Strian’s last question tore through Gressa’s heart. She pivoted and drove her fist into Strian’s stomach before her other landed on his chin.
“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of that. I thought you believed me and that you were done accusing me. So much for a marriage if you assume the worst of me the moment something tests us. I’m no man’s whore. Not even yours.”
Gressa spun on her heel and pushed through the crowd before Strian could catch her. She moved until she stood once more at the front. One man caught sight of her and called out her name. She wished she could wither into the ground. She had not intended for anyone to know she was acquainted with the men. Her rush to get away from Strian and her own curiosity would now be her undoing.
“Ydych chi'n iach?” the man closest to her asked if she was well.
“Rydw i gyda fy ngwr o'r diwedd.” Gressa forced herself to keep from smiling as she explained she was with her husband at last. She knew the others would misunderstand her smile, and while she was angry at Strian for his accusations, it did not change the fact that she was happy to be with him.
“Who are these men?” Ivar demanded as he looked between the captives and Gressa.
“The one speaking is Rowan, Prince Dafydd’s youngest brother and captain of the prince’s archers. The other two are both bowmen. The one with the longer hair is Afan, and the other is Afon. They are twins even though they don’t look much alike.”
“So, they’re friends of yours since you’re an archer, too.” Ivar’s eyes narrowed.
“Hardly. The twins are Princess Enfys’s older brothers. I’ve discovered the prince and princess betrayed me when they sent me with these men to fight for Grímr.”
“Don’t believe her,” came a voice from the crowd.
“She’s a spy!” another yelled.
“I am not,” Gressa spoke evenly. “I know them because they lived in the same village as I did. I was there for ten years; there are few people I didn’t know there. I trained with these men, but they are not friends.”
“Beth maen nhw'n ei ddweud?” demanded Rowan, wanting to know what was being said in a language none of the men understood.
Gressa ignored him as she turned to Ivar, catching sight of Strian from the corner of her eye. He had returned to the front of the crowd, but he had not come to stand by her. His distance hurt, cutting through her worse than when she realized Dafydd and Enfys’s betrayal.
“These men are spies. That’s the only reason they are here.”
“And you’re willing to turn against them as quickly as you were willing to join them.” Ivar’s tone made the hair on the back of Gressa’s neck stand up. She had grown up living in Ivar’s home, and he had been the nurturing father figure her own father refused to be. She looked around as the entire crowd seemed to sneer at her. Everyone was convinced of her guilt.
“Quickly? You forced my husband to give up searching for me. You abandoned me. What was I supposed to do when slavers took me to a foreign land where I knew no one and depended upon strangers to remain alive? I spent ten years thinking I would never see my husband again. I made a home for myself, and they allowed me to train. How could I have known one day that the people I supposed were my friends would trade me to the enemy of people who never wanted me to begin with? You might believe I would betray you, but it’s far worse that you think I would betray Strian.” Gressa turned to look at the men who strained to catch what she said but had no way of understanding. “These men do not deserve to die, but if it’s a choice between them and Strian, then let them rot.”
“Roeddech chi'n ffyliaid i sbïo ac idiotiaid am gael eich dal.”You were fools to spy and idiots for getting caught.Gressa turned her back on the men as she once more addressed Ivar. “You have valuable prisoners. Ransom them to Rowan’s other brother, Rhys. He’s with Grímr, too. Or don’t. I couldn’t care less about any of this. You’ve already decided I’m guilty by association, what do I care what happens to the men who sealed my fate?”
Gressa did not know where to go, but as long as she was not a captive too, she could not stay there. She left the training field and headed toward the forest and the path that would take her to the fjord. Her own husband believed she had lied and been unfaithful. She no longer cared for her safety. She had nothing left. The last person she loved had turned on her.
Eleven
Strian stood stunned as he listened to Gressa defend herself. He chided himself for his rash words, knowing he had ruined his marriage by believing the worst rather than coming to Gressa’s defense. When she walked away, he followed. He would not let her go alone into the forest when it was obvious Grímr’s men were nearby, and he would not wait to apologize and attempt to salvage the tatters of their relationship. He raced to catch up to her when she broke into a run once she was out of sight of the tribe.
“Gressa! Gressa, wait!” Strian called to her as she wound her way among the trees. Hearing his voice only seemed to make her run faster. Her quick pace was no match for Strian’s longer legs. He pulled her to a stop. He was prepared for her to strike out again, so seeing the tears streaming down her face undid him. Her crushed expression only made the guilt gnawing at his gut consume all of him. He fell to his knees as he took her hand. His own tears watering his eyes.
“Gressa,” his voice coming out a broken plea.
“No, Strian. You sided with them instead of me.” She tried to pull her hand free, but Strian’s grip was like a manacle. It was the one time he would not let her go when she tried to walk away. Strian bowed his head, and the way his shoulders shook told her he was crying. The only other time she had seen him cry was in the privacy of their home as he grieved for his mother. Her heart wanted to comfort him, but her mind railed against it. Her heart won, and she ran her hand along his hair.
“How could you?” her voice not more than a whisper.
“Because I was afraid,” he confessed.
“Afraid? Of what? That I would turn out to be a spy?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I was afraid one of them meant more than me, and that I would have to watch you choose someone else.”
Gressa understood. She had worried about the same thing their entire voyage. She feared a woman would be waiting for Strian, and that had been a large part of why she resisted. She could not bear watching Strian with someone else. She had battled jealousy and insecurity when they courted and other women flirted with him. She had become possessive when they married even though she tried her best to hide it.
“Strian, look at me.” She waited until he lifted his head, but his eyes were slow to meet hers. “I know that feeling. I know that fear because I felt it too the entire time we sailed. I feared what I would find when we arrived. It’s one reason I didn’t want to come back. I couldn’t survive seeing you with someone else.”
