‘Daughter! My daughter! You have returned,’ her father said in a reedy voice from where he lay in his chamber. The maid curtsied and left the room when they entered. Her father’s hand plucked at the coverlet. ‘They said you were dead and took me to your funeral. Mhairi said that I’d only be upset if I saw your body. But when I laid my head on that coffin, I knew in my heart you were alive and would return to take your rightful place as the Lady of Dun Ollaigh. I don’t know where the thought came from, but I have clung to it with all the strength in my body that I would live to see you again and be able to ask your pardon for marrying a woman like your stepmother.’
Ceanna went immediately to him and covered his hand and his fingers tightened about hers. The last time she had touched him he could barely curl his fingers. This time the response was far stronger. ‘I returned, Father, with my husband. We have rescued you.’
She gestured towards where Sandulf stood, watching with wary eyes. If anything, he seemed further away than ever, as if somehow he was looking for an excuse to go.
Something of her father’s old fierceness returned. ‘You are married to a Northman? How can this be? A man from the North as my daughter’s choice? That does beat everything!’
‘With my aunt’s blessing.’ Ceanna kept tight hold of his hand and rapidly told the tale. She silently prayed that he would refrain from making any horrible remarks about men from the North.
Her father muttered, ‘If he is truly your choice, I will be content.’
‘We uncovered a plot against Dun Ollaigh and your life,’ Sandulf said in a quiet voice. ‘Your captain of the guards plotted with your wife to seize control. It’s possible the plan was hatched before you even married her.’
Her father closed his eyes and was silent for a long time. Ceanna wondered if he had fallen asleep or if it was just all too much for him to take in. ‘I overheard them talking a few days ago when they thought I was asleep. I half-hoped I had dreamt it, but I knew in my heart I’ve been a foolish, selfish man who allowed a viper to enter my home and poison my family. I thought I’d lost my beloved child. I’m not dreaming you are here, am I? You are here, Daughter, aren’t you? I wanted to beg your forgiveness. To say how much I love you.’
His hand tightened about hers again.
Ceanna blinked away tears. Her father believed her. ‘I’m real, I’m alive and I’m here. And you are going to get better. I met a healer on my travels—Mother Mildreth. She will come and look after you, I am certain of it, particularly because I believe she is the estranged sister of the tavern keeper’s wife. I will send a messenger tonight.’
Her father collapsed back against the pillows and gave a tremulous smile. ‘I have barely been able to eat since you were supposedly killed and my mind seems less fuzzy as a result.’
‘I believe you were being poisoned. I also believe my stepmother poisoned a priest at St Fillans. My aunt...’
‘Abbe always wanted to shape the world the way she wanted it. Mhairi was her project. I was a lonely fool.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Sit with me. Please.’
After they had discussed a few things and her father had drifted off, Ceanna remembered about her other task and summoned the maidservants back into the chamber.
‘Feradach’s brother, the false monk, had two children in his care. Has anyone seen them?’ Ceanna asked.
‘They are safe in Dun Ollaigh,’ one of the maidservants said. ‘One of them keeps crying and asking to return to court. Brother Mattios—’
‘Go and get the children, please, and bring them to the hall.’
‘You are back to stay,’ her father murmured as he awoke. ‘We will have a feast to celebrate your marriage. I assume Northmen feast the same as us.’
Ceanna noticed Sandulf’s face become thunderous. ‘No need for a feast, Father,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Sandulf and I have much to do. Much to put right.’
‘Dun Ollaigh needs you, Ceanna. When you were gone, everything went wrong. It will all be right now that you are home and have your husband by your side.’
Ceanna brushed her lips against his forehead. ‘Try to rest.’
The maidservant rushed back in. ‘My lady! Your stepmother!’
Ceanna put her finger to her lips and motioned towards where her father lay. The woman nodded and followed Ceanna and Sandulf out of the chamber.
‘What is the problem with my stepmother? Has she tried to escape?’
‘The Lady Mhairi is dead!’
Ceanna staggered backwards. It was only Sandulf’s reassuring bulk which kept her from falling. ‘How?’
‘Lady Mhairi kept the herbs for preparing your father’s medicine in her chamber. When I went in to ask about the children’s exact whereabouts, I found her with a goblet by her side and her box of herbs open and empty. Dead.’ The maid’s words ended with a little gasp.
Ceanna put an arm about the maid. Her stepmother had taken the easy way out. She would not have to answer for her crimes or face awkward questions about what she knew. Ceanna knew she should feel sad for the woman who had been married to her father, but all she could feel was a sense of relief. ‘It is good you came to me.’
‘His lordship?’
‘His lordship will be informed when he wakes,’ Sandulf said before she could think up a suitable response. She gave him a grateful look. ‘He needs to rest. He has had enough shocks for today.’
The maid curtsied while another rushed in to say that the royal boys were eating apples in the kitchen orchard. Ceanna issued orders that they were to finish their food and then be brought before her, and that messengers needed to be dispatched to find Mother Mildreth and to inform her aunt of what had happened.
‘Are you all right?’ Sandulf asked in the sudden quiet. ‘You had barely any sleep last night and now you are dealing with all of this.’
Ceanna looped a strand of hair about her ear. ‘Me? I’m completely fine. I thrive on activity.’
Sandulf pulled her into the circle of his arms. With a shudder, she burrowed against his chest and allowed herself to draw strength for a long heartbeat. His arms fell away. ‘It’s not an admission of defeat to admit you need help, Ceanna.’
She stood there, trembling, then she pushed away.
‘I have recovered,’ she said with pinched white lips. ‘We need to get those boys safely away from this kingdom. They need to go to Éireann where they were supposed to go in the first place. I have to put things right, Sandulf, before the King’s Regent finds out what has happened.’
Sandulf’s heart thudded. He had known he’d cared about her, but seeing her like this made his heart turn over. These people needed Ceanna. They depended on her. She was vital to them and their future and they knew it. They were not going to let her forget it any time soon.
And what was he? Who was he vital to? Not even his brothers trusted him to complete his task. And he wanted to be needed. He was tired of being alone. He knew he should never have refused her love, however it was offered. But saying anything now when there was still so much to do and to sort out would be a mistake.
‘The first thing you are going to do is eat,’ he said instead. ‘I insist on it, as your husband.’
She patted his cheek. ‘In good time. Then we will plan what happens next.’
He started to protest but stopped. She still needed him. It was something.
* * *
‘Are you going to tell me why you are acting like this?’ Danr asked the next morning when Sandulf was left alone with him in Dun Ollaigh’s great hall while Ceanna went to see about the sons of Aed. Danr appeared refreshed after a good night’s sleep and was finishing off what looked to be a large breakfast. However, Sandulf noticed that he had not attempted to flirt with any of the maidservants in the entire time he had been at Dun Olliagh.
‘Like what?’
‘Like a bear with a sore head. You are far worse than
our father for being grumpy. And you are avoiding speaking with me. Your lack of curiously as to why I am here astonishes me.’
Sandulf gritted his teeth. He could hardly explain about his earlier mistake with Ceanna to his brother. How he felt like she was slipping away from him. How he was trying to ease the burden on her. How he didn’t know what do to next. ‘Why did you come? I explained to Rurik that I was more than capable of despatching Lugh on my own.’
‘From where I was sitting, you required my assistance. Your flanks were exposed and you were in danger of being overrun.’
Sandulf slammed his fist on the table, making the tankards jump. ‘You managed to get yourself taken prisoner.’
Danr shrugged. ‘Whose fault was that? And there is that black look again. Father could not have scowled better if he’d tried.’
Sandulf pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Why are you here, then?’
Danr withdrew a golden arrowhead with a line of silver running down its centre from a pouch. ‘I managed to keep this safe despite everything. Annis discovered it in her father-in-law’s things. Both Rurik and I agreed you needed to see it.’
Sandulf took the golden arrow and dangled it from his fingers. He struggled to keep from retching. Even after all this time he had wanted the other two pendants he’d discovered to be a mistake, trophies stolen during the raid, rather than...a payment. Or that his mother had indeed sent Rangr on to his uncle’s ship to look after him. ‘Alarr’s birth pendant. The one my mother claimed to have lost before Brandt married Ingrid. Where did Annis find it?’
‘In her father-in-law’s belongings after he died.’
‘Do the others know?’
Danr shrugged. ‘Brandt is with Alarr. They may do. Why?’
Sandulf took his necklace off and held it out. ‘I have the other two—Brandt’s and mine.’
‘Your mother sent you off with them? In case you needed it?’ Danr gulped. ‘Brandt was angry that day, but I know he wanted you to stay. Once his anger had gone, all would have been well.’
Sandulf rolled his eyes. Brandt’s words still echoed down the years, but they had stopped hurting. Sandulf mentally searched for the hard knot of anger that had been part of him for so long, but discovered it, too, had dissolved.
Sandulf explained about how he’d discovered both pendants. And about the Valkyrie which Lugh had secreted away. ‘I keep wondering whether my mother was involved? Or did she just want someone to look after me?’
‘When did you last see Hilda wearing them?’
Sandulf closed his eyes, trying to think. ‘Certainly last Jul, as Father made a big noise about her wearing them and they had a fight. I remember because Mother called him a drunken bully. All this leads me to believe that my mother has questions to answer.’
‘Yes, she does. Her silence on the subject is telling.’
‘I will have to visit her before I take Ingrid’s golden Valkyrie and Lugh’s sword to Brandt.’
‘You are not doing that on your own, Brother. You are Hilda’s baby boy. She will only lie to you and you will believe her because you want to. You are her son. Me?’ Danr tapped his chest. ‘I know her methods, how she twists words and feelings to suit her, how she plays with people’s lives to advance her own agenda. I have the measure of the woman and I alone will get the truth from her.’
Sandulf stared at the three pendants. Everything Danr said was correct. He would believe his mother’s words because he wanted to. Even now, he wanted to believe that she’d sent someone to watch over him because she loved him, rather than an assassin to finish him off. ‘Then we go together.’
‘I’d be honoured.’
* * *
‘You’re doing what? Visiting your mother?’ Ceanna looked up from the muddled household accounts in confusion. She thought he’d understood that she needed his help, that she wanted him by her side, but now, at the first opportunity, he wanted to leave. He’d told the truth about not wanting her love and he’d kept his oath: he had stayed with her until she reached a place of safety. The page of figures swam before her eyes. She blinked rapidly. ‘Why? We have other responsibilities—those children need to get to safety before anyone finds out they are here. They’re both a danger to us and also in danger themselves from the Regent. They need to be with their aunt in Éireann. You agreed, Sandulf.’
‘It won’t take long, Ceanna. Danr says that my mother left Maerr for the Isle of Skίð with Joarr. I didn’t even know my mother had feelings for him in that way. Apparently, they married almost before the ash in my father’s pyre was cold.’
‘And we need to take that Valkyrie to your brother,’ Ceanna continued. ‘He needs to have it. He needs to know you fulfilled your promise—the man who murdered your brother’s wife is dead. Surely that is more important than meeting your mother and her new husband!’
Sandulf stared up at the carved ceiling and attempted to control his sense of frustration.
‘Sandulf?’
‘I will do it when the time suits me!’
She let out a little noise somewhere between a sigh and a tsk and put her hands over her mouth. Remorse washed through him. He started to gather her to him, but she flinched. He stopped and ran his hand through his hair.
‘It’s my brothers, not you, who put me in this foul temper.’ The explanation sounded feeble. ‘Shouting at you was never my intention.’
‘But you did.’
‘I did and I beg your forgiveness.’
She nodded stiffly. ‘What has Danr told you? You owe me that much. Why is it so important? Why must it be done immediately?’
Sandulf explained about his mother’s pendants and how they had all three been found in the possession of assassins. She listened in stony silence.
‘Your mother needs to be consulted. She is the only one who can clear this up.’
‘Exactly. It is why I need to go with Danr. Danr says that he can get the truth from her.’
Ceanna nodded. ‘Allow Danr to do it on his own. He can extend an invitation to your mother to visit Dun Ollaigh. Why would she not want to visit her youngest son and meet his new wife?’
‘But...’ He ran his hand through his hair again; trying to explain was beyond him. He didn’t want her to think him a coward for not facing the possibility of his mother’s cruel betrayal. He wanted her to continue to see him as her hero and, when it came down to it, he wasn’t sure he was ready to face Brandt. He still didn’t feel...man enough to be welcomed into the fold.
‘But what?’ She crossed her arms. ‘You have done what you set out to do. Lugh is dead.’
‘Not by my hand. I promised to see him dead.’
Ceanna shook her head. ‘Men! As if it matters who killed him. You are alive and Lugh and his brother have been stopped. Your hand ensured the death of three other men involved in the plot if you and your brothers are right about those pendants. Be grateful to Danr for saving your life. I am.’
Sandulf swallowed twice. It was more complicated than that. He had wanted to be able to look Brandt in the eye and say he’d been the one. Brandt would have had no choice but to forgive him. It would have shown that he was finally forgiven and that he was worthy of trying for her love. ‘I am grateful to Danr.’
‘Then tell him.’ She looked at him squarely. ‘He blames himself for not being at the ceremony or in the longhouse that day of the massacre. You’re not the only one who feels guilty. Let him do this on his own.’
He stared at her in astonishment. He knew Rurik carried burdens about not being there, but he hadn’t considered Danr might feel guilty as well. ‘He confessed that to you?’
‘It is why he had your sword.’
‘But I was there and I failed to stop it. Brandt entrusted me with Ingrid’s safety and I froze when I should have rushed towards the attackers. I tried to look after Ingrid and I failed.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I�
��m not a hero, Ceanna. I can never be one. Stop trying to make me into one.’
Her face closed tight. He knew he’d hurt her in a way he had not intended to, but he’d spoken the truth. He still wasn’t worthy yet. But, by all of Odin’s ravens, what would it take? The assassin was dead and he’d kept his own wife safe. But he still didn’t feel worthy of her love, of Brandt’s forgiveness.
‘I didn’t ask you to be a hero.’ She jabbed a finger at his chest. ‘I can manage perfectly fine without someone protecting me. A hero smoothing my way and keeping me in an impenetrable tower as my destiny? Stop insulting me. Stop trying to control me. It’s the last thing I want.’
Her words lacerated his soul. Somehow, he’d managed to throw away something very precious, something so precious he hadn’t realised he had it until it was gone. Maybe he wasn’t worthy of her love, but he’d had it anyway. His chest ached as if his heart had been wrenched away. What had he done?
‘Then we are settled on this.’
‘Yes, we are. I will take the children to Éireann tomorrow. I will keep the promise we gave to my aunt. You may accompany me or not, as you choose. Go with Danr, if you want. Show him that you do not trust his judgement. Show him that you consider him unworthy for the task.’
She started to walk away.
He knew if he let her go, he’d lose any hope of winning her back. He had made a grave error back at the square, but he had to hope them travelling together again would restore something of their friendship. ‘I will go with you. I want to go with you. I made an oath to your aunt as well. Danr is capable of handling things on his own for a little while before I join him, or he reports back here.’
She turned back towards him. Her eyes blazed with fury. ‘After we deliver the children, you and I will go and see your brother. No excuses, Sandulf. No waiting for Danr to report back with what he learns from your mother. Your eldest brother needs Ingrid’s Valkyrie. He needs to know the man who killed his wife is dead. Doesn’t he deserve peace?’
Sandulf rubbed the back of his neck. Seeking out his mother to find out the truth wouldn’t have been an excuse to avoid Brandt and their unfinished business exactly, but Ceanna was right—she and those young boys needed him as their protector on the journey to Éireann. ‘What if he turns his back on me?’
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