Chapter 15
“Look who we have here, Girard.”
At the sound of the hated man’s voice Aife could not help a shudder. Though they were in plain view of everyone and Wolf was not far, ready to defend her, she was instantly transported back to the meadow, when she had feared for her life and Torsten’s.
While she steeled herself for the conversation she had hoped to provoke, the other man—Girard, she assumed—answered, rather unnecessarily. “The Norsewoman.”
It wasn’t hard to look afraid when she stood up from the fence she’d been leaning on and turned to face the two men closing in on her.
It had been her plan to confront them and it was a good one, but it didn’t mean it would be easy.
The way they were glaring at her froze the blood in her veins.
She had expected them to be delighted to have another chance at getting their hands on her but they looked angry.
Why? Were they suspicious to have encountered her in town?
This was bad, she could not afford to give them time to think, at the risk of having them conclude that yes, it was too much of a coincidence that they should meet her moments after they had been released.
And so she did what she would have done had she not been actually waiting for them.
She ran.
Looking afraid would be the best way to convince them this was a genuine encounter and move them into chasing her.
Still, she made sure to choose her destination poorly, and allowed herself to be trapped in a narrow alley so as to give the Normans a false sense of security.
Panting in genuine fear, she watched them closing in on her, blocking her only escape route.
Having not really seen them that day in the meadow, since she’d pretended to be unconscious, she’d been unprepared for their size.
Hopefully, Wolf and the reeve men were following. If not, she was in deep trouble. They had seemed angry before; they now looked positively irate.
Enguerrand, who seemed to have taken the role of leader, spoke first. “You bitch! Did you really think you could escape us? You’re going to pay for what you did. Because of you my cousin is dead.”
“What c-cousin? What do you mean?” The stupider and more afraid she appeared, the more information she would coax out of them. Not that it was hard to appear either. She was petrified, and she had no idea who he was talking about.
“Hugues, the one who came back for you after we’d all left.”
Oh, she certainly remembered him, his crushing weight, his foul smell, his frightening words. “He did come back to the clearing,” she admitted, taking a step backward. She would have taken another but her back had just hit the wall. “But I didn’t kill him!”
“You didn’t plunge a blade into his heart, I’ll allow that, but his death is your fault nonetheless.”
So he was dead? “How can it be my fault?”
“Geoffroi didn’t like to see that Hugues had ruined his chance of finally convincing Ranulf we could be trusted and accepted into the clan.
When the two of them found him tied up amidst the rocks instead of you and the Norseman, he ran him through with his blade without even giving him the chance to explain himself. ”
Not in the least sorry to hear about the man’s demise, Aife fought her smile of satisfaction.
The men were giving names, establishing their guilt beyond doubt.
The more they talked, the more they corroborated Wolf’s version of the story.
This was good, just what they needed. But she still didn’t see how Hugues’s death could be attributed to her.
He’d been tied up and unconscious when they had abandoned him to his fate, but alive.
She should know, as she’d been the one stopping Torsten from killing him.
“Am I supposed to feel sorry your friend lost his head and killed your cousin?” she asked, feeling her courage returning at the idea that this confrontation would soon be over. “Well. I’m not. He intended to—”
“He lost his head, and all for a taste of your cunt,” Enguerrand roared, cutting through her protests.
“He was a good man, but lustier than most. You played on his weakness, you whore! If you hadn’t lured him in while he tied you up, he wouldn’t have come back to have a go at you. He would still be alive.”
“I didn’t ‘lure him in,’ as you say. I could not.
I was unconscious while he tied me up to my friend and you know it!
” Outrage had now replaced fear. How dare the man blame her for his cousin’s decision to come back and rape her!
How dare he call him a good man after all he’d done—and all he’d wanted to do!
How dare he call the man’s lack of honor a weakness and her a whore!
“It’s not my fault Geoffroi killed him. If Hugues wanted to live, he should have thought twice before raping an innocent woman. ”
“You mean he actually had you?” Enguerrand asked, his lips curling into a snarl.
Why did he want to know that? She ignored the question. “My friend and I were innocent, and you attacked us, with the intention of handing us over to—”
“We did not attack you. You fell from your horse if you recall, right in front of us.”
This blatant demonstration of bad faith had Aife’s blood boiling but she tried to control herself because it served her purpose.
She was not here to convince the two men they had acted like despicable pigs, but to prove to the reeve and his man that Wolf had not lied.
Let the Normans give as many details as possible.
“I did take a tumble when my horse was spooked by your sudden appearance. It couldn’t be helped.
That didn’t mean you had to take me hostage.
And what about my friend? He didn’t fall from his horse, did he, yet you attacked him three to one, like the cowards you are!
Well, not you,” she spat, nodding at the second man, Girard, who still hadn’t uttered a single useful word.
He didn’t appear to have the sharpest mind.
“You twisted your ankle when your own horse bolted, didn’t you? ”
Would he admit to it? He didn’t seem injured, which went against what Wolf would have told the reeve. She needed to get him talking, establish he was indeed the right man.
“’Twas nothing. I recovered quickly.” He lifted his left leg to show he had recovered from the injury. Yes. That would do. “Why are you here in town anyway?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” she countered, relieved.
Surely by now the two men’s ability to speak the English tongue and their complicity in the crime they had been accused of had been well established.
“I am free to go where I want. Or do you mean for us Norse people to remain in our village. Is that what your friend Ranulf wants to do? Park us like animals, use the men for sport and the women for his pleasure?”
“Well, you are barely civilized, so it’s hard to blame him. What else would you have us do?”
“Leave us alone?” she suggested, stealing a glance to the entrance of the alley in the hope of seeing Wolf appear.
All she saw was a stray dog lapping at some vile substance on the ground.
Where were the three men who were supposed to help her?
By now, the reeve would have heard enough to justify arresting the men a second time.
Why was he not intervening? Surely she had not lost him during the chase earlier? That would be a disaster.
“Enough of this,” Enguerrand said, closing the space between him and her.
“We just spent two days in a gaol doing our best to appear confused as to why we had been arrested. It paid off and the foolish reeve just freed us, so you will follow us. Before we hand you over to Ranulf, we’ll make sure you know your place. ”
“Oui, under us,” the second man leered.
“Shut up, Girard!”
“I’m not going with you!” Aife protested, starting to panic. Damnation, where was Wolf? She had not seen nor heard anything to indicate his presence during the conversation with the Normans.
“You are coming, unless you want to find yourself with a broken limb. I bet you want to give yourself at least a chance to fight us off, don’t you?”
With those words, Enguerrand reached out to grab her by the arm.
Before he could touch her, however, a blade had embedded itself in his hand.
He screamed and fell to his knees cradling his wrist. Aife flattened herself against the wall while chaos descended into the alley.
Wolf and the reeve’s man pounced, their faces contorted with rage, and soon the two Normans were brought under control.
“Are you now convinced these are the men who attacked my son and my friend’s daughter?” Wolf snarled. “I trust you heard enough to get Ranulf and Geoffroi the Norman punished for what they planned to do, what they no doubt did to others?”
“Indeed, I did hear plenty and so did John.” The reeve turned to her, concern etched over his face. She’d had chance to see before that he was an honorable man and she was glad to be proven right. “Are you all right? This wasn’t a pleasant confrontation.”
“I’m f-fine,” she stammered. This had been rather horrid, much more than she had expected. “Thank you. But I’d like to leave if I may. I don’t want to have to look at these two men a moment longer.”
“You won’t have to. I will escort you home immediately,” Wolf told her, before nodding to the Saxon who nodded in turn. “I’ll come back to see you tomorrow, when you’ve extracted all the information you need from those two bastards. We’ll talk then.”
Aife didn’t doubt the Icelander would make sure the men were suitably punished and the clan dismantled.
She cared not, she just wanted to go, put this all behind her.
An arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, Wolf led her out of the alley and back into the busy street.
Despite the acrid smell emanating from the various puddles, Aife took in a deep, steadying breath. Her plan had worked. It was over.
“So, you heard it all?” she asked, as they reached their horses.
“Yes. The alleyway was not so long. Placed where we were we heard it all.” He gritted his teeth as he tightened Grendel’s girth. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”
It had been hard indeed. She’d been accused of murder, of having lured a man in, she’d been called a whore, compared to an animal only worth being good for rutting, she’d been told someone was dead because they had wanted a taste of her—
Aife shook her head, determined to forget the vile men and what they had told her.
She would be avenged, that was all that mattered now.
To steady herself further, she gave Grendel a hug.
Against her cheek, the horse’s coat was soft as silk.
He nudged at her slightly, offering his reassurance.
She wasn’t surprised. Horses were notoriously sensitive animals, and though she had not known him as long as she had known Imp, he would have felt her unease.
“Please don’t tell Torsten I met with the men,” she told Wolf suddenly. “I’m not sure he would like to hear it.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” he grumbled, giving his own stallion a rub.
“I didn’t either, to tell you the truth.
But you were right, it was the quickest and easiest way to expose the Normans.
And it worked.” With those words, he planted himself in front of her.
“So can I now thank you for allowing me to avenge my son?”
Aife’s lips stretched into a smile. “You may.”