Chapter Three #3
‘We will talk after things settle. I will listen to what sort of friendship your king desires.’ Sigmund bestowed Svanna a look which seemed to ask for forgiveness. ‘When I am wrong, I do admit fault, Svanna. You were right to allow the warrior to stay. You averted disaster today.’
Ignoring Rand’s curious gaze at the bubble of laughter which emerged as the relief at being believed surged through her, Svanna swallowed hard and forced her voice to remain even. ‘I’m pleased you think that way.’
* * *
Svanna rested her head against her hand and stared at the embers of the hall as a distinct weariness settled over her bones.
She knew she should find some place to curl up and sleep but she couldn’t, not yet, not until she knew the Queen had survived the night.
She still had much to do, including finding another clean gown as the one she’d changed into had become covered in soot smudges and ash, but she couldn’t abandon her place, waiting and watching in case she was needed, in case Astrid called for her.
She’d lost track of time long before the last fire had burned down to embers and ash.
All she knew was that Astrid was safely being attended to now and resting.
The priest had said that her quick thinking had saved her foster-mother’s life.
She hung on to that and studiously avoided looking at the smouldering wreck which had been the hall, and which had nearly been her tomb had Rand not pulled her to safety.
She peered at the night-black sky, hoping for the faint streaks of dawn while listening out for the first cockerel crow, anything to tell her that she and Astrid had survived the night.
A cold chill went down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself.
She hated to think how many times she’d waited for the cockerel to crow, telling her that she’d survived another day.
She had thought all that had ended after Drengr and his sons were declared wolf heads and exiled, but now, with the return of Turgeis, she knew safety was an illusion.
Somehow, she had to figure out a way to ensure Astrid’s safety, and indeed that of all Agthir, from whatever the sons of Drengr had planned.
Because of Astrid’s injuries, and the time it would take to reach Agthir to consult with Maer, all the hard decisions had to be hers.
Maer would back her, but she needed to find a solution which worked.
‘Drink this.’ Rand settled his bulk next to her and held out a steaming goblet.
In the dim light from the embers’ glow, she saw his eyes crinkling reassuringly at the corners.
She hated that her breath came easier knowing he was here and had been willing to rush into a burning building on her say-so.
He appeared to believe in her when others like Sigmund discounted her worth.
She tilted her head to one side and deliberately wrinkled her nose. ‘What is it?’
‘A calming draught. The priest gave it to me when I asked.’ He waggled the drink, sending a cloud of steam skyward. ‘I thought you might need something to help your throat. Luckily, the priest knew precisely the remedy I sought.’
She touched her neck and was suddenly aware of how it and her face burned. She suspected that she might have even singed her hair. ‘My throat? Nothing wrong with it.’
Her voice sounded more like a frog croaking than her usual tones.
‘Are you so busy looking after the Queen that you forget to look after yourself?’ He tilted his head to one side and watched her under impossibly long lashes. ‘Do that often?’
‘I… It is more complicated than that,’ she mumbled, hating that he’d guessed. Now that she considered it, her throat did ache. ‘I will take whatever the priest gave you. His potions work, unlike the soothsayer’s back in Agthir.’
‘The Queen would want you to ensure your health,’ he said in a gentle tone.
Rather than argue with him, Svanna took the cup from him and carefully took a sip.
The bitter liquid mixed with some honey did taste good against her fire-parched throat.
She swallowed the remainder in one great gulp and then wiped her hand across her mouth.
The soothing balm filled her, warming her.
‘Do I look so unsettled?’ she asked. She hated that she wished she looked fresh and sparkling, instead of smoke-smelling and in need of a good wash.
His fingers caught a strand of her hair, wrapped it and then let it go. ‘You’ve been through much, but you remain outside, awake and alert.’
She hated that his voice made her want to lean into him and draw comfort from him. There must have been something in that potion. ‘Other people have been through more. I’m waiting my turn. My main duty is to ensure the Queen’s safety.’
He caught her chin between his forefinger and thumb. His eyes loomed large. And she knew her heart beat faster. She could almost taste his mouth. ‘I can take the watch now.’
She instinctively wet her lips. ‘Take the watch?’ Her voice sounded more smoke-infused than before.
His hand released her chin. ‘It is what you have been doing, waiting and watching in case you are needed. Go get cleaned up. I will fetch you if there is any news. You deserve that. You did enough today.’
Her eyes pricked from tiredness and relief.
He’d noticed that her demeanour of self-reliance was a facade.
She hadn’t expected that, particularly not from him.
Astrid and Maer seemed to think she was indestructible.
She tried to appear that way. It was how her mother had been until she fell ill.
But she always knew deep inside that she wanted someone to understand without her having to put it into words.
‘Why?’
‘If not for your quick thinking, catastrophe. You believed that lad. You took a chance on my men. And me. That took raw courage.’
‘What?’ She tried for a laugh but it came out strangled. A coughing fit racked her frame. ‘Asking for your help? Hardly brave.’
‘Accepting my help and going in to rescue your…mother the instant the door was unblocked. Such daughterly devotion.’
Svanna put the empty cup down. After what he’d done and the vow he’d supposedly made to kiss the Queen’s daughter, he deserved the full truth about what had happened all those years ago in Agthir.
‘My foster-mother rescued me once. I owe her a great debt.’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘But…you do not deny being called Ingebord, the Queen’s daughter, in Agthir?’
‘I understand you and Maer were close once,’ she said, trying another way.
His brows drew together. ‘A shipboard flirtation which fizzled out, in part because of Sigmund’s disapproval.’
‘Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you obviously were not that close. You didn’t know the most important thing about her. I suspect you fulfilled that vow of kissing Ingebord years ago without realising it. She prefers the name Maer now, but she was born Ingebord.’
His mouth open and shut several times as the realisation of Maer’s true identity washed over him. She felt almost sorry for him as he tried and failed to speak.
‘Maer is the Queen’s daughter?’ he finally spluttered out. ‘I heard the saga which tells of how the King stayed his hand because of Ingebord’s plea. I saw her—you—at a distance a long time ago. Maer, my Maer, had brown hair, not golden. The girl in the story had golden hair.’
‘You finally have it. The usurper had sworn to kill her. I was merely the companion, the chosen friend. The Queen had me impersonate Ingebord because she wanted her daughter to escape. Afterwards, telling the truth would have resulted in my death. I owe her my life many times over.’ A huge weight rolled off her shoulders to finally give voice to the truth.
‘Luckily, not many people had seen Maer. The skald thought the line about the golden hair was the perfect sentimental touch to the usurper’s saga. ’
He nodded. ‘The continued deception meant the Queen kept you both alive.’
‘Hard to guess who had the easier part. Maer travelled the wide world while I concentrated on never putting a foot wrong or making an accidental slip which could expose the entire scheme.’
He stared at her for a long time. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because it no longer matters, or it shouldn’t.
But after what you did today, I thought you deserved to know, particularly as we share a common enemy.
’ Everything swam in front of her and a bone-aching tiredness swept over her.
She knew she couldn’t get up, even though staying here next to him was a poor idea.
‘You can stop feeling any sense of misplaced guilt over the way you treated Maer, if that is what you are feeling. The fact that she never told her heart’s secret speaks volumes to me about the nature of your relationship. ’
‘Are you normally this blunt?’
She put a hand on her forehead. ‘I’m not usually this forthright, but you earned the right to know.’
‘I’ve found our conversation most intriguing.’
She struggled to stand but abruptly sat back down. ‘My legs feel like they are made of liquid. Whatever the priest gave you must have been strong stuff.’
‘Close your eyes.’ He put his cloak about her. ‘I’ll keep watch, Svanna the Steadfast, and will wake you should the situation alter.’
‘Kind…’ Her eyes fluttered shut as warmth seeped into her bones.
He believed her and it seemed to count for something, but she knew she could not confess the true reason for her terror of Turgeis and what he would do to her if he could.
Her nurse had implied that she bore much of the blame and if Rand thought so as well, she knew that the faint flickering of hope would die. Some demons she faced on her own.
* * *
Rand settled himself down to keep watch. The sleeping draught had worked well on the woman who had once been a princess. All the saints and angels knew she required it after what she had done for Astrid.
In the dim light he watched the smudges her long lashes made against her soot-grimed skin.
He shuddered to think what she must have been through, posing as the Queen’s true daughter and knowing that it could easily come undone.
It also made it far more unlikely that she’d had anything to do with setting Drengr on him all those years ago.
‘Maer hid things from me. My arrogance knew no bounds back then,’ he murmured. ‘Sigmund said she was far wiser than I realised. He was right.’
Svanna said nothing in return. He put another cloak over her. She sighed and settled against him.
In the faint grey light of the early dawn she seemed an odd combination of inner strength and fragile beauty. He’d been wrong before. She was not some Ice Maiden but a woman who guarded secrets well and controlled her emotions.
Looking at her generous mouth, sensations he’d long considered dead stirred within him.
Some instinct had made him turn back and witness her difficulty.
In that heartbeat he’d known that he wanted to live for himself instead of merely existing for his child, a feeling he’d not had since his wife had died.
He briefly wondered what his daughter Birdie would think of Svanna, but then dismissed it.
The pair were unlikely ever to meet as Birdie lived with her nurse in his ringfort, the most secure place in the kingdom to his mind, and he’d promised her mother that he’d keep her safe.
Giving in to impulse, he smoothed a tendril of hair from her forehead. ‘Who else knows, I wonder? I never heard a rumour, so I suspect it remains a closely guarded secret. But, knowing how Agthir works, I suspect there is some logic to it.’
She mumbled something indistinct.
‘Have Turgeis and his brothers guessed?’ he asked, fingering his suddenly throbbing scar. ‘Doubtful. Are they going to try and attack the soft underbelly of Agthir through you and your foster-mother? It gives me something to work with if they are.’
She murmured a few vague words about a garden which he did not understand.
He thought back to the mission the King had given him about ensuring the two kingdoms were united through kinship, a plan his cousin’s elopement with the intended bride had scuppered.
But now three kingdoms were involved. Perhaps there was a way through the problem after all—an alliance between the three—but how?
He was grateful that most of the kinder and better part of him had been buried with his wife, with that tiny particle remaining for Birdie.
It made it much easier to decide what he needed to do next.
Somehow, he had to find a way to use Svanna to ensure Sigmund entered into an alliance acceptable to his high king.
He would use any means necessary to ensure his daughter continued to be protected.
‘Next time I will succeed. It may be a long time coming but there will be retribution for what Drengr and his sons did before I die,’ he vowed, settling his arm about her thin shoulders and gently pulling her head more firmly against his chest.
She raised her hand in her sleep and snuggled closer, instinctively trusting him.
‘I made this vow back in Agthir and I mean to see it through. Many times, that vow has been the only thing keeping me alive.’