He nodded and gave her a half-smile. Did she care for Camelee and Hild? Well…good. He was glad.
He gave her hand a pat and moved on to the other woman who, it turned out, swore she was with Fin for a better part of the night, though she smiled at Wolf like a hungry feline and licked her lips. She shrugged when he shook his head at her. “He saw the smoke this morn and ran here. He even left me alone.”
“I spoke to him after that,” said Genevra. “He said to tell you that he went to find her and bring her back. He also said you would not forgive him for this, and he did not want to see that in your eyes.”
Wolf stared at her. What? That did not sound like his brother. Maybe the young Fin would have said it, but Fin no longer cared what his brother thought of him. Wolf thought he could be trusted to lead the men. But Fin had been too hard at work in the bed of a woman who robbed the dead to concern himself with the men who were being ambushed and killed.
“Is anyone else alive here?” When Genevra shook her head, he beckoned her to his horse. “Come then, we will return to Camelee and Hild.”
“What about your commander? Do you not want to know which way he went, which was obviously the wrong way if he did not find her and you did.”
Yes, Wolf thought, unless he had escaped and left Genevra alive to tell him of the noble thing he was doing. Wolf would have scoffed if it didn’t prick his heart so much.
“I will find him,” he assured her. And he would. But not now. He didn’t know what to believe about his brother. Not anymore, and not just recently, but for the last few months. They had grown apart and things had become harder. They had fought about it just last month. Fin knew his brother wanted to return to the north and finish his life there. He was angry about it because he wasn’t ready to do the same. But it was time Fin grew up and survived on his own.
If he’d betrayed Wolf in any way, he had better pray to whatever god or gods he prayed to that Wolf did not find him.
The reunion between the women, young and old—or well—older, was pleasing to watch.
At least young Alric thought so—abouthim.
“What?” Wolf demanded, trying to sound firm but quiet after being caught watching her like a lost dog.
“You have a heart, after all.” Alric grinned as if he’d just discovered the cure for love. It most certainly felt like an illness.
“The child needs them. It is good to—I like—” It all sounded as if his heart were involved in some way. He was Chief Wolf Kristiansen. He’d just told the brat, Alric, that he didn’t have a heart. He—he stopped and ground his teeth, tightening his jaw. “Why am I answering you? Go away before I run you through.”
Alric shook his head. “She likes me, and so does Hild, so you will not do that.”
Wolf curled his mouth into a snarl. The cold, polished edge of the same blade that killed Aethelwold pressed against the boy’s neck before Alric could speak again. Wolf stepped closer, without moving the blade and looked into Alric’s eyes. “You risk your life on the belief that I care what either of them thinks.”
The boy who thought to stand against him trembled, but his eyes remained steady. “Aye.”
Wolf glared at him, but…he was correct. So Wolf left him alone and ordered that they prepare to move out. He didn’t let Alric see any trace that he was correct in his assumption. Of course, he wouldn’t kill a boy. Threaten him, yes, but not kill him. It showed Wolf, though, how easy it was to recognize that Camelee meant more to him than anything else.
Still, pride could not be allowed to fester. No one was indestructible. He thought of his brother. No matter how much they would disagree, they were still brothers.
Chapter Ten
“You didn’t runaway when you had the chance, like the others did,” Camelee told Genevra a half-hour later, when they were back on the road behind a small army of men. She thanked God for the millionth time that her friend was safe and alive.
“Where would I go? Who would I care for?” Genevra smiled and looked down at Hild, pressed close to her bosom.
Camelee wasn’t jealous. At least the girl’s preference for Genevra was a little more understandable. Genevra was motherly. Alric smelled like milk. Maybe that was it.
“I hope our destinies are intertwined,” Genevra said, her smile lingering as she set her gaze on Camelee’s.
“I don’t know if I believe that kind of stuff,” Camelee told her, “but if it’s possible to be connected to people then I wouldn’t mind sharing a destiny with you.”
They laughed and then smiled at each other.
What about with Wolf? Would she be willing to share her destiny with him? She let her gaze slip to him riding along the men’s flanks. He must have heard them laughing because he looked back.
Their gazes met. She offered him a smile, intact and warmed from someplace deep in her heart. She spared him her glances because there was something different about him compared to the other men she’d met so far. Or from anyone she’d met in the past. Alric was right. He clearly liked her. She knew why he denied it. It didn’t make the reason any easier to take. It was because she was a slave.
Ha! He was foolish as well as stubborn if he believed that. She didn’t belong to anyone. She didn’t care what century she was in, she…her thoughts brought her back to Aethelwold and how dangerous he was. If she hadn’t had Wolf in her life, she could have easily been reduced to servitude after he broke her will. She wasn’t certain how long she could have lived with him.
It made her see Wolf in a different light. She recognized that she was a psychiatrist’s dream, but she didn’t care. She would never have given Wolf the chance to see any good in him if she hadn’t seen the bad in others. That’s just the way it was. She was pampered and spoiled. She might not have ever appreciated this type of guy. Even if this living arrangement wasn’t permanent, living in—in the eleventh century—she was happy to have learned from it. Maybe this was all she needed to do in order to go home. Learn something. Well, she did. She closed her eyes and held on to her reins. She was ready.
