He forced a smile enough to make his scar ache. ‘What, and miss the chance of seeing Sigmund’s grizzled face again? Particularly as you have helpfully confirmed that he has another name. Halfr the Bold, by any chance?’
She wrinkled her nose before examining the ground. ‘I have heard the name used before in connection with Lord Sigmund,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I should not have used it, but the news about the sons of Drengr shocked me.’
‘We will stay. We can camp out here or you can accommodate us somewhere suitable.’ He paused before going for the jugular. ‘Your choice,Ingebord.’
She took a step backwards and he knew he had penetrated her disguise. ‘I… I… I no longer use that name. I much prefer Svanna.’
He narrowed his gaze and saw the fear she tried to mask. Not quite the impervious Ice Maiden, but a woman with secrets that needed revealing. He instinctively fingered his scar. ‘Don’t lie to me. We encountered each other in Agthir. Nine years ago.’
Her eyes widened and her hands played with the neckline of her gown. ‘You remember me? I mean…did we?’
‘You are quite memorable,’ he purred, looking at her directly, willing her to believe the exaggeration. He had no memory of what had happened preceding the attack, or if they had ever conversed, but he’d never attacked a woman nor stolen a kiss from an unwilling one.
A frown puckered her forehead. ‘I will find you accommodation. Given the sheer number of warriors, it will be in one of the disused buildings.’
She obviously expected him to instantly turn up his nose.
‘Luckily, my men and I are remarkably unfussy and will not look upon any accommodation as an insult. Shelter is welcome.’
His men made non-committal noises. He knew they would obey him. And there were many worse places to spend a night. But Sigmund Sigmundson—or Halfr the Bold—would hear him out. He would make him understand the danger their two adopted countries now faced. Their common enemy must be stopped before it was too late.
‘And you will stay there until I come for you. Whatever you want from this place, you will not get it if you fail to keep to my instructions.’
Rand made his best courtly bow. He would find a way of getting what he wanted, and save his cousin’s life. And Ingebord—or Svanna, as she now called herself—was going to ensure it happened, even if she failed to realise that. He looked forward to the realisation dawning on her.
‘To hear is to obey, my fair lady.’
* * *
Of all the things Svanna didn’t need to happen today, the arrival of Rand Fullrson and his subsequent refusal to leave ranked up there. He required more than a polite conversation with Lord Sigmund about the threat from this new band of warriors. And, unfortunately, he’d guessed her previous identity and, what was worse, appeared to remember something of their brief encounter.
Svanna tried to concentrate on the practical problem at hand rather than allowing her mind to loop round and round. She required a place where Rand and his band would be able to lodge but be out of the way until she could quietly let the Queen know about the problem and its potential to disrupt the proceedings.
Rand, with the jagged scar down the left side of his face, did not resemble the boy who had featured in her girlish dreams all those years ago. She knew if she asked about their encounter, she risked confessing about the night, the stolen kiss on her cheek and then the sweet accidental meeting of their lips.
‘This is where you want us to stay?’ Rand’s gaze narrowed. ‘It looks to be a disused pigsty rather than a barn. Anyone would think that you don’t want us to remain here, my lady. My king will not look favourably on any who refuse hospitality.’
‘Everywhere else is full due to the celebrations,’ she said, forcing a smile that dripped with insincerity. ‘You are welcome to remain on your ship. Whichever you prefer. I’m sure your king will understand. We had no idea about your arrival.’
She waited and hoped he’d make his excuses.
He watched her with guarded eyes. ‘When shall we see Sigmundson?’
‘He has gone to the church. I suspect the Queen has gone with him. Arrangements will be made once I can speak with him.’
She’d noticed that the Queen had not come hurrying out of the hall as they’d made their way through the small village to the wide-eyed wonderment of some of the villagers.
It must mean that she’d gone to support Sigmund in the church. Svanna could understand her reasoning, but she’d hoped to offload the burden of accommodating Rand and his men to her.
Rand fingered his scar. ‘Does he normally go to church?’
‘He seeks to honour the petty kings.’
His lips turned up, making his scar move. ‘And not trying to avoid me.’
‘Imagination be a cruel mistress. Sigmundson believes in hospitality towards all who come in peace.’
The scar turned his frown into a fierce scowl. ‘Please don’t take me for a fool, my lady.’
