Cyn leant into his shoulder. ‘It is a betrothal which could unite two peoples or tear them apart. I agreed with Icebeard that we both had to exercise caution.’
Haddr gaped. ‘So Lady Cynehild’s laying of her husband’s sword was a diversionary tactic? But you mocked her for it, my lord. Said she likely had something else in mind and you weren’t inclined to give the meddlesome grieving widow anything!’
‘I wished to keep our betrothal a secret until the moment was right. Why should I spoil the wagering—particularly as everyone was going to lose?’
Kal frowned. He’d mocked Lady Cynehild? So he had been arrogant. But he couldn’t rid himself of the notion that her desire to lay the sword hid another motive. Haddr had hit on the crux of the problem—his own actions seemed out of the ordinary.
‘I’m learning all your secrets, Kal. Mocking me now?’
Cynehild’s light voice brought him back. He captured her fingers and raised them to his lips. ‘The mockery was before I encountered you, my lady, and I shall regret it until the day I die.’
She withdrew her fingers. ‘I will hold you to your word.’
‘Thank you.’ Kal glared at Haddr. ‘Next time, believe your mother-in-law.’
‘I have served with you and Alff since Basceng. You’ve never had time for women beyond the bedroom. You prefer them with soft thighs and quiet tongues.’
Kal glared at him. ‘I never wanted to marry any of the women who graced my bed in the past. Lady Cynehild will be my wife. I trust you understand the difference?’
Haddr gulped and muttered his apologies.
‘What will you tell my daughter?’ Luba jabbed a bony finger at Haddr. ‘To stop getting strange notions in her head and that her mother’s words should be trusted like they always were before?’
Haddr shuffled his feet. ‘My bride made a mistake. I will be the one to inform her. But by Thor’s hammer, I don’t relish the prospect.’
‘You must trust your mother-in-law in future. Your Jaarl commands it.’
At Haddr’s distressed face, Kal felt the laugh which had been building inside him boom out, faintly rusty, as if he had rarely laughed before now. Cynehild joined in, as did Luba. And after a few breaths Haddr also laughed, but with far less enthusiasm.
‘I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you laugh in this country, Icebeard.’
‘You see what being betrothed has done for me?’ Kal pulled Cynehild tighter against his body. Her curves seemed to fit naturally against him. ‘I used to laugh a lot, Haddr.’
‘My bride said—’
‘Your wife is wrong. Twice in one day. I suspect that it will do her good when you inform her of this fact.’
Cynehild put her head on his chest and appeared to be the picture of a contented and devoted woman, but Kal caught the flash of fire in her eyes and the faint snort of another barely suppressed laugh.
‘Very wrong indeed.’
Haddr’s frown increased. ‘I’ve never known you to run from a fight. You live the way you want and force others to accept it.’
Kal stiffened. ‘Which fight am I running from? Who seeks to challenge me? You can’t leave it there, Haddr.’
Haddr tugged at the neck of his tunic. ‘I merely meant you taking a wife. Yes, your cousin will be less than impressed that it is a Saxon woman, but you don’t care about his opinion...not really.’
‘My cousin has no say over who I marry.’ Kal took his arm from about Cynehild’s shoulders.
‘Kal kept it secret for my sake and mine alone.’ Cynehild stepped forward. ‘I, for one, am very grateful. Can you imagine how it would have looked if we’d failed to suit? The harm which would have been caused between Danes and Mercians? Kal has been more than gracious in granting my request. It is hardly his fault if people ignore his message.’
‘Everyone who works the land will be very happy,’ Luba said, coming to stand by her son-in-law. ‘My lady was well liked when she last lived here.’ She sniffed. ‘Unlike some I could mention... Her lord could be overly proud, but then he wasn’t a great warrior—not like Jaarl Icebeard.’
‘Luba—one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,’ Cynehild rebuked.
‘My lady, I beg your pardon, but one must state the truth. You may have idealised Lord Leofwine, but I certainly did not. I wiped his bottom when he was a baby.’
Kal inclined his head, trying not to wince at the sudden rush of pain as he did so. A tiny piece of him rejoiced that Cyn’s late husband appeared far from universally loved. ‘There are reasons why I am the Jaarl, Haddr. An advantageous match will assist me in holding these lands.’
Something akin to annoyance flashed across Haddr’s face but was quickly masked. He gave a cheeky smile and looped an arm about his mother-in-law. ‘I agree, My Jaarl. I had the honour of serving with you on the battlefield. Your sword skills were more than a match for all your opponents.’
His sword had once matched any on the battlefield, but now Kal knew he’d struggle to take even the simplest of food to his mouth.
How long could he last as a leader of men if he made mistakes with his sword? He knew he wanted peace, but he had to be able to defend his lands or they would soon be overrun.
Kal made a sweeping gesture with his hand. ‘This is my way of ensuring that everyone is satisfied.’
‘Through disappearing for a few days? You have frightened everyone. Your cousin is particularly certain that you have come to harm.’
Tyrant. The word hammered in his brain while Kal sought in vain to recall what Alff looked like.
‘My cousin sees shadows where there are none.’
‘You have always confided in him before. Never were there two cousins closer than you and Alff.’
‘My message must have been lost or not passed on.’ Kal gave a careful shrug and hoped Haddr would accept the excuse.
His cousin... Alff. He frowned and tried to grasp wisps of shadow. A large man, with a booming voice and even quicker temper, but one who had been steadfast in the line.
‘It is possible. Alff has been unwell in recent days,’ Haddr said.
‘How unwell?’ Cynehild asked.
‘He has suffered from a fever and has taken to his bed. Jaarl Icebeard teased him about it before he disappeared...asked him why he was sulking like a woman.’
Kal exchanged glances with Cynehild. Not only had he been hit over the head, but his cousin, the man he was supposed to be so close to, had been seriously ill.
‘Sulking like a woman?’ Cynehild said drily. ‘His fever could explain why he has forgotten to pass on the message, though.’
‘It was just banter, my lady,’ Haddr said before Kal could open his mouth. ‘They always trade insults—particularly in the practice yard.’
‘I see.’
Kal shifted uncomfortably. Alff had not deserved teasing if he’d truly been ill. ‘My reasoning holds true whatever the state of my cousin’s health. My estate can handle a few more days without me. I plan to be otherwise occupied.’
This time he managed to plant a kiss on the corner of Cyn’s mouth. She started to turn her head away, but he gave a warning frown. Immediately she snaked an arm about his neck and allowed him to capture her lips properly.
He lingered, enjoying the way her mouth slotted against his. She moaned slightly. He let her go and stepped back. His body thrummed, seeming to waken from a long winter’s sleep. Her eyes had darkened with passion and her fingers instinctively lifted to explore her swollen mouth. He struggled to bring his breathing back under control.
Luba wore a self-satisfied smile and tugged at her son-in-law’s arm. ‘Seen enough?’
‘I believe your experiment is a great success,’ Haddr called out. ‘These lands will be a safer place once you are wed. You need an heir.’
‘Taking things slowly remains the best course,’ Cynehild said, drow
ning our Haddr’s words. Her chest rapidly rose and fell. ‘Caution before all else.’
Kal went over to Haddr and put an arm about the younger man’s shoulders. ‘You see what I must contend with?’
Haddr stepped away and bowed low. ‘I understand now, my lord.’
Luba tugged harder at Haddr’s sleeve. ‘Those two wish to be alone. My lady, it is well that you took a notion to stop at my humble abode. Who knows what rumours could have been flying about as the message has gone missing? I’m sure that Haddr will keep your secret, Jaarl Icebeard.’
‘Your men are loyal to you, My Jaarl. But Alff is terribly anxious about you. Surely you will permit me to—’
‘No,’ Cynehild said, laying her head against Kal’s chest again. ‘You gave me your word, Icebeard. We will see this through and make sure we are compatible before announcing our union to the world. We must have a few more days.’
‘Anyone with eyes can see you are compatible,’ Haddr said with a laugh. ‘I look forward to wagering on this.’
‘No, the Lady Cynehild is skittish about such things...’ Kal winced as the black pain raised its ugly head again. The scene swam in front of him. He leant on Cyn, and although she staggered a little under his sudden weight she managed to keep him upright.
‘It might end my run of bad luck,’ Haddr wheedled.
‘Leave now. Keep silent and you will be rewarded in due course,’ Cynehild said in a firm tone.
‘My mother-in-law’s new shawl is very fine...’ His gaze flickered over Cynehild as if he were weighing up whether she would be a good match for His Jaarl or not. His lip curled slightly. ‘If this is how you wish to proceed, my lord, then who am I to deny you?’
‘Who are you, indeed?’ Kal answered.
Haddr walked away arm in arm with Luba. Luba’s voice, arguing that he should show more respect and that this match was in their interests, could be heard even after they had disappeared from view.
Kal released a long breath and stumbled to a stone bench. Haddr had appeared to believe the ruse, even if he was not entirely happy with it. But how much longer did they have until he was unable to resist telling the secret?
* * *
Cynehild put her hands on her hips as she returned from conferring with her men. The low moan from the bench in the sunlight demonstrated that Kal’s confrontation had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit. He was worse than Wulfgar in many ways, insisting that he was fine when he was clearly not.
‘Back to bed with you, Kal.’
‘My lady’s wish...’ He attempted a bow but went off balance again.
She rapidly came to his side and caught his bulk before he crashed to ground. His lips turned upwards.
‘Arm about my shoulders. Hang on to me,’ she gasped.
‘Who could ask for a better nurse?’
‘Why, because I fail to get cross with you when you do something stupid, like taking off your bandage?’
‘That and you have the most amazing eyes.’ A dimple played in the corner of his cheek. ‘Made you blush.’
‘Allow me to do my job.’
She led him back into the cottage, sat him at the table and started to examine his head. Despite the removal of the bandage, the wound remained scabbed over. If he wore his hair differently it would be possible to cover the wound and no one would guess about his injury.
All the while she attempted to ignore the pulse in his throat and the way his eyelashes swept down over his eyes. ‘I wish Father Oswald, the priest from Baelle Heale, was here. He’d find a way to make you behave. You need bed rest for days, not a few hours.’
Kal sat up straight. ‘We don’t have days, Cyn. Haddr possesses an uncanny inability to keep his mouth shut when asked a direct question.’
‘Your memory is still flawed.’
‘I have remembered that about him. There was also something important about his marriage to Luba’s daughter. It will come to me...’
Cynehild busied herself with tidying the already tidy cottage. All the flaws in her plan were becoming self-evident. No doubt everyone in her family, particularly her father, would be delighted to tell her of the mistakes she’d made if she ever returned to Baelle Heale. She should have stuck to women’s tasks. Except it was too late for regrets. She had to go forward with the plan and hope it would be successful.
‘I suppose the time we have depends on the questions he’s asked? I thought we gave a pretty good impression of being betrothed.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it.’
She bustled about with the fire and put more grain on to soak. Little jobs, but they restored some small measure of calm.
‘Should we move?’ she asked finally, hating the quaver in her voice. ‘Back to the cave?’
‘How will your Brother Palni and these fabled men find us then?’ His tone of voice echoed the sort she used with Wulfgar when he woke from a bad dream. ‘A panicked reaction never solves anything. We can account for my injury if necessary. What is truly troubling you?’
‘Our story is easy—you were on the way to meet me and were attacked. We decided this was the best course to follow. We keep to the story we gave Haddr if it comes to it.’ Cynehild gave a decisive nod, altering the subject and not answering his question.
‘Haddr did not appear that surprised.’ Kal held out his hand. ‘Can you get me a knife? A block of wood?’
‘What for? We are having porridge. You should be resting.’
‘I will need to be able to swing a sword with some degree of accuracy sooner rather than later.’
‘But what does a block of wood and a knife have to do with anything?’
‘I want to carve,’ he said. ‘Last night I struggled to get a spoon to my mouth. How can I command men in battle if I can’t feed myself? My late wife said I was a genius at working with wood, and that was why she first noticed me. Keeping my hands busy will help me to think. Like you and your spinning. You do it because you are battling your demons.’
‘I don’t have demons.’
‘Your hands are rarely still. I suspect your demons may be winning.’
Her throat clenched. He’d noticed. ‘I can control them...when I spin. I miss my son, among other things.’
‘And I can control mine if I carve.’
His quiet words filled the room, but Cynehild saw the stillness with which he held his body. ‘Your lack of coordination will be to do with your head injury. Your skill will return.’
‘If I have to fight, then I need to practise. You refuse to let me stand. Allow me to do this. Please.’
His words made her insides twist. What harm could carving do?
She left the cottage and returned with a block of wood and a small knife.
‘Outside. Being in here reminds me of a tomb,’ he said.
‘We have a roof over our heads, and it might rain.’
‘My eyesight will be better outside. And it isn’t raining yet.’ He went outside and sat down on the low stone bench in front of the cottage. ‘Join me with your spinning? Unless you have something else to be doing?’
Cynehild opened her mouth to explain about her other chores, but the words died on her lips. ‘It seems the best way to ensure you don’t get into mischief.’
A soft huff of a laugh escaped his chest. He gently nudged her shoulder. ‘I thought you liked spending time with me.’
‘Are you planning on carving anything special?’
‘I need to get my eye in. I thought to make something for your boy. A horse. Little boys like horses, and they like it when their mothers return to them with a gift.’
He made a swipe with his knife, missed the wood and cursed.
Cynehild’s eyes opened wide at the unexpected answer. It would be easy to start liking Kal, but it would be a mistake. They were enemies and had to remain that way. Except she knew t
hat wasn’t quite true—not any longer. At some time over the last days he had become something more than an enemy—not yet a friend, but someone she could like.
‘For Wulfgar? Why?’
‘I want to thank you for not flinching away from me earlier, when Haddr was here. You played the part of besotted bride-to-be very well.’ His eyes deepened to dark pools. ‘Our rehearsal last night clearly worked.’
Cynehild bent her head and pretended an interest in her spinning wheel. He was making something for Wulfgar. She wished Wulfgar was here with her, so that he could meet the man who’d made it.
‘I knew what was needed. You are right not to fully trust anyone.’
He made another swipe with his knife. This time it connected with wood. A long spiral curled off the block and fell to his feet. ‘Does that include you?’ he asked.
‘I certainly mean you no harm,’ she answered, turning her head away from his intense gaze.
The gold hidden in the church belonged to Wulfgar. She wasn’t robbing someone she liked; she was liberating something which rightfully belonged to her son. And she would confess to Kal what she’d done—but not just yet. She couldn’t risk spoiling something which had somehow become precious to her.
‘No harm at all,’ she said.
‘I will take that for now.’
Chapter Eight
‘We agreed to rest after you had managed to get the horse’s outline done.’
Cynehild had returned to the cottage after ensuring her men were settled for the night to find Kal had made another makeshift pallet on the floor of the cottage out of straw, a cloak and some of the furs.
His smile caused her breath to hitch and her blood to warm. She put a hand to her temple and concentrated. She’d worked it out earlier, after she’d seen to her men. Her reaction to him was simply because they were around each other all the time and she was unused to men flirting with her.
Her men mainly stayed in the barn, guarding the covered cart and enjoying the break from travelling. None of them wanted to deal with an irritable Deniscan, but after some persuasion they had volunteered to be his sparring partners in the coming days.
Betrothed to the Enemy Viking Page 12
