Ulf smirks when she runs her fingers down his chest. “That is not always true.”
This time, I do roll my eyes.
“You will stay here tonight,” she orders, “and in the morning, I will tell you what I know.”
We don’t have a choice in the matter. Even if the information is minimal, I will stay in the bowels of hell if it means finding Skarth.
The children peer at me with curiosity, not fear, so like the Dane culture. They will happily fight for what they believe in. They are not cowards, something I wish I could say about Saxon men.
Bodil escorts us to a small hut. “Ulf, you can stay with me. Queen, my lodgings are only big enough for two. You do not mind sleeping in the stables then?”
Ulf’s jaw clenches, and just as he opens his mouth, I nod. “I have slept in far worse. Thank you, Bodil. I appreciate your generosity.”
She appears saddened that I didn’t retaliate, but compared to what faces me, she is nothing but a woman who wants to assert her dominance. I respect her for that.
She yanks Ulf into her lodgings while a man gestures that I’m to follow him. Ulf is about to follow me, but I shake my head. We need to pick our battles, and if Bodil knows where Skarth is, then we need her on our side.
The stables are small, but I always feel most at home outdoors and amongst the animals. The man points at a small hay patch near four goats before leaving me alone. When he is gone, I exhale and bend at the waist, taking three deep breaths as I place my hands onto my knees.
“Where are you?” I whisper under my breath.
Skarth told me to peer into the heavens and follow the North Star if I were ever lost and needed to find him. But the star has been in hiding. I wonder if Skarth does not want to be found. The thought weighs heavily on me because I need him, and he is nowhere to be seen.
“Queen Emeline,” says a young woman, no older than twenty, as she enters the stables. Her hair is a fiery red. Her eyes are the most intense green I have ever seen.
I rise and meet her inquisitive stare. I too am curious because it is unusual for a Dane to address me this way. “What is your name?”
“I am Alruna. I heard you speak of Skarth.”
I nod.
She steps closer toward me, and it’s evident she doesn’t want anyone to hear. “I know where he is. Bodil will not help you. She despises all Christians and will only lead you astray.”
“Why would you help me, then?”
“Because Skarth saved me from slavery. I owe him my life. I suspect you are here because of dire circumstances?”
“Yes, you are right.”
She nods, understanding that for me to continue, I need to know I can trust her.
She turns around and lifts her mane of red hair, exposing the back of her neck. What I see has me covering my mouth in horror.
“Who did that to you?” I ask, looking at the crucifix seared into her flesh.
“The Christians,” she replies, quickly covering her brand, not wanting sympathy.
“They were the ones who held you as their slave?”
She nods, turning back around to face me.
I don’t want to insult her by saying sorry because she is brave, and those words do her no good. “They were men of Northumbria?”
“No, Wessex. Soldiers.”
No doubt this was under the command of Aethelbald because it’s something his father would do. I should know because I experienced his cruelty firsthand.
“Those wretched swine will pay dearly for what they’ve done. How many Danes are imprisoned?”
