Rurik pushed open the shutters to allow the warm morning sunlight into Wilfrid’s bedchamber. The man had been gone for months, but Annis had only recently shown an interest in going through his personal things. Rurik hadn’t pressed the issue, wanting to give her time to mourn. As a result, the chamber had been closed up ever since Rurik had ordered the various parchments and implements removed that would prove important to him in an official capacity.
She knelt on the floor beside a small chest she had just pulled out from beneath Wilfrid’s bed. Leaning against the wall, he revelled in watching her. Her auburn hair shimmered like flames in the sunlight where it cascaded down her back. He had convinced her to leave it down as they worked, loving the ability to reach over and lose his fingers in it as he wanted.
Becoming aware of him, she glanced up and blushed at the look he was giving her. ‘You don’t have to stay. I know you have things to do.’
‘Nothing more important than you.’
She gave a knowing smile and resumed riffling through the chest, metal clinking as she lifted items out and sorted them on the floor beside her. ‘I’m certain you mentioned going into the village with Danr this morning to assess the storm’s damage to the port.’
Danr had surprised them by arriving some time ago after having heard of Rurik’s marriage. Rurik had been gratified at how his twin had accepted Annis, not questioning Rurik’s desire to stay with her despite their past. The last several months had been some of the best of his entire life. He finally felt as if he had a place to belong. A home.
‘He’s only just returned from his morning ride and is breaking his fast. We’ll leave after, which means we have time to retire to our chamber for a bit,’ he said suggestively.
She wasn’t paying him any attention, having unwrapped a trinket that had been tied with a leather thong and bundled in heavy wool. He frowned at how she ignored him and made his way to her to press his case. Twin lines marred the skin between her brows as she turned what looked to be an arrow-shaped trinket over in her hands to examine it.
Curious, he came down on to his haunches beside her and asked, ‘What have you found?’
‘I confess I have no idea.’ She turned it over again. ‘I’ve never seen it, but it seems foreign. Could it be from the Danes?’
A shock of recognition shot through him as she presented it to him. It was an arrowhead pendant made of gold with notches cut into the sides. A simple enough trinket, except the ridged line down the middle was made of silver. Hilda, his father’s wife, had possessed one very similar. Sigurd had gifted it to her with the birth of one of her sons. If the idea wasn’t so impossible, Rurik would have said this was it. It looked just like it, however. He knew because he had looked upon all the pendants, one for each son, with hatred for many years after his mother’s death. He realised now that jealousy and resentment that Sigurd hadn’t presented his own mother with such fine trinkets upon the birth of the twins had been behind the hatred.
‘You know what it is?’ she asked.
He shook his head, still not daring to believe, but unable to deny that it was an exact replica if it wasn’t the same one. ‘How long would he have possessed this?’
Her hand touched his shoulder in silent support, sensing that something was very wrong. ‘I am not certain. At least several years. He hasn’t left Glannoventa since Grim’s death. You recognise it?’
‘Yes, but it can’t be.’ Propelled to his feet, Annis followed him as he made his way to the hall to find Danr. He had to show him so his brother could tell him he was mistaken. That he was wrong in his memory.
Since Wilfrid’s death, more tables had been brought in and the hall had been opened up to Rurik’s warriors so that at any given time of day there were always several men partaking of mead and food. He found Danr easily at the main table in deep discussion with Alder. The two had formed a friendship since he’d arrived.
Leofe stood, refilling his tankard of mead, which had barely been touched, with a look of longing on her face that might have been comical had Rurik not felt very badly for her repeated and thwarted efforts to seduce Danr. Like all the brothers, Danr had changed in the years since the murders, in his case becoming more serious and seemingly less inclined to indulge himself where women were concerned. To Rurik’s knowledge he had gone to bed alone every night since coming to Glannoventa.
Taking a seat beside Danr, he waited for the girl to make her way to another table before holding out the pendant. ‘What do you make of this?’
Danr stared at the arrow resting on Rurik’s palm for the space of a heartbeat before his eyes widened in recognition. His fingertip came up to float over the silver ridge. ‘It looks like one of Hilda’s.’ Brows drawing together, he said, ‘You don’t think it is?’
They both stared at it, momentarily dumbstruck.
‘How could it come to be in Wilfrid’s possession?’ Rurik asked.
Annis again put her hand on his shoulder, drawing his gaze to her. ‘Wilfrid said that someone approached him about Sigurd…back when the Norse were here, before Grim’s death.’ She took a breath as if hesitant to voice what he knew she would say. ‘I assumed he meant Lugh, but perhaps someone…whomever approached him about Sigurd…gave it to him then.’
Rurik looked from Annis to his brother. Danr stared back at him, both of them knowing that if anyone had access to Hilda’s jewellery it would be someone close to the family.
Could that person have helped plot the massacre?
Danr picked up the arrowhead, staring at it for a moment more before closing his hand around it. ‘I need to take this to Sandulf. He can verify if it is the one that belonged to Hilda.’
If anyone would know, it would be Sandulf. ‘Let me know what you need and I’ll have supplies packed to go with you.’
The quest to avenge their family was now in Sandulf’s hands.
* * * * *