Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Lord Havelock's List\Saved by the Viking Warrior\The Pirate Hunter (45 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Lord Havelock's List\Saved by the Viking Warrior\The Pirate Hunter
9.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

At Cwen's sceptical look, Thrand nodded. ‘I have trained her well.'

She stood awkwardly, not sure what she should say to Thrand. There was far too much she wanted to say. ‘I will see you soon.'

His hand curled about hers. ‘I am counting on it.'

He turned with the children and didn't look back.

Keeping to the shadows, Cwenneth crept over to where the hidden passage ended and pulled the covering open. It smelt danker than she recalled, and she wished she had a light. The woman she had been when she'd left this place would never have dared to do this. Thrand believed in her and moreover had taught her that she was capable of far more than she dreamt.

Everything had seemed clear back at Martha's and indeed on the path here. But standing in front of the walls, it seemed a much harder proposition. Edward hated being duped. He always reacted badly. She had to hope that he turned on Hagal quickly and never discovered his most hated enemy was on his lands. She'd slip away quietly.

‘There is no hope for it.' She spat on her hands and felt for the knife Thrand had insisted on her wearing. It remained securely strapped to her calf. ‘I have to begin before I can be finished.'

She crouched down and began to crawl. Spiders' webs entangled in her hair, and she bumped her knee against a particularly hard rock. When she had nearly given up hope, she saw a faint crack of light. She pushed against the door, and it gave way.

She tumbled out on to the hard stone with a clatter which seemed to echo.

She froze, waiting, but there was no sound of anyone stirring.

A wild excitement filled her. She might just do it. She started towards the kitchen. Someone there would know where her brother slept. It would be safer. Edward would understand, she told herself for the thousandth time. He would let her go when she asked.

A hard hand descended on her shoulder. ‘Who goes there?'

‘I am Lady Cwenneth of Lingwold,' Cwenneth said with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘Unhand me and take me to Lord Edward. There is much I want to say to him. There is much he needs to know before he makes the biggest mistake of his misbegotten life.'

‘Not so fast, my lady,' the man replied with a thick Northman accent. ‘Hagal the Red has business with you first.'

Chapter Fifteen

‘U
nhand me.' Cwenneth struggled against the restraining paw of Hagal's henchman as he dragged her to where Hagal was holding court in a small room at the back of Lingwold. Hagal gave her a look which was pure evil. ‘I am perfectly able to walk. I demand to see my brother. He is the lord here, not you.'

Hagal gave a nod. ‘Release her. You will have your time later with the lady. You wish to see your brother, do you, wife?'

Cwenneth hated how her scalp crawled. She tore her arm away from the great hulk and silently vowed that he was never going to have any time with her. Thankfully, she still had the knife and she would not hesitate to use it.

‘If you will take my arm, my lady.' Hagal held out his arm in a parody of a gentleman's pose.

‘Where are we going?'

‘Where else but to see your brother?' Insincerity dripped from every feature. ‘We have all been worried sick about you, my lady. Thrand Ammundson has a fearsome reputation. Your brother will rejoice to see you unharmed.'

‘I am sure he will.' Cwenneth forced her feet to keep moving. All of her muscles tensed. Somehow she had to find a way to escape and warn Thrand. Hagal was not acting as though he suspected that Thrand was in the hall. She breathed a little easier and tried to hang on to that.

‘Look who has returned, Edward!' Hagal crashed open the main door to the hall and propelled her forward into the tapestry-lined hall. She could remember how she used to play a game of echoes when she was little. If she stood in the right spot, just about where Edward now stood, her voice would bounce off the walls. In the wrong spot, it was as quiet as the grave.

The force of the blow made Cwenneth drop to her knees. She gritted her teeth and slowly rose to her feet, concentrating on the red and gold of the tapestries. The stench of sour wine intermingled with ale hung in the air. Her father would be spinning in his grave. She did not dare look around to see where Thrand and the children stood. If they had made it this far...

She lifted her chin. ‘Brother, it is good that you have given me such a warm and heartfelt reception.'

‘Cwenneth!' her brother said, rising from where he sat discussing something with several of his followers. Her sister-in-law was nowhere to be seen, but her former stepson sat beside him.

Edward's face was puffy and his nose red. He had the air of a man who preferred to drink and carouse rather than to lead an attack of any sort. In any fight with Hagal, he'd lose. Cwenneth's heart sank. Edward was blundering about like a fly unaware that he was caught in a web.

‘You are alive.' He held out his arms. ‘Thank God, you are alive. That monster let you live. And you've returned unharmed to us. Hagal is willing to overlook everything. We can still have the wedding.'

‘I survived the attack, yes,' she said cautiously and remained where she stood.

Cwenneth looked at each of the men at the high table, including her former stepson. Her heart sank. There was not one she could fully trust to believe her story, not with Hagal and his men camped inside the gate.

‘My sister is more resourceful than you predicted, Hagal the Red,' Edward remarked.

‘A great relief to us all,' Hagal said with a bow. ‘Thrand Ammundson does have a certain reputation with women. Back in Norway, he caused the death of my beloved Ingrid.'

‘Still, my sister has returned to us after her ordeal. And she will give witness to what happened. Your king will have to listen to her. A delegation can be sent, rather than an army.'

Hagal's face turned crimson. ‘One hopes that she is not a traitor.'

Cwenneth kept her gaze trained on her brother and willed him to believe her. ‘Thrand Ammundson rescued me after Hagal's men slaughtered everyone else. Edward, you above all people should know my love for Lingwold is without question.'

‘Why would Hagal want you dead?' her stepson asked.

She directed her gaze to him. ‘Because your father, my late husband, killed his close kinsman. And Hagal made a battlefield vow. Narfi took great pleasure in informing me of it before he challenged Thrand Ammundson.'

Her stepson blanched.

‘Where is Thrand Ammundson now?' Hagal asked, muscling forward. ‘How did your ladyship escape?'

Cwenneth's stomach clenched. If she lied, her brother would know. He had always had the uncanny knack of knowing when she lied. She had to keep to the truth as much as she could. There remained a possibility that Thrand would not be required to rescue her, that she could walk away from this unscathed and Thrand undetected.

‘Where I left him, I presume.' She batted her eyelashes and hoped. ‘He was badly injured in the fight with Narfi. Luckily I found the right track and made my way here.'

‘And you are asking me to believe that you made it across country on your own? Cwenneth, you can barely make it across the castle yard.'

Various people laughed. She raised her chin and glared at her brother. ‘I stand before you. Surely your eyes tell the truth.'

‘Where did you get those clothes?'

‘From Martha. Dain's mother. I stopped there to return Dain's boots. My slippers would not have held up on the long march home.'

Hagal snapped his fingers. ‘She lies. Tell me where this Martha creature lives. Ammundson will be there. Let me send my men. Let me prove this to you. Your sister will be in league with your enemy. He has seduced her. She is damaged goods.'

‘Do you take orders from a Norseman now?' Cwenneth poured all the scorn she possibly could into her voice. ‘Why should you doubt my word?'

Her brother looked from one to another. ‘What am I going to do with you, Cwenneth?'

‘Allow me to live my life in peace. I've no wish to be married to him.' Cwenneth pointed a finger at Hagal. ‘Nor do I wish to enter a convent. And I want my dowry returned to Lingwold's coffers, the dowry that his men stole from the baggage cart. It is all I ask.'

‘We have an agreement, Lingwold. Honour it.' Hagal slammed his fist down. ‘Or it will go the worse for you.'

‘And what was that agreement?' Cwenneth argued. ‘To call your followers and march to Jorvik, demanding Thrand's head? Did you truly think Halfdan would give it? Thrand is his man.'

‘Thrand Ammundson has ravaged our lands!' her stepson shouted and the rest of the high table beat their hands against the wood in agreement.

‘He has been in the south for the last two years,' Cwenneth retorted, meeting his gaze straight on. ‘Thrand has been in the south these past two years. Hagal and his men used Thrand's name to extract the gold.'

‘Who told you this? Ammundson?'

‘Narfi. He was determined that I should understand and despair before I died.'

Her brother frowned. ‘You know little of politics, sister, but you speak very boldly.'

‘I tell you that if you leave Lingwold, you will never see it again. Hagal will ensure it. All of you.' Cwenneth walked over to the table and dumped her brother's wine goblet out on to the rushes. ‘Our father would be disgusted with you.'

‘Hey, what are you doing?'

‘Hagal will claim you were a drunken sot, brother, and that is why you ended up with a knife in your back. And there would be some truth to this assertion. Start acting like the lord of these lands instead of some Norseman's lapdog.'

‘You need to put your tale to Halfdan. He is the only one who is able to tame that mad dog Ammundson.' Hagal pounded his fist on the table, making the goblets jump.

‘And you wish to go to war with the Norsemen? The entire Norse army? The Storting is amassing and they will defend their own. You only have Hagal's word that they will leave their weapons. You and I know what happened in the second siege of Jorvik,' Cwenneth said softly, training her eyes on her brother. ‘Surely we have had too many years of war recently. You first considered this marriage contract because you wanted to plant crops and see your children grow up to honourable manhood. It can still happen, Edward, but not if you blindly follow Hagal the Red, Hagal the False.'

Her brother swayed where he stood and he looked at her. For the first time in a long time, she saw his eyes soften and the brother she had once known return. ‘My sister has returned, unharmed. There is no need for me to go to war with the Norsemen. I will send a message of protest at the kidnapping.'

‘You will do what?'

‘My sister's claims must be properly investigated before I take further action. And once the truth is known, then I will move against the culprit.'

The high table stamped their feet in agreement.

Cwenneth pressed her hands to her eyes. It was over. Edward had seen sense. Hagal had nowhere left to turn. Edward had the greater army.

‘Of all the weak-livered, mealy-mouthed responses!' Hagal strode over to her brother and jabbed him in the chest. ‘You can't do that!'

‘Can't I?' Her brother reached for another jug of wine. ‘I believe I have done it.'

‘Then you're surplus to requirements.' Hagal withdrew a knife and stabbed her brother in the side and twisted.

Before Cwenneth had a chance to scream, her brother collapsed to the floor, clutching his side. Hard hands captured her and dragged her to where the triumphant Hagal stood.

The reality of the situation slammed into her. Her only brother lay bleeding on the floor, possibly dying. Whatever wrongs he'd done her in the past, he'd cared enough to muster an army and, when confronted with the truth, he'd believed her. She'd never been more proud of her brother than when he stood up to Hagal. Somehow she'd find a way to get him help.

Cwenneth clenched her fist. The old woman's curse had no power. She made her own luck.

‘Next!' Hagal called, stepping over her brother's body and giving it a contemptuous kick as he stared directly at her former stepson. ‘I claim the right to lead as Lord Edward is incapacitated. I'm his anointed successor, his brother-in-law and I say we march to Jorvik. Does anyone dispute me?'

‘I do!' Cwenneth cried. ‘You cannot murder in cold blood and get away with it. A marriage contract does not a marriage make. I repudiate it! Get out, Hagal! Go!'

She regarded each of her brother's loyal followers, but they remained seated, pale-faced and immobile. Fear. They feared Hagal more than they wanted to avenge Edward's stabbing.

‘You are a monster!' Cwenneth tore her arms from the restraining hands. She fumbled for her knife and lunged towards him.

‘Shut up and learn your place, woman!' Hagal's hand hit her face with a crack. ‘Be grateful that you still live. You will tell me where Thrand Ammundson truly is.'

The blow would have once set her reeling, but Cwenneth stood her ground and lifted the knife. A great calm settled over her. Panic and running away were not the answer. ‘Never ever raise a hand to me again! You don't frighten me, Hagal the Red! I know you for what you are—a coward and a bully.'

With a hard blow to her wrist, he sent the knife spinning through the air. She stared at him in dismay. Her only chance gone. He captured her face. ‘There will be payment, Lady Cwenneth. You will die slowly and painfully. Who will lift a finger to save you?'

‘I will!' A large man stepped from the crowd and threw back his hood.

Cwenneth's heart gave a leap. Thrand! She wasn't going to die without seeing his face again. She gulped hard. But it meant he was in danger. The children were in danger.

‘Thrand Ammundson. An unexpected pleasure.' Hagal made a slight bow, keeping hold of Cwenneth's face. ‘You will see I have no need of your assistance, Old comrade.'

‘Unhand my woman.'

‘Your woman?' Hagal shook his head. ‘My wife! To do with what I will!'

‘The marriage has never been consummated!' Cwenneth yelled, tearing her face from his fingers. ‘I will never be your wife. But I am proud to say that I'm Thrand Ammundson's woman!'

The entire hall gasped. Edward struggled to sit up. ‘Ammundson is here?' he rasped out, holding his side. ‘Seize him!'

‘No, keep your places! I'll deal with him on my terms,' Hagal said.

No one moved except for Aud, who toddled out towards her. Cwenneth gave a cry and picked him up, holding him close.

‘Bad man,' he said, touching her face and pointing towards Hagal. ‘Bad.'

‘Stay here with me,' she whispered. ‘Your
Far
will beat the bad man.'

‘Will you fight, Hagal the Red?' Thrand banged his sword against his thigh. ‘For the possession of this woman? And the right to command these lands?'

‘You will fight a fellow member of the
felag
?' Hagal gave a pitying smile. ‘I can get you safe passage back to Jorvik or wherever you want to go. Leave now. This is none of your concern. You and I share a fellowship. I'm merely seeking to subdue the north.'

‘My oath permits me to fight for a woman. And even if it didn't, I would still fight. Some things are beyond codes. Some things strike at the heart of a man's existence.' Thrand's face showed no emotion. ‘It is time, Hagal, that we tested our strength. Man to man. Sword to sword.'

‘You won't get out of here alive, Ammundson.' Hagal drew his sword. ‘You know that. They will fall on you when I am gone. Lord Edward, you may die, knowing that I do keep my promises.'

‘Neither will you. I guarantee it.'

They circled each other, testing and probing. Hagal was a worthy opponent who seemed to have studied Thrand's strengths and weaknesses.

Cwenneth put her hand over her mouth. Thrand couldn't lose. Could he? He had said that Hagal was better than good. She started to inch over towards where the knife had fallen.

Thrand went on his back foot and stumbled to one knee.

‘This is the best the great Thrand Ammundson can do?' Hagal raised his sword over his head, preparing to deliver the death blow.

Other books

Eden Falls by Jane Sanderson
Village Matters by Shaw, Rebecca
The Tigress of Forli by Elizabeth Lev
Scrapyard Ship 7: Call to Battle by Mark Wayne McGinnis
66 Metres by J.F. Kirwan