd had a bow and arrow, they might catch their quarry easier, but they would have to do what they could. Her stomach growled in anticipation of a warm meal. Bread would hold her over—rabbit would taste better.
Then she could rest and prepare a better apology to Eoghann. If he would forgive her.
Chapter Ten
One hare, old and stringy, hadn't stretched far between four people. Out of all of them, Eoghann worried most for Fulla, who was too young to eat properly. The thin broth Ealasaid made for her from the rabbit's bones didn't seem to ease the girl's hunger any more than the tough meat satisfied the rest of them.
Thank the Holy trinity and all the Norse gods for Scots willing to take the gold off his hands in exchange for food. Ealasaid wasted no time ordering him to find a producing goat so she could feed Fulla. He paid more for the nanny than it was worth, but its bag was full and the baby's sad whimpers eased as she greedily nursed from the soft flannel soaked in milk.
He almost regretted leading the women and Birgir away from the Scot settlement of Dawerk. Thankfully, none of the people had asked his business traveling through their village or what lay on the other side of it. Gold was a handy thing to have. One flash of it and he all but owned the world.
If only his wife would stop staring at him as though he'd lost his mind. Every attempt to ignore her off behavior made her seem more anxious to please him.
“Two days to Suibhne, Eoghann?” Idunna pushed her horse up to ride next to him.
“At this pace, aye, two.” If there was a way to cut through the woods, perhaps they'd find a shorter route. He wasn't about to attempt it with two women and two children.
“I worry about what we will find there.”
More like what they wouldn't find. Shelter meant the difference between life and death during cold weather. Sleeping on the road, huddled near one another and the fire left them all weary and longing for the comforts of Solstad Hall.
“I cannot say,” he answered. “Once it was a magnificent place of stone and wood. Much of the settlement burned when the vikingrs came. Whether anything stands, I don't recall.” Perhaps everything had burned. His memories of the days following the raid were dim.
Diarmaid meant to burn Solstad to the ground, then retake Suibhne and return it to its former glory. As far as Eoghann knew, no people gathered there anymore, but the land had been rich enough to graze cattle and sheep while supporting crops as well. With a Scottish camp only two days away, they could remain well-fed until Hella arrived. If one of them took ill after the arduous trip, it might not be easy to treat them. Ealasaid hadn't brought more than a few dried herbs that might help cuts or bruises. Winter was a poor time to make such a trip, but Hella hadn't given him much choice.
Eoghann no more wanted to go there than Ealasaid did. Though not haunted or cursed, the place held nothing for him but bad memories of the days following Ingvar's raid. He should never have suggested Suibhne, but he hadn't expected Hella to agree. They'd come upon desperate times.
“Do you suppose wolves still roam around Suibhne?” Ealasaid gazed at the road, but it was clear her thoughts lurked in their lost village.
“Pray they don't. I've no wish to fight off wolves.” No wish to draw the heavy sword tied to his pommel against man or beast.
“There were fewer attacks that last spring. I think the Kentigern must have driven most of them away after he slayed the rogue.” Ealasaid touched her shoulder where the silver wolf pelt their father had given her once hung.
“Why do you call him the Kentigern, not father?” Idunna glanced between them.
Eoghann shrugged. “It means the chief. There was no one higher or more lordly than he in our settlement. When we spoke to him, we called him Da, but he was the most important man in our clan. Everyone showed him respect.”
Idunna tilted her head. “But he was not a king.”
“His title didn't matter. People obeyed him because he was a stern and dedicated ruler, but he showed fairness where it was warranted. He followed the rules of the Danelaw so he wouldn't be slaughtered. Ingvar believed he violated the terms of the agreements our people kept with the Norsemen when he taxed them on goods as they passed down the river.” The first several years after the raid, he'd dreamed of it often. While Diarmaid stewed with rage, Eoghann slowly made peace with the idea that he would never return to his home north of Edinburgh. Until Diarmaid's deal with Cuthberht to sack the vikingr villages and reclaim his homeland. Even then, it seemed like nothing more than a dream.
“How did he die?” As soon as the words came out, Idunna looked as though she wished she hadn't asked.
“Ingvar cut his throat.” Ealasaid's face pinched and her hands balled. “He stood right before me without any mercy and killed my father.”
He hadn't known. Eoghann's stomach churned as he imagined Ealasaid's horror. “His body burned in the fire that claimed our hall after the fight. His and the others who fell that night. Many brave men died on vikingr blades. We were unprepared for such an act.”
“I'm sorry.” Idunna's face reddened and she ducked her head. “Norsemen are fierce in battle, but there is no excuse for what Ingvar did.”
“I
hope Hel is full of punishment for all his acts against the unsuspecting people he killed.” Bitterness filled Ealasaid's voice. “For the trouble he wrought on me and mine.”
“Such sentiments are a waste, sister. There's nothing to gain from wishing him ill in the afterlife.” Eoghann straightened in his saddle. “If wolves remain near Suibhne, I will kill them. There will be nothing to fear while we stay there.”
His traveling companions didn't seem reassured. Weariness hung on them like tattered rags and they wore a layer of road grime. Despite his vow to Hella, the nagging doubt that he should have allowed them to stay with the Scots persisted.
Two days more, and by then, perhaps Hella would have captured the man or people who intended to dethrone him. Or perhaps Eoghann had left his king to die and led his family to their own deaths.
“What was it like when you were my age?” Birgir glanced between his mother and Eoghann. “Similar to Solstad?”
Ealasaid grinned. “Rotten with aos si, wasn't it, Eoghann? They do not heed the laws of man, only those of Tír na nÓg. Our nursemaid Kirsteen told of the Otherworld and the fae who came above ground to trick humans.”
Remembering those stories eased his worry. “Kirsteen often said your ma was a changeling, dropped off on the Kentigern's doorstep. They made off with his real daughter who was too sweet and good for our world. I half believed her.”
“Aos si don't exist.” Birgir scoffed. “It's only stories.”
Eoghann shook his head. “Don't let them catch you saying it. You'll wake up one day without your ears or your toes. The fae will slip in during the night and you'll pay the price.” He winked at the boy. “The Kentigern's people were of Germania blood and some Galla, but Ma and Kirsteen's were Ulaid and Scots. They regarded the aos si as one would respect a neighbor. I don't recall many of the stories, but I heeded Kirsteen's warnings of the fae seriously. Don't fiddle about on their land, don't enter into wagers with them. Never eat anything they offer. Leave them be. But your ma, she couldn't keep her nose from their business when she believed the fae were about.”
“Brought me trouble too, did they not?” Ealasaid muttered.
“The outcome could not have been much different. The Bloody Raven came to Suibnhe with intentions of slaying the Kentigern and enslaving or killing his people. Had we not been on the hillside that night, doubtless we'd be in the same position.” Or dead.
“Perhaps.” Ealasaid rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “I do not often think of what might have been. There's no use. As you said, why wish ill on a dead king? Why wonder how things might be different had we not attempted to warn the Kentigern?”
“It was a long time ago. There's nothing we can change about it. My only regret is not knowing how our other sisters fared. Keavy, Neila, and Aileen. Killed or taken, I wonder.” He shook his head. Sometimes it was best to remember a person as they were, rather than what they'd become. Diarmaid's memory made a prime example.
“At peace, if there's any mercy in the world.” Sadness and hope mingled across her face.
His longing for peace lingered, but the chances seemed desperately thin. It is more important to get safely through tonight than worry about distant peace.
* * * *
“Is that smoke?” Ealasaid nudged Eoghann.
Dark tendrils wafted up over the tree tops, hazy against the gray sky. Eoghann reined his horse to a stop. It was a fair distance from them, giving them the option to rest here and wait for it to fade if danger lurked. “Aye. Campfire, most likely.”
“Do you supposed it's on or off the road?” Ealasaid wrapped one arm around the baby asleep in her sling.
“I wouldn't venture to guess since so many crooks and bends exist between it and us.”
“What shall we do?” Idunna chewed her fingernail as she studied the smoke.
“Remain here while I ride ahead. It might be other travelers. I doubt it's a village. Not enough smoke for that.” Eoghann unlashed the scabbard from the saddle, then tied it around his waist. He laid his hand on his sword pommel. “Do not follow me. If it's safe, I'll return for you.”
“If it's not?” Idunna's face paled.
“Ealasaid knows the way. Stay hidden until dark and well away from the strangers. If they hear the horses or goat, they'll come looking for you.” Dread knotted his stomach. “Proceed with caution to Suibhne and do not venture away until the supplies run low or Hella comes.”
“Eoghann, you can't leave us.” Idunna grasped his arm. “If something happens...”
They'd all die.
“Don't fret. I don't intend to alert them.” He cupped her cheek. “Be brave and wait here. Birgir, take care of the women.”
“All right.” The boy's voice sounded small. “Be quick.”
Eoghann didn't linger with farewells. Giving his horse a nudge in the ribs, he let it canter down the road. Its hooves on the hard-packed earth would give him away before he reached the fireside.
It seemed unlikely that vikingrs had lit the fire. Too few bands existed this far north. Picts or Britons were the most obvious groups. The Scots hadn't mentioned any of their own out here either.
As he drew closer, his skin prickled less from cold than the eerie feeling someone watched, hidden among the trees. He was far too old to be frightened of the aos si, but he laid his hand on his pommel again. Humans had done him more harm than made up fairies ever could.
A sharp crack in the woods on his left made him sit up straighter. From the corner of his eye, a blur moved in front of him, then struck his chest. Before he could draw another breath, he hit the ground. He landed on his wounded shoulder and the wind rushed from him. The agony of pain dulled his other sense for a moment.
The frightened horse galloped away.
“Do nae move.”
In too much pain to do more than open his eyes, he focused on a spear pointed at his face.
“Who are ye?” The boy holding the spear was somewhere in age between Birgir and Erland and twice as filthy as a Norseman after the fighting in Ofan. His dark eyes glinted under unkempt red hair. “What are ye doin' here? What is it ye want?”
“Eoghann Kentigern,” he ground out. “I seek shelter in Suibhne.”
Overhead, a thick log held up by rope swung between tree branches—the object that had stolen the horse from beneath him.
The boy scoffed, then spat beside Eoghann's head. “The Kentigerns are dead and Suibhne burned ta the ground before I was born. The real Eoghann Kentigern would know that—if he were alive.” He jabbed the spear into the chainmail covering Eoghann's chest. “Tell me yer name, true this time, and maybe I will nae kill ye.”
“There's no need to kill me. You scared my horse away. He carries all my valuables.” The gold tied on the inside of his cloak pressed against his rib cage. “If you catch him, you'll earn your reward. I am useless to you.”
The boy used the spear to flip the edge of Eoghann's cloak away from his body. “That's a mighty fine sword. Big and handsome. Seems the horse didn't get away with everything of value. Saxon, aren't ye? Braggin' on the gold ye possess.” He rubbed his chin. “Usin' the Kentigern name as though ye expect it ta impress me. I reckon ye well know this was Kentigern land. They're dead, friend. Ever' last one. Ye've bandied about a name that will nae get ye any help here.”
“The Christian god as my witness, I am Eoghann Kentigern, youngest son of Cairbre Kentigern, born the worst winter in fifty in the old hall that stood above the river. My sister Ealasaid is a Norse queen, wife of Hella Ingvasson, known to his enemies as the Hound of Solstad.”
“Is that so? Well, perhaps her majesty can vouch for ye.” The boy pressed his lips together and made a farting noise. “Tah, I do nae see the fair lady. Terrible spot of luck for ye, sir.” He laughed. “The Kentigern's daughter, married tae a Dane? Madness. Norsemen slayed her father, ye fool.”
“Lower that spear, boy, and let him up.” Ealasaid's command came from behind Eoghann.
“For fuck's sake, I told you to s
tay hidden.” He tilted his neck to look at her. “Hella will have my head if you get killed.”
“Quiet, Eoghann.” Ealasaid came closer. “Give me the weapon.”
The boy's gaze shifted between them. “Ye're nae who ye say. 'Tis nae possible. The Kentigerns—”
“Are mostly dead, aye. Until a few weeks ago, Diarmaid lived as well, but he met his end when he chose battle over peace with the Norsemen who rule Solstad and its neighboring villages. We don't know if our sisters live, but we are Kentigern stock.” Ealasaid squared her shoulders. “Who are you?”
“Leofric Boldarm.” The boy narrowed muddy brown eyes. “Why should I trust ye? After all this time gone from Suibhne, why would two stragglers such as yerselves wander in tae claim it?”
“Because it's ours to take by blood right. Because there are Norsemen who would kill me and my son, wipe my husband's lineage from the world, and likely kill my brother and his wife as well for good measure. Now, Leofric, give me your spear. Eoghann, get up.”
Leofric planted the butt of the shaft in the ground. “Great-grandmother said the chief's daughter possessed a wicked tongue.”
Eoghann climbed to his feet, nursing the ache in his shoulder as he rose to his full height. “Who is your great-grandmother?”
“Blanid the midwife. She's blind, toothless, and shakes like a leaf in a storm, but she loves stories of the Kentigern's children. I've heard 'em so much, I can recite 'em all.”
“Blanid.” Ealasaid whispered the name and smiled. “Still alive. It's unbelievable.”
“It's the truth.” Leofric folded his arms. “She'll know if ye're really Ealasaid. Ye've got nae choice. Either come with me or I'll have tae kill ye both.”
“You're outnumbered, boy.” Idunna rode out of the trees with a drawn knife. “One flick of the wrist and you're dead.”
“By ye? A wee sprite? Doesn't seem—”
The knife landed at the toe of his shoe, point embedded in the ground.
Another appeared in Idunna's hand. “Do not mock me.”
“She does nae have the look of a Kentigern about her. Her accent's all wrong.” Leofric swallowed. “A vikingr woman sure enough.”
Her Heart's Desire Page 9
