Chapter Fifteen
Aoife could have simply followed the smell of burnt grass and found the farm, but Ragna had insisted on accompanying her.
Along the way she spoke to everyone she passed, doing her best to include Aoife in those conversations, despite how difficult it was as she was confined mainly to smiles and hand gestures.
Although many of the people had some words of her language, she quickly realised they were limited to numbers and the names of the goods most commonly traded. Hardly topics of everyday conversation.
“Will you help me learn your language?” Aoife asked Ragna as they left yet another group of curious villagers.
Aoife wished she was able to talk to them, ask them about their homes, their families, their lives.
Show she cared about them and their needs, and would try to ensure her husband’s decisions took into consideration the needs of the women and children living in the settlement as well as the men.
She had seen the workings of her father’s fort first hand and the problems that had often arisen between the needs and wants of the men, particularly the warriors and the other residents of the fort.
“Of course,” Ragna replied. “It is good you have a few words already of Northumbrian. And it is important the villagers get to know you and trust you for yourself.”
Aoife shook her head. “It is hard to believe they fear me,” she admitted. “I am only one Briton, a woman, alone in the midst of so many Norse.”
“Ah, but you are married to their jarl. They wonder about the power you may have over him, the ways in which you might betray him, or poison his thoughts against his own people,” Ragna said.
“But…” Aoife had never considered such a thing.
Ragna smiled. “Don’t worry, it will all work out. I have been telling them how good the two of you are together. And once children start to arrive, they will soon forget you are not one of their people, for your children will be Norse in their eyes.”
Aoife bit her lower lip. It had only been a few days, but if Tormod continued the way he was, it was unlikely children would be coming along any time soon.
He seemed to enjoy her body, but there would be no child if he continued to withdraw from her.
Would that count against her in the eyes of the villagers?
Maybe Tormod just needed some time. After all, surely every man—especially a jarl—needed sons eventually.
They rounded a final curve and the stench of burning grew greater.
“Looks like they have finished,” said Ragna.
Aoife followed her gaze and her mouth went dry. There was Tormod. His kirtle was off and his chest glistened in the summer sunshine. She blushed when she heard Ragna chuckling beside her.
“You are not too displeased with your husband, then,” Ragna said. Aoife wasn’t sure what to say. “My nephew is a handsome man. And caring in his own way.” Ragna slapped her on the back and they watched as Tormod approached.
Tormod kept his gaze on her as he drew nearer, but didn’t smile or react in any way.
Once he had reached them, they stood staring at one another.
Aoife racked her brain for something to say, but could think of nothing.
Her heart thumped in her chest and she worried that Ragna would tell Tormod of her reaction to him.
“You have nearly finished,” was all Ragna said. Aoife breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes,” Tormod said. “And Elisedd has been a great help. He wishes to speak with you, my lady.”
Aoife frowned at Tormod addressing her so formally, then nodded in agreement.
“I will return to the village,” said Ragna. “Now that you are in the capable hands of your husband.” The older woman headed back the way they had come, chuckling.
Aoife caught sight of Elisedd sitting at the water’s edge and headed towards him. She had taken only a few steps when Tormod caught up to her and took her arm.
“I wish to come with you,” he said.
Aoife glanced over at Elisedd. It certainly did not look like he had been punished in any way and Tormod was pleased with his work. “Why?”
“I wish to hear what he has to say.”
“He may talk more freely if it is just me.” She wasn’t sure why she was pushing the matter. If Tormod wanted to hear what the two of them had to say then he would simply do it, although… she just wanted to feel he trusted her. If she felt that trust, then she would be happy to let him listen.
“And he may say something that means more to me than to you,” Tormod said. “I have much more understanding of the way attacks are planned than you do. Or at least I presume I do.”
Aoife wondered how much of that was true. Did he simply not trust her, or did he just not want to run the risk of her missing anything? She decided to hope for the best, even though inside she wanted it to be different. “Very well.”
Together, they walked down to the beach. Elisedd turned at the sound of their feet on the shingle. His face broke into a bright smile at the sight of Aoife and only dimmed a little when he realised Tormod was there, too.
“Elisedd,” Aoife said as the boy ran over to her and hugged her. “How you have grown. I nearly did not recognise you yesterday. Why did you come? What has happened at Car Cadell?”
“I thought I would never see you again,” he said, holding her tightly.
His voice broke with emotion and he hugged her tighter, then pulled back, putting on a brave face.
“It has been so long. When I heard the men talking about you, I told my mother. She said I had to come with them and try to find you. Everything has changed since the siege at Alt Clut.”
Elisedd refused to meet her gaze after he finished speaking.
“Do you know who did this? Or why?”
Elisedd looked at the ground and said nothing.
Behind her, Tormod scoffed and her stomach felt like it was full of the rocks that lay all along the beach.
“You heard them speak. You came across the sea-loch in a boat with these men. You must know who they are,” Tormod said.
“I heard the men speak, but I was hiding and couldn’t see their faces. They didn’t know I was there.” Elisedd looked at Aoife for support. “My mother told me to come here and warn you, to make sure that you did not get the blame again for something that was not your fault.”
Aoife saw Tormod frown at those words and hurriedly questioned Elisedd about the details before Tormod could ask the boy what he meant.
“I hid under some sails on the deck.”
“That was quite a risk to take,” Tormod said, clearly not believing him.
“They would not use the sails that night. It was too calm. It was one of the reasons they had chosen it, as the wind would not spread the smoke and give you warning of the fire.”
“Who was behind it?” Tormod asked, gently this time.
Elisedd looked up at Aoife and bit his lip. “I don’t know who planned it, but the man in charge of the boat was Rhydderch’s son.”
“Your father’s steward?” Tormod asked.
“Yes,” Aoife said. It didn’t surprise her. Rhydderch had always sided with her stepmother—even over her father. She had often worried about how loyal he was to her father. However, nothing she said had shaken Cadell’s trust in Rhydderch. Aoife had never understood it.
“Rhydderch and Father Bricius do not want the Norsemen here. And there are other men who have visited the fort saying this. They want them to return to their lands in the north,” Elisedd said, although it was clear something more was troubling him.
“They hoped that either the burnt crops would force them to leave or that you would be blamed for the fire and sent back to them. So you see, I had to come. I promised my mother I would find you and look after you. It isn’t fair that they blame you.
It isn’t fair at all. Just like at Alt Clut. ”
“Thank you for telling us this.” Aoife wound her arms around the distraught boy and hugged him.
He pushed away from her, obviously embarrassed by his outburst of emotion, and ran a short distance down the beach.
She suspected Rhiannon feared for her son’s life now that his father was dead and had thought he stood a better chance with Aoife than by staying at Car Cadell.
How bad must the situation be for her to have sent her son to the unknown with no guarantee of safety?
Tormod grasped her arm and turned her to face him. “What is it they blame you for? Is Alt Clut the reason they sent you away?”
She wondered how much of the story should she tell him? What should she keep from him - for her own safety?
“Yes.” She moved to stare across the loch towards her father’s remaining lands. “My stepmother blames me for the attack on Alt Clut.”
After a moment’s silence, Tormod laughed. “She blames you?”
She nodded, frowning. For her, it was no laughing matter.
“I… I became unwell at the feast and we had to leave. It was only a few hours before the attack. No one else escaped that night. Because I was ill, the others—both the survivors and the relatives of those who were captured or killed—they blamed me. They said I was cursed.”
“Cursed?” Tormod said. “That sounds to me more like good fortune. Extremely good fortune. If you hadn’t left then, you would have died during the siege or… My countrymen are not known for their delicate handling of prisoners.”
“I’m sure King Artgal would agree,” she said wryly. “If they had heeded my warning, then many more, including King Artgal, might still be alive. Instead, they blame me for the deaths. They think that my illness caused the events to occur.”