Chapter 14 Cenric #3
“I suppose.” Cenric saw no reason why not.
Eponine’s power passed along the mother’s line, so even if Havnar had been an Istovari, it wouldn’t have mattered to future generations unless his wives had been Istovari as well.
Cenric had never heard anything about the First of Fathers being a sorcerer, but there weren’t many stories about Havnar before he had settled Valdar.
“A master cast those spells, whoever they were. Or perhaps several masters working together.” Brynn sighed. “But with the death of the tree, I suspect their spells won’t last much longer.”
Cenric cursed under his breath. This was getting better and better. “Could you recast the spells?”
Brynn considered it for a moment, then seemed to dismiss it. “Anything I did would be temporary. Without the yew tree to provide a continuous source of ka, the monsters would still break free.”
“Do you think Ovrek killed the Grandfather Yew?” Cenric wasn’t sure why, but he needed to hear her answer.
“Not intentionally,” Brynn answered without much thought. “The burned child said she’d had to free herself and the Wulfwir. I think Ovrek just weakened it to the point the monsters were able to kill it.”
That made things a little better, Cenric supposed, but only a little. “The monsters…you were able to kill one?”
Brynn closed her eyes for a moment. “I had to strike a killing blow. They heal from everything else.”
Cenric ran a hand through his hair. Having an enemy that wouldn’t bleed out sounded like a nearly impossible task.
It was hard enough to behead fowl with only a single blow of a hatchet.
Striking off a head with one attempt took skill, the right angle, and the right blade.
Brynn’s power was one of the few ways Cenric had seen it done to anything bigger than a goose.
“Does Ovrek still think I did it?” Brynn didn’t have to elaborate on what she meant.
Cenric watched the fire. “Ovrek will likely offer me a boon for saving his life, but I don’t know if it will be enough.”
“To save me, you mean?” Brynn stroked one hand along Guin’s fur.
Cenric kicked at the dirt.
“I know who did it,” Brynn admitted. “I just can’t prove it.”
Cenric shot her a glance. “Who?”
Brynn’s shoulders slumped as if in defeat. “Sifma. I don’t think she meant to do it. I think she panicked after I healed Gistrid. Maybe Gistrid lied and said I’d been able to save the baby. I don’t know. But my guess is that Sifma poisoned her again immediately after.”
“She was trying to cause a miscarriage in the concubine?” Cenric considered it barely a heartbeat. “That makes no sense. Even if it had been a son, Tolvir is older and Sifma’s position is secure.”
Brynn’s brow pinched. “I don’t think it was jealousy.” She stroked Guin’s fur.
“Then why?”
Brynn met his eyes then and bit her lip. “Tolvir…” she glanced to where the warriors waited, making sure they were out of hearing distance. “Tolvir cannot keep a secret. His mother must know it.”
“What are you saying?”
Brynn leaned over and whispered in Cenric’s ear, her voice soft, barely audible. And it was a good thing, too. “Gistrid slept with Tolvir.”
Cenric straightened, shaking his head. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“He cannot keep a secret.” Brynn’s eyes turned sad. “He gave too much away when he attacked me.”
Cenric struggled to believe it. Ovrek had been cuckholded by his own son?
“It was probably when the two of them were betrothed, before she entered an arrangement with his father.”
That excused Tolvir somewhat, but it was still going to be an outrage if it came out. Cenric swore, hands clenching into fists. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, this made perfect sense.
Brynn was a convenient outlet for Sifma’s blame.
She was a foreigner, from a country that the Valdari would be invading soon.
Who better to take the fall to cover up the secret?
Sifma must be desperate to keep this hidden, not only for the sake of her son, but her husband as well.
This would destroy them both. It would be the death of Tolvir and the destruction of everything Ovrek had ever hoped to achieve in life.
Sifma’s guilt was less important than what Ovrek would believe.
He hated to be wrong and for him to be wrong not only about Brynn, but also about his own queen might be more than his pride could bear.
Cenric had recently saved Ovrek’s life, so that might earn him credibility, but perhaps not enough for that.
Gistrid’s murder was an embarrassment to Ovrek. For people to learn the murderer was Ovrek’s wife who had gone behind his back would be outright humiliation.
There was only one person who could convince Ovrek that Sifma had poisoned Gistrid, and she would not do it unless forced, which meant Cenric had to force her. The realization made him feel cruel and used at the same time.
He had always tried to be honorable, especially with people he respected, but the only option left was far from honorable. Ovrek and Sifma had forced him to this.
Cenric kicked dirt into the fire. He picked up a piece of kindling and snapped it in half before tossing it into the flames.
Brynn seemed to wilt before his frustration. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know how I survive this one.”
Cenric faced her, resting his hands on her shoulders as he pulled her around to him. “I will deal with it.”
Brynn’s face was red and blotched. “I know you might not have a choice in what happens. I know you tried.”
Cenric silenced her with a kiss. Her lips were cold, but she returned it, her mouth tentative against his, shy as she had been in the beginning. He rubbed her arms, wanting to stir life back into them. “I will be back soon. I’m leaving Kalen, Esa, and the other thanes with you this time.”
Brynn bit her lower lip.
Cenric took the sprig of pennyroyal and stood, mind rattling in a hundred different directions. He singled out Kalen. “Stay with them.”
The boy’s brows pinched in determination as he straightened. He might not be able to prevent another attack from Tolvir, but he would at least be another witness.
He passed the same order to Ugba and Anders, commanding them to watch Brynn as well as the ship. The men both frowned, doubtless bursting with questions about the events since last night, but didn’t argue.
Cenric glanced down at the pennyroyal in his fist. It was all they had.
He had faith in Brynn. If she believed Sifma had done it, that was good enough for him. There was a time when Sifma had been above reproach in his mind, but that could be said about a lot of people these days.
Cenric realized he was heading toward the great hall before his plan had fully formed. The beach was abuzz with bloodlust as men scoured the ships for signs of Egill’s crew. From the sound of it, most the jarl’s men had disappeared.
It wasn’t surprising. They must have known that they would be marked for death in the event their jarl failed to kill Ovrek. How many of them had known of the plan?
Cenric found Vana on the way back from the great hall herself, probably having just seen to Hróarr. Her silver torque marked her out as a woman of means and she might be mistaken for a queen herself from the confident way she moved.
“Vana,” Cenric called to her as soon as she was in earshot.
“Cenric.” Vana’s smile was guarded. “Hróarr tells me that he returned your wife.”
Cenric wondered how much Hróarr had told her about that. Perhaps it was best not to continue this line of conversation. “I need your help.”
Vana raised her chin. “Oh?”
Cenric focused on the great hall over her shoulder, not quite able to meet her eye. “Queen Sifma is in the weaving house. I need you to deliver a message for me.”
Sifma, according to Ovrek, spent her days in the weaving house. Men were forbidden from entering, so Cenric would need a woman to at least deliver his message for him. It would have to be a woman who spoke Valdari, could be trusted, and had a rapport with Sifma. Cenric knew of only one.
Vana folded her arms beneath her shawl. “Hróarr says you punched him in the face.”
“He deserved it.” Cenric glanced to where the warriors were dividing up to search the different storehouses and workshops.
“We’re worried about you, Cenric.” Vana studied him carefully. “This situation is—”
Cenric bristled. “Will you help me or not?”
Vana exhaled. “Is this about the sorceress?”
“No.” It was a half-truth, but if Vana wanted full truths, she should have left Brynn out of this. “This is about the plot against Ovrek.”
“Why can’t you tell Ovrek about it?”
Cenric fixed Vana in a hard stare. They had been close once.
Close enough that Cenric had fancied himself in love with her.
But Vana had chosen Hróarr over him, and that had stung at the time, but it was long past. All the same, Cenric hoped now that there were enough tender feelings left that she would be merciful.
If nothing else, he hoped there was still some guilt.
“If I ever meant anything to you at all, do this one thing for me.”
He couldn’t tell Vana the whole truth of what he and Brynn had learned. That would put her in danger and the more people who knew, the greater the likelihood it would come out. Even if the secret did come out, Cenric wanted that to happen when he, and more importantly Brynn, were far, far away.
Vana exhaled a long breath. “Fine.”
Cenric canted his head in thanks. “This way.”
Voices shouted and men ran all around them. It seemed that Ovrek was turning Istra inside out.
Cenric didn’t notice any of the ships missing, at least not from what he could tell.
The beach was packed. That must mean the men had gone inland, but that seemed odd.
The only thing there were trees and rocks and difficult mountain passes.
There was a reason Valdari did nearly all their traveling by sea.