Chapter 15 Brynn #2
“I do.” Tullia sounded wholeheartedly sincere. “There is no one in the world I esteem as highly as him.” For barely a moment, a shadow passed over her face, then it was gone. “But I am not as forgiving as my mother is.”
“I saved your father’s life today,” Cenric said, voice rising. “He trusts me.”
“Which gives you an advantage. He’ll never see it coming,” Tullia purred. “Or you.” She pointed at Brynn. “You can kill without lifting a finger, I’ve heard.”
This could be a test of loyalty sent by Ovrek to see if they would betray him. Or this might be a genuine offer and their only chance at escape. Brynn could almost feel the same thoughts radiating from her husband.
“Think on it.” Tullia cocked her head to one side. “I am a good friend to have. When I rule Valdar, you will be glad we are friends.”
Tullia wanted to rule? So, it wasn’t just piety that had turned her against her father.
Brynn had suspected as much. Tullia was more experienced and far more competent than her brother.
Assuming the Valdari decided to continue having monarchs after Ovrek, Tullia would be a strong contender.
Tullia must know this and clearly possessed the ambition to pursue it.
“Ovrek has been good to me,” Cenric countered. “I would have nothing without him.”
Tullia seemed to find that funny. “Neither would I,” she snorted. “But everything has its time. Even the Grandfather Yew.”
“You knew?” Brynn blinked in realization. “You knew it had died?”
“Yes,” Tullia shot back, bitterness stinging in the words. “He cut down three of the Grandfather Yew’s offshoots late last summer. All for that ghastly ship he named after my mother.”
“Do you know about the monsters?” Brynn asked, a thought occurring to her.
Tullia locked her gaze on Brynn. “What monsters?”
How to tell this woman that her father’s actions were about to unleash the creatures of nightmares on Istra? On the whole island? The men sent to confirm Brynn and Hróarr’s report had still not returned.
“Ovrek is my friend.” As soon as the words were out, Cenric turned to Brynn.
Squeezing his hand, Brynn offered reassurance.
Brynn did not see Ovrek as a good man. He was an inseparable mix of generosity and greed, kindness and cruelty, vices and virtues balanced on a knife’s edge. From what Brynn had seen, Tullia was almost a mirrored reflection of him—neither good nor bad, complicated and simple all at once.
Tullia had claimed that she didn’t want Ovrek to invade Hylden, but what if she chose to lead an invasion herself? For that matter, what was to say that she would be the one to take control of Valdar, not one of the many jarls who had been Ovrek’s rivals?
“Ovrek has always dealt fairly with me,” Cenric continued. “I will not betray him.”
“Always?” Tullia’s brows rose at that. “My father has been desperately trying to find a woman with king’s blood for my little brother. Did you know that the night after you arrived, he discussed taking your wife for Tolvir?”
Brynn’s skin crawled at that, like pond scum had been poured down her back.
“Ovrek wouldn’t,” Cenric growled. “I’d kill him.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Tullia winked at him.
Cenric blanched.
“My father didn’t intend to rob you outright, just a forced trade. He meant to compensate you with me, I believe.” Tullia’s tone turned hard, bitterness creeping in at the edges of her words.
Cenric went very still. Something in Tullia’s allegations must have rung true.
Tullia made a dismissive gesture. “My mother was able to talk him out of it, but if he gets the idea into his head again, who knows?”
Brynn gripped Cenric’s arm to stop him from doing anything rash. They had only Tullia’s word for this. While they might not be able to trust Ovrek fully, this woman was trying to get them to murder her father.
“Before the wine,” Tullia repeated, stepping back.
“And if we don’t?” Cenric pressed.
Tullia shrugged. “Then take your chances with my father.”
“You’re not going to threaten us with retribution?” Cenric pressed.
“Why ever would I do that?” Tullia gazed across the water.
“My father will never believe it if you tell him of this conversation. And I already have plans to deal with him if you do not.” Tullia turned once again to the pair of them.
“But I like you, both of you. It’s maudlin, I know, but you seem to be in love.
” Her gaze drifted down to their clasped hands before returning to their faces.
“I’m risking much by offering this, but my offer stands. ”
Brynn didn’t know what to say. Cenric remained silent at her side.
“Very well. Think on it. If you plan to throw yourselves on my father’s mercy, keep in mind he has very little.” Tullia smiled warmly, gesturing for her servants to follow her. She swaggered away, not looking back.
That left Brynn and Cenric alone on the beach with their dogs and the Valdari guards a few steps off, ignorant of what had just transpired.
Cenric stared ahead for a long moment. “Ovrek wouldn’t betray me like that,” he insisted, voice hard. “She has to be lying.”
Brynn squeezed his hand back, neither arguing nor agreeing. “She must have been the one who put Egill and his son up to their attempt.”
Cenric’s jaw worked as he stared across the water. He cursed, letting off several oaths in both Valdari and Hyldish. “I’m not a traitor.” Cenric faced Brynn. “I won’t do it. Not…not like this.”
“I know.” Brynn grasped his other hand. “I don’t think we should.”
Cenric’s relief was almost palpable. “You don’t?”
Betrayal was a dangerous line to cross. Even Brynn’s mother had wielded that weapon sparingly. “I don’t know what Tullia plans, but I don’t think we can trust her any more than Ovrek.”
Cenric cursed again. “Things were never this complicated during the war.”
Brynn offered a wan smile. “Were they less complicated or were you too far beneath politics at the time?”
Cenric cast Brynn a dour look. “You make too much sense sometimes.”
Brynn bowed her head, looking to their joined hands. “We can’t run. It would only speed your foretelling of Ovrek taking Ombra.”
Cenric grumbled incoherently. “He’d never believe me if I said Tullia wanted him dead, but I might be able to warn him there’s another attempt coming.”
“You might.” Brynn didn’t really believe it.
“This whole thing is wretched.”
“We need to get ready for the feast,” Brynn said quietly.
“I suppose.” Cenric made no move to leave their spot on the beach. “I don’t know what to do. It seems like every choice is the wrong one.”
“I feel the same,” Brynn admitted.
Cenric pulled her into his arms, tucking her under his chin for just a moment. He squeezed her tight and Brynn pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the comforting thrum of his pulse. They stayed like that for a long space of heartbeats, not moving.
Finally, they broke apart, heading back to their ship and tents.
Esa helped Brynn change into a new shift and dress.
She pinned Brynn’s hair back under the blue silk veil Sifma had given her and helped Brynn adjust her necklace of carnelian beads.
Cenric wanted her to wear the silver cuff he’d received from Ovrek, so she did.
Kalen helped Cenric into his feasting attire with the embroidered tunic Brynn had sewn for him and his rabbit-lined mantle secured with his wolf’s head brooch.
Brynn decided to leave Guin with Esa in their tent. Kalen was to stay and guard Esa, as always. Their thanes who had returned from hunting down traitors with Ovrek’s men also remained behind.
Brynn stepped outside with Cenric, and her two Valdari guards followed. They said something to Cenric and he answered in clipped Valdari.
Cenric took her hand, tugging her against his side protectively. Her husband was tense, uneasy. She supposed she was, too. She felt that way she had every morning for years after her father had died—taut as a bowstring and expecting danger at every sound.
They reached Ovrek’s hall, the towering structure looming over them like a hungry beast. By the fading light of the evening, the doors seemed to be its maw, eager to swallow them all up.
They entered inside with the crowd and their two guards drifted off, disappearing into the throng. It seemed the men did not have orders to continue watching Brynn.
The scene was much as it had been a few nights ago. Brynn recognized several faces, and most people occupied the same benches.
Yet a pall seemed to hang over the room. The death of Gistrid and the attempt on Ovrek’s life had left a shadow over them. It was a bad sign. Brynn wasn’t sure if news of the Grandfather Yew’s destruction had spread yet, but it would soon if it hadn’t already.
Ovrek shouted at the sight of Cenric, calling out in Valdari. The king greeted her husband with his usual effusiveness, clapping Cenric on the back and presenting him to several jarls he had just been speaking with.
Cenric let go of her hand to give his full attention to the king, playing the part they both knew he had to. He pulled Ovrek in, speaking quickly and softly.
Ovrek yanked away, shaking his head.
Cenric tried again, but Ovrek waved a hand, dismissing him.
The king greeted Brynn next, though it was in Valdari this time.
Brynn’s chest twisted a little at that. It meant Ovrek was more interested in putting on a show for the onlookers. It was a bad sign.
“I tried,” Cenric grated. “I tried to warn him there will be another attempt tonight.”
Brynn searched her husband’s face, though she could already see the answer there.
Cenric’s jaw flickered with frustration. “He wants his enemies to try.”
Pride. Such pride. It seemed that was the one constant that could be depended upon when it came to kings.
The wine would likely not be served until after a few rounds of ale. What other means did Tullia have prepared if Brynn and Cenric declined her offer, as they intended to?