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Leif loosened his grip on Cadwgan, and the furious nobleman wrenched his arm free. “You will pay for this,” he hissed.

Leif said nothing. This was not the time to tell the nobleman that public humiliation was nothing when compared to a mortal wound or unrelenting remorse.

With a muttered curse, Cadwgan marched away. Leif watched him go.

“Would you care to explain what just happened?” Knud said.

“A mistake from the past returned to influence the present,” Leif said grimly. “Suffice it to say, we have outstayed our welcome, and the sooner we are gone, the better. It will not take Cadwgan long to send royal guards after us.”

Chapter 16

Gwenllian waited until they had cleared the crowded marketplace and were almost to their waiting horses before breaking her silence. “Are you going to tell me what caused you to tremble and turn as white as a goose feather back there?”

Rhiannon glanced over her shoulder. The Viking was no longer in sight, but Cadwgan had started across the square toward them. She tightened her grip on the nobleman’s knife and attempted to do the same with her reeling emotions. A full explanation was beyond her at present. But what could she say to stem Gwenllian’s questions? Or worse, Cadwgan’s? She was not yet ready to speak of the tall Viking with the blue eyes, whose voice she had known instantly.

“It was the first time I have seen a Viking since my father’s death.” She swallowed. Trying to explain how one moment she’d been admiring a silver necklace and the next she’d been drowning in memories of that fateful night at Bryn Eithin was beyond her. “I had not realized how unprepared I was for the encounter.”

Compassion filled Gwenllian’s countenance. “Forgive me, Rhiannon. It was thoughtless of me to push you to visit them.”

Rhiannon shook her head. “Do not take any blame upon yourself. None of us could have known that he would be—”

“So ready to defend your honor.”

Rhiannon blinked, trying to make sense of Gwenllian’s words. “To defend my honor?” She could see no correlation between the Viking’s unexpected appearance and a threat upon her honor.

“Why, yes. Cadwgan responded the moment the Norseman spoke to you with such familiarity.”

Understanding dawned. Gwenllian had interrupted because she assumed Rhiannon had been referring to Cadwgan when she’d actually been speaking of the Viking. Rhiannon struggled to remember their brief interaction. Had the Viking truly said anything worthy of a physical attack? What had driven Cadwgan to go to such lengths?

His knife lay heavy in her hand. She held it out to Gwenllian.

“Take this and return it to Cadwgan,” she said.

Her cousin accepted it with confusion. “Do you not wish to give it to him yourself? He will be here momentarily.”

Rhiannon reached for the reins of her mount. “I think it best if you do it. He will speak further about the incident, and I wish to forget it.” A groom stepped forward to assist her into the saddle, and she wheeled her horse around. “I will see you at the llys.”

Gwenllian’s confusion turned to alarm. “But you cannot leave without an escort.”

“Allow me this, Gwenllian,” Rhiannon said. “You shall have Cadwgan and his men to ride with you. I need some time alone to clear my head.”

Empathy shone in Gwenllian’s eyes. She knew about such things more than ever before. “I daresay the sea will help you. It always does.”

Rhiannon had not considered her destination. Perhaps because she had no need to think on it. The soothing rush of waves forever called to her.

“May I ask that you forbear from telling Cadwgan where I am gone,” she said. “I will see him again soon enough.”

Gwenllian nodded. “Go swiftly. He is almost upon us.”

Rhiannon required no second bidding. Touching her heels to her mount’s side, she left the marketplace at a gallop.

Leif scrambled up the rocks that protected the small inlet. In the water below, his boat rocked gently on the waves. The few remaining silver bowls, candlesticks, and items of jewelry that he and Knud had not sold at the market lay wrapped in a blanket, hidden beneath one of the seats. Two small pouches—one attached to Knud’s belt and the other to Leif’s—contained the coins they’d acquired. All that remained now was to wait for evening and the turning of the tide.

When they’d finished readying the boat, Knud had risked slipping back into town to purchase some bread for their journey. Thankfully, he had returned successful and was now resting ahead of the rowing they had before them. All being well, the lowering light would enable them to leave Gwynedd’s shores unnoticed, and once they were out to sea, they could raise the sail.

Reaching the top of the craggy rocks, Leif scoured the water. It was clear of craft. At this time in the late afternoon, most fishermen had returned to shore. Turning to his right, he studied the beach. On the other side of the crescent-shaped bay, a rocky promontory much like the one on which he stood jutted into the sea. Between the two, golden sand began at the water’s edge and rose to cover grassy dunes before disappearing into a thick grove of pine trees.

A flash of light drew his gaze to a spot where the trees met the sand. Shading his eyes from the brightness of the setting sun, Leif strained to identify its source. It flashed again, and this time, he saw movement between the trees. A brown horse, barely visible amid the tree trunks, stuck its head out from behind a pine. The metal on its bridle caught the sun, sending a flash of light across the rocks at Leif’s feet. He tensed. If there was a horse wearing a bridle, somewhere, there was a rider.