Erika’s heart leapt at those words, but her hopes were as quickly dashed by Kristen’s reply. “I will not. Selig cannot fight you on this now, so I will have to for him. She stays.”
He was not expecting an argument. “ADanishprisoner?” he exploded. “We are at peace!”
Kristen yelled back at him. “She did not consider that when she falsely accused him, imprisoned him, and had him lashed! He had a severe head injury, was already starved and burning with fever. He came to Gronwood for help, and she had him chained and whipped instead. Look at him and tell me he does not warrant revenge!”
So that he could do that very thing, Kristen tossed back the hide cover. Royce stepped closer to the wagon to look over the edge. Erika could not bear to see his expression of horror. His whispered “God’s mercy” was bad enough.
She closed her eyes. If she could have sunk into the ground, she would have. Selig said something in a light, teasing tone, possibly to put his brother-in-law at ease, but she had no understanding of the Celtic tongue he used. And whatever he had said had no effect on the tall Saxon.
Royce pulled his wife away from the wagon to say reasonably, “There is a mistake here, Kristen. There must be. Women do not treatyourbrother so.”
“Normal women would not, but this is a heartless bitch who takes pleasure in others’ pain. It came from her own lips, what she did to him, and his men know it. If you order her released,theywill kill her, doubt it not.”
His expression was rife with frustration. “Alfred will have my hide if he learns I am party to this.”
“Not if he also learns whatshedid,” Kristen countered. “But if it bothers you, take your men and go. What I do for my kin has no bearing on you.”
“Does it not?” he growled, taking a step toward her that had her backing up. “I believe I will change my mind about the time and place of your beating.”
The dagger was at Kristen’s hip, but she didn’t draw it. Her chin came up, though, and she warned him, “If you want to end up with as many bruises, go ahead. I do not come meekly when I am in the right.”
“When do you ever come meekly?” he replied, but his expression now said the urge for immediate violence had passed. “And you were not in the right in coming here without me, when it would have cost you no more than an hour to ride northeast to find me. ’Tis because you knew I would have sent you home that you did not bother, and that is why you will still get that beating.”
At which point Kristen laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can make you forget the scare I gave you,” she said confidently.
“’Tis doubtful, but I will give you the opportunity to try.”
Erika watched them move off to speak with others where she could no longer hear what was said. She was forgotten for the moment, and just as well, with bitterness starting to rise in her.
How close freedom had just come! Only to be snatched away by a stronger will. Or was it only that? Nay, she could have wished the Saxon had been more insistent, but knew why he had given in. The sight of Selig had done it, a sight clearly recalled to her own mind, and her bitterness was gone that quickly.
“Could you understand them?”
She had heard the wagon move, felt it even, but had not guessed Selig was moving to the end of it. She quickly glanced up to the left to see him sitting at the end, tall enough to lean over the side to look down at her, his arms holding to the wood to keep him steady.
Even with his face ravaged from fever and pain, he was still too handsome for words, the perfectly molded cheekbones perhaps more prominent than normal due to his weight loss, the longest lashes she had ever seen on a man, lips so sensual they promised—Erika shook such disturbing thoughts from her mind, though she still stared at him, amazed that he was not scowling at her this time, amazed thathe had spoken to her at all, so amazed it was a while before she thought to answer him.
“Mostly,” she said in the same casual tone he had used, though with a degree of caution. “Could you not?”
“Nay,” he said. “With Royce and a goodly number of his people knowing Celtic, I never bothered to learn. Do you know Celtic?”
“Nay.”
“Then ’tis well you and I know the northern tongues. What were they arguing about?”
Erika could not believe she was having this conversation.What she suffers will come from me. She had heard those words clearly, did not doubt them. Yet he spoke to her now as if they did not have that between them.
Should she apologize while he was in this strange, almost amiable mood? Should she beg his forgiveness? Explain about Wulnoth?
With those bright gray eyes so directly on her, all she could manage was to answer his question. “They are in disagreement about my presence.”
He considered that for a moment before saying, “Aye, Royce hates Danes with a passion. He would not want to be near one—for whatever the reason.”
Allusions to her predicament, no matter how mildly stated. The bitterness came back. She couldn’t help it.
“Have no fear, your sister won.”
He nodded, as if he expected no other answer. “Should you be released without my leave, or escape, I will come after you. Thereis nowhere in this land or any other that you can hide from me.”
