“Do not look around,” Tormod said, putting a hand out to stop her when she began to do just that. “If they have not dealt with the dead yet, then they are leaving them there for a reason.”
“In my visions, when my father and his men were attacked, it was Norse swords and axes that were used. Not the long swords favoured by the Britons.”
“They may be waiting, watching. Ready to catch us in the act, so to speak.”
“You really think they are here, waiting?” Now there was genuine fear on her face.
“Where is the priest?” Aoife asked suddenly. “Father Bricius. Even if it was other Britons who did this, they would not kill the priest.”
“We will search for him. Any that are not among the dead must be considered traitors to your father.”
“It is not hard to believe that Father Bricius would betray my father. Nor Rhydderch. Both were more loyal to Ula than to my father.” She sighed. “I almost pity him living amongst so many who would not hesitate to betray him. You are fortunate to have the loyalty and respect of those you lead.”
“I am, indeed. Now, let us go.”
“And Rhiannon. Elisedd’s mother,” she added at Tormod’s confused expression.
“We will look for her.”
Ulf went in front of them as they walked through the gates and into the courtyard, then crossed to the door that opened into a circular tower attached to the largest building. When they went through the door, it clanged shut behind them. Tormod stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding her body tightly against his own and kissing her gently on the lips.
“This is not your doing,” she said, leaning into him.
He revelled in the thought she trusted him. Her arms tightened around him and he smiled.
He held her for a moment longer, then pushed her to arm’s length. “There is little we can do for now. We must take this to Doomster Hill upriver in time and present it before your king, but for now, we will visit where you wish and then search for Elisedd’s mother. Just to be sure.”
“Thank you.”
They went up the stairs curving inside the thick walls, Tormod with his sword drawn and his axe at the ready. Aoife had a knife in her hand and kept a safe distance behind her husband. Although he sensed the tower was empty. There was a stillness simply not felt in a building with any life in it.
On the first floor, she gestured for him to push open the door.
Inside the room were four narrow beds made up, empty, but otherwise nothing. Just an ordinary bedchamber.
Aoife was staring at a space where a bed once stood. Hers, he presumed. “There is nothing left,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?” He looked around at the bare walls, the empty surfaces and bare cupboards.
“My sisters knew what was coming,” Aoife said. “They have taken all their trinkets with them. Everything that was precious to them.”
He watched as she ran her hands over every surface and looked around each bed and on the floor and thought of how little she had brought with her. “Are you looking for something?”
“I had a pendant of my mother’s with a cut amethyst at its centre.”
“An amethyst pendant? Was it a cross engraved with knotwork?”
“Yes… how did you know what the pendant looked like?”
He was silent for a long moment, not wanting to either hurt her, nor lie to her. “I saw your stepmother wearing one like it.”
She said nothing, but her expression hardened and her fists clenched. She turned and headed for the stairs.
“Wait!” But she was gone. He hurried after her, finally catching her as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Ulf waited for them there.
“What is it?” Tormod asked him.
“We have searched everywhere. There are no signs of the priest, Lady Ula, or the daughters. Or at least none of the dead women… well.” Ulf swallowed and ran a hand down his face. “We have only found three dead women, and all appear to be servants.”
