“I would not wager on that,” Kristen said beneath her breath, so as not to draw notice. She imagined her husband was not going to be too pleased with her right now for bringing this new dilemma upon them.
Alfred was merely perplexed. “For what conceivable reason would he need a woman captured for him, when anyone with eyes can behold how they fall at his feet in droves? Is she that beautiful?”
Royce could see that Alfred’s interest was piqued by that thought, so he quickly disabused him. “She is no more than average in prettiness. She was not taken for what you are thinking, but for revenge.”
Royce briefly explained the circumstances as he knew them. Kristen relaxed somewhat, for she didn’t come out sounding quite so foolish and irresponsible for her part in it, at least not as much as Royce had made her feel when they had discussed the matter themselves.
He finished the tale with, “If you will excuse me now, my lord, I will see what can be done to send these Danes home again.”
“You had better hope you have enough silver on hand,” Alfred warned. “’Tis the first thing those greedy bastards always demand.”
Alfred ought to know. He had depleted the royal coffers enough times to meet the exorbitant Danegeld prices demanded of him to get the Danes out of Wessex in the past. But Royce didn’t intend to deplete his own store for his brother-in-law. Whatever Danegeld had to be paid, if any did, Selig could pay it.
He had not quite reached the entrance to the hall when he noted that his wife was close on his heels. Without stopping or glancing back at her, he demanded, “And where do you think you go?”
Kristen came up beside him, but also refrained from looking at him. “With you, of course.”
“Nay, you will not.”
That adamant reply had her tugging on his arm to stop him so she could point out, “You do not speak Danish, Royce. Nor do you wish to speak directly to a Dane, even if you could. You would sooner draw your sword. I will interpret for you. ’Tis the least I can do.”
His brow lifted at that last comment. “Do you finally admit you may have made a mistake?”
“If I did not take her when I did, Selig would have gone back for her later. Either way, he would have ended up with her, or died in the trying. Nay, I do not regret my own actions. Better we have her here behind these walls, giving us the upper hand.”
His arms crossed his chest in one of his more superior stances. “Upper hand? When we are about to be besieged?”
She grinned at him. “Think you I do not know you have already made allowances for that? And if ’tis necessary, we can always threaten the lady’s life to get them to depart. It worked before.”
“With mere soldiers, aye. But a bluff may not work on her brother.”
“I was not bluffing before.”
“Because you were in a rage at the time,” he reminded her. “But you would not kill her now any more than I would—any more than Selig would.”
Kristen shrugged, acquiescing to that. “Why do we not find out what sort of man we have to deal with before we discuss our own options? Ragnar Haraldsson could be a complete idiot for all we know, and easily bought off with a few coins or promises. After all, he has ridden into Wessex with an army. If that was not a stupid thing to do—”
“Stupid or in deadly earnest—just as you were when you took army into East Angha.”
Kristen flushed atthatpointed reminder. But they continued, through the bailey and up the stairs to the wooden walk built along the length of the stone walls. The captain of the guard already had the parapet fully manned with all weapons at the ready. It was merely a formality, for it was highly unlikely there would be fighting today. Sunset was approaching. Even the initial communications might be put off until the morrow.
The Danes were boldly setting up camp just beyond firing range. From what Kristen could see, they had come prepared for any eventuality, and she estimated that there were some hundred and fifty of them, with as many mounts. Royce could surpass that number, at least in men. But not all would be seasoned fighters as these Danes were guaranteed to be.
Whatever happened, she could not let it come to fighting. If she had to sit on Selig until he agreed to give back the woman, she would. Of course, she would take his side for as long as she was able to. She was not going to give up his prisoner unless it was absolutely necessary.
She scanned the front lines to see if she could figure out which of the large Vikings was Erika’s brother. Her eyes fell on Turgeis instead, unmistakable among the others.
“I see her shadow is still around,” she remarked, not really surprised to see it so.
“Her what?”
“That is what she calls that giant, Turgeis Ten Feet, who is never far from where she is.” She pointed him out in the center of the line. “Look there.”
Royce did. “Impressive.”
Kristen snorted, remembering how the man looked when you stood on the ground next to him. “You would not think so if you had to fight him.”
“So which one is the brother?”
