“Yes,” Sigrid panted. Her face was drawn and pale, and there were beads of perspiration on her forehead and temples. “I just don’t know what it is.”
“An omen, a harbinger of bad tidings. I don’t know what it is either, but it makes me want to run back to Strian’s boat and hide.” Gressa’s tone was hushed, careful not to let her fear filled words travel.
“I feel the same. I need to get somewhere I can cast the runes. It needs to be soon.”
Gressa looked around, when she was fairly certain no one was paying attention to them, more interested in the larger group of Norse and Highland foreigners, she led them to a rarely used storage building. Part of the roof had caved in during the winter, and Dafydd did not order its repair. Gressa led them inside and felt around for the candles she was sure were still on a shelf near the door. She found the flint and struck it before lighting the candles. Once there was enough light for them to see, Sigrid moved to a large table in the center of the room. A fallen beam and rotted sod and thatch cluttered the far right, rodents scurrying at the sound of intruders. The table was still in good condition with stools around it.
Sigrid pulled the small sack of bones and pebbles from her waist and upended it on the table. She waited until the pieces found their resting place. She examined them as they lay then closed her eyes as she rolled each one in her hand. She was on the third pebble when her eyes snapped open, but they were glassy and unseeing. Leif reached out, but Strian pulled his friend’s hands away and shook his head.
“You have to leave her alone. You know that,” Strian whispered.
“Doesn’t mean I like it.”
“It’s not a spirit walk. Let her concentrate,” Strian reminded him then ignored Leif’s glare for mentioning an experience Leif swore he would never allow Sigrid to repeat. Strian understood the man’s fear for his wife when she entered another realm that existed between the living and the dead, but it was during that spirit walk that he learned the truth of his father’s death, and his father’s spirit found peace at last.
Sigrid rolled the pebble in her hand over and over before dropping it onto the table as though it scalded her. She yanked her hand away and made a fist as if to protect it. Her eyes drifted closed, then she blinked several times as she came back to them.
“No one can sleep inside the keep tonight. Dafydd and Enfys would rather burn their home down than allow us to remain here. They hope to kill us in our sleep or murder us as we flee the fire. Somehow, they know that Rhys didn’t die because of Grímr. They need the wealth Grímr promised after he defeats us. Dafydd had debts to another prince, and he wants the coins and jewels to buy alliances. He has his sights set on unifying Wales under his banner. He thinks he is doing Grímr a favor.”
“How do we tell the others without making Dafydd and Enfys aware that we know something is wrong?” Strian asked.
“Sigrid, I need you to find Lena and Lorna then the royal children. Take them to a small gate in the southwestern wall. The key sits under a patch of grass someone cut way to make a hidey-hole. Leif, you and Strian need to wait for them at the wall. Take them through and into the field to the west. Keep them there until I come for you. No one else unless it’s from our immediate circle should tell you to come back.”
“No.” Strian crossed his arms and shook his head. “Send Erik or Bjorn. Even Freya or Tyra. I’m not getting separated from you again.”
“But that’s what I need. I need Dafydd and Enfys to see me away from you. They need to think you’re not protecting me. They’ve seen me fight, but they don’t understand what the other women can do. They still think I’m an oddity. I could tell from the way Dafydd looked at the women. He doesn’t fear them but rather pictures joining with them. I need Tyra and Freya for this.” Gressa faced Strian and rested her hands on his folded arms. “It won’t be like before. I won’t let it. I thought crawling into those trees would make me safe until you found me. I never imagined that I would be too weak to be loud enough for you to hear me. I’ll be with Freya and Tyra the entire time.”
“Doing what?” Strian’s eyebrow seemed to disappear into his hairline.
Gressa shook her head. If she revealed that part, there was no way any of the husbands would agree.
“Please. I need you to trust me.”
“Gressa, you promised no more secrets.”
“It’s not a secret. You just will not allow it if you know, but I know Enfys and Dafydd. This will work.”
“You don’t know them at all. If you did, they wouldn’t have been able to manipulate you and betray you.”
Gressa pulled back and set her shoulders, an edge creeping into her voice.
“That is true. But I lived with them for ten years. There are things about them I know that few others do. I intend to manipulate them just as they did me. I need their children safe. They aren’t a part of their parents’ machinations, but I will use them, or rather threaten them. We have to hide the children far enough away that the guards can’t find them in the keep or the grounds. Strian, they can’t see themselves become orphans.”
Gressa’s voice trailed off, knowing that she, Strian, Tyra, and Bjorn were all orphans, too. They had been part of loving families, even if she had not, and for all the prince and princess’s faults, they loved their children. Gressa was an orphan, too, but she had never known what it was like to miss her parents. Ivar and Lena were the closest she had. She might not understand the feelings, but she could sympathize with her friends and the royal children.
“Leif will take Sigrid to find Lorna and Lena while I come with you to find Freya and Tyra. Only then will we consider leaving either of you.” Gressa knew that was the only compromise they would offer her.
Both husbands pulled their wives in for searing kisses that held promises of love making but also included an element of goodbye. All four knew there were no guarantees to their safe returns.
Gressa watched Strian walk away, looking back over his shoulder often. It had been easy to find Freya and Tyra, but it had been difficult to convince their husbands to let the women go with Gressa. They sent Bjorn and Erik grumbling to oversee the Norse warriors who milled about in the courtyard and to prepare for the second half of her plan. Gressa, Tyra, and Freya joined Ivar and Rangvald who held Dafydd a captive in his own solar. The women shared Gressa’s plan with the jarls, and both Rangvald and Ivar laughed as they looked down at Dafydd who had been firmly placed in a chair. Lorna and Lena entered soon after with a hissing and swearing Enfys. The Norsemen and women left the solar but not before Ivar locked the door and handed the key to Gressa.
Gressa had already told Freya and Tyra the plan, and Lorna and Lena were wise enough to be patient until their husbands could share the details. The two frús knew they were to help Sigrid gather the four royal children, so left in search of Sigrid.
The three women stood in the passageway listening to the squabbling that came from within the solar. Gressa quietly interpreted the argument between the royal couple while they stripped off their vests and tunics only putting the vests back on. She had a hard time keeping a straight face as she told Freya and Tyra some of the more colorful insults Enfys fired at her husband and his manhood. When the arguing seemed to end, Gressa counted to one hundred, then she unlocked the door and ushered Freya and Tyra in. It relieved the three women to see the others had bound both Dafydd and Enfys to the chairs they occupied.
Dafydd’s eyes followed the three young women who entered his solar. He noticed they had removed their tunics and not because it was warm. All three of the women had their bosoms on display, and while he knew they were attempting to seduce him, his mouth watered. He shut out his wife’s curses that they were whores and gorged his eyes on what he wished to feast upon. Freya approached him first, leaning far forward as she inspected the knots that bound his wrists together. Dafydd reached for Freya, but she was too quick. She wagged a finger at him. Tyra came next, squatting between his legs, checking that each of his calves was bound to a chair leg. Dafydd tried to lean forward to touch the amble flesh he could see beneath the neckline of Tyra’s vest, but the rope around his middle yanked him back. Once Gressa was convinced Dafydd could only look, she walked over and straddled his lap. Freya and Tyra pulled the man’s arms over his head, so he could not touch Gressa. Instead she rested her hands on his thighs beside his very noticeable arousal. She rocked forward, bringing her breast a hairsbreadth from his chest. He grunted as he tried to thrust his hips below her.
“Uh-uh-uh,” Gressa purred. “Not yet. Soon enough you will finally have me.”
