Chapter Twelve Mark My Threats
Chapter Twelve
Mark My Threats
“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep, “my flame-haired temptress.”
Hea smiled back. “And good morning to you too—my honey-tongued lord.”
Bridei laughed softly before stretching. Hea’s gaze slid along the length of his body, admiring his long, muscular limbs and the thatch of dark hair at his groin. She would never tire of gazing upon him.
Bridei sat up, pushing his hair off his face. “It’s late,” he murmured before giving a jaw-cracking yawn. “I should go.”
“Do you want to break your fast first?” Hea asked. “I have some bread dough rising—I can cook you some on the griddle.”
“No need to go to any trouble.” Bridei leaned forward and kissed her before he climbed off the furs. “I should join my men. Today is important—it’s the day all will be decided.”
Hea watched him reach for his clothes, admiring his tight backside as he did so. “It’s no trouble,” she murmured. “I was going to make bread for myself anyway.”
Bridei glanced over his shoulder and favored her with a disarming smile. “I have to get back.”
She watched him dress, her gaze tracking every moment. She did not want him to leave, for this magical encounter to end. Yet like a dream that fades with the dawning of the sun, she could feel him slipping out of her reach.
“What will be decided today?” she asked, forcing herself to focus on the present. “I still have no idea why you’re here in Bebbanburg.”
Bridei buckled his belt and glanced up at her. “I traveled south to claim my independence,” he replied, “but it appears your king is intent on denying me.”
“You want independence?”
Bridei nodded before reaching for his vest and shrugging it on. “The lands to the north have no ties to the Angles or the Saxons. It is the land of the Picts—Ecgfrith must give it back.”
Uneasiness churned in Hea’s belly, shattering her sense of well-being. “Have you spoken privately with Ecgfrith?”
Bridei nodded. “Last eve, before coming here. He refuses.”
A chill feathered over Hea’s naked skin, and she wrapped a fur around her. “What will you do?”
“Speak with him once more today.”
“And if he insists, you will remain his sub-king?”
Bridei met her gaze once more, his brown eyes glinting. “I will never accept it.”
Hea swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
What have I done? Her breathing quickened and she started to feel queasy. I’ve just lain with my people’s enemy.
“I received warning from the spirit world yesterday, Bridei,” she said after a few long moments. “The shadow of war looms over this land.”
Surprise flickered across his features before he frowned. “Between whom?”
“It wasn’t made clear to me—however, with the demands you’re making it now falls into place.”
His frown deepened. “My demands? Do you disapprove, Hea?”
Her own gaze narrowed. “I’m an Angle—of course I do.” She watched him lace up his vest, the movements deft. “This is my land; I don’t want to see it threatened.”
“And Fortriu is my land—I want to see it freed.”
“No, it is part of the kingdom, Bridei. Your father swore fealty to Ecgfrith, whether you wish it or not.”
Bridei had finished dressing. He now stood still, watching her—too still. Hea realized she had succeeded in angering him.
“My people will not suffer a southern ruler,” he said coldly, “and neither will I. Ecgfrith has one last chance to change his mind—or there will be war between us.”
Hea stared at him, her heart pounding, her belly clenched. A few moments earlier she had felt the happiest woman alive, and now she felt miserable. With just a few words, the pair of them were now on opposite sides.
“And where does that leave us?” she asked. Her throat constricted, but she fought down the urge to weep. She would not show Bridei mac Beli her tears.
That made him pause, uncertainty flickering across his handsome features. “What do you mean?”
“Last night … is that it?”
His mouth compressed. “I didn’t plan for it to happen, Hea.”
She pulled the fur tighter around her as if it were a shield. “Really? Why else did you come here? To offer your condolences for my mother?”
The sharpness in her voice made his brow furrow. “I don’t know why I came here,” he replied, his tone wary. “I just needed to see you. Some things you don’t plan—but that doesn’t mean either of us should regret last night. I certainly don’t.”
Hea’s lip curled. Of course he did not. It was so much easier for men—they did not have to bear the consequences of such things.
Seeing her reaction, Bridei took a step toward her and flashed a charming smile. “You could always come north with me and live in Dundurn.”
Hea stiffened. She had never met anyone who spoke so thoughtlessly as Bridei. “You can’t just say that,” she managed finally. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t I?”
“Bebbanburg is my home. I serve Ecgfrith—and believe it or not, I am loyal to him.”
A shadow crossed Bridei’s face. “So loyal you’d spread your legs for his northern enemy—a Pict.”
A chill silence followed his words.
Hea drew herself up, a red haze obscuring her vision. “Get out.”
Their gazes fused and held for a few long moments—and unlike the night before, Bridei did not try to make amends.
The air was raw between them, full of things unsaid, yet to say any more would just worsen the situation.
Perhaps Bridei knew that, for he nodded curtly, turned, and strode toward the door.
Hea watched him leave, the door shutting behind him with a hollow thud.
She did not move for a long while afterward.
King Ecgfrith of Northumbria took a sip from his cup and watched his northern guest. Bridei did not look in good humor today. He sat, a few feet away at the table upon the high seat, and had hardly touched the trencher of food before him.
“Is the venison not to your liking, Lord Bridei?” Ecgfrith asked.
Bridei glanced up. “The meat is good,” he replied curtly. “I’ve no appetite, that’s all.”
They had gathered for the noon meal—the last meal they would share together before the Pict leader and his band departed for the north.
Ecgfrith had seen Bridei’s men, including that red-haired traitor, Heolstor, getting their horses ready earlier that morning.
No matter the outcome of their discussions, Bridei did not intend to stay on another night at Bebbanburg.
Ecgfrith took another sip of mead, hiding a smile.
Bridei’s black mood pleased him. However, as he looked around the table, he became aware that Bridei was not the only one who looked strained.
Hea, whom he had summoned here for the noon meal as well, was staring down at her trencher, her expression pained.
“Ecgfrith.”
His wife’s soft voice reached him, drawing the king away from the study of his seer. He turned his attention to Irmenburgh, frowning. “What?”
For once she actually met his gaze, although her blue eyes were timid.
He thought of the first time he had seen her, years ago now.
He had been smarting over the disaster of his first marriage.
His first wife had been a dark, fiery beauty, but her passion had been reserved for God, and she had refused to lie with him.
He had hoped his second wife, Irmenburgh, would be cut of a different cloth.
He had heard she was pious, but then a lot of Angle and Saxon princesses were raised that way; as his own sisters had been.
His heart had sunk the first time he set eyes on her.
His new wife was a thin, mousy woman, who had all the sensuality of a turnip.
She had been better behaved than his first one, for she had not refused him.
Although bedding her had been like rutting a corpse.
She gave nothing in return, and after a few passionless couplings, he had started taking this pleasure elsewhere, as he had done before her arrival.
These days, he and Irmenburgh conversed little, and she rarely offered an opinion on anything. As such her manner today surprised him.
“My Lord, Think well on how you treat Bridei,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was once like a son to us.”
Ecgfrith sneered. “For you perhaps. Since you’re barren, a Pict fosterling was the best you could hope for.”
His wife flinched. “Bridei meant something to you as well—that was why he could anger you so. He has grown into a powerful man. Be wary of making an enemy of him.”
Ecgfrith went still. “I don't need a woman's advice,” he growled.
She stared back at him, her face paling, yet she did not back down. “Really? You constantly ask for Hea’s counsel.”
Ecgfrith stared at Irmenburgh. If they had been alone, he would have struck her for being so bold. “She has skills you do not.”
“But I am your wife.”
“You know little of the world beyond these walls, and nothing of what it means to rule.”
Irmenburgh held his gaze, and he was surprised to see anger flare in the depths of her eyes. “I’m a daughter of kings—I know just as much as you.”
Ecgfrith’s temper flared. He slammed his fist down on the table before him. “Hold your tongue, woman!”
Silence descended upon the table, and all eyes swiveled to where the king and queen sat together. Ecgfrith found Bridei mac Beli watching him.
“I grow impatient, Lord Ecgfrith,” the Pict said, his voice carrying across the table. “Come … tell me your answer.”
Beside Bridei, the red-headed warrior, Heolstor, cast his leader a look of censure—but Bridei ignored him. His gaze did not waver from Ecgfrith.
“Why the urgency?” Ecgfrith asked, taking another sip from his cup and trying to settle the fury that still seethed in his belly. He would deal with Irmenburgh’s insolence later.
“I wish to return north.”
Ecgfrith forced a smile. Clearly, Bridei knew he was beaten and wished to slink home like the cur he was. This visit and his arrogant demands had all been a bluff—one that did not intimidate Ecgfrith in the slightest.
He put down his cup and steepled his hands before him, his smile turning apologetic. “Have you forgotten so quickly?”
Bridei shook his head. “I forget nothing of what passed between us, but the matter didn’t end there. I give you one last chance, Ecgfrith, to recognize my birthright and acknowledge me as a sovereign in my own right: King of the North.”
Ecgfrith threw back his head and laughed. “Once again, you speak of this ‘birthright’. What’s that exactly? A man should earn what he has. The blood that runs through your veins doesn’t give you the right to claim a land for your own. That land is mine, and always will be.”
A heavy silence fell upon the heah-setl. Farther down the table, Ecgfrith saw Rinan grin, clearly delighted by his king’s firm stand. Opposite the blond warrior, the seer’s face was strained. Hea’s gaze flicked between the two leaders. Her expression was almost pleading.
Ecgfrith turned back to Bridei. “That is my final word. You can leave Bebbanburg as soon as you are ready.”
Bridei said nothing. Instead, he pushed himself back from the table and stood up. Next to him, Heolstor did the same, his expression grim.
Bridei’s dark gaze speared Ecgfrith. “Thank you for making your position clear.” His voice was calm, although his tone was flat, belying the rage that simmered just beneath the surface.
“However, your decision will have consequences. I won’t let this matter lie.
Ready your fyrd, Ecgfrith—and prepare for war. ”
Ecgfrith waved him away. “Enough … I tire of your threats. Be gone from my hall, before I have my warriors drag you out.”
Bridei went still, his expression turning hard. “Mark my threats, for I don’t make them idly. The next time you and I meet, it will be on the battlefield.”