Tears of the Wolf (Wrath and Weeping #1)

Chapter 19 Brynn

Brynn

Brynn had been hospitable to her husband’s enemies. She supposed she should be the same to his friends.

Even if his cousin seemed a bit of a boor and the beautiful woman on his arm smiled at Cenric with a little too much familiarity. Even if she doubted Hróarr would be the kind of man to share, everyone had a past. What was to say that this lithe beauty had always been with Hróarr?

In her first marriage, Brynn had always failed to measure up to Paega’s previous lover, even if Mildreth was dead. Whether Mildreth really had been so perfect or whether because it was easiest to idealize the dead, Paega had never gotten over her. He sulked among the cairns and went hunting with his thanes and waited for his life to be over.

Despite her resentment, Brynn had laid flower wreaths of evergreen and offerings of butter and barley meal on the graves of Paega’s first wife and children every single new moon. So now, she served Hróarr and his companion with her own hands as befitted honored guests.

As always, Brynn did what was expected of her.

Cenric invited her to sit with them, but she declined, saying there was work to be done overseeing the household girls. Brynn thought Cenric looked displeased, but she doubted she would be able to keep herself together in front of Hróarr and Vana.

She was struggling as it was, though she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was that Hróarr was so obviously Valdari. Maybe it was how he had looked down on her with obvious disdain. He didn’t like sorceresses, and it showed. Maybe it was that Vana seemed more at ease with Cenric than Brynn was.

Or maybe it was that Brynn’s first reaction to hearing of a Valdari ship approaching had been fear for Cenric. She’d known he was working near the river today and she’d rushed to the riverbank to find him.

She’d been ready to use the full strength of her power to protect him from the Valdari, only to find him laughing and speaking like a native with their leader. Rationally, Brynn could acknowledge that was a good thing, but she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of embarrassment.

Here she had raced across the entire village to rescue him, only to find he had never been in danger. The fear, the desperation, and the blind terror of those few moments had all been for nothing.

In that moment she had realized she cared for Cenric. It wasn’t that she was afraid of losing her place in Ombra. It wasn’t fear of losing her excuse to stay away from Ungamot and Glasney. It was fear of losing him .

Perhaps some of it had been the age difference, but she had always seen Paega as the final judge of her actions. If Paega was displeased with something she did, he must have his reasons. He was so much older and wiser that surely, he must have known better.

Then as the years had worn on, she had realized Paega would never be pleased with her for the simple fact that she was not his first wife. He was a man shattered by grief who had no interest in piecing himself back together. Nor did he care if his jagged edges left a thousand tiny cuts in the heart of the young sorceress who was as trapped with him as he was with her.

With Cenric, Brynn still had some of that same desire to please him, to do her duty, but it was more than that. She admired him. Cared for him. It felt too early in their relationship for her to care this much for him.

Cenric might be precious to her, but she was still a newcomer in his life. He had people close to him, people who had known him for years, who had fought alongside and loved him. He was becoming the center of her world, and she feared that she was still in the periphery of his.

Brynn refilled the mead cups for Cenric, Hróarr, and Vana, leaning over the table.

Snapper and Ash greeted the Valdari like old friends, lounging at their feet and begging for morsels. Even Guin tottered around the older dogs’ legs and accepted pets from Vana. She didn’t even growl. Brynn felt betrayed.

Cenric glanced up at her. “Thank you, wife.”

Brynn tried to smile, but only succeeded in a grimace.

“Sit with us,” Cenric urged, gesturing to a seat at his side.

“I still have much work to do,” Brynn demurred, repeating her earlier excuse.

“I trust it’s not poisoned?” Hróarr chuckled, lifting the overflowing cup to his lips. The ends of his thick mustache dipped into the foam as he drank.

Brynn’s jaw tightened. “Do you prefer your mead with poison?”

Hróarr grinned up at Brynn, but it was a calculating grin, more a flashing of teeth.

Anger flared in Brynn’s chest, hot and viscous. This foreigner, this sellsword, was more at home here than she was. He moved about the house with easy familiarity, like he belonged here. This was her house by rights, but this animal acted as if he was in his own territory.

In the back of her mind, she knew she wasn’t being courteous, but her mouth seemed to move of its own accord.

Brynn kept her tone sickly sweet. “If it is not to your liking, I can provide you with a dose of hemlock. Or perhaps you would prefer nightshade?” She planted one hand on the table, leaning toward the Valdari. “Personally, I recommend the nightshade. It will be the most painful.”

“Brynn.” Cenric frowned. “What are you doing?”

Brynn quailed at that simple question. Was it not enough that she worked herself to exhaustion every day? Was it not enough that she had saved his face in front of his men several times now? Was it not enough that she served his former concubine despite her insults? He had to let his friends disrespect her like this?

Tears stung Brynn’s eyes, and she marched away. There was nothing she could say that would explain what she was feeling or that could smooth over what she’d just done.

She had threatened a guest, an honored guest at that. It had been grotesquely inappropriate, and she would owe Cenric, Hróarr, and Vana an apology, as soon as her anger subsided.

The next time she noticed the three at the head of the table needed more mead, she sent Esa. It might be a snub to send her servant instead, but Brynn didn’t trust herself to be near them again.

She saw to serving the next round of baked bread and even instructed the servants to open one of the wine casks gifted by her uncle. They had been saving those for Blydmoth, but hopefully Cenric would take it as a peace offering.

The Valdari crew howled their delight as the household girls began pouring the purple vintage. Grapes couldn’t be grown this far north, at least not well, and wine was a luxury.

Anger and frustration mingled with self-loathing. She was furious with Hróarr for his disrespect, Cenric for allowing it, but most of all she was angry with herself for not being able to ignore it. Why couldn’t she just do what she was supposed to do? She had done it for years with Paega. Why couldn’t she just take it like she had before?

Because you thought this time would be different .

Brynn simmered through the rest of the night. She saw the kitchens cleared and the fires banked. The Valdari began to withdraw down to their camp near the village.

Vana managed to catch Brynn as she was helping clear away bowls and making sure no one had forgotten their eating knives on the table. “Lady Brynn.”

Brynn tensed but faced the woman. She couldn’t make herself smile but managed a neutral expression. “Yes?”

“I wanted to thank you for hosting us tonight. It was quite short notice.”

Brynn inclined her head. “It was an honor.” The words came out by rote.

Vana hesitated, as if Hyldish words came to her with difficulty. “Hróarr can be…abrasive. He means no harm.”

Brynn wasn’t ready to apologize. She was still too hurt, too angry. Too raw.

“But I wanted to apologize on his behalf for any offense he might have caused.” Vana said it mildly, calmly.

Brynn thought she sounded sincere, but she didn’t know the stranger well enough. Standing before this woman with her gold jewelry and poised demeanor, one might have thought she was the lady of this shire, not Brynn in her stained apron. “Thank you.”

Vana’s lips arched up in a gentle smile. “Cenric speaks highly of you.”

Brynn swallowed, not sure why shame bubbled up at that.

“I look forward to getting to know you better,” the Valdari woman said.

Did this imply that Vana and, more importantly, the Valdari, would be here often?

“Good night, Lady Brynn.”

Brynn forgot to smile with the effort of keeping a neutral expression. She was sure the bejeweled Valdari woman judged her for her outburst. She certainly judged herself.

The Valdari left. Cenric accompanied them down the hill to their tents, because of course he would. Brynn and Cenric had planned to walk together again tonight, but plans had clearly changed. Other people were more important.

Brynn finished her work. She took Guin outside one last time. Guin licked at Brynn’s hands, straining on her back legs to leave puppy kisses along Brynn’s jaw.

At least Guin’s loyalty still lay with her. Brynn fed her another shallow bowl of milk, stroking her coat as she drank. When Guin was finished, Brynn placed the puppy in her basket on Brynn’s side of the bed. Guin curled up in the straw and blankets of her basket, making snuffling puppy sounds.

Esa started the fire in Cenric’s bedchamber and Brynn dismissed the girl to her own bed by the central hearth. It had been a long day, and they were all tired.

Brynn undressed down to her chemise, but the autumn chill had set in, so she pulled on her woolen shawl. Sitting alone on the edge of the bed, Brynn set to combing out her hair. Things had been going well and she thought things were getting sorted out between her and Cenric, but now…

She was still just a silly girl, sure she could make a stranger love her. How could she be this stupid twice?

Brynn redid her braids and tied them off. She might as well climb into the bed. There would be work to do tomorrow. She reached out, sensing the sleeping figures of the household boys and girls nestled into their beds. All was silent. All was peaceful.

She waited, wondering if Cenric might spend the whole night drinking and carousing with his old friends. Still, she waited up for him. She wasn’t sure why.

It was some time before Brynn sensed Cenric coming by his ka. He entered the bedchamber quietly, letting Snapper in first. The dog trotted over to Guin’s basket as Cenric shut the door after him. His face was a mask of shadows by the firelight.

“You were waiting for me?” Cenric sounded surprised.

Brynn pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders, avoiding looking at him. “Your friends are well?”

“They’re fine.” Cenric approached the bed, circling around to her side.

She cleared her throat. “Good.”

Snapper realized Guin was asleep and made a disappointed sound, dropping back on his haunches. He curled beside the basket, settling down for the night.

“I apologized for you.” Cenric sat down beside Brynn, the mattress shifting under his weight. “Hróarr forgave you as soon as he tasted the wine.”

Brynn’s hands clenched into her shawl. So, he agreed she had done something wrong. Brynn had been beating herself up for hours over her outburst, but it still stung Cenric took Hróarr’s side.

“So, what happened?” Cenric fixed her in a steady gaze. He didn’t sound upset, which made it worse.

“I don’t know.” Brynn was so angry, so upset, so frustrated. Her whole life, she had done her duty. She had followed the rules and done the right thing. Yet she never seemed to get a right result.

She had been the dutiful, sweet, and hardworking wife to Paega, but he had been cold to her to the day she left. Despite that, despite how unpleasant it was for both of them, she’d bedded him so she could conceive a child. When that child had come, something in her life had finally been good. She had done everything she knew to do for that child, but in an instant, he had been murdered. Senselessly. Pointlessly.

Now Brynn did everything she knew to do in her new role as lady of Ombra. She served its people, did her best to please Cenric, and tried to make peace with his neighbors. But it had been nearly a month, and despite his heated kisses among the cairns, he hadn’t bedded her. He had to be unsatisfied with her somehow. That was all she could think of.

She’d told Cenric she was willing. But she had all but begged Paega to pay his marriage debt. She didn’t want to have to plead yet again for a man to swyve her.

She was tired of begging for men’s attention when other women seemed to attract it effortlessly, even when they didn’t want to.

Cenric rested his hands on his knees. “You said you were fine with my Valdari cousin visiting.”

Brynn kept her attention on the fire. “I will do better in the future.” It was a phrase she had uttered a thousand times to Paega— better in the future . Because she had proven herself not good enough. She was never good enough.

Cenric exhaled a long breath. “Hróarr has heard there’s a raiding party headed for Leofton, a village north of here.”

“What?” Brynn’s whole body stiffened.

“It’s more than a day on foot, but it’s in my lands.”

Her heart raced, pounding in her ears. “Hróarr told you this?”

“He’s heard rumors.” Cenric grimaced. “I’m taking a few of my thanes with Hróarr’s crew to see if we can head them off.”

“You’re leaving?” Brynn wasn’t sure why her voice cracked at that. “You’re just going to take your thanes and leave us in the middle of the harvest season?”

“I am leaving most my thanes here.” Cenric spoke slowly the way he might to a small child. “We’ll wait a few days to see if the raiding party shows and if not, we will return.”

Inexplicable fear clawed its way up Brynn’s throat. “We’re set to begin slaughtering animals in mere days. We need you here.”

“As I said, I will be leaving most of my thanes. I’m only taking Anders and Kalen with me. Edric will remain here in charge of defense.”

“You can’t be serious.” Of everything he might have said, Brynn had not predicted this. “You can’t just leave. There’s still so much work to be done before winter. What if the raids come here? What if more of your neighbors come?”

“It’s only three of us, Brynn. You’ll be able to manage a few days.”

Cenric was leaving them. He was leaving her.

“Why?” she whimpered. “Have I done something? Have I…” She trailed off, realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

“What?” Cenric cast her a confused look.

“Nothing.” Brynn’s voice cracked. She coughed, clearing her throat. “Have you spoken to Edric?”

“I have. He’s on your side, if that makes you feel better.” Cenric stood and walked to his side of the room. He opened one of the cedar chests and pulled out a leather satchel. “He thinks he should go, and I should remain here.”

“So why don’t you?” Brynn shifted on the bed, something oddly like desperation rising in her chest.

“Because I am the alderman of Ombra.” Cenric placed a rolled blanket inside his satchel, followed by what might have been a whetstone or a flint. “If I can’t defend these people, I have no right to expect their tribute or their service.” He went to the stand where his armor stood guard over the room.

It made sense. Brynn hated it, but it made sense. “Can you take more men?” she asked. “Are there more thanes you could summon from the countryside?”

“There are,” Cenric conceded. “But I want them to stay here and protect the main estate.”

“I just don’t like you leaving with so few of your own men.” Brynn thought that must be it, but she wasn’t sure. “Hróarr is going to commit his men to a fight for you?”

“He’s asking for silver in exchange, but I can’t expect mercenaries to fight for free.” Cenric shrugged.

“So, he’s taking silver to solve a problem only he knows about?” Brynn tried not to sound condescending, but she probably did, all the same. “What’s to say these raiders aren’t his friends and he’s planning to split your payment with them once he pretends to chase them off?”

“You don’t trust Hróarr,” Cenric sighed. “Rowan never liked him, either.”

Brynn didn’t think her husband had meant to hurt her with that, but the words stung all the same. She couldn’t look at him.

Cenric seemed to realize his mistake a moment later. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He smeared a hand over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the words away. “I trust Hróarr, and I need you to trust my judgment in this one.”

Brynn couldn’t argue with that, but she still hated everything about this situation.

Cenric pulled something from beside his kit of armor—a spear with the head wrapped in a protective oilcloth. “Edric will see to constructing the scaffolds and final preparations for the animals while I am gone. The work won’t stop, and we should be back before the end of the week.”

“I don’t want you to go.” The words were out before she considered them.

“I will come back as soon as I can.” Cenric set his spear and packed bag against the wall. “But I have to go, Brynn.”

Brynn clenched her fingers tighter together. She had known they might be raided. She had accepted this, but something about Cenric leaving with the Valdari grated her.

“Vana will be staying here.” Cenric seemed to think that would be a comfort.

Brynn did not consider it comforting at all. “You’re going to leave, no matter what I say.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Cenric countered. “I’m not the one planning a raid on Leofton.”

Brynn bit back her response. Everything she wanted to say would only make this situation worse.

She almost asked him to take her along. She could battle as well as any thane and she could heal anyone who might be injured in the fighting.

But no.

It made sense for her to stay here and tend the main estate in her husband’s absence. It all made sense. Painful sense.

Brynn held her tongue and watched as her husband continued packing.