“Yes, Jarl Tormod.” The man pulled at his collar, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “But I merely hoped that in the meantime…”
Tormod nearly laughed. “No, Erik, ‘in the meantime’ will simply become your claim for ownership, and I am not ready to hand that land to you and yours. Not without a proper discussion. Not after what happened to your farm back home. Now…”
“Herre, that was a misunderstanding—”
For a moment Tormod thought Erik wasn’t going to let the matter drop, then his wife appeared in the doorway with a horn of mead and ushered her husband back indoors, apologising to Tormod as she did so.
Shaking his head, Tormod turned to speak to Aoife, but she was gone from his side. He wondered if she had returned to their room, but sensed that she had not. He started towards the shore and stopped short when he saw her. A pale figure crossing the shingle. He watched and listened, hearing more than seeing each step she took on the beach before she sat on a large rock by the water’s edge. The way she was looking out across the water, she could have been waiting for someone or pining for her past life. Was she happy here? Did it matter to him? He stopped the train of thought, suddenly aware it mattered to him more than he wanted to admit.
Silently he crossed the green, grateful the sheep were too lazy to make a noise and announce his presence.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
She jumped and turned to face him.
Was she startled at his presence, or had she really been expecting someone else? He glanced around to see if there was anyone else there.
“I was just watching the moonrise,” she said.
“It’s beautiful,” he replied, looking at the silvery trail shining across the water, then following it up to the bright circle high in the night sky.
She shivered, although he didn’t think it was all that cold. “Perhaps we should go in.”
“We can warm each other up,” he said, smiling.
“I…” She stared at him. Again, he couldn’t read her expression. She glanced behind her, out across the rocks, and his suspicions returned.
“Is there someone else here?”
“Shh.” She reached out and pulled him close to her. For a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. To distract him, perhaps? Instead, she whispered close to his ear, “I think there’s someone on the water.”
He took her hand and led her swiftly into a gap in the rocks, which offered them some protection. He held still for a minute or two, but neither heard nor saw anything. “Are you expecting someone?” he asked, attempting to pull away from her.
She held him tight and frowned. “Who would I be expecting? I don’t know anyone.”
“Elisedd?”
She laughed. “He will surely be in his bed. Most of the children are already in their beds, are they not?”
Tormod acknowledged that with a curt nod. “Someone else then.”
“No, there is no one else.” Her gaze had been drifting across the water, but now she turned sharply to him, as if she had just caught his implication. “Why do you think that? It was you who wanted me to leave the hall. How would anyone have known to meet me?I left the hall with you, then you stopped to speak. I am here for you and no one else. Although we are not the only ones who are out here. Björn and—Shh, there is something else. Listen.” There was fear on her face.
At first, the only sound he heard was another couple somewhere further along the beach where there were a few crannies a couple could meet and have some privacy. It was clear what they were up to and they were no threat to the settlement.
But then he heard it. Another sound. The regular splash and dip of oars and low voices out on the water.
Aoife must have had better hearing than he did because she jerked in his arms, trying to push away. “Can’t you hear them? Can’t you hear what they are saying? Why do they come?” The fear on her face was obvious. Enough to jolt him from his suspicions and consider that maybe she did speak the truth.
He strained to listen.
“… Cadell… field… missing…” Only a few individuals’ words carried well enough to make out. One thing was clear, though—they were speaking Brythonic, not Norse.
“Do you know who they are?”
“No, I was waiting for you, and then I heard the sound of the oars. Please, you must believe me.”
The assurances would, only a few years ago, have convinced him, but he’d learned since then that he was not a good judge of women. Ingrid had proved that.
