“Ivarr’s wife. You know what a worrier she is. Ivarr had told her what they planned, and long before the ship could be expected back, she came to Garrick and confessed all. But we thought we came for naught when we found Jurro monastery only a ruin. We thought the men had succeeded in the raid and we had left home too soon, that you were probably there now. We were making our way back to the ships—”
“More than one ship?” Royce interrupted.
“Three,” Brenna replied. “So if you were thinking about fighting us, do not. We came prepared to fight, with over a hundred men.”
Kristen found his hand. “You would not fight my father, would you?”
He only grunted in answer. Brenna made a sound very like it. “He may not have a choice, Kristen.”
“Nay, there will be no fighting,” Kristen insisted stubbornly. She scrambled out of bed, pulling the sheet with her. “Mother, I—Oh, God’s teeth! I want to see you, Mother. Stay where you are.” She swiped up a candle and left the chamber to find a torch to light it.
Royce reached for his clothes, then proceeded to calmly put them on. “You said why you wanted to kill me, Brenna. Now tell me why you did not.”
“Because I was captured and enslaved once myself, yet I came to love the man I was given to. Garrick is my husband. He has come here not as a Viking, but as a father. And ’tis the father you will have to deal with.”
“I could take you now,” he speculated, strapping on his sword. “I would then have two hostages to bargain with.”
There was soft laughter from across the room. “I would not try it.”
He said nothing as light moved toward the door. A moment later, Kristen appeared, shielding the candle with her hand, with the sheet drawn over her shoulders and around her.
“Oh, Mother, put that down,” Kristen chided. “He is not going to attack you.”
With light now, Royce was staring at an evil-looking crossbow trained on his chest, and it was not even one of his own. Brenna had brought it with her.
He began to laugh at his own foolishness in underestimating the woman. He would have been in for quite a surprise if he had tried to disarm her in the dark.
Kristen scowled at him, seeing his hand on his sword hilt. He grinned at her, putting both hands up in surrender. And then he watched as mother and daughter were reunited, Kristen running into Brenna’s outstretched arms. But it was Kristen who towered over her mother.
Royce shook his head, amazed. How could this woman be Kristen’s mother? She was so small, so petite, her slender form molded snugly in a black velvet gown. Long raven hair was braided down her back, and tender gray eyes moved over Kristen’s face as she held it cupped in her hands. Her coloring was that of the brother’s, which could only make him assume Kristen took after her father. And yet her face was so like Kristen’s. But, God’s breath, she did not look old enough to be a mother. The woman was beautiful.
“You did not explain how you found us here,” Kristen was saying.
“’Twas Perrin, making a wide circle of this area, who found this place today, and saw the men working in the yard. We withdrew to the forest, to await night.”
“Oh, Mother, you cannot know how glad I am to see you!” Kristen said, still hugging her tight. “I have been so miserable of late, knowing you would be waiting for our ship to come home, now that winter grows near, and knowing how upset you would be when it did not.”
“Thatis why you have been depressed?” Royce said incredulously.
Kristen glanced toward the bed, looking rather shamefaced. “Aye. I am sorry I did not tell you, Royce, but there was naught you could do about it.”
“I thought…Never mind,” he said testily. “Next time tell me and let me judge whether I can help or not.”
“There is no more time to waste with questions of your own, children,” Brenna said matter-of-factly. “You must answer mine, and quickly: Will you marry my daughter, Royce?”
“Mother!” Kristen cried. “You cannot ask him that!”
“I must,” Brenna insisted. “I must have something to appease your father with, although it may be too late to matter.”
“I will not have a forced marriage,” Kristen said stiffly. “And he has a betrothed. He cannot marry me.”
Brenna looked to Royce with raised brow. He smiled at her. “The betrothal she mentions has been broken.”
“What!” Kristen gasped. “When?”
“When I was gone those two days, I went to Raedwood to speak to Corliss’s father. He was not too disappointed that I did not want his daughter, when I offered Darrelle for his son, Wilburt, instead.”
“This was the surprise you said you had for me?”
