Saved by the Viking Warrior. Michelle Styles

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СКАЧАТЬ nowhere,’ she began and stopped, unable to continue. A great sob rose up in her throat, and in her mind she saw the images of the bodies where they fell and heard the unholy screams. She forced the sob back down. No Norseman would have the pleasure of seeing her cry. She straightened her spine and looked him directly in the eye. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t speak of it. Not yet. Please don’t make me.’

      ‘You’re my responsibility, and I want you alive.’ He captured her chin with hard fingers, and his deadened eyes peered into her soul. ‘As long as you do as I say.’

      ‘My world has changed completely.’ Cwenneth forced her eyes to stare back into his.

      She knew she was a tall woman, but her eyes were merely on the same level as his chin. He made her feel tiny and delicate, rather than overgrown as she had in the past. Even Aefirth had been barely taller than her. Absently she rubbed where his hand had encircled her wrist.

      ‘I give better protection than the men who died, the ones who were supposed to ensure you and the other woman came to no harm.’ He released her chin. ‘Was she your mistress?’

      ‘My mistress?’ Cwenneth hesitated. He thought her the maid! Her heart leapt. A tiny glimmer of hope filled her. This Norseman had made a fundamental error.

      If he knew who she was, he’d return her to Hagal who would surely kill her. A wife, even a solemnly betrothed bride like she was, was a husband’s property. And they were fellow Norsemen. She needed to get back to Lingwold and warn her brother of Hagal’s treachery rather than be delivered with a pretty bow about her neck to that viper.

      ‘Who was your mistress? Quick now. It is hardly a difficult question.’

      ‘The Lady of Lingwold. She was on her way to finalise her marriage to Hagal the Red.’ Feverishly Cwenneth prayed that her deception would work. ‘I’m her tire woman. Cwen. I’d left the cart to gather bluebells and hopefully improve the smell. After all the travelling we had done, the cart stank. The herbs in the cart gave my lady a woolly head.’

      She gulped a breath of air as the words tripped off her tongue. So far, so good.

      He pointed to the gold embroidered hem of her gown. ‘A very fine gown for a maid to be wearing, Cwen.’

      ‘One of my lady’s cast-offs,’ she said with a curtsy. ‘I had it in honour of her marriage. She had many new gowns and no longer had need of this one. It was from her first marriage and quite out of date.’

      He nodded, seeming to accept her word. The tension in Cwenneth’s shoulders eased a little. Cwen had a good ring to it, reminding her of Aefirth’s pet name for her.

      How hard could it be to play the maid? It was far safer than being herself—the woman whom everyone wanted dead or believed cursed beyond redemption, destined never to have a family who loved her.

      ‘And, Cwen, your lady did not wish to get out of the cart and sent you instead. Did she fear bandits?’ His lip curled slightly as if he disapproved of such fine women.

      ‘She knew about the possibility of outlaws. There are desperate men about these days.’

      ‘Even though she must have known she was on her bridegroom’s lands.’

      ‘Even then. My lady was timid.’ Cwenneth gestured about her. ‘It is in places such as these that man-eating wolves lurk. Or so my...her nurse used to say.’

      She winced at her near slip, but his face betrayed nothing. Perhaps he didn’t have that good a grasp of the language. Or perhaps... Drawing attention to the mistake would only make matters worse. But she had to have convinced him. He looked to be more muscle than brain like most of the Norsemen. Certainly his shoulders went on for ever.

      The ice in his eyes grew. ‘If she was in the covered cart, how did she know about the woods, the wolves and most of all the bluebells?’

      ‘My lady caught a glimpse of the outside through the slats in the window when the cart stopped so they could get the mud off the wheels. I went to fetch them,’ Cwenneth improvised. ‘She would hardly have let me go if she thought the attack was going to happen. My lady trusted her men and the promises her bridegroom gave.’

      Cwenneth finished in a breathless rush. If she kept to the truth as much as possible, she should be able to fool him.

      When she had her chance, she’d escape and return to Lingwold, like in the stories her nurse, Martha, used to tell. Her brother would see that justice was done. Enough warriors to make a formidable army would flock to Edward’s banner when he put the call out to avenge this outrage.

      ‘I find it hard to believe Hagal allowed his bride to travel without protection. Or did she intend to surprise him? This timid bride of his?’

      ‘Hagal provided over twenty warriors. You would have to ask them why they fled. My lady was only allowed six of her own men.’ She waited, heart in her throat, to see his response.

      His stone-hard face betrayed nothing. ‘Do you wish me to take you to Hagal the Red’s stronghold? He will want to hear news of his bride’s demise.’

      Cwenneth’s stomach knotted. The Norseman was leaving the decision up to her. Lingwold was a real possibility instead of a cloud-in-the-sky fantasy. She could almost see the comforting stone walls rising up before her.

      ‘Her brother needs to hear the news first. He will give a reward for information about my lady. I know it.’

      The Norseman remained implacably silent.

      Cwenneth pressed her hands together and gathered her courage. ‘I believe...I believe Hagal’s men murdered everyone in my party.’

      There, she had said it and had mentioned the possibility of a reward. Gold always motivated the Norsemen. Her stomach twisted in knots. In the silence which followed she could hear the flap of a wood-pigeon’s wings.

      ‘A strong accusation,’ he said, his face remaining devoid of any shock or surprise. ‘Why would Hagal’s men want his bride dead? He will have spent time and effort negotiating the marriage contract.’

      ‘Perhaps they are in the pay of Thrand the Destroyer and betrayed their master.’

      ‘I think not,’ he said, crossing his arms, and his face appeared more carved in stone than ever. No doubt he expected her to cower. ‘Try again. Who attacked this convoy?’

      Cwenneth glared back and refused to be intimidated. ‘I speak the truth—Hagal’s men did it under his orders. I overheard them speaking afterwards. He wanted her dead to fulfil a battlefield vow he made. I hope even Norsemen have a respect for the truth. The Lord of Lingwold certainly will. He’ll see justice is done and Hagal the Red is punished for this crime.’

      As she said the words, Cwenneth knew she spoke the truth. Edward might have desired the marriage, but he wanted her alive. Blood counted for something...even with Edward. He would take steps to avenge Hagal’s actions. Even a convent without a dowry currently sounded like heaven compared to being a Norseman’s slave or, worse still, murdered.

      ‘How did you propose to get to Lingwold? It is over a hundred miles through hostile wilderness and floods. The mud-clogged roads from the recent rain are the least of your problems.’

      Cwenneth sucked in her breath. He СКАЧАТЬ