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Sayrid clung on to her temper. It was wrong of the nurse to allow Inga to go down to the harbour, but it was also the best lead they had. ‘Did Inga say anything more about the ghost at the time?’
‘She said that the ghost was dressed in white with long blonde hair.’ The nurse glanced at Inga. ‘To my mind it sounded like Inga’s mother come to warn us.’
‘I lost my mother when I was about your age. Seeing her ghost would have been wonderful but frightening all at the same time. Was it like that for you?’
‘Your mother…died?’
‘From a fever,’ Sayrid confirmed.
Inga held out the cloth. ‘Would you like to sew with us? My mother used to sew with me.’
Sayrid gulped hard. Surely sewing on fine cloth was no more difficult than sewing on coarse sail.
‘I could sew with you for a while and maybe you will remember more. I do so love a good ghost story.’
The nurse and Inga exchanged glances. Inga whispered something and the nurse’s mouth twitched. She quickly shook her head.
‘Do you want to?’ the nurse asked. ‘The pattern is quite complex.’
Sayrid set her jaw. ‘I can sew.’
Inga clapped her hands and whispered something else. The nurse’s frown increased. ‘If you are certain you want to.’
Sayrid settled herself next to the pair. How hard could putting a few stitches in a cloth be? ‘I wish to get to know my new daughter better. For that I will sew.’
Inga gave her a shy smile, but there was a twinkling in her eye which Sayrid knew meant mischief. ‘I would like that.’
Sayrid chose to focus on the smile. She would find a way to make friends with the girl. She would not repeat her stepmother’s mistakes.
* * *
Hrolf stepped back from the final ship. The only one which showed any signs of tampering was his main ship. Either his flagship had been deliberately targeted or the saboteurs had been interrupted. Both options left him distinctly uncomfortable. The sooner he and his family were in his new hall, which could be properly defended, the better. Other than the brooch Sayrid had found, there had been no clues.
‘You have a theory?’ he asked Bragi.
Bragi shrugged. ‘An unwelcome mystery, but this was no wedding-night mischief.’
‘A warning perhaps. Or perhaps they were disturbed by revellers if Sayrid’s theory is correct. It is hard to know.’ Hrolf fingered the brooch. His new wife had a quick brain, something he’d rarely encountered in a woman. Following his uncle’s creed, most of the women he’d intimately known were for bedding only. Even Inga’s mother had bored him once she opened her mouth with all her talk of sewing and weaving.
The marriage was for a specific purpose—to provide land and ensure Inga was brought up in the right way. If he forgot that, he was doomed just as his father had been.
His father had quarrelled with his uncle over a piece of land one jul feast and the family had left abruptly. When they arrived home, his mother discovered she’d left her precious mirror behind. His father refused to return for it and forbade her to go. But she went anyway, declaring that her brother was right about him. When she didn’t return, his father refused to search for her. When her frozen body was discovered, she had the mirror with her and grief and guilt had unhinged his father’s mind.
He’d already seen the tricks Sayrid was willing to play to get her own way.
‘What do you make of this?’ he asked, holding out the brooch. ‘Man or woman’s?’
Bragi examined the brooch with a frown. ‘The working is very delicate, more like a woman would wear. But it would be good for trading purposes. I couldn’t tell the identity of its last owner.’
‘And you are certain it was a warrior who moved the boards?’
Bragi gave a laugh. ‘The only woman capable of such a feat would be your lady wife.’
‘A woman could have been a lookout.’ Hrolf dislodged a bit of dirt from the back of the brooch and the meaning of the runes suddenly became clear. His blood ran cold. His old enemy Lavrans had used the simple code before and it would appear he had done so again. Lavrans Sea King gave this to…but the final rune was badly scratched and unreadable.
Hrolf pursed his lips. Lavrans might have been his rival and fellow sea king, but there the comparison stopped. Hrolf had never betrayed a comrade or looted villages that were supposedly loyal or raped women for the sheer pleasure of hearing them scream. Hrolf prided himself on never having to force a woman. The bad blood between them had started when Inga’s mother had preferred Hrolf to Lavrans and made no secret of her preference. Lavrans had tried to rape her, but Hrolf had intervened and taken the woman under his protection. But the affair had rapidly cooled and Hrolf had found excuses to stay away.
