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Authors: Marissa Campbell

Avelynn: The Edge of Faith (35 page)

BOOK: Avelynn: The Edge of Faith
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“How long?” Terror seized my chest.

“They’ll arrive the day after the morrow.”

My sentries deposited me in a small cottage. A raised stone hearth sat central, the fire crackling away. No windows. Only one way in or out, and my captors held that comfortably. I needed a plan.

I ran a hand through my hair. No matter what thread I tried to follow in my mind, I remained stuck. Angharad had some measure of freedom. I needed her help if I was to get out of there before Osric arrived. I could not—would not—let them take me.

After I spent a restless night of tossing, turning, and stumbling against dead ends, my captors ushered me into the hall mid-morning.

Rhodri straddled the bench facing me. His eyes betrayed a shrewd intelligence, but I sensed a softness hidden in their caramel depths.

“Your reputation precedes you.”

“As does yours.”

He leaned back, resting his elbows on the table behind him. “You are safe here, in my hall. I will receive you as a guest provided you do not try to leave this building. At night, you will continue to be held under guard.”

“That’s kind of you.” My tone was flat, though in truth, it was a generous concession, given my circumstances.

“You will find I am not a heartless wretch. But as king, I am always on the lookout for political alliances to advance my position. Your friend, Angharad, will be treated well as my wife. You need not fear on her account. As for you, your capture has assured me the support of some powerful men in England, a boon I am eager to exploit.”

“So gold would not change your mind.”

“No. I am afraid not.”

I nodded. It was worth a shot, though I had none to speak of.

“I come from a proud line of great men. I have earned my kingdoms through loyalty and, when needed, a little suggestive aggression. People respect my leadership and abide by my choices. I do not lead wholly out of fear.”

“A little suggestive aggression. Is that how you managed to conquer Seisyllwg?”

“I exploited political divisions and picked the side that wanted the security more. Sigy offered the kingdom in exchange for leaving Dyfed alone. It was an offer I could not refuse.”

“But you agreed to help Sigy in her fight against Hyffaid.”

“She asked for assistance. I confirmed only my promise to leave her unmolested. She tried to sweeten the pot by adding you to the deal. My army will stand at her side and buoy her confidence, adding strength to her position. But the illusion will need to suffice. My men will not fight.”

“You’ve tricked her.”

“I gave no assurances. The woman can take from our agreement what she will. This is a family squabble. They can sort it out amongst themselves.” He summoned for mead, and servants rushed to fill his desires. He took a sip and studied me over the bone’s rim. “Now, enough of me, I am more than a little curious about you. You are worth a great deal to some powerful people, and I want to know why.”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have plenty of time. Your English captors will not be here until the morrow.” His eyes slanted as he tilted his head. “Murder, treachery, witchcraft. I must say you do not look like a witch.”

“How so?”

“You are not a hideous hag.”

I raised my horn and drank to his compliment. “The charges are all lies.”

“Of course they are. I am not a superstitious or gullible man. It is clear you have been played as a pawn in a greater game. I am more interested in the strategy and its development. What caused such wild rumors to become invented in the first place?”

“I was betrothed to a man who wished to possess me for my land and title. Refusing him set off a chain of unfortunate events, resulting in my father’s and grandmother’s murders, my home and title being stripped, and my future stolen.”

“What of your Viking?”

Rhodri seemed to know a great deal about me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you know of it?”

“He is a son of Ragnar Lothbrok, is he not?”

I stiffened.

“There is little point in keeping secrets from me. He is exiled. His own brothers have put a price on his head. Had I not agreed to the deal as is, I would have captured him myself.”

“Does Sigy know this?”

“It’s not secret knowledge. Sigy will turn him over to Halfdan once he plays whatever role she has cast for him.”

If Alrik survived the conflict with Hyffaid, he would have to turn and face his brothers and whatever men they brought with them. We were both running out of time. Would Ivar join the conflict from Ireland? I wondered if Sigy knew the risks of such an alliance. Remembering Angharad’s warning, it was more likely that once the Vikings had what they wanted, they would turn their aggression on Wales.

“What if Halfdan betrays Sigy?”

“My army will be ready, should it come to that. I will not stop the Vikings from destroying Dyfed—a convenient happenstance should it arise. I will, however, keep them from my lands.” He motioned for a page, who brought sweet cakes to the table and laid the platter before Rhodri.

Seeing them made me think of the last time I’d lain with Alrik. Grief squeezed until I could barely breathe.

“Enough of Vikings. Tell me more about your position.”

I pushed the pain away. I would figure a way out of this. “What else would you like to know?”

“Refusing a man’s bed, while infuriating and unacceptable, is hardly worth the price on your head. What were some of these unfortunate events?”

I held his gaze. “I suspect cutting off his cock might have had something to do with it.”

He coughed, spraying crumbs onto his tunic. “Indeed.”

“I do not take kindly to rape.”

To my surprise, his face blossomed into a wide grin and he laughed. “You are a wonder. Come.” He held out his hand to me. “Join me at my table. I must hear more of this tale.”

I nodded and rose, tucking my arm in his. Once Rhodri took his place on the dais, the feasting began. Mead and wine filled cups and horns; lampreys, trout, and salmon crowded platters; and cheese and breads spanned across long boards. Over several courses, I caught Rhodri up to date, leaving no stone unturned. He learned about my capture and ransom and ultimately how I escaped Demas. This progressed to my encounters with Marared and her evil conniving mother, which in due time led me here to his table.

“You are a remarkably resilient woman,” he said.

“I’m a foolish woman. Had I just accepted their warnings and run away to the continent, I wouldn’t be here now.”

He finished chewing the bread in his mouth, shaking the half loaf in his fist. “No. You are brave. A woman in charge of her own destiny. A shield-maiden of old. I respect that.”

“Do you respect it enough to let me go?”

He howled with laughter. “And witty, too.” He slapped me hard on the back, pitching me forward. “We will talk more tomorrow.” He snapped his fingers and my guards arrived. With a nod of his head, they stepped forward.

I got the hint. “Until tomorrow.” I curtsied, and they led me out of the hall and across the manor to my comfortable prison. I only flinched a little when the iron latch locked home.

Early the following morning, my guards roused me from bed and accompanied me into the hall.

Rhodri swooped down to greet me. “Come, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” With a flourish, he escorted me to the head table. I froze. My feet dug into the rushes. My legs refused to move.

“Hello, Avelynn.” Dark eyes, lit with amusement, sparkling in their depths, bored into mine. An arrogant grin that might have been termed handsome if it weren’t plastered on such a vile and vicious face, rose to greet me. The bastard himself remained seated.

My skin crawled. I panicked, ready to run. I’d expected more time. I needed more time.

Rhodri nudged me forward, all but carrying me up the step of the raised dais. “You will of course remember your husband’s seneschal. Lord Sigberht was just telling me his version of past events. Quite the contrary stories indeed.”

I tried to recover, but my blood filled with dread, rendering me mute.

“So quiet.” Sigberht studied me with a tilt to his head. “So unlike you.”

His enjoyment at catching me off guard as he reveled in my fear forced anger to rise to the surface. “Sigberht.”

“Please. Have a seat.” Rhodri pulled out the empty bench next to Sigberht. I sat as if in a numb, cold fog.

Sigberht’s voice dripped with charm. “Your uncle and husband send their greetings. They look forward to your return.”

“I imagine.” I forced myself to look him in the eyes. The malice and contempt I saw there made my stomach churn. I couldn’t let him bring me back to England. I was under no illusion that I’d somehow be spared pain and suffering until I set foot on English soil. Once this man got me to himself, I would experience firsthand his animosity. I’d die first before I let that happen.

Angharad entered the hall and paused, assessing the situation. Perhaps it was my pallor, the rigid set of my shoulders, or the two dozen strange men milling about the room that tipped her off, but she made her way to the head table and stopped in front of Sigberht. She tried speaking something in Welsh but then continued in English. “I would be most grateful if you would allow me to sit beside my friend.” She flashed a warm smile his way. “I am Angharad, Lady of Seisyllwg, betrothed to Rhodri ap Merfyn, your host.”

Sigberht stood and bowed with exaggerated flourish. “Of course, my lady. Please.” He held the chair for her to sit.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. His thumb wormed into my neck. It took fortitude of will to stop from wilting under the pressure. “Until later, then.” Sigberht nodded to me and trailed his fingers along my back as he slunk away.

With the arrival of Rhodri’s guests of honor, the feast got underway earlier than usual. Food and drink streamed in from the kitchens and buttery. The cacophony in the hall simmered to the sound of knives scraping across platters, clothing rustling, and the murmurs of hushed conversation. I stared at my trencher, unable to imagine eating any of it. Angharad watched me, her drinking horn poised in the air, her elbow resting on the table. I hoped she was thinking as rapidly as I was.

I needed a weapon. As far as I knew, there were only two guards posted outside my room at night. Even if I could get past them without alerting anyone, where would I go from there? I knew I could find my way back to the strait, but Sigberht had arrived by ship. Several men would most likely stay aboard while he settled his transaction. The shore would be crawling with the English louses.

By the time the fourth course worked its way around the hall, conversation resumed, the level of chatter proportional to the amount of drink the group had consumed. I took the opportunity to whisper to Angharad. “I need a knife. And gold.”

Her gaze swept the room, ensuring no one listened to or watched our exchange. “I’ll find a way to get them to you. But how will you—”

“A boat. I need a small scuttle. Something to slip away in.”

“But Sigberht.” She glanced in his direction.

He sensed her scrutiny and bestowed a snarl in my direction before returning his attention to Rhodri.

I grimaced. “I don’t know the land. I have no choice but to strike out at sea. At least I can follow the coast, make my way back to the strait.”

“How far do you think you can make it before they set off after you?”

“I don’t know but I have to try. I can’t let them take me. I …” The weight of my circumstance threatened to pull me under. Tears welled. I changed tack. “I’ll make it.”

Once the feast concluded, I was spared further conversation with Sigberht, and my guards escorted me back to my cottage. I paced the room. Angharad would find a way to help, but I had to wait. My gut twisted. Time was a precious commodity, and it was running out.

A key turned in the lock. The door opened, and Sigberht strolled inside. He smiled. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment.” He stalked closer.

I stepped back.

“Nowhere to go. No father here to protect you. No Viking to whisk you away. Just you and me.”

There was no point in trying to appeal to his humanity. I was fairly certain he didn’t have any—at least where I was concerned, especially after the way I’d treated him. At the time, my actions were necessary. I’d run the manor in my father’s absence and uncovered Sigberht’s plot to steal wealth from Wedmore. I’d reprimanded him in front of his peers, all but exiling him from Somerset. I’d done my duty, but to Sigberht, I was a woman who’d overstepped my boundaries and humiliated him.

BOOK: Avelynn: The Edge of Faith
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