Judging by the look on the old man’s face, there was more to tell. “Speak.”
“Rachelle’s Uncle and her maid, Mercia, have come for her.”
Tyr nearly choked. “Here?”
“No,” Onetooth bit out. “In another lord’s great hall.”
Tyr nodded, stupefied. He’d deal with his captain’s sarcasm later. Obviously, the man was worried; he’d grown quite fond of Rachelle.
“I share your concern.” Tyr donned the clean shirt. He combed his beard and hair, then eyed the door. “I’ll never give her up.”
Onetooth’s face tightened. “We’ll find her.”
Tyr immediately noticedRachelle’s uncle as he entered the great hall. The man was dressed in a finely embroidered military tunic and wool cloak. His grey beard and peppered hair was slicked back. Rachelle had described him as large, but from what Tyr saw, the man must have lost a considerable amount of weight. The dark-haired girl at his side was nearly as striking as Rachelle. Tyr’s shipmen were seated at the high table and only a few servants were about serving food and drink. Guards were posted at the doors. Excellent, his reliable captain had cleared the room of any unnecessary visitors.
Tyr didn’t like surprises or Saxons. However, he appreciated the other man’s astonishment once they both got a full look at each other. Not all Englishmen were cowards. It took a great deal of courage and love for this man to board his ship and sail to Norway. For this reason alone, thejarlwould deal fairly with him. Tyr claimed his seat and scanned the room before speaking.
“You shouldn’t have come here.” Tyr looked at the stranger.
Short and muscular, Henry stepped closer to the dais. “And you should never have gone to England, you bloodsucking parasite.”
Tyr’s eyes narrowed at the insult. He cast a look at Onetooth, who always lingered nearby in case violence erupted.
“But I did, milord, and now you’re here to beg mercy from me. Let us agree to remain civil—I think we might discover we have the same goal.”
Tyr willed himself to remain calm. The memory of his twin brother’s bloodied body hanging limply in his arms still tormented him. This man sought a beloved niece. Yet, the temptation to thrust a pike through the belly of another Saxon pig crossed his mind, too.
“I care little for formalities, Jarl Sigurdsson. After we discuss the future of my niece, do with me what you will. Where is she?”
If only Tyr could give a proper answer. “Gone…”
Rage overtook the older man. “Hva har du gjort med henne du sodomitt?”Henry screamed in perfect Norse.
Surprised he spoke his language, Tyr replied, “I’ve been called many things, Sir Fiennes, but a Sodomite isn’t one of them.”
“Where is she?”
Tyr despised himself for getting drunk and losing Rachelle. “Onetooth.” He’d scour all of Norway if that’s what it took to recover her. “Send out two search parties. Cover the steading first. She may be hiding.”
Onetooth nodded and left the hall.
After half an hour of arguing with Sir Fiennes, Tyr was weary and impatient to find Rachelle. “I could send you back to England.”
“The Normans spared my life, not my lands and wealth. There’s nothing to return to.”
“Where did you encounter my men?” Tyr asked.
“In York. So many of my countrymen have been uprooted, York is brimming with migrants. There are no coincidences in life. I believe God brought us here.”
Tyr nodded. “Sit with me.”
After a long pause, Henry walked around the table.
Tyr handed him a cup of wine. “Tell me about the girl?”
Henry eyed Mercia. “Her mother served me faithfully for forty years. When the Normans invaded, I claimed her as my own daughter so they’d spare her the humiliation other women have suffered.”
Tyr considered the man’s plight and deeply appreciated his bravery. “You did the honorable thing.” Tyr’s respect for him grew in the span of a few seconds. He signaled for one of his guards. “Take this young woman to Rachelle’s bedchamber. Let her rest. Stay posted outside the door.”
