It was when she tried to move her arm and felt the rope dig into her flesh that it dawned on her.
Sven was indeed here in the house but, just like her, he was tied up.
At first Sventhought Eahlswith was talking to herself, trying to locate the honey. It made him smile. Then he understood that there were people in the other room with her, two and possibly a third, silent one. How had they not heard that someone was entering the house? Because they had been too busy kissing and tasting one another, that was why.
By the gods! Why did the visitors have to come today, when he was waiting for her with the most painful erection of his life?
Not wanting anyone to see him tied up, bare chested and hard as a lance, he remained silent and listened, hoping to hear the intruders make their excuses and leave. But what he heard froze the blood that had been boiling in his veins when Eahlswith had straddled him.
“Listen to me, sister mine. I need you. Or rather, I need you to die.”
The woman in the other room was Eahlswith’s sister? And she wanted her dead?
His first instinct was to shout and promise the woman thunder and hail for daring to threaten Eahlswith. Then reason prevailed. If they realized someone had heard their plans, the two people would want to silence him. And tied as he was, he would be powerless to stop them. One quick thrust of a blade and he would die. Then his Alva would be at their mercy.
No, he had to be smarter and free himself before the two ruffians understood that she was not alone in the house. Thank the gods she had taken him into the storeroom, out of the way. Or perhaps it would have been better if she’d simply let him lieher down on the pallet. Then he would have been able to defend her when the two bastards entered the house instead of tied to a hook.
Well, it was what it was.
A quick tug at the rope holding his wrists to the hook indicated that he would not be able to free himself that way. Eahlswith had made too fine a job of restraining him. He needed to cut it, but how? He was alone and unable to?—
His boot.
He had a dagger in his boot, the one he had given Eahlswith so she could carve the memory of Edwin in the tree. She had asked him to take his tunic and shirt off earlier but he had kept his braies and boots. If he could somehow reach his dagger, he could use it to slice at the rope. Eahlswith had tied his two wrists together, not each to a separate loop, which meant he actually stood a chance.
Careful not to make any noise and alert anyone to his presence, he started to move. Using the rope tying him to the wall to brace himself, he rolled backwards to bring his legs above his head. Yes. It might work, if he could hold himself folded up long enough to reach into his right boot and draw out his dagger. It would not be easy but fortunately, he was strong enough, supple enough—and determined enough—to make it. In any case, there was no other choice but to keep on trying. He could not just lie there, waiting for the two bastards to put their plan to action.
Silently, he tried again, this time for real, making sure to remain still, with his ankles hovering next to his hands.
It took four attempts but he finally managed to extract the dagger.
Sven took in a deep breath. He had the blade in hand. Now for the truly difficult part. He had to saw the rope despite the awkward, almost impossible angle. It would also beslow, because he had to make sure not to drop the dagger as he worked. It was his only chance to free himself—and save Eahlswith.
“Letme tell you why I’m here.”
Eahlswith swallowed, pushing the idea of Sven being unable to come to her aid to the back of her mind to listen to the explanation she had been waiting for.
“It’s quite simple. I cannot remain married to Wiglaf,” Ealawynne said, grimacing. “He’s a pig with no idea how to treat women, how to treat me. He thinks I’m happy cooking his meals by day and enduring his rutting at night. Well, I’m not. Godstan is the man I want in my life and in my bed.”
Godstan.
Presumably the man by her side, grinning like an idiot.
Eahlswith had no idea what her sister, or indeed any woman, could possibly find attractive in a man who did not seem to be in possession of all his faculties, even if she was not surprised that Ealawynne didn’t want to remain married to Wiglaf. He was indeed a pig. She had tried to warn her about him at the time, only to be told she should mind her own business.
The falling out with her sister—and what had happened after that, the night before the wedding, of course—was the reason Eahlswith had left their village, never to go back.
She still didn’t understand what her sister’s wish to take a lover had to do with this attack, however. How was hurting her going to help?
“This is where you come in,” Ealawynne said. As girls, the two of them had been able to read each other’s minds, in the mysterious way twins usually could. Then, as hersister’s behavior had started to become more and more erratic, Eahlswith had found it hard to make sense of what Ealawynne was thinking.
Like now.
“’Tis quite a brilliant plan!” Godstan guffawed. “You are quite brilliant. I like that about you. I also like your tits. They’re perfect.”
“Thank you.”
And with those words, she kissed him
