A heartbeat later, the rope holding her arms in place slackened. Ulf had not used the dagger to kill her but to free her.
She blinked and looked up, only to be met with the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen, staring at her. Ulf had knelt in front of her once again and was skewering her with a look she had difficulty interpreting. Then she understood it was fury.
On her behalf.
“We will get Judith out of this, don’t worry,” he growled. “And Mildred will pay for what she did to you both.”
It took Ylva a while to understand that her plan had worked and Ulf would help her. When she did, everything within her loosened.
“Thank you.”
“Come. We’ll go speak to my grandfather. He will know what to do.”
Ulf walked next to Ylva,his body in pain and his mind in disarray.
He didn’t fear she would try to hurt him further or run, as neither of those options would solve her problem. She needed to save her friend, and for that she needed his cooperation.
Not for a moment had he thought to doubt her story. There had been too much anguish in her voice, too much pain in her eyes, too much dignity in her attitude when she had explained who she was and what had happened to her for him to even think she was lying. She had apologized to him before stabbing him. At the time he had thought it odd. But he knew now that she had been truly sorry—and why.
Her story was one of woe such as he had heard his grandfather tell too many times. This Mildred had to be stopped from killing Judith and hurting anyone else in the future. His grandfather would know what to do. Which was lucky, because Ulf didn’t have the first idea how to get out of this situation.
The timing of Ylva’s attack had been perfect—inasmuch as such attacks could be described as perfect, of course—as he’d only come back to the village a week ago after a fortnight spent in Ipswich.
For the last few years, he had traveled the length and breadth of the county, trying his hand at different trades, only to conclude that none of them held any particular appeal. He still had to find out what suited him, but he now had a feeling that whatever it was he ended up doing, it would be here, in his native village, surrounded by the people he loved.
“Here,” he told Ylva when they reached the hut everyone knew. “Are you ready to tell my grandfather everything?”
“Yes.”
Despite the answer, she appeared unsure. “What is it?”
“Will he not…hate me for trying to kill you? I would, if I were him, so I can’t even blame him.”
He couldn’t help a smile at this answer proving he’d been right to trust her. She was not worried the formidable Icelander would hurt her but hate her. A true villain would not care about something like that.
“My grandfather only hates despicable individuals. You’re not one of them, so no, he will not hate you. He will listen to your story, I swear.” And he didn’t doubt he would want to help. His quarrel was with Mildred, no one else. “That’s what he’s done ever since he arrived in the village, all those years ago.”
“Very well. Let’s go.”
He knocked on the door.
3
“Ithink you should kill Steinar.”
Even though Ylva knew Wolf was not really ordering her to kill his son, she couldn’t help a shiver at the words.
By her side, Ulf nodded his agreement, not in the least put out. “He’s the best choice. I’m guessing the woman will like that, as she probably assumes that your eldest son is the one you prefer, and have chosen to take on the role of leader after you.”
The Icelander gave a snort. “I love Steinar, of course, but I don’t prefer him to any of my other children, in the same way he loves you as he loves your siblings. And Haakon will probably be the one who takes on the role of leader after me. But yes, I see what you mean. Vile people tend to attribute vile thoughts to others.”
Ylva looked at the tall, strong man who exuded power and wisdom. She had liked him from the moment she first set eyes on him all those months ago, when he had come to the house to ask where the trader and his son were to be found.
Today’s meeting only confirmed that he was a man who could be trusted. Formidable though he was, he was evidently first and foremost a kind and fair leader. Considering that shehad been brought to him because she’d tried to kill his grandson, she had expected him to be suspicious of her story at the very least. But he had listened to her with as much patience and understanding as Ulf himself had earlier.
And, as promised, he had immediately started to elaborate a plan to save Judith.
“You will go to the woman tonight, tell her you killed my son.”
