Chapter 3 #2
It did not take Ulf long to see that Ylva had not lied when she’d said she was not comfortable on horseback. Even though Doe had an even gait, she seemed unable to accompany her trot with any kind of efficiency.
“Are you all right?” he asked, bringing his horse back down to a walk. No need to prolong her—or Doe’s—agony. She had asked not to gallop but he wasn’t sure she even knew how to canter. That little stretch of trotting seemed to have tested her to her limits.
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t think we will trot any more. It is more painful than I thought.”
Blaming the slow pace on his injury would hopefully help her relax and, after all, they didn’t have to rush.
It was only mid-afternoon, they would still get to town well before the gates closed.
The main reason he had gone with her was not to save time but to ensure her safety—and establish where this wretched Mildred was living.
Not wanting to add to her worries, he had not told Ylva what his plan was, but when they parted ways, he intended to follow her and find out where her enemy’s house was.
How had she not thought it odd that he’d not once asked where the woman was?
No man of sense would let a woman go to a dangerous tormentor without ensuring her safety in some way.
But it was obvious her mind was focused on only one thing.
Saving her friend. She saw it as her responsibility and the rest did not matter.
Well, he saw it as his to look after them both. And for that, he needed to know where Mildred was.
“We should arrive soon,” he told her once they rounded the lake. “Do you think you will be able to spin a convincing tale? It won’t be easy, I imagine.”
“No.” She paled and then nodded once, as if to convince herself. “But I will just have to.”
Indeed. There was no other choice. And if she appeared shocked and hesitant, then it would only add to the effect. He was certain she would not have found it easier to report to Mildred after a real murder.
His murder.
Ulf took in a deep inhale. He could have died this morning.
It was a sobering thought, for sure, even if it was hard to fully comprehend when he felt the same as usual, save for the stinging in his left side.
One moment he had been looking for mushrooms, the next he had been stabbed for a crime he was innocent—and even ignorant—of.
It went to show that nothing could be taken for granted in life.
They stopped at the edge of the forest, while still hidden from view.
It was important that Ylva be alone when she emerged from the trees.
He could not allow Mildred, or anyone else, to see them together, it would appear too suspicious, he looked too distinctively Norse.
Ylva slid to the ground on what appeared to be extremely shaky legs.
Ulf wrapped an arm around her waist before she could protest.
“Take a moment,” he said in her ear. “I trust you. You can do this.”
It was only when he felt her breath against the base of his throat that Ulf realized how close they were. And no wonder. He had almost leaned in to kiss her.
What was happening? This was not a seduction. This woman was not his and the moment was ill-chosen to say the least. And yet he could feel the unmistakable urge to place his lips on hers. Why was that? Since when did he feel the urge to kiss strangers, just to reassure them?
Ylva shuddered and he let her go. The gesture was perhaps too forceful, but better that than to appear as if he were consumed by desire when surely, he was not.
“Goodbye, Ulf. Thank you again for—”
He cut her off, frowning. Why was she saying goodbye? Hadn’t they agreed she would visit tomorrow, or the day after? “We’ll see each another again soon, remember, when you take refuge in the village?”
Did she intend to disappear once—if—she and Judith were freed? He bloody well hoped not. Ulf found he was taking her protection very personally. Whatever happened with Mildred, he would make sure this woman was safe from harm.
Which brought him to his plans for the rest of the day.
“Do not be surprised if once you head for the gate you see me ride into town as well. I will show no indication that I know you but since I’m here anyway, I may as well go see if the cooper has finished the cask I ordered last week.”
There was no such cask, but she was not to know that.
From the way Ylva nodded, Ulf could see that her mind was already on the task at hand.
“All right. Time to go.”
“Steinar, Wolf’s oldest son, is dead.”
Ylva swallowed while she waited for Mildred’s reaction.
This was the moment of truth. Would the ruse work?
Did she look upset enough to convince the other woman that she was telling the truth?
Perhaps. Even if, in reality, none of the Norsemen had been killed, Ylva was too unsettled by the events of the day to appear her normal self, she was far too worried about Judith to appear anything other than overwrought.
With luck, it would be enough to convince Mildred that she was not lying.
Apparently it was, because something like triumph flashed through the woman’s eyes.
“His eldest, you say? An excellent choice, as the loss of his favorite son is bound to pain him the most. He was probably hoping the man would follow in his footsteps.”
This was exactly what Ulf had predicted she would think. The woman really was despicable. Ylva bit back the stringent retort burning her lips. Now was not the time to antagonize her.
“Here,” she said instead. “His arm ring, taken from his corpse as proof. You must know about the Norsemen’s custom of wearing one?”
She was grateful to Ulf for the suggestion, because, judging from the way she snatched the beautiful bracelet from her, Mildred understood the importance of the object and knew Steinar would never have surrendered it willingly.
“Yes, yes. This is indeed a Norse ring, and certainly big enough to belong to him.” Ylva felt her chest squeeze in triumph but she schooled her face into indifference.
“But tell me, however did you manage to kill such a man? I saw him once, when he came to enquire about my father, and he was formidable, like most Norsemen.”
Indeed. Formidable.
“I stabbed him in the back while he was fishing by the river. I observed the Norsemen for a few days, to find the best way to put my plan to execution and select my victim. I discovered that they have a peculiar way of fishing for trout. They don’t use a rod, like normal people.
” For good measure, she gave a snort, as if she thought them as barbaric as Mildred did.
“They bend down by the edge of the water with one hand in the water and wait for the fish to come within grabbing distance. It can take quite a while. I quickly concluded that this made them an ideal, immobile target for me. And this morning I struck lucky, as it was Steinar’s turn to go to the river, alone. ”
This was what she and Ulf had agreed she should say while they’d ridden back to town earlier.
Obviously, she needed a plausible explanation as to how a slight woman like her would have succeeded in overpowering a man like Steinar and he had told her about this method of fishing the men in the village favored, the one his grandfather had been taught by his old friend, Sigurd.
Not for the first time, Ylva thought how lucky she had been to be sent to kill someone from the Icelander’s family, someone who had been kind enough to listen to her and generous enough to want to help. Without them she would never have fulfilled her mission.
Calm down. It’s a good start, but Judith has not been freed yet. You still need to be convincing.
She carried on with her fake story.
“It didn’t kill him straight away, obviously, but while he recovered from the surprise and pain of the blow, I stabbed him again, in the chest this time, and then in the…neck. Blood spurted everywhere. It was awful. Eventually, he stopped moving.”
Though they were nothing but lies, each word left a bitter taste in Ylva’s mouth. What would she feel if she’d had to announce for real that she had killed someone? How would she bear to have Ulf, Steinar, or anyone’s murder on her conscience?
If she succeeded in convincing Mildred, Ulf would have saved more than her friend that day, he would have saved her sanity.
“So he died, bleeding like the pig—forgive me—wolf pup that he is…” Mildred cackled. “Excellent.”
Ylva was glad Judith was not here to hear the terrible description of the murder. Of course, she would eventually tell her what had really happened, but for a few, terrible moments, her friend would have thought her a ruthless killer. There might not have been any recovering from that.
“Now, bring Judith here. You’ve had what you wanted. Steinar is dead.”
Mildred cocked her head. “Yes, he is. But he’s not the only person I wanted revenge from.”
Fear gripped Ylva’s insides. What was she saying? Was Judith already dead? Had she killed her in retaliation for daring to escape?
“You promised!” she cried out.
“Calm yourself, I promised I would not kill her, and I won’t.
You’ve earned her life with the murder of Wolf’s son.
” Mildred came close, so close that Ylva could smell the sour smell clinging to her.
“But I never said I would release her, or you, did I? Fool, did you really think I would allow my slaves to get away with what they did? Trying to escape when they belong to me?”
“We—”
“Silence!” Mildred slapped her hard, something she did when she was enraged. “You are going to regret what you did. Walstan! Get in here!”
The huge man stumbled into the room, looking even more witless than usual, quite an achievement. Had he been drinking? “What?”
“Take her to her friend, make sure to tie her up as well. We’ll decide what to do with them in the morning.”
The man didn’t move. Instead, he scratched his head and asked. “Is the Norseman dead then?”
Mildred nodded her answer. She hadn’t even looked at him once, her attention was wholly focused on the arm ring in her hand.
A smile bloomed on the man’s face. “Excellent. You did say I could fuck Judith once we were sure the Norseman was dead, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yes, I did.” The crude question had barely raised a reaction. “Well, go ahead if you’re still interested. Once you’ve chained Ylva to the wall, you can do what you want with Judith. I know how obsessed you’ve been with her so it might shut you up at last.”
Bile rose in Ylva’s throat. Had she heard that right? Was Mildred really saying Walstan was welcome to rape Judith?
“Wait,” she said, just as the man threw her over his shoulder. “You can’t—”
A sharp slap to the buttocks silenced her. “Hush. I’m not going to do anything to you. It’s Judith I want. I like my women looking like proper Saxons, not Norse scum.”
“No! You can’t—”
“Enough! Or I’m going to have to stun you. Is that what you want?”
Ylva didn’t stop struggling. How could he think she would just accept what he was about to do? Of course, she would fight, of course, she would do what she could to stop him and help her friend.
“Very well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Walstan put her down roughly, and slammed his fist on the side of her face.
Ylva fell to the floor in a heap. From somewhere in the corner of the room, Judith screamed. As darkness started to swallowed her, a terrible thought invaded Ylva’s mind. She had failed, after all.
Once a slave, always a slave.