‘Those men of mine will follow them and hurry them on their way, but there is little point in engaging them in a pitched battle. Máel Sechnaill will deal with them soon enough.’
Genuine fear shone on her face. ‘Was the church their true target? Or a feint because Turgeis wanted to harm the Dowager?’
‘As you said—how would they know?’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ Her lips turned up in a little smile.
A small curl of attraction grew within him at her continued bravery. He dampened it down. It was not the time for such things when he had this delicate mission to complete.
‘Now, shall we go rescue your mother?’
‘To risk repeating myself—the Queen has been my foster-mother for many years, never my actual mother. The difference and explanation is there, if you care to see it.’
He inwardly rolled his eyes. He’d little time for game-playing, particularly at a time like this. A foster-mother in the North had much the same responsibility as a birth-mother. ‘But you will not deny you are normally called Ingebord in Agthir?’
‘We can discuss this fantasy of yours later, but right now we must ensure people are safe, including the former Queen of Agthir, a woman who did not give birth to me.’ Svanna strode off towards the blazing hall.
Rand stared in confusion at the woman. With his salute, Turgeis had obviously indicated that Svanna was the dowager Queen’s daughter, but she swore she was not. He’d normally leave it, except something deep inside told him that the truth was somehow linked to the mysterious beating he’d received at the hands of Turgeis’s father back in Agthir. Figure out the mystery and he could finally uncover who had set him up.
She glanced towards him. ‘Are you coming? Or must I do this myself?’
‘We will find her, Svanna,’ he said and internally added that he hoped she was alive, maybe even in the church or escaping through the tunnel, but he doubted anyone could survive that inferno. He hated to think about what they would uncover when it cooled. To even attempt a rescue would require a special sort of madness and disregard for personal safety. But he refused to deny her even the smallest shred of hope.
A smile trembled on her lips. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘You do that, because it is one promise I intend to keep.’
* * *
It seemed to take a lifetime for the barriers to be removed from the hall’s doors. With every breath Svanna took, she hoped that she’d see the Queen marching alongside Halfr, having escaped from the church, but each time her lungs emptied, the conviction that the Queen was trapped in the hall grew. And that somehow the sons of Drengr were bent on exacting revenge for their father’s exile and ignominious death.
A shiver went down Svanna’s spine. She’d nearly been sick when she saw Turgeis Drengrson. Where he was, his two brutish brothers lurked. She hated to think what would happen to any woman they captured. Only her dog Tippi and then her nurse’s timely appearance in the herb garden had saved her from Turgeis’s violent embrace that day after Rand vanished.
Ever after Turgeis had occasionally muttered what he intended to do to her once the world went his way, appearing to enjoy her discomfort.
Svanna tightened her fists until her knuckles turned white, trying to beat the panicked thoughts back down inside her. Collapsing in a heap of fear over his mocking salute would be wrong when she had to find a way to avert a greater disaster. But right now, she had to allow the men to clear the heavy debris from the doors and break them down.
When the doors were freed and finally flung open, several people stumbled out, dishevelled and gasping. But none of them was Astrid.
‘Where is she? Where is the Queen?’ Svanna asked, grasping the nearest servant’s arm. ‘At the church?’
The man was coughing too much and shaking his head but managed to raise a trembling arm back towards where he’d come.
‘In the hall?’
He nodded, tears coursing down his cheeks.
‘No!’ Svanna heard the cry and knew it had come from her throat. She also knew that her foster-mother was probably severely injured or dead, or she’d have stumbled out with the rest. A faint hope remained if someone was prepared to search.
She couldn’t ask anyone else to do it either. It had to be her. She owed Astrid her life for all the years Astrid had protected her, first taking her under her wing after Svanna’s mother died and then doing her best to keep them both safe while the usurper ruled.
Without giving herself time to hesitate, she plunged in.
The fire smouldered on the roof, throwing an eerie orange glow on the walls, but the smoke-filled hall remained relatively intact. Svanna dipped a handkerchief in a jar of ale and put it over her face to give some relief from the searing heat.
She scanned the hall and spotted the Queen’s prone figure. A heavy table had been knocked over and the whetstone for saying the oaths had fallen on top of that, pinning Astrid to the ground.
‘We must get you out of here.’ She tugged at the heavy oaken table, but it refused to budge even a little fraction.
