Chapter 5
There it was. The market hall with its wooden pillars.
Before leaving the hut, Steinar had not dared ask Ulf too many details about where Cwenthryth lived, for fear of raising his suspicions, and Rothgar had been as vague as a six-year-old could be.
Nevertheless, there could not be many market halls in the small town, and it was what she had used to explain the bruise at her temple.
She might not have thought of it so readily if she didn’t live in its proximity.
The house he was looking for could not be too far. But where?
An old man was sitting on a bench in the shade of the timber structure, watching people go past. He looked like the kind of man who made it his business to know about everything that was going on in town, and old enough to have met everyone at some point or another. Perfect. Steinar made his way to him.
“Good morning. I’m hoping you might be able to help me.
I’m looking for a woman called Cwenthryth.
She is friends with another woman called Eahlswith,” he said, making sure to give as much information as possible to identify her.
“She’s slender, with dark hair and black eyes, rather pale.
I was told she lived around here. Do you know her? ”
The man didn’t even blink. “Aye, of course, I’ve known her all my life.” Just as Steinar had suspected, then. “Sweet girl. She lives on the road over there, in the house opposite the cooper, the one with the smallish door.”
Yes, he could see the door from here. Excellent. “Does she live alone or with a man?”
Steinar clenched his jaw when the old man arched a brow at the admittedly odd question.
He should have perhaps tried to appear less keen but the words had just shot out of him.
Whether she lived with a dangerous man was all he wanted to know.
He didn’t need to be told she was a sweet girl. He could decide that on his own.
“I see. Maybe I don’t need to ask why you’re looking for Cwenthryth…
And why not? I might be tempted to woo her myself, were I forty years younger.
Alas, even if my mind is still as sharp as ever, my body is not what it once was.
” He chuckled, looking at the gnarled hands resting on the pommel of his walking stick.
“Well, you’re in luck, because no, she doesn’t live with a man, only with her brother.
The father died a few weeks ago, poor man. ”
Brother. Father.
This was not what he had wanted to hear.
Steinar nodded as the inescapable truth hit him.
Cwenthryth had said that the man who’d hurt her lived with her and might leave when he saw she was not coming back.
But there was no man. The only person living in the house at present with her was her brother, who would have no reason to leave, whether she disappeared or not.
As to the father, even if had mistreated her, as Astrid’s father once had mistreated her, he was now dead. She had nothing to fear from him.
There was only one conclusion to draw from this. She had lied.
Why was he even surprised? Hadn’t he guessed she had only told him what she needed to say to ensure his help?
“But I have to warn you, young man, you might not find it as easy as you think to seduce the girl, despite your advantageous physique,” the old man carried on, oblivious to his dismay.
“I’ve never seen her with a sweetheart, or even heard that she favored anyone with her advances.
As far as I can tell, she lives a life as chaste as any nun’s.
Pity. A girl like her should know a man’s touch. ”
Well, that was pretty clear. Not only did she not live with an abusive lover, but she had never even been in contact with a man.
What else had she lied about? Had she fabricated the story of his wife having a lover as well?
He doubted it, since he knew Astrid had gone to town on numerous occasions, and the boys had confirmed that she’d left them with Cwenthryth while she went into the same house each time.
No, everything pointed to her having indeed come to see a man.
Well, since he was here, with a man disposed to talking, and knowledgeable, he might as well ask a few more questions.
“And what about her neighbor? Do you know him? I was told he was skilled at carpentry and could advise me on my crumbling roof,” he improvised.
“Aldred?” The man chuckled again. “I’d be surprised if he were skilled at carpentry or indeed anything else.
Not only is he too lazy to learn a trade, but he’s also too busy bedding all the women he can find.
There are only so many hours in the day.
A man cannot be both hammering nails and hammering… well, you get my meaning.”
Steinar gritted his teeth while the man cackled to himself, proud of his jest. Astrid had intended to leave him and their children for a man who’d seduced half the women in town and didn’t seem ready to settle down.
How much more pathetic could this get? Had she known about this Aldred’s other conquests?
Or had she honestly thought that what they had was special?
As he asked himself the questions, he found that he didn’t really care. Something in his chest expanded.
He didn’t care.
It was a welcome revelation. Finally, after years of misery, his late wife had lost the power to hurt him. Finally, he might be able to resume his life in the way he wanted. Finally, he was free.
“If you really need help with your roof I can recommend my nephew. Now there’s a skilled carpenter. But he lives a few miles outside town, on the south road.”
It took Steinar a moment to understand what the old man was talking about and then he remembered that he’d pretended to need this Aldred’s help. “No, thank you, you’re very kind, but I’m sure I can find someone closer to my village to see to it. I wish you good day.”
“You as well.”
Unable to resist the temptation of seeing where Cwenthryth lived while he was here, even if he suspected he wouldn’t gain anything from it, he walked over to the house opposite the cooper.
The door was indeed rather small, Steinar suspected he would have to duck quite significantly to be able to enter it.
It looked almost abandoned. There was no sign of the brother Cwenthryth had inexplicably failed to mention when she’d claimed not to be able to return home.
Next to it, there was a bigger house. Aldred’s.
Just as he was wondering whether it was worth knocking on the door to see who Astrid had chosen to replace him, a woman did just that.
Checking left and right first to ensure herself no one was looking, she rapped what sounded like a signal.
The kind old man hadn’t lied. This was clearly a well-rehearsed ritual and she was likely not the first one to use it.
A moment later, the door swung open and Steinar was afforded a glimpse of his wife’s lover.
Of medium height, with limp brown hair and a small face, the Saxon was rather unremarkable.
Well, what had he expected? A giant of a man, with a flowing red mane of hair and blazing eyes?
Perhaps. At least someone you couldn’t fail to notice.
Aldred’s unprepossessing physique had come as a surprise.
Why on earth had Astrid thought him more attractive than him, the man she had married?
Their gazes met. Something shifted in the man’s clear eyes.
Alarm? Had he identified him as a Norseman, and therefore guessed who he might be?
Or was he wondering whether the stranger staring at him so intently was the husband of the woman who was even now entering the house and he feared a confrontation?
Steinar turned on his heel, not interested in frightening him. He’d seen what he had come here to see. Two things had been established.
His wife had been a fool—and Cwenthryth’s story could not be trusted.
Cwenthryth was closing the gate to the pig enclosure when she felt a presence behind her.
A huge, looming presence. Her heartbeat instantly picked up.
Was Steinar back? He had been gone four days now, more than she had expected.
Surely it would not be long before he came back to see his children.
But was she ready for the confrontation? She wasn’t certain.
Slowly, she turned around.
Standing behind her was not the giant she was expecting, but one with a baby tucked in the crook of his arm.
He was blond, strong and handsome, however, almost as much as Steinar.
Despite having never seen him before, she knew he would be Eyja’s husband, Halfdan—Moon.
Who else would be holding the newborn little girl she had helped birth the day before?
What was he doing here? Was he about to snap at her for allowing Eyja to walk all the way to the lake when she was so near her term, thereby forcing her to give birth out in the open?
Rorik had told her his cousin was rather formidable, and warned her he would not be happy to find out what had happened to his wife.
Well, he certainly looked formidable, even if he didn’t seem irate at the moment.
Or perhaps he wanted to ascertain who she was before he unleashed his fury. It would be the sensible thing to do.
“Cwenthryth?” he asked, stopping in front of her. Ah, there it was, the preliminary question. She nodded cautiously and returned the bucket to its place. “I’m Moon, Eyja’s husband.”
Yes, that much she had already guessed. “Good morning.”
“I came here to… Well, I came to thank you for what you did for my wife and daughter, but now I’m here, I’m afraid I don’t know how to do it. How do you thank someone for saving people you love?”