He knew, without asking, what she meant. They continued a little further and Styr asked a bystander where they could find the slave markets. The man pointed them in the right direction, and she saw the tension in his face. If Elena had been sold as a slave, she could be anywhere...even brought to distant lands. He might never find her.
A hollow feeling took root within Caragh, suffusing her with guilt. For if Styr never saw his wife again, his marriage was essentially over.
He could be yours, the voice of sin whispered.
She lifted her gaze to his sun-darkened hair and brown eyes. There was no man as powerful and strong as this one. And when he’d touched her, it was as if her body craved more than he could give.
But it was wrong to even think of it. She closed her eyes, forcing back the dishonorable thoughts. A man like Styr deserved to be with the woman he loved. Not her.
The longer they walked, the more her feet began to ache. Caragh hid her discomfort, for it was not only Elena they needed to find; it was also Brendan.
She’d not seen any sign of her brother at all, and more and more, she was wondering if he had gone elsewhere.
They walked through a maze of streets, past livestock and throngs of people. Caragh didn’t know how they would ever find anyone in a place as large as this. She was accustomed to a small ringfort with only a few dozen inhabitants. Here, there were hundreds. Perhaps even a thousand.
She gritted her teeth against the swollen blisters on her soles, not wanting to reveal any weakness. When they reached the interior of the city, she saw the auction block and the chained rows of men and women. Most were Irish, but there were a few Norsemen and women among them.
Although it was cold outside, the men were mostly naked, wearing only a cloth around their waist to cover themselves. She supposed it was to reveal their physical strength. The women wore a shapeless brownléine, their hair hanging loose. When she saw a few boys awaiting their turn to be sold, her heart twisted at the sight. What had happened to their families? And why would anyone want to sell a child?
Styr went to ask one of the Norsemen about Elena, but Caragh couldn’t tear her gaze from the young boy. He reminded her of Brendan, years ago, when both of them had played together as children. Though her brother had made terrible mistakes in thepast few days, he was still her kin. And his life depended on what had happened to Elena.
When Styr returned, his face was grim. “They were here, a few days ago. My men were, at least. But not Elena. They didn’t see a woman.”
“Perhaps they were lying.”
“No. They had no reason to lie about her.”
His hands clenched into fists with a palpable frustration. Though he steeled his expression, she knew he feared the worst.
“She’s not dead,” Caragh assured him.
“You don’t know that, any more than I do.” He gripped her hand in wordless command not to speak of it before he led her away from the marketplace. Caragh cast one last look at the young boy, wishing she could save him.
But she could not delay any longer. Styr’s pace had hastened, his long legs striding forward as he moved northwest.
“Where are we going?” she asked, biting her lip against the pain of her blistering feet.
“I learned where one of my men was sold. He’s still within the city, and I plan to speak with him and find out what happened to Elena.” He kept a tight grip upon her hand, guiding her through the narrow streets, across a bridge that spanned the River Liffey.
“How far away is he?” she asked, praying it could not be much further.
“Another hour. Unless we hurry,” he told her.
Caragh glanced up at the afternoon sun, which was starting to descend. “We have to be back by nightfall. My brothers will—”
“I don’t care what your brothers want,” he snapped. “You were the one who insisted on coming with me. And if night comes before we get back, so be it. I will find my wife, no matter how many hours it takes.”
Though he sounded impatient, she didn’t miss the note of fear in his voice. “I hope we do find them. But could we rest, for justa moment?” Her lungs were burning from exertion, and her feet were slick within her leather shoes.
He did stop walking, but appeared annoyed at the delay. Caragh moved down to the river bank and removed her shoes. She dipped them into the cool water, and the relief was immediate. He drew closer and when he saw her feet, his demeanor changed. “When did your feet start bleeding?”
“An hour ago.” She washed away the blood, letting the cool water soothe the swollen skin. “I’ll be all right in a few minutes. Why don’t we eat and then we can continue?” It had been hours since they’d broken their fast with the meat pies, and she was hungry again.
Styr ignored her suggestion and picked up her shoes. He turned them over, revealing the holes within the leather. “You’re not walking in these.”
She shook her head at that pronouncement. “I’ve no other choice.”
“I’ll carry you.” He gave back the shoes and pulled one of her feet from the water. Though it was dripping wet, he dried it upon his hose and examined her blisters. When his thumb brushed against a sensitive place, she flinched.
