Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kristen came to Royce as soon as he stepped into his chamber, her arms going around his neck to drape loosely there, while her fingers played with the hair at his nape. His brow rose questioningly at this unusual display of welcome.
“Alden tells me you gave him a look earlier that could have smote a man to his knees, and not two hours later, you smiled at him.”
“Ah, well, milord, I let my hate pour out of me, the last of it, ere I put it to rest.” She laughed at his doubtful frown. “I took your warning to heart. Is that so strange?”
“From you, aye.”
“Time will tell.”
One finger traced circles about his ear. Her eyes were soft, inviting, yet her mind was not in tune with what she was doing. She thought if she did not show some curiosity about his new retainer, he would think that strange too.
Casually she said, “I noticed you have a new man. Is that normal, for you to retain strangers?”
Her question had the opposite effect from what she sought, arousing his suspicion instead. “You show not one whit of interest in the King of all Wessex, nor his nobles, yet you ask about this Celt. Why is that?”
“I was no more than curious, milord. All the women talk of him.”
“They can talk,” he said roughly. “’But you will stay away from him. He hates all Vikings as much as I do.”
It was time to redirect his thoughts. Her eyes half closed. Her finger came down along the edge of his jaw, then moved up to slide across his lower lip.
“Do you, Saxon?” she murmured huskily. “Do you still hate all Vikings?”
His answer was to crush her to him with a groan.
And Kristen no longer had other things on her mind.
But her joy in her brother’s return from the dead was prevalent in all she did.
Just as she had grabbed Eda earlier because she had to share her joy with someone or burst, she shared it tonight with Royce.
She was playful and passionate, shy and aggressive.
By turns she was the seductress, the virgin, the wild vixen.
She was everything to him, until Royce ceased to marvel at the changes.
Her throaty laughter, never before heard in his bed, fired his blood to boiling.
He took her again and again, and was only vaguely amazed that he could.
But when she whispered that she wanted more of him, she tempted his soul.
She wrung him dry, and when he finally slept, it was the sleep of the dead.
Kristen slept too. But with her emotions still so charged, for her it was a fitful sleep, from which she was able to awaken early, long before dawn.
She spared only a moment to savor the feeling of being held in Royce’s arms. Then she carefully worked herself loose from his hold and quietly dressed in the dark.
Intuition told her she would find Selig waiting for her.
He was, at the bottom of the stairs. He had waited through the night, sitting with his back to the wall and facing the stairs, sleeping in only short bouts, waking with each little sound he heard.
So he had heard her soft tread and was standing when she reached the bottom of the stairs.
And he was braced to take the weight of her body, which she did indeed throw at him.
They held each other fiercely for long golden moments. And then Kristen leaned back to run her hands over his beloved face. She could not see him. All the torches had ceased to burn, and only vague moonlight came in through the open windows. She did not have to see him.
“I thought you were dead, Selig.” The tears in her eyes were heard in her voice.
“I thought you were.” His hand caressed her hair, and then he pulled her close again, pressing her head to his shoulder. “It is not manly to cry.”
“I know.” She sniffled, thinking he spoke of her tears, until she felt one of his own fall on her cheek. She smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Come. We cannot talk safely here.”
Kristen took his hand in hers and led him around the stairs and to the back door. Like the windows, the door was not locked. Selig hesitated as he stepped outside, expecting to find a sentry on guard.
Kristen recognized his caution. “I do not think guards patrol. I have been out once before at night and saw no one about the yard. But it is not like these Saxons to be so careless. Mayhap there are patrols outside the walls.”
“Then we will deal with them when we come to them. Let us be gone, Kristen.”
She jerked him back when he started to pull her away from the shadows of the hall. “Selig, I cannot leave.”
“Cannot?”
“I gave my word I would not.”
“By Odin! Why?”
She flinched at his tone. “To keep from being chained again.”
There was silence, and then softly: “Again?”
“I had been chained like the others since our capture. My—”
“Who is left, Kristen?” he interrupted.
She gave him every name, and then waited while he thought of those who had died. She noticed the breeze while she waited, teasing at her hair. She heard the sound of night insects chirping. She felt his pain, but knew it could not be as bad as it could have been, for he had thought them all dead.
At last he said, “Go on.”
“My own chains were only removed earlier this week when the Saxon’s King and his nobles came here.
I was harassed by some of the lords, and Royce had my chains taken off so I could look to my own protection while they were here.
But they left this morn—or, rather, yestermorn—and my freedom would have been lost again if I did not swear not to try to escape from here. ”
Frustration marked his words. “You condemned yourself willingly to never leave here?”
“Nay, I compromised. When Royce weds, I am freed from my word.”
“When will that be?”
“Soon.”
He relaxed some, digesting that. She felt it in the easing of his grip on her hand.
She said, “Now tell me, before I burst. How did you escape? I saw you wounded.”
“You saw?”
“Shush!” she hissed at his raised voice. “Of course I saw. I could not stay on the ship after I heard the sounds of battle. I had to help.”
“You, help?”
She ignored the scorn of that. “So I did not help much. But at least I took down the Saxon who wounded you.”
“You did!”
“Selig!”
“Odin’s teeth! You could have been killed!”
“But I was not. Alas, he was not, either. I only wounded him. He recovered and has since done me a good turn, though I would have still tried to kill him. I am glad now I do not have to.” Selig was shaking his head at her, and she added impatiently, “Well, tell me. The last I saw of you, you were lying unmoving on the ground, covered in your own blood.”
“Aye, my wound was bad. I came to my senses as the carts left, taking the captured away.
I had been left with the dead, and as we were all thought dead, no one was left behind to watch.
But I did not know if they would return or not for the burials, so I managed to drag myself away from the carnage in case they did come back.
I meant to stay hidden in the forest for only a few hours, then to follow and see where you were taken. But as I said, my wound was bad.
“I lost consciousness again and did not wake until that night. I found myself too weak to even rise at that point. I do not know how long I stayed there. The cursed wound festered. A fever raged, but I recall little of it. I know I left my hiding place at some point. I remember wandering, searching for the Saxons.”
“As if you could have done much good if you found them,” she chided.
“My mind did not grasp such logic.” He smiled at her. “I only know I kept moving, kept trying to find you and the others before it was too late.”
“Too late?”
“I did not think any of you would be allowed to live. I thought you would be taken to the lord of those Saxons who ambushed us, so that he could dispose of you.”
“He very nearly did,” Kristen admitted softly. “This place, Wyndhurst, has been raided before by Vikings. He lost most of his family in that raid, and has hated Vikings ever since.”
Selig chuckled. “No wonder he let me stay. I told him the same had happened to me. He must have commiserated.”
“How could you tell such a story?” she demanded sharply. “God’s teeth! He will tear you apart if he finds out who you really are. And to think I only worried that you would be chained and confined with the others if he knew!”
He grinned at her surliness. “He will not find out. Ohthere and the others have enough sense not to hail me when they see me.”
“If they do not faint dead away, as I nearly did,” she retorted.
“I noticed your quick recovery.” He laughed.
Kristen hit his chest in exasperation. “Will you just finish your tale!”
Selig choked back another chortle. “You have lost your sense of humor, Kris.” He gave in when she hit him again.
“Very well. I have said I wandered. Even now I do not know for how long, nor how long I lay near death the last time my senses left me. I woke up in the hut of an old Celtic woman. It was she and her daughter who found me on their way back from market at Wimborne. It was a day’s ride from where they found me to their home farther north. ”
“Where is that?”
He shrugged. “I do not think I could find them again. Loki has had a fine time with me. You would not believe how lost I have been.”
“You had only to find the river,” she pointed out.
“Aye, so I thought,” he said with a measure of disgust. “I was with the old woman for nearly two weeks. She was suspicious of me because of the way I was dressed, and I mumbled in a foreign tongue when I was delirious. But because I also spoke Mother’s tongue, which was hers too, she nursed me back to health and even led me to a trader, who took my belt and gold armbands in exchange for these clothes you see and a broken-down horse.
She even directed me to the nearest river. ”
“So?”