Chapter Forty-Five
Alodie was heaping food upon a plate when her ears caught the ruckus happening in the main part of the great hall. She paused mid-scoop to glance over her shoulder and bent a little to peer around a wooden post. The last time the hall had fallen into such an uproar, Thorvald was the cause.
The bodies were too thick to see to the commotion and the chatter so loud she couldn’t have picked out his voice had she wanted to.
She ignored the slight sinking feeling in the center of her chest. She didn’t expect him to come. She didn’t even want him to come. Plans with Birna were in place, and that was good enough. What she required was a new life far from the jarl.
Far from him.
The disturbance among the men worked in her favor. With the rest of the women attending what happened in the hall, she had time to liberally douse Hrolf’s food with the herb Birna had given her. Alodie took one last look around. The group of women formed a wall with their backs to her.
Only she was separate.
The same way she had been since she’d been brought here. First, she’d been the foreign captive brought to marry the jarl. Now they were supposed to accept her as the jarl’s daughter. Soon to be Hrolf’s wife.
Hmph. Hrolf’s wife, indeed. The young one wasn’t even a man by the measure of his own people. What a ridiculous ploy. The jarl was plainly manipulating the poor young pup and Hrolf was too hungry for the approval of his elders to see it. And the reason the jarl was giving her to him? Simple. Because Thorvald wanted her.
True, Hrolf looked at her in an altogether unsubtle manner. Lust. Again, though, because Thorvald wanted her. If they married—and crows would lose their black before she ever went willingly to the arrangement—she and Hrolf would be absurd together.
Fully aware her agreement wasn’t required, she doused herbs on the thick mix of meat and vegetables she’d heaped on the plate, then poked at the lump to stir it around. Was it enough? She bit her lip. Birna had made no mention of how much was to be used, or if too much would cause unintended effects. If an extra dose made him spend a night in agony shitting his guts out, she would overcome her guilt in short order. Alodie didn’t want to kill him, though.
However…because she didn’t want him merely drowsy either, she dumped the rest of the dried leaves into the food for good measure. Then she crossed herself and said a quick prayer that she wasn’t sending him to his death.
“You.”
She jumped. “You” was what she answered to among the women and she glanced up to find one of them, Edda, hovering over her shoulder. Edda was aged a good ten or fifteen summers more than Alodie, small of stature, with light lines about her mouth, and hair beginning to show gray at the temples.
Alodie’s heart picked up a guilty beat and she stabbed at the food. “What?”
“That was your man in there just now. Stirring up trouble again. No better than an angry bee, he is.” Some of the other women giggled.
“My man?” Her mouth went arid. So it had been Thorvald. What did the man think he was doing now? Alodie scowled. “I have no man, I’ll thank you to remember.”
“Ohh.” Edda’s brows rose. “Look who’s so high.” She leaned in closer. “They say you’re no princess, but you’ll find that jarl’s daughter or not, you’ll need a man for protection.”
Alodie had mentally assigned Edda to the role of Cyneburga. Maybe there was one of their kind in every group. This woman was not so fine as Cyneburga, nor so graceful. In fact, she could be outright crass. But they were the same kind of person. Always nettling. Relentlessly sniffing out those they believed weaklings and cowing them constantly.
“I am not a princess, it’s true.” Having almost been the jarl’s wife, they’d kept their distance. Now that they saw her as his offspring, their opinion and treatment of her had shifted. What she couldn’t tell was whether any of them actually believed she was the jarl’s daughter or not. Best to make her position on the subject clear. “But neither am I the jarl’s daughter. That’s pure fabrication.”
“Are you calling him a liar?”
That manipulative, power-hungry, impotent worm who ruthlessly used people for his own gain? Calling him out as a liar hardly seemed worth the trouble.
Alodie hedged. “The jarl will have the best of Thorvald or die trying.”
“Ah, so Thorvald is your man, then?”
“I need no man.”
“Of course you do, you stupid hen.”
“Birna has none.” Alodie was missing Birna more and more. The calm quiet of the little cottage, the gentle motherly company, and the sensible conversation.
When Edda was absent, the others didn’t treat Alodie so badly. When she was around, however…
The woman laughed. “Couldn’t keep one, you mean. Had one, once. He stayed with her only five, maybe six, winters. Then he left her. What’s she worth if no man will stay by her? She’s just another stupid old hen like you.” The woman ran her light-blue gaze back over Alodie, reassessing her. “I can see why you’ve taken to her.”
“I don’t care about her past and her worth has nothing whatsoever to do with how men might or might not feel about her.”
“You’d better start caring about how men feel about you. You will need protection. Otherwise, they’ll just pass you around among them as they please.” Edda’s expression turned pointedly curious. “Or perhaps that’s what you’re after?”
Alodie’s cheeks could have blistered with heat. The heavy plate in her hands would have done nicely as something to shove in the other woman’s face, but then there would be no more of Birna’s herb. “You’re needling me on purpose.”
The woman looked past her suddenly and her expression changed. She crossed her arms. “What do you think you’re doing coming back here?”
Alodie whirled. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed. A flame sparked to life inside of her. The same that always flared when she saw him, no matter how damned much she wanted to claw his bejeweled eyes right out of that beautiful head. She ignored it. “What, indeed?”
Thorvald stood tall, radiating simmering anger with every visible rise and fall of his chest. “Edda, whatever it is you’re saying, I’ll thank you to not say it.”
“You can’t be back here.” With a scowl, Edda doubled down. “Unless they’ve hacked off your prick and you’re one of us now.”
He remained steady. “What I have or haven’t got between my legs is no concern of yours.”
“Whatever you think you were, Thorvald Longsword, you’re none of it now.”
“There are hungry men you ought to see about feeding.” He waved the others away. The women cleared out. “You too, Edda.” She took an extra minute, but with a grunt, finally took the food she’d prepared and left with the rest of them.
Alodie watched them go. The sooner she took Hrolf his food, the better.
Thorvald gave the food a hungry look. “That looks good.”
Alodie clutched the plate. “’Tisn’t for you.”
“Does that mean you’re happy, then?” He challenged her with his gaze. “That you want this?”
“Now you’re just trying to rile me.”
He paced to the other side of the space, running his hand over his hair. “I’ve done everything wrong.”
“You have, indeed. Is that why you’re here?”
He turned. The impassioned appeal in his eyes could have made mighty oaks bend like flowers too long without water. “I needed to see you. I needed to know if it was true.”
She arched her brows at him. “That I’m being forced to marry young Hrolf? It is.”
“I can’t fight him.” He shook his head. “Mighty Thor, help me, but I can’t.”
What she was trying not to feel for him was creeping back. Nonetheless, she kept her voice hard. No good would come if he thought she was softening to him. “Who said anything about fighting him?”
“I want to fight the jarl. I need to end this. To get to him, I must go through Hrolf.”
“And you can’t.”
He looked at her and shook his head. “The boy is…”
“Too much like you were?”
“In some ways, no. Not at all. In many ways, yes.”
“And those ways he’s like you are too important to overlook.” She sighed. “Well, that settles it, then.”
“That settles what?”
“How this is going to play out.”
“How is this going to play out?”
“You’ll go. I’ll go. We’ll never see each other again.”
He stalked up to her and stared down. “I don’t accept that, Alodie.”
Great, lumbering warrior though he was, she wasn’t frightened by him. He was nothing but solid muscle and brutal strength, but he’d never hurt her. Unless I ask him to.
Not wanting to remember what they’d done, she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need you.”
When he spoke, his voice was more vulnerable than she could have believed possible. “But I need you.”
“The woman who lied to you?”
“The woman who showed more true bravery than all the men in this village combined.”
She pressed her lips together. “Why couldn’t you have come to this conclusion earlier?”
“I wish I had.”
“And why couldn’t you have been the one to help me when the jarl pushed me into the mud?”
“I’ll never forgive myself that I wasn’t.”
Oh, this infuriating man. How could he be sincere now? “What are you going to do, then?”
“Figure out a way.”
“You have little time. Hrolf is taking me as his avowed wife tonight.” And she’d be gone by morning.
“I’m doing this. For me. For you. For us. And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving myself to you, I will do so.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m going to have to snare you like a pest and release you a day’s sail down the coast so you don’t bother me again.”
That gave him pause. Slowly, he nodded. “You’re right. I can’t dog you forever.” He swallowed. “Very well. If I can’t prove myself worthy by the time the next day’s sun sets, I’ll leave you alone. Forever.”
“Not good enough. You’ll sail me home and we’ll forget—” It was her turn to swallow. A pheasant-sized rock could bash her on the head and it wouldn’t dislodge the memory of the explosive night they’d shared. She raised her chin. “We’ll forget we ever met.”
They didn’t have a chance to continue. One of the women must have whispered in her husband’s ear because suddenly there were three of the jarl’s men running into the women’s area. Thorvald turned and vanished out the door.
Alodie stuck out a foot. The first tripped over her and tumbled down in a crashing mountain, spilling curses that would have made the Devil blush. The second crashed into him, but the third managed to leap around them and dart out the narrow doorway.
A shock of pain ran up her leg where the first of them had tangled himself with her. He turned a ruddy, heavily bearded face to her, bloodshot eyes ready to burn her to cinders where she stood. “What do you think you’re doing, woman?”
Refusing to answer, she gave a disdainful sniff and lifted the plate, which had survived the ordeal. Any of these warriors could say whatever they pleased. Maybe she wouldn’t always be so valuable to the jarl, but for now she was. It was an advantage she’d ruthlessly exploit. They wouldn’t dare attempt anything more dire than a few ugly threats.
Assuming a showy air of self-possession, she swanned out into the main area of the great hall.
Not so long ago, she’d been proud of her role. Proud of being a servant. Proud of her duties and her ability to work. No task had been too big or too small. She’d known her place in the world. Even if she hadn’t held any true control over her destiny—who did?
The jarl would see her stripped of everything. Forced to serve. Forced to obey. Forced to wed.
She filled Hrolf’s cup from the ale barrel, but hung back. He and the jarl were talking. The washing bowl was being passed around with a bit of linen so all those eating could clean their hands.
“Then I’ll lead the raid?”
The jarl cast him a sidelong glance. “You’re too young.”
The youth’s color went high. Hot impatience inflected his tone. “I’m your best warrior. It should be me.”
“You’re too important.”
Alodie tried not to snort at the jarl’s blatant manipulation. She glanced to Hrolf. Didn’t he see it?
The small muscles around Hrolf’s eye twitched as Alodie sat herself beside him, his color still high with indignation. He clearly wanted to continue arguing with the jarl, but clamped his mouth shut, his gaze falling upon her.
With careful deliberateness, she set the plate before him, keeping her eyes lowered in a show of modesty. When she chanced to look into his face, it was plain enough what he was imagining—all the things he thought he was going to do to her tonight when they were alone.
She was right to have put the herb in his meat. The understanding sent swift relief to her bones. At sea, he’d seemed an ordinary sweet young man, keen to please, and dedicated to his work—and incapable of hurting someone against their will. He was no doubt as much a demon in battle as any of them. One-on-one, however, it was difficult to believe that Hrolf was able to inflict pain on anyone.
With his self-importance bolstered by the jarl’s careful grooming, who knew what the altered Hrolf might be capable of? But he’d not touch her. Not tonight. Not ever.
He picked up a small knife. “Shall you have some?”
She folded her hands in her lap and kept her back stiff. “I’m not hungry.”
With a shrug, he began devouring the tainted food.