Chapter Thirty-Four

Deception Revealed

“Come.” The jarl stood and beckoned Alodie to follow him.

She stood in the wreckage. The imprint of Thorvald’s thrusting still beat between her legs and now she was being called to another man’s bed.

And he was nowhere in sight. If she had to choose whether to stab out his eyes or the eyes of the demons who’d dragged him out of the hall, she’d have her nails in the latter’s face faster than a furious cat pounced on a mouse.

The jarl had calmed the brawling men by having the servants roll out more barrels of drink. Then he’d handed out gifts of rings and ornamentation made of precious metals and jewels.

Gifts. She grunted. They were no more gifts than a weasel was a stallion. Those pretty things were bribes for treasure-hungry men whose fealty was bought far too easily. Gold and silver brought sickness to the mind. They made people forget what was important. Treasure was a powerful tool to manipulate the weak who saw more value in cold, lifeless objects than in people. That made them no more than symbols of greed and corruption.

She checked for Thorvald’s knife. When he’d been dragged away, she’d been left with nobody to help her.

She was alone…but not about to yield. Submitting to the jarl was not an option. The small knife was the closest she had to an ally. Her uncertainty faded. She would very well be able to use it.

At the nightmare’s beginning, Alodie had sworn to herself she would not kill—and killing still remained out of the question. Not one of them was worth her immortal soul, not even the demon of demons, the jarl himself.

Inflicting bodily harm in the interest of self-preservation, however… Maiming the jarl was a sin for which she could later atone and still be assured her place in heaven. God would see that she had no priest to offer her absolution, so surely He’d have mercy upon her, given the circumstance.

At the doorway, the ugly old demon himself turned. “Come, wife. I shan’t be averse to punishing you again should you prove difficult to manage. I don’t want to teach you gratitude, but I will if you make me.”

Undaunted by the threat but clutching the knife hidden in her skirts, she moved on shaky legs. The great hall was dim and smoky. The little room where the jarl led her was darker still. In the middle stood a huge bed covered with furs of black, brown, and gray.

She hid her knifed hand in the folds of her cloak and shut the door behind her.

The jarl flung away his bearskin, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. “Lie down. I’m going to look into your face while I get my sons upon you.”

Alodie trudged forward. He waited for her by the bed, undressing. Beneath his tunic, his torso was nothing but pale skin and the flabby flesh of a man well into his sixth decade. Not the body of a warrior. Except for the puckered scarring.

But wasn’t that what he’d been? Training could overcome any number of weaknesses and defects. And if he’d trained once, even many, many years ago, he held the advantage over her.

What she had was the element of surprise—the one tool at her discretion. If she could utilize it.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not going to die without a son. Your father took mine from me. My next wife died with the child she wasn’t able to bring into the world and the last was barren. I would have a son now if your father hadn’t killed mine. What he took from me, he must now repay.”

“It only makes things sweeter for you that you can use me to manipulate Thorvald, doesn’t it?”

His lips pulled into a slight smile of fiendish satisfaction. In the scant time she’d known him, it was the first time his grim face showed anything other than dour severity. “It does.”

“Your power over him is weakening.” She stopped at the foot of the bed, daring to venture no further. A good kick of swift courage would have gone a long way. Where were the casks of mead now she needed them?

“Impossible.”

“Don’t be so certain. It could be broken already.”

“Oh, but I am. And I can be. Because no matter how much he hates me, he can’t defy me.”

Tensing like a snake ready to strike, she narrowed her eyes at him. In many ways, he was like the old king, the princess’s father. Too certain that his view of the world was the only view of the world. “Men break vows.”

“True enough. But he can’t. The consequences would be too dire. He would sooner die.”

She thrust out her chin. If anyone was going to torture Thorvald, it would be her. “I think he would be able to live with himself perfectly easily.”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

Alodie blinked. What? “Pleased?”

“You’re not as close as you think, you and he.”

“Close?” Heat assaulted her cheeks. “We’re not…” The denial died almost as quickly as it appeared on her tongue. It was no use.

“I thought sending him to punish you might break the bond, but that was not the case. He hurt you and you still think you mean something to him, stupid woman.” He waved. “It matters not. Come here and we’ll do what needs to be done.”

“If you think you can get at him by using me…”

“You think you play any part in the consequences of which I spoke…you do not.”

There was something she didn’t know. Something Thorvald had kept well hidden. But the jarl knew it—both whatever it was Thorvald concealed and that he’d not confided in her.

Alodie’s insides wavered like a bowl of offal freshly sliced from the stomach of a sheep. If she wasn’t part of the jarl’s plan to keep Thorvald under his control, what was? “I have no intention of being your wife, Thorvald or no Thorvald.”

“You can come as I bid, rest here with your legs open for me, or I can bring in men to hold you down.” He drew in a long breath, nostrils going wide. “Either way, the begetting of my sons begins tonight.”

Alodie pretended to deliberate. The matter was already decided—what would happen between them, tonight or any night, would bear no resemblance whatsoever to the jarl’s vision.

Feigning obedience, she came around the end of the bed. The jarl began to undo the ties holding his trousers.

Her chance.

Alodie’s grip on the handle of her blade tightened. Her heart beat heat and drunken daring through her veins. Here at last was the part of her she’d spent her whole life trying to deny. The part that compelled her to lash out, to question, and to disobey. If it hadn’t been for the real princess to emulate and honor, she might have found herself in a great deal of trouble.

She’d always blamed her father for this part of her—wanted to peel it away from her soul the way a knife peels the skin of an apple.

Now it was hers to use, wield, and above all, control.

With a quick slash, she arced her arm through the air.

A bright streak welled across the jarl’s chest. He looked down, his face pale with shock. The blood began to streak down in heavy drops at the same moment rain began to pelt against the roof.

It wasn’t enough. All she’d succeeded in doing was cut the skin. Stupid. Jabbing it between his ribs and twisting—too gruesome. And invariably fatal.

The nose, though…

Breathing heavily, she moved to strike a second time. He caught her wrists and squeezed, baring his yellow teeth. His breath was like an old cat after it’d been sick on rotten fish.

“If you think this will stop me, princess…” A fraction more pressure and he’d have shattered bone. With a cry, she released the knife. It fell to the floor.

He leaped upon her and pinned her to the bed.

Alodie kicked his legs from hers so he couldn’t force her knees apart. “You have…” She struggled. He was crushing her. The onslaught of his stench…she fought against gagging. The shallow grave of a cow seven days gone was more appealing. “The wrong…woman. I am not the princess.”

He stilled. The only sound came from the rain. “What do you mean?”

“I only pretended…” Her breath was coming in great heaves. “I only pretended to be the princess so in case we lost, and your demons took her, they would have taken the wrong person. The real princess remains safe.”

The jarl pulled away, sliding off the bed to stand over her.

Alodie pushed up on her elbows, brushed the hair from her face, and let her face open into a smile. She all but glittered with triumph. “The princess never left home. You have me and I’m nothing more than a servant. Whatever revenge you thought you might be taking on that weak and pathetic king you call your greatest enemy, you have failed.”