Tears of the Wolf (Wrath and Weeping #1)

Chapter 23 Brynn

Brynn

According to Anders, Cenric’s thane who had returned two days ago, Hróarr had been right about the raid on Leofton. But now Cenric had gone with the Valdari mercenary to Valdar for some reason having to do with Osbeorn.

Brynn was terrified to consider what that might mean, but luckily, she had a much more immediate concern.

“Daughter, we need to talk.”

“We are talking.” Brynn heaved up the bucket of water in her hands, pouring it into the stone trough running under the wooden fence.

On the other side, Edric along with most Cenric’s thanes and the men of the village worked to move the young cows into the pens.

Selene’s nostrils flared. “In private.”

Brynn glanced over to Gaitha and the other women currently at work carrying their own buckets up from the river. The cattle would only be in the pens for a day or two until slaughter, but they would need water until then.

There was work to be done, and Brynn had to see to it all without Cenric’s help. Not only that, but her mother was proving persistent.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Brynn replied, picking up her bucket and heading back to the river. She raised her voice so Gaitha and the others could eavesdrop more easily. “And there is nothing you have to say to me that they can’t hear.”

Esa worked at carrying water just as Brynn did. The other women pretended not to listen, but Brynn caught their stares. She spotted Rowan among them, eyeing her with that narrow, suspicious stare. Brynn pitied Rowan. She truly did. She was starting to get an idea of just what Cenric put his women through.

“Brynn!” Selene flustered, lifting her skirts as she chased Brynn through the tall grass. “Why are you doing this? Are you trying to punish me?”

“How am I punishing you?” Brynn demanded. “I never asked you to be here.”

“Brynn.” Selene exhaled sharply, her first real sign of frustration all morning.

The woman had been relentless. Every time Brynn left the longhouse, Selene was there. She haunted her daughter’s steps, trying to persuade her of…something. Brynn still wasn’t sure what. She only knew it would involve her mother’s schemes, desires, and the plots of the Istovari Mothers.

Brynn came to the water’s edge and lowered her bucket beside several other women. The women watched Selene with raised brows, though none of them spoke.

Neirin hovered at Selene’s back, her faithful guard. At least Brynn’s mother wasn’t being followed by the twins today.

“You are the daughter of a king.” Selene crouched at Brynn’s side. “Yet you are here, fetching water for cows like a house girl.”

“What is your point?” Brynn drew up another load of water once again.

Brynn had told Cenric she was willing to work, and she had meant it. Anything to keep her from going back to Glasney.

“You are more than this.” Selene shook her head, seeming at a loss. “You were born for more than this.”

Brynn’s jaw tightened. Like a serpent, Selene had chosen the perfect time to strike. With one of the most brutal times for work out of the year and with Cenric gone, she was vulnerable.

“We can get this marriage annulled,” Selene whispered. “It’s only been a month. You can come with me and—”

“And what?” Brynn kept her attention on the path ahead, marching back to the water trough.

Selene made a frustrated sound. She jogged to keep up, her voice low. “Paega has agreed to take you back.”

More likely, Paega had said he wouldn’t stop Brynn returning, but finally she knew why Selene was here.

Brynn tipped her bucket into the trough that was now nearly half full. “Tell me, Mother,” Brynn spun on the woman. “Does the king know you are here?”

Selene gave Brynn a sharp look. “Paega is old, my girl. He probably won’t last much longer. You’ve kept him alive better than anyone expected.”

“Better than you expected.” Brynn headed back toward the river. She had healed Paega’s ailments, treated his injuries without him ever once thanking her.

Selene walked after Brynn, probably looking like a fool to the onlookers. She had to hate that. Selene never liked being embarrassed. “This isn’t just about you,” Selene insisted. “Your marriage to Paega was a great thing for our people.”

When Brynn had married Paega for the good of their people , she thought it was so that sorceresses could live in Glasney. Instead, her mother had made constant requests for resources. Gifts of grain, furs, linen, and sheep. The gifts had been requested for this sorceress, or that sorceress, and Brynn had happily obliged.

Glasney had been wealthy enough to afford it, but when they’d had a bad harvest two years ago and Brynn had not been able to send as much as her mother requested, they’d had their first real fight.

“Brynn, you can do nothing for us here,” Selene said.

“Perhaps that is the point.” Brynn had reached the river again and refilled her bucket. She faced her mother. “I am done, Mother.”

“With what?”

“All of it.” Brynn marched back toward the trough. “Politics. The Istovari. You.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” Brynn emptied the bucket once again. “I do mean it.”

“You would stay here being a workhorse and a broodmare for some northern savage?” Selene’s voice frayed on the last word.

“Careful, Mother. That’s the alderman of Ombra you’re talking about.” Brynn fixed her mother in a hard stare.

All around them, Cenric’s people paused, watching their exchange. Edric and the other men were too far away, but Gaitha leaned against the fence on one arm, watching Selene with interest as did several others.

Selene’s eyes widened and she seemed genuinely at a loss.

“Can you finish this?” Brynn asked Gaitha, gesturing to the water trough. “I am going to go check on the kitchen.”

Gaitha kept her eyes on Selene. “Of course.”

Brynn handed her bucket to Esa.

“Should I come with you, lady?” Esa also watched Selene like the older sorceress might attack at any moment.

“No, stay here and help Gaitha.”

“As you wish, lady.” Esa canted her head, returning to her work.

Brynn began the trek up the hill to the longhouse. Ash leapt up from where she had been dozing in the grass and bounded after Brynn. She had noticed one of the dogs always trailed her these days. Was it coincidence or had Cenric given them the command to guard her?

Selene struggled to follow, panting. Brynn would have felt sympathy if it had been anyone else.

She reached the longhouse and Selene followed her inside. Brynn forgot she was barring her mother from the house for a moment.

Selene hovered over her shoulder while Brynn looked after the house girls’ progress. “Please, Brynn. Just allow us to speak in private. Please. Only once.”

It was a small concession and Brynn hated to give even that, but if she let her mother have this, perhaps she would realize her efforts were useless.

The household girls already had the cakes of bread in the coals and were at work chopping vegetables for the evening stew. Several chickens had been plucked and cleaned for roasting. Everything was in order.

“Fine,” Brynn exhaled. “Once.”

Selene’s face glowed with triumph. It was almost enough to make Brynn go back on her word.

She led her mother into the bedchamber she shared with Cenric. The bedchamber where she’d been sleeping alone for the past two nights. Her mother didn’t need to know she had spent those nights missing Cenric and remembering how it had felt to have him hold her.

Ash swaggered in after Brynn, shamelessly inviting herself inside.

Neirin waited outside, though they kept the door open.

Selene sat on one of Brynn’s trunks by the wall. She indicated the place next to her, but Brynn ignored her. Selene exhaled, as if dealing with a petulant child. “Brynn, this is bigger than you.”

“Isn’t it always?” Brynn stepped over to the basket where she had left Guin. Scooping up the puppy, she stroked under Guin’s muzzle.

The puppy whimpered, standing on her back legs and straining to lick Brynn’s mouth. Ash looked on, watching the puppy with perked ears.

Selene glanced to the door, then back to Brynn. “Aelgar is sickly. Every day it seems he has a new ailment. Not even Wassa can keep up with all his healing.”

“Good thing he has a son.”

“A toddler,” Selene corrected. “A child who will no doubt disappear the moment his father is dead.” Selene said it with morbid certainty. “You know how these things go.”

Brynn did know. Peace lasted as long as a king was alive. When he died, new contenders arose. Even men who had sworn to serve their ruler’s son would scramble for the right to be called king.

It was also custom to kill all the male relatives of the late king, just to be safe. That was what Brynn’s grandfather had done when he had seized power after Offa.

When Aelgar had risen to power after Brynn’s father, most people had been surprised the sickly brother had managed to draw enough support. There had been fighting across nearly every shire, except here in the north, it seemed.

Many aldermen and warlords had tried to subjugate their neighbors, to assert dominance and carve up a piece of Hylden for themselves, but the sorceresses had backed Aelgar. That had been enough. Kingmakers, they were called now, though butchers might have been more accurate.

The slaughter of the two hundred or so animals in the coming days would be nothing compared to the bloodshed Brynn had witnessed. She and the other sorceresses had carved a path of destruction through Aelgar’s enemies like threshers in a field. Never before had the sorceresses gone to war like that. Brynn hoped they never would again.

Most of Aelfwynn’s warrior women had died that day along the Cerin. They had paid for their loyalty in blood.

In exchange, Aelgar had agreed to find husbands for their daughters, sisters, and nieces among his thanes and aldermen. To honor them forever in his household and lands.

He had made good on his promises so far. All the same, he had been too happy to ship Brynn off to the farthest corner of his kingdom at her earliest request. She was a liability to him. Everyone knew it.

“You will find a new king,” Brynn answered, looking down at Guin. “I am sure there are volunteers. Every contender will be trying to win over the Istovari first.”

“Many of them now have Istovari wives,” Selene sighed. “It makes the situation delicate.”

“It is not my problem.” Brynn let those words hang along with the implication that her mother would have to deal with this alone.

“Torswald of Orland has made us a generous offer in return for our support. As soon as you get another child by Paega, you can marry Torswald instead.”

Brynn’s spine stiffened. “No.”

“Have you consummated this marriage yet?” Selene demanded.

“Of course,” Brynn snapped. As soon as the words were out, she wondered if she had said them too quickly.

Selene sniffed. “Don’t act so offended. It did take you years the first time.”

Brynn had to force her jaw to unclench. “You think a northern savage would leave his broodmare untouched?” She threw her mother’s words back in her face, knowing as well as her mother did that there was no way to prove Brynn hadn’t consummated her marriage to Cenric.

Selene studied Brynn, brows raised. The silence lasted a moment too long, but Selene let the matter drop. “Your uncle is not long for this world, my dear. One way or another.”

“I said no.” Brynn’s jaw clamped down hard. “Keep me out of this.”

Selene stood, coming toward her daughter, a look of rapture on her face. “Torswald is willing to make you queen, Brynn. He will keep the title of alderman.”

Panic began to claw up her throat. It was happening. Her mother was trying to drag her into a scheme again. One that would entrap her for longer than a war, or the lifetime of a single broken old man. Brynn clung tighter to the puppy in her arms, the reminder of her new life in Ombra.

“Hylden does not have queens. We never have.” Not even the wives of kings took that title.

“That can change. Things can always change.” Selene’s eyes took on a feverish light. “Everything we have worked for, Brynn. Generations of planning, of seeing plans fall apart, of making new ones.”

Brynn shook her head. “I will not do it.”

“Do this for your people, child. For your family. Do this for your mother.”

“You wanted me to fight in the war, so I did. You wanted me to marry Paega, so I did. You wanted me to have a child by him, so I did.” Brynn almost choked on the words as memories bubbled up.

Paega had been impatient and rough. You asked for this, he had said, stop crying . At least he had gotten it over with quickly and they had only had to do it for a few months before she conceived.

Brynn knew the kind of appetites some women endured and maybe she was lucky, but she had never felt so. The pain of being unwanted was a sting that had never lessened.

“A child will make it easier for you to keep ahold of Glasney.” Selene sounded like she was considering something. “A child with Paega would be ideal. If you can’t get another in a few months, I am sure we can arrange something.”

Brynn blinked at her mother. “I already had a child by Paega. Just like you told me to. And I buried him in Glasney.” Brynn refused to cry, though mention of Osbeorn threatened to make her do just that.

The puppy squirmed in her arms, noticing Ash on the ground and trying to reach the larger dog.

“If you had just kept him with you, this wouldn’t have happened,” Selene snapped. “Those Valdari raiders wouldn’t have stumbled upon him.”

Brynn frowned. “How did you know they were Valdari?”

Selene shrugged. “I don’t, but it does seem like their tactics. Striking at night and all. Even if a spring raid is unusual.”

Brynn wasn’t sure what to make of her mother’s statement. It couldn’t be, could it? Surely her mother hadn’t known anything about the raid? She had been in the far south.

Immediately, Selene changed tactics. “I am sorry, my dear. It is terrible. I too buried my firstborn and—”

“Do you remember what you said to me when my son was born?” Brynn set Guin down and the puppy sprang toward Ash. “Because I do.”

“I believe I congratulated you.”

Brynn raised her chin. “You said not to worry because I was young, and I could still try for a girl.”

Selene’s brow wrinkled. “I never said that.”

“Yes,” Brynn hissed. “Yes, you did.” She would never forget her mother’s words as long as she lived. She’d been exhausted, still covered in sweat and gore, breathing in the scent of her slimy, squirming child, and her mother had tsked in disappointment.

“I would never say something like that.”

“Why are you lying?” Brynn asked the question coldly, voice low. “Always I have done as you wanted.” Brynn’s throat grated and she fought to keep her voice from cracking. “But that was before.” Before Osbeorn. Before she realized she wasn’t the only one who would pay the price for her mother’s schemes.

It would never be enough. There would never be an end to the demands.

“Stop being selfish,” Selene snapped. “You’re being childish.”

“Childish?” Brynn laughed, though her eyes stung.

“Someday, you will have your own daughter, and when—”

“When I have another child, you won’t be permitted anywhere near them.”

“You think I wanted to swyve your father?” Selene demanded, composure cracking. “You think I wanted to birth you or your sister?”

Some part of Brynn had already known that for a long time. Unwanted—that was what Brynn had been her whole life. Paega hadn’t wanted her, neither had her mother. Brynn knew little of her father, but she knew full well he had hoped for a son.

Selene seemed to recover herself. “Your grandmother said to me what I am saying to you—this is not about you.”

On the floor, Guin and Ash bounded in circles, oblivious to the argument taking place over their heads. Guin let off little puppy squeaks that might have been growls and Ash pranced in circles, tail lashing wildly.

“No,” Brynn agreed. “This isn’t about me at all.” She inhaled a long, slow breath. “I must be married to someone. I know that.” An unattached sorceress was a target, especially one of her notoriety. She needed a husband to offer her safety, to be a buffer against competitors for her loyalty. “But I have chosen Cenric. And when we have children, you will stay away from them.”

Selene’s eyes widened. “How dare you.”

“I dare,” Brynn grated.

Neirin coughed, indicating that someone was coming.

Brynn sensed two sources of ka nearing from the main entrance to the longhouse. It was probably Gaitha coming to check on her and another one of the dogs.

“What is so special about this Cenric?” Selene demanded, her voice lowering to a hiss. “As far as I can tell, he has abandoned you less than a month into your union. What makes you so loyal?”

In that moment, Brynn almost forgot she had argued with Cenric before he left. If her mother was against Cenric, that was a strike in his favor.

The two figures were coming closer. Neirin moved to block them, but they didn’t seem deterred.

Selene started speaking faster, realizing her time was running out. Whoever was here was probably going to end their audience. “What about him is different from any other man?”

Brynn was ready for them to be done. “He’s honorable, generous, and brave and I’d rather be his wife than anyone’s queen.”

“You are a stupid girl. A stupid, stupid girl.” So, Selene was resorting to insults now? That might have cowed Brynn a few years ago, but she was beyond caring now.

“Get out,” Brynn ordered, her arm sweeping toward the door.

“This is a mistake.” Selene stepped toward Brynn, shaking her finger in her face. “You will regret this.”

“I believe my wife told you to get out.”

Brynn jumped. “Cenric.” Her face heated. How much had he heard? “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” Cenric leaned one arm against the doorway. It looked as if he’d shoved Neirin aside and why shouldn’t he? It was his house, after all. A scab marked his lower lip and the knuckles of his right hand bloomed purple. Had he been in a fight?

Something in her chest unclenched at the sight of him. He might have been in a fight, but he was home.

Snapper bounded through the door, nearly crashing into Ash and Guin. The newcomer’s tongue lolled out the side of his mouth in a doggy grin as he left slobbery kisses over Guin and Ash spun happily to greet him.

Cenric’s attention remained on Selene. “Why are you still here?”

Selene’s eyes widened, her back stiffening with indignation.

“You will speak to Lady Selene with respect!” Neirin said.

“Respect is for guests,” Cenric answered. He seemed perfectly unthreatened by Neirin, but Brynn noticed his right hand remained free, ready to grab the sword at his side. “This woman has been told to leave. That makes her a trespasser.”

“This is not over,” Selene grumbled to Brynn, moving toward the door.

“I think it is,” Brynn snapped, putting the weight of her final decision into the words.

Selene and Neirin stormed out the bedchamber and back to their camp in the field, which should now be mostly occupied by Valdari. That would make her mother uncomfortable. Good.

“Is that your mother?” Cenric jerked his head in the direction Selene had gone.

“Yes.” Brynn wasn’t sure why she felt suddenly self-conscious.

“Edric mentioned she’d showed up.” Cenric scratched at his beard, still leaning against the doorframe. He cleared his throat. Was he… nervous?

“Anders said you’d gone to Valdar because of Osbeorn.” Brynn still didn’t understand. She suspected, but she was afraid to know.

She didn’t want to find out that her son had been murdered by Hróarr or another of Cenric’s friends. Just now, it might be her worst fear—the fear that Cenric might bring her son’s killers into their home, to their table.

“I wanted to find you answers.” Cenric exhaled softly. “I would want answers, and I would want the man to answer for it.”

Brynn shook her head, her voice coming out as a whimper. “At what cost?

Cenric’s brow furrowed. “What?”

The words tumbled out all at once. “I…I didn’t know what to think and I…” Brynn’s voice cracked. “Was it anyone you know? Was it Hróarr?”

“No, of course not.” Cenric blinked at her, seeming genuinely surprised.

That was some relief. At least she wasn’t going to have to serve her son’s murderer at feasts. “Alright.”

“But I did find him.” Cenric looked to his bruised knuckles. “We brought him back with us.”

Brynn’s chest coiled with a thousand feelings at once—sickening dread, anger, and the desire to run. At the same time her hands clenched with the impulse to strangle someone. “How do you know it’s him?”

“Come.” Cenric stepped away, toward the end of the longhouse. “It will be easier to show you.”