The Fighting Man. Adrian Deans

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      ‘Why did you set them free?’ I asked.

      But Valla’s breathing had become slow and even.

      I just sat for a moment, listening to her breathing and imagining how it would be to have her in my bed forever. Then, I reached under the blanket and felt her feet.

      I’d expected to find them muddy but they were quite clean, and she murmured, ‘I’m sorry … sorry … ’ but whether to me or in a dream, I was never to know.

      And despite her warning to keep my clothes on, I shrugged them all onto the rushes and slipped into the bed, to lie in chaste nakedness against the sleeping body of the beautiful girl I had married more danico. The girl who had become to me the profound quintessence of womanhood.

      Chapter 8

      His Greatness and Subtlety

      I woke to the smell of turd, and found Valla shitting into a pot.

      She had her back to me, but turned and saw me watching her.

      ‘May I not have some privacy?’ she demanded and I closed my eyes, but in my mind I could still see her shapely back and the side-glimpse of her small breasts.

      ‘Why did you do it?’ I asked, ignoring the smell.

      ‘Do what?’

      ‘Release the serfs.’

      I snuck my eyes open a fraction and saw her reach for a handful of rags – then I rolled over.

      ‘The serfs have escaped?’ she asked.

      ‘All but one.’

      Valla affected nonchalance, but I could tell she was concerned.

      ‘Which of the serfs failed to escape?’ she asked.

      ‘Who knows?’ I lied. ‘They all look the same to me.’

      Then I said, ‘Do you have any idea how humiliated I would have been if you’d run away?’

      ‘I didn’t go anywhere,’ defended Valla. ‘I went to see the Lady Swanneshals.’

      ‘You went naked did you? Your dress was on the floor when I came back to the room.’

      Valla didn’t deign to answer. She pushed the pot under the bed and dragged her cloak of skins and rags over her shoulders.

      ‘You can’t wear that to Lundene,’ I said. ‘You’re the wife of a thegn, remember?’

      She continued to ignore me and I started to feel anger.

      ‘I won’t have you keeping secrets from me!’ I said, raising my voice as I might have with one of the servants of my father’s household.

      ‘Is that how you would talk to your wife?’ snapped Valla.

      ‘My wife, if she were a proper wife, wouldn’t sneak about in the night releasing prisoners.’

      ‘But I’m not a proper wife, Brand … you know that. I saved you from Olaf and now you are returning the favour.’

      It was all getting too confusing – like we were having three different conversations at once.

      ‘But you did release the serfs.’

      It wasn’t a question and Valla didn’t answer.

      ‘Harold and Tostig will be furious,’ I said. ‘There will be an investigation and if you are identified it will ruin my relationship with Harold … who has agreed to help me defeat Mal—’

      I was stunned into silence as Valla suddenly cast off her skins and rags and stood naked before me.

      I felt my jaw gaping like a fool and tried to marshal my wits into some sort of order. Valla’s body was staggering – lithe and strong – lightly browned from the sun, with breasts like small hard fruits and a downy shadow between her legs that seemed so refined in contrast with the thick bushes of the servants of my father’s hall.

      Suddenly embarrassed to be staring, I tore my eyes from her body and looked her in the face.

      ‘What was I saying?’

      ‘You were lecturing me, husband.’

      ‘… I was?’

      She turned her back and picked up the green dress, pulling it over her head – every movement an enticement and it was all I could do not to throw myself upon her.

      ‘I did not leave this room last night, did I husband?’

      ‘Erm … ’

      ‘If the Lord Brand swears his wife did not leave her chamber, then who shall dare suggest otherwise?’

      ‘Well … no-one I suppose.’

      ‘You suppose correctly,’ said Valla, straightening the dress, and if it were possible, looked even more desirable clad than unclad.

      ‘It’s time you started thinking like a lord, Brand. If you will something then it shall be so.’

      ‘Truly?’ I asked, beginning to grin.

      But her lip curled in a fine scorn, and she said, ‘Except, of course, where I am concerned.’

      ∞ ∞ ∞

      After a late and leisurely breakfast, the household was assembled in the yard. There were about a dozen warriors led by Harold, another four led by Tostig, and myself. Most of the warriors had a page or other servant to help with their baggage and weapons. There was also a wagon pulled by a horse with victuals for the journey and other gear, including a large canvas tent and the spare weapons I had collected from the Danes. There was also Carl Two-tongues, looking very fine in his new brown robes, and Valla – the only woman in the party. And already I was jealously aware of the sly looks the other warriors turned in her direction.

      There was also the red-haired snaggle-tooth, who was dragged out of the barn and thrown to the ground before Harold. He looked half dead after his ordeals, which had clearly included rough handling during the night. There was dried blood on his ear and around his nose. His lip was split and there was a new gap in his teeth. A black bruise coloured his right temple and he clutched his ribs as he breathed in shallow gasps, in obvious pain.

      ‘What is your name, serf?’ demanded Harold.

      ‘Elric,’ he lisped thickly through his broken mouth.

      ‘Elric,’ repeated Harold. ‘I will give you a choice Elric … death, or service of the Lord Brand.’

      If it was possible in his beaten state, Elric managed to look faintly amused.

      ‘The Lord of the Wood?’ he asked.

      He actually seemed to be considering which might be worse, but eventually bowed before me.

      ‘Kneel,’ СКАЧАТЬ