Chapter Two #3
Rand swallowed the obvious answer, pointing out that Sigmund was from the North and had been elected high king. ‘We are not asking to attend whatever feast is planned. We can wait elsewhere.’
‘You could always leave. Return in a few days’ time.’
He forced a smile enough to make his scar ache. ‘What, and miss the chance of seeing Sigmund’s grizzled face again? Particularly as you have helpfully confirmed that he has another name. Halfr the Bold, by any chance?’
She wrinkled her nose before examining the ground. ‘I have heard the name used before in connection with Lord Sigmund,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I should not have used it, but the news about the sons of Drengr shocked me.’
‘We will stay. We can camp out here or you can accommodate us somewhere suitable.’ He paused before going for the jugular. ‘Your choice, Ingebord.’
She took a step backwards and he knew he had penetrated her disguise. ‘I… I… I no longer use that name. I much prefer Svanna.’
He narrowed his gaze and saw the fear she tried to mask. Not quite the impervious Ice Maiden, but a woman with secrets that needed revealing. He instinctively fingered his scar. ‘Don’t lie to me. We encountered each other in Agthir. Nine years ago.’
Her eyes widened and her hands played with the neckline of her gown. ‘You remember me? I mean…did we?’
‘You are quite memorable,’ he purred, looking at her directly, willing her to believe the exaggeration. He had no memory of what had happened preceding the attack, or if they had ever conversed, but he’d never attacked a woman nor stolen a kiss from an unwilling one.
A frown puckered her forehead. ‘I will find you accommodation. Given the sheer number of warriors, it will be in one of the disused buildings.’
She obviously expected him to instantly turn up his nose.
‘Luckily, my men and I are remarkably unfussy and will not look upon any accommodation as an insult. Shelter is welcome.’
His men made non-committal noises. He knew they would obey him.
And there were many worse places to spend a night.
But Sigmund Sigmundson—or Halfr the Bold—would hear him out.
He would make him understand the danger their two adopted countries now faced.
Their common enemy must be stopped before it was too late.
‘And you will stay there until I come for you. Whatever you want from this place, you will not get it if you fail to keep to my instructions.’
Rand made his best courtly bow. He would find a way of getting what he wanted, and save his cousin’s life. And Ingebord—or Svanna, as she now called herself—was going to ensure it happened, even if she failed to realise that. He looked forward to the realisation dawning on her.
‘To hear is to obey, my fair lady.’
* * *
Of all the things Svanna didn’t need to happen today, the arrival of Rand Fullrson and his subsequent refusal to leave ranked up there.
He required more than a polite conversation with Lord Sigmund about the threat from this new band of warriors.
And, unfortunately, he’d guessed her previous identity and, what was worse, appeared to remember something of their brief encounter.
Svanna tried to concentrate on the practical problem at hand rather than allowing her mind to loop round and round.
She required a place where Rand and his band would be able to lodge but be out of the way until she could quietly let the Queen know about the problem and its potential to disrupt the proceedings.
Rand, with the jagged scar down the left side of his face, did not resemble the boy who had featured in her girlish dreams all those years ago.
She knew if she asked about their encounter, she risked confessing about the night, the stolen kiss on her cheek and then the sweet accidental meeting of their lips.
‘This is where you want us to stay?’ Rand’s gaze narrowed. ‘It looks to be a disused pigsty rather than a barn. Anyone would think that you don’t want us to remain here, my lady. My king will not look favourably on any who refuse hospitality.’
‘Everywhere else is full due to the celebrations,’ she said, forcing a smile that dripped with insincerity. ‘You are welcome to remain on your ship. Whichever you prefer. I’m sure your king will understand. We had no idea about your arrival.’
She waited and hoped he’d make his excuses.
He watched her with guarded eyes. ‘When shall we see Sigmundson?’
‘He has gone to the church. I suspect the Queen has gone with him. Arrangements will be made once I can speak with him.’
She’d noticed that the Queen had not come hurrying out of the hall as they’d made their way through the small village to the wide-eyed wonderment of some of the villagers.
It must mean that she’d gone to support Sigmund in the church. Svanna could understand her reasoning, but she’d hoped to offload the burden of accommodating Rand and his men to her.
Rand fingered his scar. ‘Does he normally go to church?’
‘He seeks to honour the petty kings.’
His lips turned up, making his scar move. ‘And not trying to avoid me.’
‘Imagination be a cruel mistress. Sigmundson believes in hospitality towards all who come in peace.’
The scar turned his frown into a fierce scowl. ‘Please don’t take me for a fool, my lady.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’ She held up the horn of mead. ‘You are obviously a warrior with a formidable reputation, but I trust and hope you come in peace as you are the high king’s emissary.’
She was quietly proud of her speech and thought it struck the right note, letting him know that his fearsome past as the king’s enforcer failed to intimidate her.
He gestured to his men to make themselves comfortable. ‘I don’t care how long we must wait, my lady, but I will speak with Sigmund before I depart from this place. I will deliver my message.’
‘Lord Sigmund makes his own decisions.’ Svanna examined him from under her lashes and wished she could ask Maer about what had truly gone on between them. If he considered Svanna to be Ingebord in truth, then they could not have been that close. Maer had held that secret close to her chest.
‘I wanted to ensure that we both understood the situation, Ingebord.’ His voice had lowered to a low purr which slid over her skin. ‘Too important for mistakes to happen.’
She ignored the hard clenching of her stomach and permitted a smile to play on her lips. ‘I believe we both understand the situation, Lord Randolfr, but I must warn you I only borrowed that name for a time.’
A sudden rustling caused her to turn. The assistant swineherd stood there with an open mouth. ‘Northmen everywhere.’
Svanna pinched the bridge of her nose. An excitable youth. Now her day was complete.
‘All well,’ she said slowly in Gaelic. ‘These Northmen are with me.’
The lad’s eyes widened as he took in Rand and his warriors. He stumbled back several steps. ‘Not them! Northmen surround the church. With flaming torches.’
Svanna’s stomach knotted. Halfr and the Queen had dismissed the warning about the additional ships as the product of an overactive imagination. What if they’d been wrong? Were they about to pay for it?
‘There shouldn’t be,’ she said, hating the note of uncertainty which crept into her voice.
‘Are they dressed in battle gear?’ Rand asked in perfect Gaelic. ‘Are their helms down and swords drawn?’
The boy nodded vigorously. ‘Shields, helms and weapons. Gleaming axes and torches.’
Bloodcurdling shrieks rent the air. Svanna stiffened, knowing the lad spoke the truth now and had spoken the truth earlier. The wisdom of hindsight. By dismissing the earlier intelligence, disaster had arrived.
Her lungs forgot how to work for several heartbeats.
‘This is crazy,’ Svanna said eventually, striving for a steady voice and trying to think logically, despite the urge to gasp for air.
Despite the all-consuming longing to curl into a small ball and hide like she’d done as a young girl when Agthir had fallen, letting someone else take the lead.
There was no one else. ‘Who would be so foolish to attack when many warriors are here?’
‘Where are they now?’ Rand asked. ‘These warriors of yours.’
‘The service is taking place, the street was quiet. Almost everyone is there or at the hall.’ Svanna stuffed her hand against her mouth and tried to swallow the scream welling up inside her.
‘The priest insisted they leave their weapons in storage so as not to sully the church. Lord Sigmund set several to guard the weapons, but that was purely for show.’
‘Who knew this gathering was going to happen?’
‘All the kings on Islay.’
‘And they are all here?’ Rand’s voice was hard and insistent, forcing her to think. ‘It is important, Ingebord.’
‘The name is Svanna.’ Svanna tried to concentrate despite the rising panic in her throat. ‘All except the king from Gruinard who is ill.’
Rand nodded and put his hand on his sword. ‘Your potential culprits. One or both spread rumours. Gruinard is probably how my king heard of the gathering.’
‘Did you know about the attack?’
‘Do you consider me foolish enough to sail into a planned attack? Or not to seek to warn you about it?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m many things, my lady, but risking my men in that fashion? Never.’
She stared at the harbour. Rand, irritatingly, had a point.
‘Now, what are we going to do about it?’ he murmured.
She blinked twice, thinking she’d misheard. ‘We?’
‘I’m not prepared to allow Sigmund to be slaughtered before I can speak with him, particularly as I suspect we share a common enemy.’ He bowed slightly. ‘My men and I are at your disposal, my lady.’
The tension in Svanna’s neck eased slightly. The gods were being kind, for once. She wasn’t entirely alone. She had a band of warriors and, working together, they might be able to tip the balance back in Halfr’s favour. She silently prayed that the Queen was all right.
‘Go to the church and see if we can free the warriors.’
He tilted his head to one side, his long lashes hiding his eyes. ‘We can try, but is there a secret way out? I know the church on my estate in Eire has hidden passages in case of difficulty. Funnily enough, men do not always fear God.’
‘A secret way?’ Svanna put a hand to her now-pounding head and tried to think.
It sounded like something Sigmund would do, or instruct the priest to do.
‘I’ve no idea. The Queen and I haven’t been here long.
We never go to the church. But I suspect she may be there to support Lord Sigmund, or I hope she is. ’
She hated how her voice trembled on the last word.
Rather than replying, Rand hunkered down to look the assistant swineherd in the eye. ‘Do you know if the priest can escape?’
The lad’s eyes widened at being addressed in Gaelic by a Northern warrior, but he gave a hesitant nod.
‘His altar boy is my best mate. He showed me the secret way in a month ago. We used it to play tricks on the priest only last week. The priest doesn’t know we know, but we were fooling around and discovered it. ’
Rand clapped him on the back. ‘What all lads do.’
The knots in her stomach eased. Sigmund and the others were not necessarily caught in a trap, provided the attackers had no idea of where the escape route led.
‘Am I going to get in trouble?’ the lad asked.
‘Not at all.’ Svanna forced a bright smile. ‘If you help Lord Randolfr, you might get a reward. I’ll make sure of it.’
The lad’s eyes shone. ‘My lady.’
Rand rapidly gave orders to his men. Several of them were to follow the lad to where he thought the priest might emerge, while the rest would help him secure what weapons he could.
Her jaw stopped hurting. He had thought as she did and had acted how she’d hoped. He had divided his force, but she hoped the men would be enough to ensure a successful escape.
‘You said the Queen might not be with Sigmund. Where else could she be?’
‘Do you think they are looking for her?’
He shrugged. ‘It would be embarrassing, and the new King of Agthir might be annoyed if the former Queen became a captive. If I were organising such a raid, I’d look for high status women.’
‘My foster-mother was going to the hall. I’ve no idea if she decided to join Lord Sigmund at the service or not,’ she said. ‘What should I do? My status is unimportant.’
‘I’ve no idea what you are worth to the invaders, my lady. But any woman captive fetches a price at market.’ He lifted a brow. ‘I presume you will want to hide.’
Said with a slight curl of his lip as if she was the sort to scurry away and leave everything to the warriors. After the fall of Agthir, she’d vowed never to be defenceless again and had begged Astrid for instruction in the arts of battle.
‘I can fight.’ She crossed her arms and dared him to say differently. ‘Long ago, the Queen ensured that I could play my part in resisting any invasion.’
His gaze raked her up and down and seemed to linger on her curves. ‘I welcome all those who can use a weapon, but you don’t appear dressed for war.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘Greeting guests in battle armour might have been off-putting.’
He laughed, a rusty sort of laugh as if he hadn’t had much recent practice in such things, but it was a rich laugh, pleasant to the ear. ‘Don’t blame me if you encounter trouble.’
‘I know where the weapons are stored, particularly the large quantity of arrows,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Please will you try and rescue my…the Queen first?’
He put a hand on her shoulder. The impersonal touch caused a warm pulse to go through her. ‘I would be delighted to have your help in securing more weapons.’
‘Delighted to have yours.’
He gave a crooked smile and held out his hand. ‘The beginning of a friendship?’
‘I prefer friends to enemies,’ she said, repeating one of the Queen’s favourite sayings.
She grasped his hand and shook it.
‘Funnily enough, I do too.’ He nodded to the remaining men and gestured to the rising plume of smoke. ‘Shall we move before the situation gets any worse?’
She rolled her eyes ‘What? If I had taken you straight to Lord Sigmund, then these warriors would not have attacked? I deal with realities, not fantasy.’
‘You are the one who said that. I merely suggest that Sigmund might have taken more care. Perhaps posted a few more guards. Who knows? I dwell in the realm of facts, not speculation.’
She wrapped her arms about her middle and willed her voice to sound normal and not become high-pitched. ‘As long as we save my foster-mother, then I will be content.’