Chapter Four
When Svanna struggled to consciousness Rand’s arm was about her shoulders, her head pressed against his chest and her right hand splayed perilously close to his groin. The steady thump of his heart thrummed in her ears. The intimacy startled her as it closely followed her confused dreams.
It worried her that she had sought out his warmth in that way.
She had never been one for such things, not after what happened in the garden that time with Turgeis.
Every time she encountered a flirtatious man she froze, remembering how Turgeis had remarked on what he intended to do to any rival.
She guessed that her nurse would call it ‘boastful young warrior talk’ and tell her to avoid him if she complained.
But she’d always known that there was more to it than mere boasting.
She immediately drew back her hand and sat up. His arm fell away. She concentrated on straightening her gown and hoping he didn’t think she had somehow taken liberties.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…’ She swallowed hard and tried again. ‘I only planned to rest my eyes for an instant. Now the sun has risen on another day. The servants are beginning to stir.’
She silently prayed to the Norns that no one had noticed her intimate entwining with Rand.
Maer had given her a lecture about how strict the priest was before she’d departed from Agthir.
She’d not had the heart to explain that after what she’d endured, she doubted anything like that would happen.
That attack had taken so much from her, including the ability to trust any man.
Although she loved children, she doubted that she’d have any because to do so would involve an intimacy which made her deeply uncomfortable.
She risked a glance upwards into his face.
In the cold light of an Islay dawn, his lips turned up. ‘Easier than having you fall backwards. And an honour, truly, after your heroics of yesterday.’
‘Heroics? Hardly that. My love for my foster-mother compelled me to go in.’
‘Your queen is lucky to have one such as you. I’ve served in the high king’s bodyguard. Very few would have gone into a burning building to search for him.’ He dipped his head. ‘Your devotion to duty is beyond compare.’
His words flowed over her like honey fresh from the comb.
Too often, Astrid and Sigmund seemed to take her devotion as a given, rarely offering her any praise or indeed thanking her for the risks she undertook.
Lately, she had started to wonder if Astrid saw her as a tool to be used, rather than as a person she cared for, and she hated feeling that way because, deep down, she wanted to believe Astrid did care for her.
She wet her parched lips and tried to dispel the images from her dream of a warrior enveloping her in his arms to kiss her thoroughly.
She needed to think clearly, not dwell on something which wouldn’t happen, and the last thing she wanted to bring up was the kiss he’d bestowed. ‘A compliment, I think.’
An unexpected twinkle showed in his eye. ‘Definitely.’
With nerveless thumbs, she undid the cloak and handed it to him. ‘I thank you for the loan of this. I hope it doesn’t stink too much of smoke.’
‘No news,’ he said, putting the cloak on his knees. ‘I’d have woken you if there was.’
‘Then my foster-mother lives another day. Good.’ She rubbed a hand against her temple. She started to rise and wished she hadn’t when the world gently spun. She blinked and it righted itself again. ‘I should change, or she will worry.’
‘I’ll wait until you return and take any message.’
She hurried off before she was tempted to stay, his soft laughter echoing behind her.
* * *
Rand watched her backside sway as she went. He shook his head, amazed at the bubble of laughter which had burst from his lips. An inner glow infused her this morning. He’d enjoyed holding a flesh and blood woman in his arms far more than he’d thought he would.
When she’d looked up at him with that sleep-soft mouth, he’d nearly lowered his lips to hers.
In full view of everyone. He should feel remorse, but instead felt gloriously alive, as if he’d been asleep for a very long time.
Svanna the substitute daughter would provide the key for him to keep both his cousin and Birdie safe.
But he was under no illusions of what would happen to his little girl if he lost the King’s favour in this manner.
‘Do you think you will be able to do what we came for?’ one of his men asked, sidling up to him. ‘Do you think you can deliver the kinship alliance our King requires? Can you bind Islay to Eire with the fair Rhiannon?’
‘Patience.’ The high king had been very specific about what he wanted—his illegitimate daughter Rhiannon married to Lord Sigmund to bind Islay.
Thorarinn’s elopement with the woman had scuppered that, and returning to Máel Sechnaill empty-handed was likely to result in Máel Sechnaill losing his temper and stripping everything from him.
He refused to do that to Birdie. ‘I am doing what is right.’
‘But that woman, is she the one who caused your scar? The golden-haired daughter of the Queen of Agthir.’
‘What do you know about that?’
‘Your cousin told me the tale one night when we were tossing the dice. He figured she must have been passing her favours about, and you were chosen to be the example.’ His helmsman rubbed his jaw.
‘Odd, that. She seemed like an Ice Maiden to me, not at all like a woman who readily opened her legs like Thorarinn claimed.’
Rand bit back an unaccustomed surge of anger. The man had no business discussing Svanna in that overly familiar fashion. The anger surprised him. He knew his late wife would have given a tired smile, like the one she’d given before she died and whispered, ‘I told you.’
She’d made him promise that one day he’d find another woman, a promise he’d reluctantly given and had little intention of keeping as one day had not happened yet.
However, that mythical woman was not Svanna, even if his body had been uncomfortably aware of hers when she’d slept curled up into his side.
‘Thorarinn ought to know to keep his mouth shut.’
The man laughed. ‘One trick he’ll never learn, particularly not when he is gambling.’
‘She was the excuse for, but not the cause of my beating. We’d never met before you and I arrived here.
I’ve little idea about the state of her virtue and neither have you,’ Rand said, fixing him with a hard stare.
Thorarinn had tried many times to give up the gambling.
He’d sworn he’d do so after Rand had received his wound, then again when they’d escaped from Constantinople, and Rand had begun to hope that it was true.
But he should have known better. Thorarinn struggled against the lure of the dice. ‘We share a common enemy in Turgeis.’
The man nodded, accepting Rand’s word. ‘When we first arrived, I was willing to swear that she must be related to an Ice Giant, such was her control,’ the man said, shaking his head.
‘But I was wrong. A magnificent passion exists in her. The way she tore away from me when she went into that hall after you. Such bravery.’ He sobered.
‘But you know what is at stake if you don’t give the King what he requires. ’
‘I will face our king when necessary and not before,’ Rand said, and prayed that his gamble about a verbal alliance and exchange of rings would be enough to temper the high king’s anger.
Not every strong alliance had to be one of kinship.
His king was aware of that, even if it was not his preferred method of ensuring loyalty.
‘Is there some reason why you are hanging around outside here?’ Sigmund said, coming out of the hospital area and glaring at him. ‘Our countries are now friends, and we will discuss what that means when the time is ripe and not before.’
‘I told Svanna that I’d keep watch until she returns. She worries about the Queen.’
The older man crossed his arms. ‘Svanna is under my protection.’
‘I will not dishonour her. I buried much with my wife.’ Even to his ears, his words sounded feeble.
Sigmund must have heard about the kiss he’d given Svanna.
Rand didn’t regret what had passed between them.
The temptation to beg another kiss had threatened to overwhelm him earlier.
‘The kiss we shared before I rescued Astrid had to do with a vow I made back in Agthir.’
‘You kissed her before you went into the hall?’ Sigmund made a rude noise. ‘It is a problem with you—you never consider implications. Maer’s heartbreak…’
‘Tell me, have you thought about the Queen’s honour?’ Rand asked, before Sigmund launched into another diatribe about Maer. ‘Everyone saw you gather her to you.’
‘If I didn’t owe you a life debt, I’d run you through. Whatever happens between Astrid and me is none of your business.’
‘After what happened yesterday, you must surely see that we share a common enemy—Turgeis and his brothers. Ask Svanna who she saw yesterday, who saluted with a smirk and why they concentrated on blocking the hall instead of the church.’
Sigmund stroked his chin for a long time. ‘Astrid says I get tetchy when I’m overtired.’
‘We will speak when you have rested.’
* * *
The wash and another change of clothes helped restore Svanna’s equilibrium. She felt better dressed in her favourite blue gown with the box brooches which had belonged to her mother fastened on the front.
‘Here I find you,’ Rand said, advancing towards her at speed. The sunlight turned his hair to a golden infused cloud. ‘I have been searching high and low for you.’
She was pleased that her hair was tightly under her couvre-chef, her face clean and the apron correctly pinned to her gown. ‘Is something amiss, Lord Randolfr? Has my foster-mother called for me?’
‘Rand, please. We are now friends, Svanna, after what we have been through.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Or are you going to deny it?’