Dream of Me/Believe in Me (82 page)

Krysta put on a brave face until the meal was winding
down and she gratefully took her leave. She slept poorly that night and woke the next morning determined to speak with Hawk. That he believed she had in some way betrayed him was no longer to be borne.

Finding him proved difficult as she was unwilling to go about asking if anyone knew his whereabouts. There was already far too much fodder for the gossip mill. She was walking toward the stables, thinking to see if his favorite stallion was there, when the frantic yelping of a dog brought her up short. As the animal's cries of pain increased, she turned in the direction of the sound and quickly found its cause.

One of the hunting dogs had been taken out of its pen and was being severely beaten with a stick. The sight shocked her, for she had never permitted any mistreatment of the animals on her lands. The very thought that a helpless creature would be so abused horrified her. The pitiful animal crouched low, whimpering for mercy in between blows. Krysta started forward without thought, anxious to stop the cruelty, only to realize suddenly that the enraged man wielding the stick was none other than Lord Udell. His face shone dark red and a twisted sneer distorted his features. He seemed completely out of control as he struck the dog furiously, again and again.

“Stop!” Heedless of her own safety, Krysta darted forward. She was convinced he would beat the animal to death.

“Stop it! You're going to kill him!”

Taken by surprise, Udell made to shove her aside. When he recognized her, his eyes dilated wildly. “Bitch! Get the hell away from me or—”

The threat was never uttered, for the dog, no longer cringing beneath blows, sank his teeth into his tormentor's ankle. As Udell howled and tried to kick the animal away, the stick came loose in his hands. Krysta was wrenching it from him when it slipped between her fingers and slashed across Udell's face.

At that, everything seemed to happen at once. Udell screamed, trying to stem the flow of blood from the wound that ran from his forehead down his left cheek and just missed his eye, while hopping about on his one uninjured ankle. The dog disappeared around a corner of the stable. Several grooms ran out to see what was happening. Hard on their heels, a group of nobles returned from a ride, among them Lady Esa. She took one look at the scene and commenced shrieking.

“Murderers!
Someone has tried to kill Lord Udell! Merciful God, what infamy! In the very house of the king! Help! Help!”

She flung herself off her horse and at her brother, knocking him to the ground where he lay, groaning and bleeding. Others clustered around, the ladies adding to the cacophony with their own shrieks as the lords drew their daggers and shouted orders to one another to defend against the imagined assailant.

Krysta observed all this with blank astonishment. Granted, Udell had been injured but he was hardly in threat of his life. Moreover, although she'd had no intention of hurting him, she rather thought he deserved it for his treatment of the dog. Assuming that eventually someone among the dozen or so people clustered about him would decide to stop shouting and render him aid, she turned to go. But just as she did, Udell surged to his feet, a blood-drenched hand still clutching his face, and yelled, “She did it! That's the bitch! Stop her!”

At once, several of the lords advanced on Krysta, not touching her for they were yet mindful that she was the betrothed of the Hawk, but preventing her from escaping. One reached over and yanked the stick from her hand, grinning with satisfaction as he brandished it. “She is caught with the very weapon she used still in her hand!”

“She attacked me!” Udell declared with an air of astounded affront. “I had trouble with my dog and while I
was seeing to him, she leaped upon me with that stick. It is true what they say, all Vikings are savages.”

“You were beating your dog!” Krysta exclaimed. “I merely tried to stop you and you were struck by the same stick you were wielding against that poor animal.”

Udell straightened, letting his hand fall to reveal the jagged wound on his face. He looked around at the assembled lords and ladies, all hanging eagerly on his every word. “A man has not the right to chastise his own dog? What a strange tale she weaves to try to excuse herself.”

Remembering what had passed between her and Udell four days before, and well aware that he held more against her than the wound to his face, Krysta belatedly recognized her peril. Lords and ladies of Mercia, all no doubt loyal to Udell, surrounded her. No one else was about save for the grooms clustered off to one side and she did not expect they would risk the rage of such powerful nobles for her sake.

“It is a crime to strike a lord,” Udell said. He advanced on Krysta with an ugly smile. “You will find my wergild is among the highest in the land. I do hope your dowry is large enough to cover it. Of course, if it isn't, Hawk will have to pay the difference.” The thought made him laugh with relish and the others quickly joined in, all save Esa, who pushed her way to the front of the group. She glared at Krysta with gloating malice.

“But, my brother, what is this you say? Only the nobility can pay the prescribed fine for such an offense. Servants and slaves pay an altogether different kind of penalty.”

Udell looked genuinely surprised, as did everyone else save Krysta, who knew in a horrified heartbeat that somehow Esa already had news of what Sven had said at Hawkforte. A moment later, the lady confirmed it.

Pointing to Krysta, she said, “This one's own half-brother came all the way from Vestfold to denounce her.”

She paused dramatically. “He proclaimed her the unnatural child of his poor benighted father and a creature of the sea.” Before the shocked gasps died away, Esa continued. “Oh, yes, I know, it is too horrible to contemplate, but he swore it was true. He disowned her, declaring she has no family and no dowry. Indeed, he refused to let her return to his lands and instead gave her to Lord Hawk as
servant or slave!
This he did declare before all the folk of Hawkforte.”

Far from pleased with this news, Udell appeared dumbfounded. “How do you know this?” he demanded suspiciously.

Esa shrugged as though the answer should be obvious. “Would news like this stay in Hawkforte? Just this morning I heard it from a merchant who has my custom. But I warrant before nightfall it will be known through all of Winchester and by tomorrow there will not be a mewling babe in Wessex who does not know it.”

“That won't mean the knowing is worth anything,” Udell said. He turned on Krysta, his face dark and hate-filled. “Is this true, woman? Are you not lady but servant, say even slave?”

It did not occur to Krysta to lie. Neither her pride nor her innate honesty would have allowed her to do so despite the obvious peril. Head high, the pain of her heart well concealed, she said quietly, “So he who was my half-brother has named me.”

A curse broke from Udell that should have shriveled the leaves on the trees. Hard on it, he advanced on Krysta. “God's blood! You dared to refuse me and worse! You who are
nothing?
Never have I borne such insult and I will not now!” He looked around wildly for some way to release his rage.

Seizing the moment, Esa said, “A servant or slave who strikes a lord is flogged. That is the law.”

The other lords around Udell started at this but
quickly they cast hard, speculative looks at Krysta. The ladies tittered, aroused by shock. Udell was breathing hard. He paced back and forth, his fists opening and closing, staring at Krysta as though he still could not believe the offense she had done him. He looked away only to gaze fixedly at his sister, as what she had just said slowly penetrated the fog of rage clouding his mind.

“By God, that is true! The law speaks clearly. I will be satisfied with nothing less!”

One of the Mercian lords, a man of Udell's years but seemingly more cautious temperament, looked uneasy. “But, lord, the Hawk … ?”

Udell whirled on him, eyes bulging. “Matters not! Do you hear me?
He matters not!
The law is the law. There is nothing more precious to Alfred, is there? Always he has insisted we live within it, and the illustrious”—his voice dripped scorn—“Hawk of Essex is always at his right hand ready to enforce the royal dictates. Well, now, let him live with this! Let him see the law in action as it is meant to be!”

Before anyone else could raise objection, Udell pointed to a nearby post. “By God, I will have justice and without delay! Tie her there!”

Hard hands seized Krysta. She cried out and struggled to free herself. “Do not! I am on the king's lands! Only Alfred can pronounce judgment!” In fact, she did not know if this was true but such was the custom in Vestfold and she had to pray it held in Wessex as well.

“Alfred will know better than to gainsay me on this,” Udell declared. “If he does so, Mercia will rise against him!”

Before she could speak again, Krysta's arms were yanked around the post and swiftly secured by a rope. Esa herself darted into the stables and returned with a whip, which she handed to Udell. As a last step in all she had set in motion, she seized the dagger of a lord standing nearby
before he could think to stop her, strode to Krysta, and slashed open the back of her gown.

As it fell open to reveal the slender line of her bare back, so too did silence fall. Krysta heard the frantic beating of her heart as well as the hastily in-drawn breaths of those gathered around her. Hear, as well, the crack of the whip as Udell struck it against the ground. Getting the feel of it, she supposed in a far corner of her mind, before using it to tear open her back and avenge himself for the humiliations she had cast upon him.

There was no one to stop him; even the ravens were gone. Later, if Hawk was angry or Alfred displeased, the damage would be done. Desperately afraid, she closed her eyes and prayed for strength. Above all, she did not want to shame herself. She was concentrating very hard on that, her body braced for the blow she was sure was coming, when a well-familiar voice broke the stillness.

“Hold.”

Krysta jerked her head around and saw Hawk, who stood calm and impassive, his arms crossed over his broad chest, not even looking at her. Beside him panted the stable boy who had run to alert him to what was happening.

Udell's mouth worked. He cracked the whip again and gazed at Hawk in challenge. “Your
slave
has broken the law. She struck me and for that she will be flogged.”

Hawk studied the wound on Udell's face without comment. He glanced at Esa for a moment as she fairly bounced with excitement. His gaze on her was contemptuous but it went blank again as he turned his attention to Krysta. He walked to where she stood tied to the post and slowly looked her over. Not a hint of his thoughts escaped him as he said, “Did you put that mark on him?”

She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat and nodded. “He was beating his dog. I tried to stop him. We struggled over the stick and it slipped.”

Hawk heard her out but when she was done he said,
“It makes no matter why it happened. A servant cannot strike a noble.”

Though he called her servant instead of slave, it too made no difference. He had publicly acknowledged what there was no point in denying. Sven had disowned her. She had no family and no position. In the eyes of the law, she was no better than any other landless peasant.

Shame filled Krysta. Through its crawling pain, she heard Hawk say, “Your wergild is high, Udell. Wouldn't you rather have that?”

“Are you offering to pay it?” the Mercian shot back. He sounded in high good humor, as though he had never enjoyed himself more, as well he might for surely he had never before had a man of the Hawk's stature in such a position.

Yet was Hawk silent for a moment, as though thinking the matter over. Finally, he said, “I will pay it.”

Udell chuckled. He waved a hand around to his attentive audience. “What a magnanimous gesture. I am almost tempted to accept and indeed I might were I not so fervently devoted to the rule of law. After all, has the king not impressed upon us the sacred nature of the law, that only it stands between us and anarchy? How then can I put my own personal gain above obedience to such vital rule?” He sighed long and loud at the sacrifice he was making. “No, I must insist. Only a flogging will do.”

Still without expression, Hawk said, “The law specifies twenty lashes for such an offense.”

Krysta cringed inwardly, wondering how she could possibly withstand such punishment.

“Twenty lashes will leave her too damaged to be of further use to me,” Hawk went on. “I will pay twice the wergild.”

The crowd gasped, for this was a truly impressive sum. Only a very few lords of the land could afford to pay it, and the receipt of such bounty would make Udell an
even more potent force to be reckoned with. The Mercian understood that full well. His expression left no doubt that he was sorely tempted. But whether it was the reminder of the blow she had delivered to him in the courtyard four days before or the still-throbbing wound to his face that would likely leave him scarred for life, Udell would not relent.

“No,” he snarled. “My honor demands that she suffer the whip.”

“I grow tired of haggling,” Hawk said. He reached over, pulled together the back of Krysta's gown, and said, “A master is responsible for the actions of his servants, therefore this fault is ultimately mine. Twenty lashes are nothing to me. I will take the whipping for her.”