Page 112 of Viking in Love

They told him of King Edgar’s reputation for sexual assaults, whether the women be lowborn or noble.

Their father bristled with indignation. “Did he touch any of you?”

“Nay, but I am not sure how long we will be able to fool him,” Breanne said.

“Well, keep your distance ’til we are ready to leave. And, believe you me, when I meet with these Saxon miscreants later today, I will make it clear that no complaints will be filed against any of my daughters. If there are, they will have not just me to deal with, but many of our Viking neighbors. Eirik’s brother Tykir at Dragonstead and Brandr of Bear’s Lair have pledged hirds of soldiers, if need be.”

“Not to mention Ravenshire men,” Eirik pointed out.

“Now, tell me, daughter, why it is that you stayed back at Larkspur whilst your sisters came here? And what is this about a betrothal?”

The door was opening as her father started to speak.

Caedman entered and said, “Forget about the betrothal for now. Edgar has a dairymaid trapped in a locked milk shed, and her father is heading that way with a battle-axe.”

“Let me take care of it,” Rafn said, coming in behind Caedmon. “I am in the mood for killing someone.”

That was all they needed.

It all comes down to money, honey…

The meeting of the Witan later that day was vastly different from the one held that morning.

It was difficult…nay, impossible…to ignore King Thorvald’s presence. Equally difficult to ignore was King Edgar’s surly disposition. He was not a happy king, having been thwarted in his swiving of the dairymaid, not that the maid was objecting, but her father was. It had taken Archbishop Dunstan’s intervention to pry the king away and to appease the angry father with a handful of coin. No one knew where the two thanes were. They had disappeared after the Vikings’ arrival, mayhap gone back to their Wessex homes.

Thorvald had taken one bite of food at an earlier meal and spat it out with contempt. Disregarding any of their arguments, he ordered Ingrith to the kitchen to prepare her usual sumptuous fare. That was where she and the other princesses were now. They would dine royally tonight.

Rather than the ealdorman magistrate, Eirik was the one to open this meeting. “We are here to discuss the disappearance of Lord Havenshire.”

“More like murder,” King Edgar grumbled.

“Until you find a body, there will be no talk of murder,” King Thorvald asserted.

“Putting aside any accusations of murder, why do you seek Lady Havenshire?” Eirik inquired.

“She had cause to want him gone,” Edgar snarled.

“Oh?” Eirik lifted one haughty eyebrow.

“Havenshire beat her regularly, no doubt because she needed it,” Dunstan elaborated. “All women do at one time or another.”

Rafn let out a roar of outrage, and it took both Caedmon and Geoff to hold him down in his seat. Even so, Rafn managed to yell, “You bloody bastards! Vana was a gentle woman, the least deserving of any soul I have e’er met. Personally, if he were here now, I would lop off his head. Then you would not have to search for his vile body.”

“Rafn, you are not helping matters,” Caedmon whispered.

With a snarl of disgust, Rafn plopped down in his seat, stone-faced with fury.

Caedmon pinched the bridge of his nose as he contemplated how this mess was going to be ironed out. “Do you have a headache?” Geoff asked him.

“Why? Is blood seeping out of my eyeballs?”

“That bad, huh? Methinks you need a bout of bedsport.”

“Hah! That is not likely to happen in the near future.”

“I could lend you my hunchback.”

“Geoff! You are getting married on the morrow?”