Vengeance Hammer (Viking Vengeance) (8 page)

Mús? Had Nyssa’s half-brother returned to their isle? Mús wanted Nyssa to heal a woman? Lady Jennie? How could Mús know of Jennie? Dráddør knuckled his throbbing temple.

“Methinks the rain will start in earnest any moment. Should we tarry?”

Tighe’s strident tone cleared Dráddør’s momentary confusion. He shook his head. “Nay. We must hurry to the keep.”

Konáll lurched to his feet with Nyssa in his arms. “Lead the way.”

Pondering Tighe’s fervent declaration and sweeping furtive glances at Nyssa as he walked, Dráddør couldn’t fathom how any man found a pregnant female in the least attractive. He pictured Xára’s flat belly the size of Nyssa’s and could not prevent a sudden shudder.

By the time they reached the bailey, low rumbles of thunder echoed off the curtain walls. The few occupants of the courtyard all appeared to be dashing for shelter. One of the heavy square doors to the castle was shut. Men, women, and children hurried up the steps and into the shelter of the great hall.

Egron greeted him before he set foot on the chamber’s landing. “My lord, I have men searching the castle and the grounds.”

Dráddør’s gut twisted. “For what?”

The warrior’s bronzed complexion blanched. “Your wife, my lord.”

Since he could plainly see Xára standing at the top of the first floor stairs, Dráddør inspected Egron. The man did not show the usual signs of intoxication, his brown eyes clear and unglazed, his back rigid, and he had not spoken with a slurred tongue.

Tighe bumped Dráddør’s shoulder. “Aught amiss?”

“Mayhap.” Dráddør studied Xára as she descended the stone steps. She appeared calm and composed. He addressed Egron in a lowered voice, “What reason have you to believe my wife is missing?”

A gray cast tinted Egron’s face. “I followed your orders not to let her out of my sight, my lord. By Loki’s mischief, I know not how she vanished. She was in the kitchen speaking with an older woman and a girl. They went to the herbarium. We followed her there and waited for your wife and the other females to appear for a while, and then checked the chamber. It was empty. I called for a search immediately.”

“It would appear you have erred. My wife approaches.”

Egron’s jaw sagged. He spun about.

“You mentioned a healer.” Konáll’s bellow bounced off the newly whitewashed great hall’s walls.

“Nay, Viking, I need not any to tend to me. I am fine. The child rests. I will see this woman who hovers near death now.” Nyssa pushed at her husband’s chest.

Konáll’s golden brows met, he blew out a loud sigh, and addressed Dráddør. “Where is this female and what ails her?”

At that moment Xára reached Dráddør’s side. He curled an arm around her waist. “Patience. Konáll, Nyssa, this is my wife, Xára. She cannot speak, but is of lucid mind.”

She pinched the back of his wrist.

The woman had a vicious way of drawing his flesh ‘tween her short nails. He gave her a little shake and frowned down at her.

“She understands all you speak and can write what she wants to say.”

Another quick pinch and a furious glower at him.

“Xára? Little Xára from Circe Fearn Abbey—why I could ne’er forget those eyes. What is this you say, Dráddør, that she cannot speak? The Xára I knew chattered like a magpie.” Nyssa struggled out of Konáll’s embrace.

Xára stiffened and hip-bumped his leg. She wriggled out from under his arm and a dazzling smile spread across her face.

Konáll and Dráddør stood jaw dropped as the two women rushed forward and hugged each other.

“Well, well. ’Tis remarkable. Your wives know each other and neither of you were aware of this?”

Tighe’s smug grin had Dráddør’s fist itching to connect with the highlander’s jaw. Naught he hated more than being caught uninformed. The ache at his temples intensified.

“Nyssa, Xára, desist at once,” Konáll roared.

Both females drew apart.

When Nyssa opened her mouth, Konáll snapped, “Nay, wife. Not another word. I am done with this. We have battled two storms that left us with no food or wine. You are as weak as a mouse. Nay. Do not utter a squeak. You will sit on a bench and if you so much as try to stand, I will tie you to the bench. We will quench our thirst and hunger before we do anything else.”

“Your word is my command, my lord.” Nyssa’s mild tone belied her fisted hands and the splash of color staining her cheeks.

“Then you will say naught until you have eaten and drunk. When I deem you are recovered enough, then you will tend to the sick woman.”

“This woman Mús speaks of is not at death’s door?” Nyssa kneaded the small of her back.

“I fear there is little you can do for her. Xára’s mother, the Lady Jennie suffers fatally of poison.” Dráddør did not want Xára embarrassed by the details of Arnfinn’s murder and the belladonna. “Has your mother awoken, wife?”

Xára shook her head.

“Then we may as well eat before checking on her condition.”

A hush fell over the great hall.

Nodding her agreement, Xára gestured to the dais, broke away, and hurried through the archway leading to the kitchens.

Not moments later, a tall, stout woman rushed into the chamber. She dipped a hasty curtsey. “Good day, my lords, I am Moira, the housekeeper. Lady Xára bids me feed you all. The noon meal is nigh ready. Bread and cheese and ale will be on the tables shortly.”

How had Xára communicated her wishes? Did she have sand trays in every chamber?

“Mayhap, ’tis the time to introduce myself, since none seem so inclined. I am Tighe, Earl of Dalriada, and I am at your service, my beautiful lady.” Tighe swept a wide bow.

Konáll draped an arm over Nyssa’s shoulder and glowered at Tighe.

Nyssa raked what could only be termed a scornful glance at the highlander. “So you are the warrior Hjørdis sighs and swoons o’er. Methinks Hjørdis’s eyesight needs checking.”

“Methinks his eyesight needs fist-adjusting. Desist staring at my wife at once or meet me on the training grounds, highlander,” Konáll barked.

Nyssa made a clucking sound. “Husband, highlander, sheath your weapons. Earl Tighe, I beg you to discourage Hjørdis. She insists on wedding you.”

“Ah, my lady, I fear our King Kenneth has contracted me to a Norse woman of much renown. I will send Hjørdis my apologies. ’Tis a fine castle Dráddør now rules, is it not?” Tighe swept a hand around the hall.

Dráddør grinned at Tighe’s adroit side-stepping of the king’s latest dictate. The highlander had no intentions of ever marrying the Viking woman Kenneth had chosen for him.

“’Tis a fine hall, but mayhap a few tapestries would not be amiss,” Nyssa remarked, craning her head back to examine the paned windows.

Tighe snorted. “You should have seen it when we first arrived. ’Tis markedly improved now, my lady.”

Dráddør shifted from one foot to the other. He had hoped to impress his brothers with his new holding. “Arnfinn’s step-brother, Néill, destroyed much of the furniture of the castle. ’Twas most provident Tighe had insisted on providing the marital bed as a dower gift for my wife, or we would have naught for the wedding night. We have managed to scour benches and tables from the nearby villages and farms. We can accommodate your men, brother. As you can see we have but a crude dais and high table.”

“’Twill suffice.” Konáll lifted his wife, hopped onto the platform, and set her down on the bench.

A bevy of kitchen boys streamed into the room carrying jugs of ale and steaming cider. On their heels followed three maids with baskets. The doughy aroma of bread filled the room.

“I must find Xára. Go sit. Try to stop Konáll from exploding. I thank Odin I have a meek, biddable, and truthful wife.” Dráddør started in the direction of the kitchen only to halt in mid-stride when he spied Xára coming down the steps. How had she got above stairs in such a short time?

Ah, she carried the sand tray. In truth his wife had a quick intellect and he approved of her calm and organization. He offered her his arm when she reached the last step.

She gifted him with a sweet smile and a deep blush, but could not quite meet his gaze. Was she, like he, recalling their bedsport? His groin heated. Grinding his teeth, he willed his wayward erection to desist and forced himself to concentrate on the many issues at hand.

* * *

Oh, he had a wicked gleam in his blue eyes, her husband. Xára’s cheeks warmed and she had to bite her lip hard to erase the image of his head ‘tween her thighs. Her sex grew damp. She prayed none noticed her embarrassment.

She took the seat next to Nyssa and placed the sand tray on the table 2tween them. What odds the two of them meeting after so many years? When had she last seen Nyssa? Many winters ago, but she could not recall the exact time and place.

“I am so happy to see you.” Nyssa grasped her hand and squeezed. “We are sisters in marriage, now.”

Xára frowned. For the second time she did not catch a memory from a touch. Why?

“I take it Xára was at Circe Fearn Abbey with you?” Konáll offered his wife a slice of cheese.

“For three winters. I am older and we were housed in a different tower, but I saw her oft at mass and during the many prayers.” Nyssa nibbled on her food. “Albeit, I am distraught. How did Xára lose her voice? When?”

“Nyssa’s questions echo mine and all at the table.” Dráddør captured his wife’s wrist and brushed his lips against the soft underside. “While Xára cannot speak, she uses this sand tray to write her thoughts. I have not had the time for answers to these questions. So write, Xára. I will read your answers.”

All eyes were upon her by the time he finished and Xára’s face warmed as an anticipatory silence fell. Her throat felt suddenly dry as it did when she’d had the use of her voice, and been embarrassed to speak before a crowd. How foolish of her.

Dráddør plucked a warm loaf from the tray, tore off a chunk, and offered her the rosemary-fragrant morsel. Hungry all at once, she popped the bread into her mouth and bent to the sand tray.

“Attack. Throat pierced.” Dráddør’s deep voice reverberated in the nigh empty hall. “Who attacked you?”

Xára shivered at the leashed rage in his growled query. Dare she tell the truth? Nay. Not until she knew more and not in such a public location. She scribbled furiously.

“Bandits? Were you outside the castle walls?”

His hot breath skipped over Xára’s cheek and distracted her for a moment. Dráddør read aloud as she formed the words in the sand. “Journey from Circe to Touft Abbey—”

“We all wondered why you left so suddenly. And the Abbess would say naught. Did your father send for you?” Nyssa accepted a slice of cheese from her husband.

Xára didn’t want to mislead her childhood friend.

“Nay. The abbess sent me to Touft.” Dráddør gave her a peculiar stare while reading her reply. She tried to ward off a sudden uneasiness and wriggled her shoulders. Focusing on the sand, she decided to draw their attention to Jennie and away from her deliberate deceptive inference, and wrote furiously.

“Xára wants me to tell you of Lady Jennie. The chief man-at-arms, Liam the Lucky, recounted the whole tale to Tighe and me. Two nights before we took the castle, Lady Jennie poisoned Arnfinn’s wine. Arnfinn was in the habit of using his wife as a taster. There had been attempts to poison him in the past. She drank the goblet intended for him and then poured him more. He continued to drink, but she did not.”

“’Twas deliberate? Lady Jennie killed her own husband?” Konáll asked.

Xára bowed her head and studied a dark knot on the wooden table.

“The people of the keep seem to think so and to believe Arnfinn rightly deserved it. But, not a single man or woman would tell us why Lady Jennie took such a drastic step. Do you know why your mother poisoned your father, Lady Xára?”

Earl Tighe was the one who posed the question to her. She jerked to meet the highlander’s piercing stare searching furiously for an answer that would appease their curiosity, but not give away the dire secret she dared not tell. How to reply?

“’Tis of no import right now, Highlander. Know you what poison she used, Xára?” Nyssa asked.

She nodded and traced the word.

“Belladonna,” Dráddør read.

“Mús must have sent me here to heal Lady Jennie,” Nyssa mused. “I have ne’er dealt with poison.”

Konáll swore and slammed a fist on the table. “I will not allow it. Nyssa, you know you absorb the injuries of others. What if the poison seeps into our babe? Nay. I forbid you. You will not heal the lady Jennie.”

Heal?
Xára scribbled and tugged on Nyssa’s sleeve.

Nyssa shifted her gaze to Xára’s. “I am a healer. I did not come into my healing powers until my tenth and seventh summer.”

Powers? Her tenth and seventh summer? A frisson of fear crept over Xára’s nape. For ’twas the exact time she had come into her immortal abilities.

The sound of booted footsteps drew her attention and she glanced over her shoulder. A delicious fragrance preceded the entrance of the maids and kitchen boys, a mingled aroma of herbs and a broth enriched with the heavy meatiness of roasted marrow bones.

Nyssa began questioning Tighe about the taking of Lathairn.

Xára pushed aside the sand tray, straightened, and fiddled with the eating knife tied to her gyrdel. She flinched when Dráddør rested his hand on her leg. What was he about? His thumb rubbed a small circle. She held her breath and stared unseeing as a trencher was placed ‘tween the two of them.

“I would learn your tastes o’er the coming sennights. For now, a simple shake of your head if you do not like a morsel I offer,” he spoke in a low voice.

Xára knew ‘tween the stomping of the maids and boys and the lively conversation Konáll, Nyssa, and Tighe conducted, none could hear his words or see him kneading her thigh. She prayed the fire in her cheeks went unnoticed.

“Look to me.” He squeezed her leg.

She steeled herself and then peeked at him. Mother Mary, she was lost, lost in the blazing dark blue of his eyes.

“How fare you? Are you sore?”

Her sex clenched and she recognized the sweet ache from this morn. The exquisite need he had stoked with his fingers, tongue, and teeth. Remembered the incredible ecstasy he had wrought.