“I would like water for washing,” she said, considering the subject closed.
“Not until ye tell me what ye have endured, so I might understand ye better.”
“Why is it so important you understand me? I told you enough last night.”
“Because I canna fully trust ye if I dinna understand ye, and if I dinna trust ye, I canna help ye.” He cast a glance back over his shoulder and shouted, “Hendry! Ale.”
The boy appeared before the echo of his liege’s shout had fully faded. He placed two tankards and a pitcher on the table, then gave her a shy bob of his head. “Good morning to ye, m’lady. If the clothes I gathered dinna suit ye, I can find others that might. Just tell me what ye need.”
“Thank you, Hendry.” As long as the garb covered her and didn’t interfere with self-defense, she didn’t care if it looked comely. But she wouldn’t tell Hendry that. Not when it seemed so important to him. “I appreciate your kindness.” She graced him with a genuine smile. “Some water for washing would be nice.”
“Aye, m’lady. I shall set the water to heating.” The lad dipped his tousled head again, then rushed back outside.
Thorburn slid her tankard closer. “Now, help me understand ye, Adellis. I can better help ye if I understand and know ye trust me, as well.”
He wished to hear her truths? Fine. She would tell him what she could bear to bring into the light. The cool metal of the tankard centered her as she cupped her hands around it and stared down at her reflection. “Alrek arranged the death of our father.” That was one of her brighter memories. A time of relief and hope that life might change and improve. She ran her thumb along the mug’s handle. “I paid a share of the silver because our sire was a cruel man. Often crazed with fits of unreasonable anger. His murder won Alrek the allegiance of most in the clan.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “But it appears the tendency toward barbaric madness passed from father to son.”
Thorburn didn’t speak nor drink from his cup. Just sat there. Silent. Watching her.
Her shoulder twitched as if her body rebelled about reliving what came next. “After claiming the jarldom, Alrek took it upon himself to arrange a marriage for me. A union that would ensure him powerful allies, additional lands, and money. When I refused, he had me tied to a post and whipped in front of the clan because I had chosen my own wishes over their well-being. Or so he said.” The horror came back to her as if it had happened yesterday. In fact, she relived it every night in her dreams. The unholy gleam in her brother’s eyes as he had watched the torture. The demons in her dreams had her brother’s eyes. Even though they had shared their mother’s womb, he had always hated her, and she had never known why. All she knew for certain, for as far back as she could remember, was she hated him, too.
“Once I healed and regained my strength, I ran away.” She tensed at the memory of that terrible failure. “They tracked me to the village where I took refuge, tied me to the common well, then barricaded everyone inside their houses and set fire to everything.” She took a long, deep drink, then clunked the tankard back onto the table. “I still hear the screams of those who helped me whenever I see a red sunset.”
Without a word, Thorburn refilled her tankard. He made as though to speak, but she held up a hand and stopped him. “I am not finished, my inquisitive bear.” After a deep breath, she continued. “After that, I thought ridding myself of my virginity would solve Alrek bartering it away. Taking lovers protected me somewhat.” She shrugged. “At least until my brother started killing them off. Men are not so lusty when they fear death.”
“How came ye to be a warrior?” he asked quietly. “How did ye convince yer brother to allow that?”
She stared off into the distance, remembering back to the day that fate had finally helped her. “I used his ego and madness against him.” Satisfaction at that one success tickled the corner of her mouth. “And a bit of heather ale I brewed with the help of our seer before she died.”
“Heather ale?” Confusion furrowed Thorburn’s brow.
“Heather and an herb the seer wouldn’t tell me the name of steeped in a kettle of Alrek’s favorite port. She told me to trust her.” A sigh escaped her. “I did. She and my mother were the only ones left in the clan I knew I could trust.”
“So, how did this heather ale work such magic and make him grant ye a sword?”
“We offered the brew to Alrek with the promise that if he was truly descended from Vikings, it would mix with his blood and give him visions. Divine whisperings from the gods themselves.” She rubbed the long, thin scar on the inside of her left wrist. The scar she had gotten the night she had given Alrek the drink. A good portion of blood had also been required for the potion.
“The brew turned him into a blubbering fool at first. But the seer told me not to worry and bade mesuggest, to plant the seed of what I wished into his mind. So, I planted my desire for freedom, and just in case he was more coherent than he acted, I seeded the wish to fight at his side with the ferocity of the fabled Valkyrie. I chose my wording carefully. Alrek might be insane, but he is dangerously sly.” She shook herself free of the past and leveled her gaze with Thorburn’s. “My wish to fight appeared to be the only seed that took root before the drink sent him screaming into the darkness. I thought him poisoned for certain. Hoped for it, even. But he lived.”
“Why did ye not just kill him?” He still doubted her. She could see it in his eyes.
“A canny coward keeps himself well guarded at all times. Alrek has a legion of personal guards.” She paused to fill their tankards again. “And he always made certain to remind me that Mother was in the tower and would suffer even more if he died. He had a standing order that she be skinned alive and staked out for the ravens should any ill befall him.”
“His own mother? Yer mother?” he repeated in a hushed voice.
“Yes.” She hadn’t planned to share that part, but somehow, it just rolled off her tongue. “After I had foiled his efforts any way I could, he imprisoned our mother in the tower with the promise that if I refused his will one more time, she would suffer for it.” Her eyes stung, but it couldn’t be tears. She had given up weeping long ago. Tears changed nothing. “Mother hanged herself with her belt. I found her. Along with a letter containing her blessing and the hope that her death would grant me the freedom I deserved. She also begged my forgiveness. For everything.” She blinked away the vision forever burned into her mind. After draining her mug, she clunked it back to the table. “That was the day before we set sail for Mull.”
He stared down at his drink, scowling into the tankard, one finger tapping against its side. “So ye thought then to allow yerself captured byGallóglaighto escape him?”
“Yes.”
“Ye realize ye couldha been killed or worse?” A sternness tightened Thorburn’s mouth. He thumped the table, then bounced his fist off his chest. “Not all captors are as benevolent toward women as myself, ye ken? What if a darker fate had befallen ye?”
“I have endureddarkerand was prepared for it.” He did not know her trials. Life had tempered her with unforgiving fire. She was as hard as the finest steel and proud of it. “Capture was my surest way of escape, endangering no one other than myself.” She locked eyes with him, willing him to understand and believe. “Too many have suffered and died because of me.”
“I still canna see why ye didna kill the bastard yerself? Yer a canny lass. Ye couldha found a way.”
“Before her imprisonment, my mother made me swear to never kill him.” Of that, she would say no more. Mother always blamed herself for Alrek’s twisted mind, but Adellis never knew why. The reason was made clear in the letter Mother left behind. Adellis had always suspected after picking up on some rumors. But she never knew for certain until she read the words in Mother’s own hand. How Father forced her to choose which child she would surrender to Father’s allies whenever they visited. Rich, titled men with an illicit hunger for the young and helpless.
