Sold to the Viking Warrior Page 10

  ‘Do you know what you are doing? Or are you like your half-brother—intent on shutting everyone out?’ Hring burst into the stables.

  ‘Has everything been secured? What about the men who followed Thorbin? Did they allow for their belongings to be searched? I expect trouble.’ Sigurd glared back at the man. What was it to him that he’d undertaken the search of the stables on his own? He’d left orders.

  Hring slapped his hand against his head. ‘Do you take me for an idiot? There was no trouble after I invoked your name. I swear no one knows anything, but Thorbin distrusted everyone. He was ever likely to order the murder of anyone who disagreed with him. To the point of paranoia. Two were hanged last week and their bones left out for the crows. Are you going the same way?’

  Sigurd took a steadying breath. Hring was right about one thing—he couldn’t become like Thorbin. He wouldn’t behave like that.

  ‘Where is his mistress? Did you discover her hiding place?’ he asked, righting the manger.

  ‘The last one disappeared over three months ago. He has not taken another woman.’ Hring let out a sigh and the lines of tiredness were clear on his face. ‘I questioned everyone closely and they tell the same tale. I mean, it is not like Thorbin to deny himself anything.’

  Sigurd tapped his fingers together. The timing of the woman’s disappearance would have coincided with the barrel arriving at Ketil’s headquarters. Thorbin was no fool. He must have known that his time was limited.

  ‘Find the woman, find the missing tribute.’

  Hring shook his head in confusion. ‘But where has she gone? Nobody knows.’

  ‘Disappeared, not sacrificed? Are you certain?’

  ‘Maybe he had other concerns. Maybe she knew that she would go the way of the others, saw her chance and took it.’ Hring shook his head. ‘It weren’t right, hanging those women.’

  ‘Dead bodies rarely whisper secrets.’ Sigurd stared at the stable. Thorbin had to have calculated that he would be taken from the island, so where had he hidden the gold? It had to be in an easy place to access and where Beyla would be certain to look if the worst should happen. ‘There is one place to search...’

  Hring backed away. ‘You might not fear that place, but others do.’

  ‘Very well, I shall dig.’

  ‘The priests might have something to say about that.’

  Sigurd put his face close to Hring’s. ‘Ask me if I care.’

  ‘I forgot you care nothing for our gods.’ Hring rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Just remember others might take offence. We need those men on our side and you quite frankly do not look fit to fight another battle.’

  ‘First I question the priests and then I dig.’

  ‘You won’t find anything.’

  Sigurd tilted his head to one side. ‘Where do you think he hid the gold?’

  Hring shrugged. ‘Perhaps Thorbin spoke true. Perhaps it is the natives not paying up. Certainly I found nothing. You were wrong to kill him before you had made him divulge the whereabouts. And you never questioned him about this alliance with Ivar the Boneless that they are all talking about.’

  ‘Thorbin sent our compatriot back in a barrel. What more evidence do you need? He could not hope to hold this island against Ketil on his own.’

  ‘But Ivar the Boneless!’

  ‘Perhaps he thought he could play both off against the other and build his own empire. My brother was like that—divide and conquer. I want the patrols doubled. We will be prepared if Ivar decides to make a move to avenge Thorbin’s death.’

  The man continued to stand there with a fierce expression on his face.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You never keep women long. You had Eilidith for one night.’ Hring blew out a long breath. ‘Once you are finished with her, sell her to me. No one else. I helped you achieve this. This is all I ask. The right of first refusal.’

  Sigurd regarded the grizzled warrior. A stab of unaccustomed jealousy passed through him. Why should Hring have anything to do with Liddy? He knew little of Hring’s private life. He had a wife and a daughter back in the North from what he could recall. ‘Is that so? What will your family say about it?’

  ‘My daughter, Ragnhild, runs the estate. She never questions my authority or at least not about slaves.’ Hring slammed his fists together. ‘Not if she knows what is good for her.’

  Sigurd nodded. But the jealousy was like an itch he couldn’t ignore. Why did people assume he was done with Liddy? He prepared himself to take a swing at the man. ‘Why would you want her? What can she offer you?’

  Hring stood there, stoically. ‘We owe her a debt. She saved this whole enterprise. She deserves better than a life of servitude. Gorm says you have called for Thorbin’s wife. Everyone knows you and her were lovers once. Would you have the woman who saved us serve a bitch like Beyla?’

  ‘Your tongue runs away with you, Hring.’

  Hring looked unrepentant. ‘Somebody has to tell the truth or otherwise you’ll end up like Thorbin.’

  ‘You would free her, you mean,’ Sigurd said, suddenly understanding. ‘You think I should never have taken her as a slave in the first place. That she should return to a father who sold her as a slave and a brother so weak that he allowed a woman to be a hostage in his place.’

  ‘Without her help, the bloodshed would have been much greater. You owe her a debt. A true warrior always pays his debts.’

  ‘Do you run the felag now, Hring?’ Sigurd asked, allowing his voice to drip with ice. ‘I have my reasons. I know what Eilidith did and she will be rewarded in good time. You may tell everyone that. I paid a heavy price for her. Her family will keep its farm. I’ve made good my promise, but I will not have anyone think me weak or soft.’

  Hring took three steps back. ‘You are overly touchy today.’

  ‘Do not question my authority again. I expect an honest report to Ketil as well.’

  Hring nodded, but his eyes took on a speculative gleam. ‘Do you intend to bed her? It is obvious that you haven’t yet or you wouldn’t be this touchy. It looks like you spent all night in here, searching rather than celebrating.’

  ‘None of your business. That is private between the lady and me.’

  Hring’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘It is good to see you are human, Lord Sigurd. Sometimes I’ve wondered. We’ve all wondered.’

  * * *

  Liddy looked over the Northman’s banqueting hall with a practised eye as the morning sun shone through the door. If she concentrated on the hall, maybe the butterflies in her stomach would cease and she’d forget how awful it had been the first morning after her marriage when Brandon’s mistress had led the jeering of her. She tucked her chin into her shoulder and moved into the centre of the room. The rushes on the floor had not been changed in a very long time. Then there were the badly moth-eaten tapestries. But there were no obvious hiding spots for the gold. Perhaps it was why Sigurd had readily agreed to her boast—he knew she had no hope of finding it.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ one of the servants asked her.

  ‘I’m your overlord’s new...new housekeeper,’ she said. Her voice refused to utter the word slave. ‘He has charged me with overseeing the clean-up of this place.’

  The women shook their heads. One looked her up and down before jangling her rather large breasts. ‘You? Aye, I know what the last housekeeper did and it weren’t much of cleaning.’

  ‘You don’t appear to have much to offer,’ another said, looking Liddy up and down. Liddy instinctively placed her hand over the birthmark and focused on the filthy rushes. If she needed any confirmation of her appeal to men, this was it—the judgement of strangers.

  ‘His eye will wander elsewhere,’ said another, preening.

  ‘She can have him,’ called a third. ‘We all know what
happens when a jaarl takes a woman to bed. Poor thing.’

  The entire room went silent as the women nudged each other.

  ‘What happens?’ Liddy asked, jerking her head upwards and forgetting to hide her chin.

  ‘She ends up dead!’ the first one cried. ‘A cursed position. It doesn’t matter about all the gold-shot shawls or gowns if your body hangs from a tree, rotting.’

  ‘Who was Thorbin’s mistress?’ Liddy asked, trying not to shudder. ‘Which one of you graced his bed?’

  The woman blanched. ‘Shona disappeared about three months ago. Just after the last Northman came, demanding payment. She was the one who had to feed him the poisoned cup and she spilt it all down his front.’

  ‘Shona disappeared?’

  ‘They said that she had run away. The jaarl launched a big search for her, but she was never found.’ The woman with the large breasts shook her head.

  ‘I still say she is alive, hidden somewhere, waiting for him to return,’ the first maid said.

  ‘He never brought back a body. And she’d have done anything for him after he gave her that shawl shot with gold. She kept saying how he’d marry her.’

  The women all began talking at once about the woman and their theories about her disappearance. Coll gave a sharp bark and the clamour died down. They all gave the dog a wary eye.

  ‘You can either help me or not, but gossiping will never clean a house.’ Liddy silently resolved to discover what had happened to this Shona. The woman might well know where the gold was and once Liddy had found that gold, she’d be free and could live out the rest of her life with honour. Maybe Sigurd was right—maybe her curse no longer had any power now that she didn’t belong to Cennell Fergusa.

  The women exchanged glances and there was a hushed discussion behind their hands. Liddy waited with crossed arms.

  ‘How come you are working here now?’ one asked. ‘I thought he fought for you and your family. Are you a hostage?’

  ‘My father sold me to pay this year’s tribute.’ She pulled up her sleeves to reveal the golden bracelets. ‘I wear Sigurd Sigmundson’s golden chains.’

  Instantly the atmosphere changed. One of the women shook her head. ‘I have never seen golden shackles before.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they are made of, they are still shackles,’ Liddy retorted.

  ‘It ain’t right, that. You helped free all the prisoners from Thorbin the Hangman,’ one muttered and the rest agreed.

  ‘Will you help? The hall needs to be cleaned before tonight’s feast. It stinks of sweat and stale beer. I doubt the men will be as forgiving as they were last night.’

  ‘They won’t notice much when there is a warm body wrapped about them.’

  ‘That is not an option for me.’ Liddy fingered her mark. ‘I know my limitations.

  The woman gave a pitying smile. ‘It wouldn’t be so noticeable if you didn’t hide your chin like that. And it ain’t so bad—it looks like a bird.’

  Liddy forced a smile. ‘I know the extent of my charms, but thank you for being kind.’

  The woman gave a half-shrug.

  ‘Are you going to set your great beastie on us?’

  Liddy gave the large-bosomed servant a hard glance. ‘I will make certain Lord Sigurd knows who helped and who did not.’

  She gathered the worst of the rushes up, while the women watched. After depositing them outside, she went back for a second load. Returning from her third trip, she stopped. Coll gave a soft woof. Several of the women had begun to help to sweep the rushes into piles.

  ‘It smells better already,’ one said with a smile. ‘And Shona used to flip her red shawl and point, rather than actually do anything.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ the large-bosomed servant grumbled. ‘I’ve no wish for a trip to the sacred grove. Women never return from there.’

  ‘Sigurd was appalled when he saw the bodies,’ Liddy said quietly.

  ‘That is the first truly good news we have heard in months,’ one of the maidservants said. ‘I’m Mhairi, by the way. And I will see you right. No false airs and graces with you.’

  Liddy rapidly listed all the jobs that needed to be done. To her relief, several women knew where the fresh rushes were kept and how to detach the tapestries from the walls.

  In an odd sort of way it felt good to be running her own household again, instead of existing at her parents’.

  If she kept busy, she’d have no time to think. If she kept busy, she would have no time to consider the implications of her wager. If she kept busy, she would fall asleep, exhausted, at the end of the day.

  She’d learnt that trick after the twins died. She’d despised housework before their death. She did it because she had to. The outside had always called to her, but she’d learnt the value in hard work and being far too tired to think. Thinking about Keita and Gilbreath was too much for her heart to take.

  After their death, she had wanted to cry great sobs or scream until the woods and the Paps of Jura across the water rang with her cries, but she didn’t want to give Brandon the satisfaction of calling her mad. One day she discovered if she kept her hands busy and her mind occupied with little tasks, she had given the appearance of functioning normally and little by little the need to scream had diminished.

  The things which had to go first were the bedding and the rushes covering the floor.

  Several of the maids, once they realised that she was not about to beat them, assisted her and within a few hours the banqueting hall smelt far cleaner.

  Beyond supervising from the doorway, Liddy had kept out of Sigurd’s chamber, much to the amusement of the other servants. She had spied a convenient corner near to the kitchen where she and Coll could sleep.

  * * *

  The tapestry was being returned to the wall when Sigurd came into the hall. Instantly Coll rushed over to him, rolling over and offering his tummy to be stroked. Sigurd’s hair sparkled with raindrops, making it look as if he’d been covered in diamonds. Liddy’s breath hitched.

  She frowned. ‘Is it too much to ask that my dog remain loyal?’

  Sigurd laughed and gave him a piece of dried meat. Coll took it and slunk off to a quiet corner. ‘I’m pleased someone is happy to see me.’

  ‘I hope this meets with your approval,’ she said and gestured about the room. She could do distant. ‘Or do Northmen prefer to live in a pigsty?’

  A small smile played on his mouth, highlighting a dimple she hadn’t noticed earlier. ‘Gratifying to know that I chose the right person for the job. The women seem to obey you.’

  ‘For now,’ she said with a careful shrug. ‘They are wary of Coll’s teeth.’

  ‘Coll is a sweetheart.’

  ‘He dislikes most men.’

  ‘Did he have an opinion on your late husband?’

  Liddy shook her head. ‘They mostly ignored each other after I refused to get rid of Coll, because he had barked at one of Brandon’s...’

  ‘Mistresses,’ Sigurd finished for her. ‘A dog of discerning taste.’

  Liddy tapped her foot on the ground. ‘Did you come here to speak about my dog?’

  He laughed. ‘I reckoned I’d find you here. You have accomplished more than I thought you would. We will be able to feast tonight without holding our noses.’

  Liddy paused in her demonstration of the changes she had made. The tiny compliment made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She dreaded to think how long it had been since she had received a word of praise and the way he looked at her, she could almost think herself pleasing to the eye.

  Deliberately she touched her birthmark. The man had bought her as a slave. Melting and making excuses would not free her or stop her heart from aching when he turned to another. Besides, Coll had allowed his stomach to overrule his judgement
. He was only a dog after all. She had to stop relying on him. ‘I had help. A task like this is easier when you have many hands.’

  ‘The women suddenly seem less sullen. Your doing, I presume?’

  ‘They wanted to know if you were like your brother and sacrificed women to the gods. I told them absolutely not.’

  He tilted his head to one side. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I saw your face at the grove. You are no murderer of women. It makes you different from Thorbin and his ilk.’

  ‘Your voice holds echoes of my mother. She used to say—it is the little things that show your true intentions.’

  Her gaze caught his and she tumbled in. She was the first to look away. Caring about this man would only lead to complications.

  ‘Her words of wisdom sound like my mother’s,’ she said with a hiccupping laugh. ‘It is the little things people notice.’

  ‘Perhaps...’ He cleared his throat and everyone turned towards him. ‘I have given orders. The bodies which were hanging will be properly buried. We have no need of that sort of magic when my sword arm will protect this island.’

  The women clapped their hands and their faces shone. Several straightened up and adjusted their gowns.

  ‘We will be sure to wear our best gowns and put flowers in our hair,’ the large-bosomed maid called.

  ‘I am sure my men will appreciate it.’

  Liddy ducked her head and her heart gave a little pang. There would obviously be a competition to catch the new jaarl’s eye.

  ‘I suspect it will be much easier to keep this hall clean,’ Liddy said in an undertone, pushing the jealous thought away. Sigurd would never be hers. She had to focus on the important things like finding the gold and becoming free, rather than wishing for something impossible.

  Sigurd return her smile. ‘I suspect you are right, but that is not why I did it.’

  ‘Thorbin’s last mistress...’ Liddy began to get the conversation away from dangerous things like her attraction to him.