Hearts Aflame (33 page)
He should have exploded into fury himself. Instead
he laughed. “’Twas only a simple question, Kristen. Why are you so defensive?”
His laughter worked on her like magic, soothing the edges of her pique. Why
was
she still keeping this secret? There had been reason to in the beginning, but not anymore.
Kristen smiled at her own foul temper. Eda turned away, shaking her head at such quick changes of mood. Royce was just as confounded. The way she could master turbulent emotions so easily was uncanny.
“Forgive me, milord,” Kristen said, though she did not look at all contrite. “I did not mean to push you…well, I did, but I am sorry for it.”
“Which does not mean ’twill not happen again.”
“True.” Her eyes laughed at him.
Royce grinned, shaking his head. “Do you answer my question now?”
She shrugged. “I pray to my mother’s God.”
“Then why not call him by name?”
“I did.” At his raised brow, she explained, “My mother’s God is your God.”
He stiffened, humor flown. “How is that possible?”
“Very easily, milord. Vikings have raided other lands for many, many years. Raids bring home Christian captives. My mother was one. My father’s mother was also Christian. My father and brothers”—she smiled here—“they do not take chances and worship all gods.”
“And you?”
“I believe in the one true God.”
He frowned, reminding her sharply, “You defended your friends’ intent to sack a monastery!”
She frowned back at him. “I did not defend. I understood, which is more than you are willing to do. I told you my brother would not tell me their intent. I did not tell you why, but the why is that he knew I would fight with all my heart to change his course. So he did not tell
me. So he came here and he died! I know in my mind ’twas God’s will, but half my blood is Viking blood and my heart cries for revenge. Do you tell me Saxon Christians do not avenge a loved one’s death?”
He could not tell her that. The church abhorred blood feuds, but could not prevent them.
“Why did you never tell me you are Christian?” he demanded.
“What difference would it have made? Your other slaves are Christian and yet they are still slaves.”
“It makes a difference, Kristen. It gives us a common bond, and gives me the leverage I have lacked to deal with you. It gives me something to trust in.”
Her eyes slanted suspiciously. “What are you saying, Saxon?”
“I can accept your word if you will swear in God’s name. Swear you will never try to escape from here, and you will have the same freedom afforded the other servants.”
“No more chains?” she asked incredulously.
“None.”
“Then I swear—”
She stopped herself. This was too fast. She was committing herself without thinking about it first.
“Kristen?”
“God’s teeth!” she snapped. “Give me a moment.”
Never
, he had said. Never was forever. What would happen when he no longer wanted her, when he had a wife to see to his needs? She would hate it here then, and no doubt come to hate him, too. And yet by her word she would have to stay here, to go on serving in this hall—forever.
She gave him a level look. He would like that. What did he care for her feelings? But then, he must care something, or he would not be willing to make this bargain with her.
“Very well, milord. I swear in God’s name that I will not try to escape from Wyndhurst—until such time as you marry.” His eyes narrowed, and she added reasonably, “I am sorry to say it, but I do not like your betrothed. I do not think I will be able to tolerate this place once she rules the hall.”
“Done,” he snapped.
“You mean it?” she asked in surprise. “You accept those terms?”
“Aye. ’Twill just mean you will be back in chains at that time.”
She gritted her teeth, chagrined. “So be it. But that is all I will swear to.”
“Nay, you will also swear you will not aid your friends in escape.” He touched a finger to her lips to still her angry cry. “Until such time as I wed.”
“Done!” she retorted bitterly. “But I will
not
swear off my vengeance!”
“Nay, I know you will not,” he said regretfully. “Alden is sufficiently recovered to protect himself against you. I will trust in his ability, as long as you do not attack him in his sleep.”
“I seek revenge, not murder,” she replied with contempt.
“Very well. Then I only need warn you that if you do kill Alden, I will be forced to take your life in payment.”
Those were his last words. He walked away, leaving her simmering in exasperation. Somehow she did not feel she had come out the winner in this bargain, either.
R
oyce returned to the hall in the late afternoon after putting his men through strenuous practice on the training field, something they had lacked in the last five days. The hall was back to rights. Tables had been put away during the day, and Darrelle was back to holding court in her sewing area. Darrelle. She had barely spoken to him since it became clear to her that he was sleeping with Kristen.
She was expressing her disapproval in a sulk, which ordinarily would not bother him in the least. But Royce found himself again comparing her with Kristen, who did not sulk, who did not keep her displeasure to herself but voiced it most bluntly. Strange, but the bluntness was not as irritating as getting countless sullen looks over a matter of weeks.
Mayhap he should find Darrelle a husband, despite her adamant insistence that she did not want one.
“Did your sister give particular attention to any of our departed guests?” Royce put the question to Alden.
They sat at the game table, the game in progress one of war strategy. Alden paid scant attention to the question, as it was his turn to deploy his army.
“I have not given it much thought.”
“Do.”
Alden looked up then, a grin coming slowly to his lips. “I swear you have the strangest things on your mind of late. Now that you mention it, she did seem more lively while Wilburt was here.”
“Corliss’s brother?” Royce was surprised, but after he digested that, he ventured, “Think you she would like him for husband?”
Alden whistled softly. “Does she know you are thinking along these lines?”
“How can she know what I am thinking when she will not talk to me?”
“Aye, she is not happy with you, but for that you would give her in marriage?”
“I cannot say I would not rather someone else be the recipient of her sulks, but do you not think ’tis time she wed?”
“Aye, long since time. But she will not, not until you do.”
“What has that to do with aught?” Royce demanded.
“Come now, Cousin. Why do you think she has refused all these years to let you arrange her a marriage? She is afraid that with no lady in this hall, ’twill fall into slovenly neglect, which is no doubt true.”
Royce grunted. “If you knew that was her reason, Cousin, as her brother, you should have told me ere now.”
“And have to deal with her sulks for revealing a confidence?” Alden looked appalled. “You jest, Cousin. But speaking of marriage, when do you commit to yours?”
“When I have the time,” Royce said tersely. “And do not say I have the time now, for I will tell you I do not.”
Alden shook his head. “If you do not want to marry her—”
“I never wanted to marry her, Alden. It just seemed the appropriate thing to do after…well, it seemed appropriate.”
“Then break it off.”
“Aye, easy words from a man not involved,” Royce said sourly.
Alden chuckled knowingly. “Life was certainly simpler here before the Vikings came.” For that he got a dark look and he laughed the harder.
The attention of both men was drawn abruptly to the front of the hall, where two of Royce’s men came in escorting a stranger. He was an extremely tall man, and a Celt by the look of him. Both factors made him of interest, especially the latter, after the recent trouble they had had with the Cornish Celts.
He was brought to stand before Royce as the report was given of how he was found west of here on Wyndhurst land. A search had been made far and wide to determine if he in truth traveled alone, as he claimed, and no one else had been found. He rode a broken-down nag that should have been kindly disposed of long ago. He carried no possessions save an old rusted sword, the hilt in an ancient Celtic design.
Royce accepted all that for what it was worth as he gazed thoughtfully at the man. He had never seen another man quite this handsome, for all his bedraggled appearance. His hair was overly long and tied back with a strip of leather. And he was dressed no better than the poorest serf, with loose long-sleeved tunic belted with a frayed rope, and threadbare chausses with ragged holes in them. Yet there was nothing subservient about his bearing. Dark-gray eyes met Royce’s boldly. There was no belligerence, no wariness, no slyness, nor even tension. It was a look Royce was more accustomed to from an equal, and it pricked his curiosity.
“Who are you?”
“I do not understand.”
Royce tensed, hearing the Celtic tongue. Most Celts west of here spoke the Saxon tongue, as they lived side by side with Saxon. Not so the Cornish Celts who so often raided his land.
He repeated the question in the stranger’s tongue.
“I am called Gaelan.”
“Of Cornwall?”
“Devon.”
“A freeman?”
“Yea.”
Royce frowned. He did not say much, this freeman of Devon. “How do I know what you say is true?”
“Why would I lie?”
“Why, indeed,” Royce grunted. “You are a long way from your home. Where do you go that takes you across my land?”
“I search for a lord to serve who will fight the Danes. Have I found him?”
Alden laughed at Royce’s surprise. “’Twas the last thing you expected to hear, eh, Cousin?”
Royce gave him a quelling look, then eyed the Celt narrowly. “There are many lords ’tween here and Devon who will fight the Danes. Why come so far east?”
“There are none who prepare in earnest. I want assurance I will see true fighting.”
“Why?”
“’Tis not enough the Danes have wrested land in the north to settle on, they still raid by sea. I lived in a fishing village on the southern coast. ’Twas destroyed in a Viking raid. I lost my wife, my two sons, my family, and my friends. No one was left alive.”
“Save you. Why is that?”
“I was hunting inland. I returned in time only to see the ship sail away.”
It was a story Gaelan had told again and again in his search. It served him well with these Saxon lords. And these two before him were disturbed more than most. Was his search at last over?
“When was this?” Royce demanded.
“At the start of summer.”
“Why do you say ’twas Danes who attacked your village?”
“Who else has plagued this land for so long?”
A look passed between Royce and Alden, before Royce glanced down at his fist, clenched on the table. The question was not answered.
It was Alden who told Gaelan, “If the Danes cross into Wessex again, we will be there to stop them. You have the will to fight, but can you?”
“I—I will need training.”
“And if my cousin agrees to train you, how do you serve him in return?”
“I offer to serve as personal guard—because of my size.”
“Even if you could fight, look at me,” Royce interjected. “Do I look as if I need protection?”
The gray eyes crinkled as a slight grin formed on Gaelan’s lips. “The other lords I petitioned were not as well set as you, milord. I am willing to serve in any way you request, if you will accept me.”
Alden switched to their own tongue to ask Royce, “Well, Cousin? We can always use another man, and one this size, with the right training, will be a valuable man.”
“I do not like it,” Royce replied.
“You think he will end his quest for revenge when he sees your prisoners?”
“There is that.”
“But you have them so well guarded he could not get near them.”
“Kristen is not so well guarded,” Royce said shortly.
Alden rolled his eyes heavenward. “Of course, now she has the freedom of Wyndhurst, she is not guarded at all. You could always confine her freedom to the hall, and restrict the Celt from it.”
“I made a bargain with her. I cannot change it now.”
“And I was but jesting, Royce. By all reason, he would not harm her. He wants the blood of Vikings, not a woman’s. If you doubt that, test him. But do not send him away for such a weak possibility. That would be taking your caution of the wench too far, especially when there cannot be any woman alive who sees to her own protection as that one does. And if that is not enough, your quest is the same as his, yet you did not harm her.”
Royce’s lips turned down in disgust. All true. He glanced again at the Celt, who stood there a model of patience.
“We were likewise raided by Vikings this summer,” Royce said, watching closely the man’s eyes. “We were more fortunate than your village in defeating them.”
“You killed them all?”
Even Alden raised a brow at the force of those words, and he offered, “’Tis unlikely they were the same Vikings. These were Norwegians, after riches. ’Tis doubtful they would raid a fishing village that would offer little plunder.”
“But you killed them?”
“Not all. Those captured are prisoners here. They are forced to work toward our defenses.”
“They are also under my protection,” Royce added, not liking at all the way the man relaxed as soon as Alden mentioned they had prisoners.
Gaelan heard the threat and replied accordingly. “If you have enslaved these Vikings, then justice is met. They will raid no more. I want those still running free in the north, for ’tis likely that is where the ship sailed that raided my village.”
“If I accept you, Gaelan of Devon, will you work toward building my defenses, along with the prisoners?”
The man tensed. “I will not seek my vengeance of them, milord, but do not ask me to work beside them.”
“I do ask it. ’Tis the only work I have at this time for a man of your size. You did say you were willing to do aught that was requested of you.”