Chapter Twenty-Four
After the Norsemen had left, Gemma and Caelin had eaten, then been taken to their room.
The large bed and elaborate tapestries present in a room only used for guests showed her brother’s fortunes were, indeed, improving.
Her fists clenched with the knowledge that if the fishermen had been telling the truth, this was at the expense of Caelin’s tenants.
Caelin hurried into the room ahead of her, delighted at the sight of the cubs in their basket, sleeping close to the fire.
Gemma listened to the river rushing past outside, and the sound of the gulls overhead as they settled for the night.
She wished she had been able to watch the longship sailing downriver.
She wasn’t sure why. Had she wanted to see him go, or did she hope he would change his mind and come back for her?
But she knew he wouldn’t. He had been willing to swap her for a bag of gold.
As she had observed the guard count out the coins, she had almost felt each one as a physical blow.
She loved him and refused to let him risk his life for her, while he…
She sighed. What had she been hoping for?
That he would refuse the reward and insist on her leaving with them?
Whatever he had done was not for her or because of her.
It was to keep his own people safe, and he was more than willing to take the gold in place of anything she had to offer him.
“I need more milk for the cubs,” Caelin said to a serving woman as she entered the room with a jug of warm water. “And another blanket.”
“Yes, my lord. Right away,” the woman said, placing the water down next to the bowl and hurrying away to do his bidding.
As her footsteps grew fainter, Gemma sighed.
How strange to hear her son addressed by his title, and how different from when she had been trying to concoct a substitute from oats.
Here, whatever Caelin wished for would be provided for him.
At least for as long as Rhun permitted it.
And there was the catch. Everything here felt wrong.
She had barely trusted her brother before, but knowing he had pardoned Marcant. .. It wasn’t right.
“Caelin, while you are waiting, let’s get you ready for bed.” Reluctantly he came over to her and she helped him to wash and dress in his nightclothes as Gemma continued to debate whether she had made the right decision or not.
Rhun was playing a game. One in which there were no rules.
She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to treat her however he liked as long as it proved advantageous to him.
He had promised Caelin would return to his lands and be restored to his birthright.
Only her brother was able to do that. Caelin was the grandson of a king, the nephew of a king, and the son of a princess.
He should not spend his life sheltering from the snow in a shieling high on a moor, nor hiding in a Norse village, afraid someone would recognise him.
He should have wealth and lands and status, guards and servants.
None of which she could give him if she chose Arne.
If she had stayed with him, she would have needed to give up everything, not just for her, but for her son as well. And that was never going to be fair to Caelin.
There was a soft knock on the door, then the serving woman entered again and crossed the room to where Caelin waited for her. Caelin thanked the woman, then set to work feeding the cubs before playing with them as the woman helped Gemma to undress, wash and get ready for bed.
Afterwards, Gemma lay unable to sleep, grateful that every task no longer fell to her.
She was warm, well fed and safe. At least she hoped she was safe.
Without Arne, she wasn’t sure she would ever feel safe again, but she supposed she would have to learn.
Perhaps once they were back at home in Ir Ysgyn, she would feel more secure.
She lay listening to the soothing flow of the river, then suddenly heard a new sound.
Horses approaching, followed by shouts from the courtyard, then more inside the royal residence.
Caelin didn’t stir, still nestled in his warm bed with the cubs beside him.
She had nearly drifted off to sleep when someone knocked on her door and it swung open.
The serving woman entered and hurried over as Gemma sat up.
“You’re awake.” The woman sounded relieved.
“Yes. I heard shouts,” Gemma said. “Who has arrived?” Her heartbeat grew faster as she imagined for a moment that Arne had come back for her. Then she remembered the grim look on his face as he had accepted the bag of gold.
“Two men arrived from the north. Your brother wishes to see you urgently,” the serving woman said. “Please don’t keep him waiting.”
“Who?”
But the woman shook her head and set about gathering Gemma’s clothes. “Hurry, I will help you dress.”
As soon as she opened the door dressed in a clean gown, she saw her brother marching towards her.
“What is taking you so long?” he demanded as he unceremoniously grabbed her wrist and dragged her along the passageway.
The door slammed shut behind them and she fought an urge to pull away from Rhun and lock herself in the relative safety of her room with Caelin.
But that would only delay the inevitable.
“Rhun, what has happened?”
He stopped and let her go, then turned to face her, anger etched on his features. She nursed her wrist. Both his hands were by his sides now, his fists clenched, and for the first time, she was truly afraid of her brother. “What have you done, sister?”
“What do you mean?”
“I sent men to every corner of my kingdom. To search for you. Tonight, two men who heard I was searching for you have travelled here to tell me where you are. Or where you were, rather.”
“But you already know where I was. I told you.” Her whole body tensed and she felt cold all over.
If these men had seen Arne at the shieling, they would know at the very least that she had omitted to tell him about Arne being with her and Caelin.
Or even worse, they might have been the ones who left footprints at the edge of the woods.
They might have seen… She gripped her skirts and took a deep breath, but it did little to calm her pounding heart.
“These two men claim to have seen you the day before yesterday.”
Her breath caught; the last day she had been in the shieling with Arne. The day they had kissed and more outside. “But that is not possible. No… The snow—”
“No? Are you sure? Were you not out in a shepherd’s hut on the moors above Loch Long? That is where the Norsemen said you were, and you didn’t disagree. What you didn’t say was that there was a Norseman there with you.”
“Yes, I was at the shieling that day, but the snow was heavy. We couldn’t leave—”
“We?”
She swallowed. “Caelin and me.”
“So, there was no Norseman there? That Norseman. The one with the scarred face. The one who stood in front of me and took my gold when he already taken far more than that.”
Gemma took a step back, trying to stand as straight as possible although she was trembling so much she was barely able to speak.
“Who are these men?” She clenched her fists, angry that her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Men who saw him touch you and more,” Rhun snapped. “How could you allow this?”
“I… I…”
“Follow me, or I will assume you are guilty of this fornication. I will have your son removed from your care. You are not fit to be his mother.”
“No! Please, you can’t—”
“I can, and it will most certainly be in your son’s interest for me to do so. Come!”
She followed him as he hurried through the residence.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she dashed them away, forcing herself to calm down, to think clearly.
If she lost Caelin, she would lose everything.
The one thing she had never thought her brother would do was separate her from her son. How could she have been so na?ve?
When they reached the great hall, she stopped. Just inside the door stood two men, dressed in damp, mud-splattered riding clothes. One a Norseman, the other a Briton, or a Dal Riatan perhaps. Both looked at her, then nodded at Rhun.
“Yes, that is the woman we saw with Arne Olafsson. One of the Brothers of Thunder,” the Norseman said.
“The scarred one,” the other man agreed, his accent confirming him as a Dal Riatan.
“They were—”
Gemma struggled to breathe. She stared at the men, thinking back to the afternoon they were talking about, what she and Arne had been doing.
Her brother would never forgive her. She just had to hope he didn’t carry out his threat of taking Caelin away from her.
She had accepted she couldn’t have Arne, but she couldn’t live without her son.
“Out!” Rhun screamed at them. “All of you!” And the guards hurried with the men from the hall.
Gemma took a step towards the door, but Rhun grabbed her arm and yanked her back, causing her to stumble.
“Not you. Do you deny it?” Rhun yelled once the hall was empty.
Gemma straightened, pulling her arm from his grip. He let her go, staring at his hand as if somehow touching her had dirtied it. “No.”
“Then you are no sister of mine.”
“But Caelin is still your nephew, and heir to this throne after Eochaid.” Gemma tried to keep her voice soft, hoping Rhun would calm down. But when he lifted his head and pointed his finger directly in her face, she knew he was not going to. Not before he berated her.
“You have been consorting with the enemy.”
“Not the enemy—your ally,” she said patiently, taking a step closer to him. “Your ally, Rhun. Despite the fact they killed our father at your brother-in-law’s request.”