Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Lord Havelock's List\Saved by the Viking Warrior\The Pirate Hunter (42 page)

A hard knot appeared in the pit of her stomach. If Hagal had torched this farmhouse, how many other people had he killed, and worse, had he used her supposed murder as an excuse to do it? Thrand might think they were safe and had no further part to play, but she knew that farmhouse would haunt her.

‘The sooner we are in Iceland, the sooner you can stop worrying about this sort of thing,' Thrand remarked.

‘But it might still be happening.' Cwenneth picked up Aud. She didn't want to think about the danger to the farm where they had lived.

‘It won't be your concern. It is not your concern now. We have chosen a different path. The children will be safe.' He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘You can only look after your family, Cwen, not the whole world.'

* * *

Despite the wild flower–strewn glade where they camped, Thrand's nostrils still quivered from the stench of the burnt livestock. He put his cloak over the two sleeping children. Aud and Hilde at least seemed unconcerned by the slaughter they had encountered earlier. Cwen remained a bit pale and subdued.

The children had eagerly eaten the duck he'd caught, which Cwen had cooked with a few herbs and greens she'd gathered, but neither he nor Cwen had eaten much. And the children had waited until Cwen told them they could eat. How Cwen knew these things was beyond him. Looking after children was a whole new world where he had little skill or experience, but he wanted to learn. It surprised him how much he wanted to.

Thrand tore his mind away from the children and attempted to concentrate on the problem at hand, namely who was behind the burnt farmhouse and did it matter to his future? Were they in danger?

Hagal had to be behind it, but it made no sense. But there again, his attempted murder of Cwen made no sense either. At least Cwen lived. He doubted anyone had survived at that farmhouse. It annoyed him that the Northumbrians would say he had done it, but what was the point of worrying about his reputation in a place that he never planned to visit again.

‘Do you want any more duck?' he asked, going over to where Cwen sat quietly mending a hole in Aud's trousers. ‘You barely touched your food earlier.'

Cwen shook her head. ‘I'm not hungry.'

‘Can we have a song,
Far
?' Hilde's sleepy voice asked.

‘I thought they were asleep,' Thrand said in an undertone.

‘Sometimes putting a cloak over a child can wake them.'

‘I did it carefully,' he protested.

Her hand stilled. ‘Are you going to sing for her? Music used to settle Richard, and she asked for you.'

‘The only songs I know are war ballads. You sing, Cwen. You do it. You must know a lullaby or two.'

She pushed the needle in and out of the cloth. ‘My voice isn't very good and I haven't sung properly...not since...'

Thrand stilled as the memory of the dream washed over him. ‘You do yourself a disservice. You sang once for me.'

She tucked her chin into her neck. ‘Special occasions only.'

‘Very well. I will try.' He searched his mind and started to sing one of the less violent sagas.

The little girl gave a sigh and turned over. Within a few heartbeats, there was the sound of her soft breathing.

‘There, you did it,' Cwen said. ‘You sang her to sleep.'

‘Why did you sing in the hut?'

‘I didn't think you heard me,' she replied. ‘A bit of foolishness my nurse Martha told me when I was little. Some people can be brought back from the brink of death if the song is sweet enough. Luckily, as you pointed out, you were never in danger.'

Thrand took the cloth from her hand, put it to one side and laced his fingers through hers. ‘You have a lovely voice. Can I hear it again?'

‘When we get to Iceland and everyone is safe, then I will sing. It will be a special occasion.' She released his hand and stood up, wrapping her arms about her waist. ‘I will be far happier and in better voice when we get there.'

He leant his forehead against hers and put his arms about her. ‘Forget about the farmhouse. Forget about everything but these children.'

She laid her head on his chest. ‘What if Hagal did it? What if he did it because of me? I spent my life preparing to run a large house and I know the responsibility a mistress has for her people. I wanted to be a peace-weaver, not a death-bringer.'

Thrand closed his eyes and forced his breathing to be steady. ‘What-ifs play no part in our future. Going to Iceland is the best way to protect you and the children. What happens in Northumbria is no longer any of our concern. And you will be bringing peace—peace to my life and the children's.'

‘But his reach is long. Knui proved that. How many other people have taken his gold? Who else might be lurking in the shadows?'

‘Everyone will be on their guard now that it is known. Bribery only works when people are not looking for it.' He put a finger to her mouth. ‘Hush now. I want to enjoy you and this moment. The children are asleep and there is only us. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

‘Make love to me, Thrand. There are no stars to count tonight.'

His head descended. She responded fully, greedily pulling at his mouth.

* * *

Afterwards when Cwen lay in his arms, sleeping with her lips softly parted, Thrand watched the faint light of the stars. Only yesterday he would have sworn that vengeance drove him and there was room for nothing more. But now he knew it could contain more. It could be richer than he ever dreamt.

Silently, he prayed, using words he remembered from his childhood, prayers his father used to say—that his sword arm would be strong and not falter. He tightened his arm about Cwen and smoothed her shorn hair. This time, he vowed, he would not fail his family. And he knew who his family was.

He sat up straight. Cwen! There was something he could do for her.

‘Tomorrow we go north.'

‘North?'

‘You need to make your goodbyes...to your son.'

* * *

The ice coldness of the crypt hit Cwenneth as soon as she walked in, taking her back to Aefirth's funeral. The lingering scent of incense tugged at her nostrils. She braced her body for tears, but none came.

She walked briskly over to Aefirth's tomb, wanting to get it over with. She hadn't anticipated Thrand would make this gesture. Despite his dismissing the danger, she knew he took a grave risk in coming here.

Thankfully the young priest had not been present when she was last here. Maybe Thrand was correct. Maybe luck was finally on her side.

When she'd imagined coming back here, she'd always anticipated that uncontrollable sorrow would overtake her. Instead, an overwhelming sense of peace filled her as she slowly traced Richard's name on the tomb.

‘I'm going to Iceland,' she whispered. ‘I will make sure Aud and Hilde learn all the games you used to play. But know my heart is big enough to hold everyone. Loving them won't make me love you any less.

She allowed her hand to linger for a few heartbeats and then turned away. She was no longer the woman who had loved these two so fiercely. She'd always love them, but they belonged to her past. And her future was more important.

‘Finished so soon?'

‘I'm ready to go.' She touched her chest. ‘There is no need to say goodbye as I carry them in my heart. But thank you for bringing me here. It was unexpected, but the risk was far too great.'

He put his hand on her arm. ‘The risk was worth it.'

‘We need to go now.' Cwenneth glanced over her shoulder. The priest had left them alone. ‘Confronting my stepson with you and the children would be less than ideal.'

‘The lord is away,' Hilde piped up.

‘How do you know?'

‘I asked the kitchen boy when he was giving the scraps to the chickens,' the little girl answered.

Thrand beamed. ‘If you want to know something, Hilde will find out the answer.'

‘Did you find out where he had gone?'

‘The kitchen boy said that he was going off to war.'

Cwenneth shook her head as a shiver ran down her spine. Now that she thought about it, the hall seemed devoid of its usual life. ‘He will have that wrong. My stepson has a limp. He is no warrior. Kitchen boys the world over like to sound important.'

‘Did he say where?' Thrand asked.

Hilde shook her head. ‘He wasn't sure. A long way from here. The kichen boy's brother went as well.'

‘We need to go to the coast by the quickest way.' Thrand picked Aud up. ‘Once we are in Jorvik, I will let Halfdan know. Your brother may be massing an army.'

Cwenneth swallowed hard. She had to think logically. They only had the kitchen boy's boast to Hilde. Her stepson could be anywhere. The Scots could be massing in the north and then there was Mercia to the west. ‘Thrand...it will have nothing to do with us. My stepson would never lift a finger to save me. He believes I cursed his family.'

‘I won't leave my king blind. If there are problems in Bernicia, he needs to be aware of them.'

‘And Iceland?'

His warm hand curled about hers. ‘I'm giving the king information. We will still go to Iceland. War is in my past.'

Cwenneth nodded, choosing to give the appearance of believing him. ‘Iceland before autumn.'

Chapter Thirteen

T
he spring rain pelted down incessantly, soaking and chilling them to the bone. Cwenneth tightened the shawl that the farmer's wife had insisted on giving about her shoulders. They had made good progress after leaving Aefirth's crypt without anyone challenging them.

Without prompting, Thrand had set Aud on Myrkr while Cwenneth and Hilde walked beside him to keep the load light on the cart. Hilde kept up a steady stream of chatter which helped keep her mind from the niggling worry of which war her stepson had gone off to fight. It would not be anything to do with the rumour Hagal had spread. The one thing she knew for certain was that her stepson would never lift a finger to save her.

‘You have become awfully quiet, Cwen,' Thrand remarked, lifting a tired Hilde up alongside Aud. ‘Do you wish to ride as well? Or should we find shelter?'

Cwenneth's heart turned over. For the thousandth time since they had left the farmhouse she warned her heart not to care or have hope. But her heart had long ago stopped listening to her and it frightened her. She could so easily lose him. And the last thing she wanted was a war between the Norsemen and the Bernicians.

The needle sting of hail attacked Cwenneth.

‘We should find shelter. Aud is being very brave, but hail hurts.'

‘You must know of somewhere which will take travellers in and not ask too many questions. The children need a hot meal and to thaw out in front of a warm fire.' His brows drew together. ‘Like you, I know we are near to Lingwold.'

‘There is no point in trying the hall or any of the monasteries or inns. They are sure to inform my brother.' Cwenneth wrapped her arms about her waist. ‘The last thing I want is my brother chasing after me, thinking I've been kidnapped as Hagal claimed. Time enough to send a message when we are in Jorvik.'

She took a step and her boot slipped slightly in the pile of hailstones. Thrand put his hand under her elbow, holding her upright. She met his midnight-blue eyes and saw the concern and something more which was instantly masked.

‘Are your boots losing their grip?' Thrand asked. ‘Go slower and watch where you put your feet. How would we cope if something happened to you?'

‘They will last. They are good...' Cwenneth's voice trailed away as her shoulders suddenly became much lighter. There was a place they could stay! Safe with no fear of Edward or Hagal knocking at the door.

‘There is somewhere we can stay.' Cwenneth fought to keep the excitement from her voice. ‘Someone who would keep our presence a secret until her dying breath.'

‘Are you sure of that? Gold and fear can be mighty big inducements. Do you know of any abandoned huts around here? Ones that a shepherd might use?'

‘You remember Dain—the boy who had these boots before me. His mother lives near here. On her own. She won't ask too many questions. She was my nurse, my second mother before my marriage and she has no great love for my brother. She rightly blames him for failing to find Dain a place amongst his men. I would like to return the boots.' Cwenneth winced at the sight of the mud-splattered boots. ‘Or at least pay for them. She deserves to know her son died bravely.'

When he said nothing, she added, ‘The children need shelter from the rain. Somewhere warm where they can dry off in front of a fire. They are far too wet and cold. If one of them gets sick, we'll be forced to delay our journey. And we want to get to Jorvik as soon as possible.'

‘I am aware of that. The question is where.'

‘I would trust my life to Martha.' Cwenneth paused. ‘And I would trust the children's lives to her as well.'

‘If you are sure...'

‘Very sure. She is my oldest friend.' She put her hand on Thrand's sleeve and felt the comfort of his muscular arm. ‘When I was a young girl, she used to hide my misdeeds from my family and most particularly my brother. I would not be standing here if she had told. Edward did threaten bodily harm on more than one occasion.'

‘What did you do? I find it hard to credit you were ever naughty. Or behaved foolishly.'

‘Once I arranged it so an old bird's nest fell on Edward's head and showered him with spider's webs. Edward had been overly proud of his new ermine cloak. It was ruined beyond repair. And despite Edward offering a reward, Martha kept my secret.'

‘This is another matter entirely, Cwen.'

‘You did not hear the threats my brother uttered. Or the rewards he offered. I know which side Martha would choose.' Cwenneth concentrated on brushing the hail from Hilde's cloak. ‘The children need to have some shelter and hot food, and the area around Lingwold is too built up to risk a fire.'

She waited in silence as Aud began to softly cry as the hail pelted down again, pricking like a thousand needles.

‘I trust your judgement on people,' Thrand said, pulling her hood more firmly on her head. ‘You took a chance on me, but keep silent about my name unless absolutely necessary.'

Cwenneth threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, drinking from his mouth. ‘You won't regret it.'

His arms came about her and pulled her close. ‘I plan on making you pay later.'

* * *

‘Who goes there on a day like today?' an elderly voice asked in answer to Cwenneth's knock. ‘I swear it became black as midnight at noon. Does it mean the devil is out on his rounds?'

Cwenneth gave a quick glance at Thrand. She motioned for him to be quiet. If Martha heard a Norseman's voice, she might bolt the door and lock it. The bone-chilling hail and sleet had only increased in the time it had taken to get to the farm.

‘Travellers in need of shelter.' Cwenneth hated how her stomach knotted. ‘Martha, please open the door and allow us to come in.'

The door creaked open and an eye peered out. ‘Lady Cwenneth? By all that is holy, what are you doing here? Do ghosts walk abroad today? Is that why it is so dark out?'

Cwenneth winced. She hadn't realised her voice was that recognisable. ‘The very same, but I am no ghost or apparition. I am real. Touch my hand. There are children, Martha. It is bucketing down. May we come in? Please, for the sake of my mother's friendship with you.'

Martha's eyes narrowed and she ignored Cwenneth's outstretched hand. ‘We heard you'd been kidnapped. Owen the Plough even went so far as to predict that you were dead. No lady could withstand what happened to you.'

‘Owen the Plough always did love to make dire predictions. I've brought Dain's boots back. You can see the mark he made on the back.' Cwenneth lifted up her gown to display the mud-splattered boots. ‘You were right. They are excellent boots. Open the door properly and look.'

The door was flung wide open and the elderly woman rushed out. She clasped Cwenneth to her breast before leading them back into the small hut where a fire roared. The smell of warm stew and freshly baked bread perfumed the air. Aud and Hilde instantly went to the fire and started to warm their hands, rather than begging for a taste as she would have done at their age. In the firelight, Cwenneth could see the colour in their cheeks coming back. She breathed easier. Coming here and begging for shelter had been the right thing to do.

‘You must tell me all your adventures and how you managed to be here with two children and this...warrior. After you have had something to eat. Those children are too thin by half.' The old woman put out a trembling hand and touched Cwenneth's cheek. ‘You are real. You are alive. Did my...?'

Cwenneth shook her head slowly, hating the eager look which had come on to the woman's face.

‘Slain before they had a chance to draw their swords. Betrayal of the most cowardly sort. Cold-blooded murder,' Thrand said in a low voice, ‘or otherwise your son would have acquitted himself well.'

Cwenneth rapidly explained what had happened and how Thrand had rescued her. However, she was very careful not to give Thrand a name as she knew how people in Lingwold felt about him.

‘I would be dead if not for him.' Cwenneth squeezed Martha's hand as the old woman wiped away a tear. ‘Surely you can see the folly in saying it is worse than death to be rescued by a Norseman when the only reason why I am alive and breathing is him and his sword arm.'

The woman's eyes narrowed. ‘And he is? You are avoiding the question, my lady. What is this man's name? He must have a name.'

Cwenneth swallowed hard. Lying was out of the question, but there was no telling how Martha would react when she knew, particularly after Thrand had been blamed for the torching of the farms. ‘Does it matter who he is? He saved my life and travels with me. We will only be staying the one night.'

Martha tapped her foot on the floor. ‘I think it does if I am going to welcome him under my roof. And I want his real name, my lady. I know how you try to cozen people.'

‘Thrand Ammundson,' Thrand answered, stepping forward and holding out his hand. ‘Thrand the Destroyer in flesh and blood and at your service. I'm grateful you have taken my family in.'

‘Then the rumours are true. You did kidnap my lady and seduce her.'

Martha backed up. In another breath she'd run. Cwenneth readied herself to usher the children out. They could get a good few miles on them before Martha had the chance to raise the alarm.

Thrand lowered his hand on Martha's shoulder, keeping her from moving. ‘Lady Cwenneth stays with me voluntarily. Initially she wanted to see justice served, but she stays now for the sake of these two children.'

The woman blanched. ‘But they said it was all the Destroyer's work. Your bridegroom swore it on a bible.'

‘We've been duped for the last few years. And my so-called bridegroom is a pagan. Christian oaths have no meaning to him.' Cwenneth pressed her fingers together. ‘I was there. I know who killed your son and who rescued me. And while I don't know who torched those farms, I do know it wasn't Thrand. And I am prepared to swear that oath on any bible.'

Martha sank down on to the bench. ‘But they said...your brother said... I'm only a widow who has lost her only son and whose daughter won't speak to her.'

Cwenneth knelt before Martha, gathering the older woman's cold hands within hers. ‘Edward must never know I was here. We only stopped because of the children and the weather. We needed shelter. I will let him know where I am when I reach Jorvik and the children are safe, but right now they need me.'

‘My old lady, your mother, would bar me from heaven if she knew I'd refused to shelter her only daughter. Or had betrayed her. Your brother is much altered from the young man he once was.' Martha screwed up her face and appeared to think for a long while. ‘For her sake, I will accept you under my roof, Thrand Ammundson, and keep your secret.'

‘We accept with gratitude,' Cwenneth said quickly before Thrand exploded. ‘We will be gone by morning.'

‘Where are you going?' Martha asked.

‘We head to Jorvik and then to Iceland,' Thrand replied, a muscle jumping in his jaw. ‘Lady Cwenneth is coming with me to look after the children. It is the safest place for her.'

‘Iceland! Have you been bewitched, my lady? It is the end of the earth. Surely your brother will protect you...from Hagal the Red.'

‘He failed to before.' Cwenneth could hear the warning note in Thrand's voice. ‘If he had heeded the warning signs, your son might be alive today. But instead he allowed himself to be blinded by a legend.'

‘This is a bad business,' Martha said, shaking her head.

‘Why is it a bad business?' Cwenneth asked.

‘So many men dead. Your brother is baying for blood, my lady. He is raising an army to rid this land of Thrand the Destroyer for ever. He wants to free you.'

‘How did he learn about my kidnapping?' Cwenneth asked. ‘It puzzles me how the news travelled so fast. It took weeks for me to travel there. The roads are nearly impassable with the spring rain. We've had great trouble today with the cart.'

‘Hagal the Red arrived a few days ago, swearing vengeance for your kidnapping, but he needed your brother's support.'

Cwenneth froze. Hagal was at Lingwold with her brother. Play-acting. Hagal obviously expected her to make for her old home and would act the contrite bridegroom when she did arrive.

‘The best way to avoid a trap is to stay well clear,' Thrand said in a quiet but firm undertone, putting a heavy hand on her shoulder. ‘There are so many reasons why we hold to our agreed course of action and the two main ones are sitting across from you right now.'

Cwenneth pressed her hands to her eyes and tried to will the sick feeling in her stomach to go. Hagal was here! Not in Jorvik. ‘Did I say anything?'

‘We will be on our way tomorrow. First light,' Thrand said, leaving no room for dissent. He went over to where the children sat and scooped Aud up. ‘Aud is sound asleep in his stew and Hilde is not far behind. After a rest they will be ready to continue on. They are good travellers for ones so small.'

Cwenneth's throat caught as Aud's head lolled against Thrand's shoulder. Thrand looked every inch the father. To think he had proclaimed that he could never look after the children. He was a natural. And he cared for them. It was the way he carried Aud as if he was worth more than all the gold in the world combined.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Caring for the children was one thing. Caring for her was another. She wished she could stop her heart from longing and from wanting to keep him safe.

Martha pointed to the loft. ‘Put the children up there. It'll be warm enough and there is plenty of space for everyone to sleep.'

‘I'll do it,' Thrand said. ‘You stay here with your friend, Cwen. It will be a long time before you see someone from your birthplace again.'

Hilde went up the ladder first, and Thrand followed with Aud.

‘It is quite the family you have there, Lady Cwenneth,' Martha said when the noise from the loft had died down a little.