AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘If I did, then there wasn’t much to destroy.’ She held out her hands with tears streaming down her face. ‘Please tell me there was more between us than just desire.’
Brand’s stomach knotted. Even now Edith sought to use him. It reminded him so much of when he had faced Teresa in Constantinople with the information that she had plotted against the emperor. He had believed her and men had died. He refused to make that mistake again. But he could not bear the thought of one hair on her head being harmed.
‘Get out of my sight. Run and don’t come back if you must. Or face up to the punishment you deserve. But don’t ever expect me to understand what you did. Or try to dress it up as feelings for me. You used me! You used what we had and I can never forgive you for that.’
Chapter Fourteen
Edith dropped her hand to her side and allowed the tears to flow unhindered. Much of what Brand shouted was true and she had no defence. Not one he’d accept. She knew she’d destroyed any chance she had of happiness with him but she had hoped he could begin to understand.
All about her she was aware of the stillness of the glade and the various men pretending to go about their jobs rather than listening to her argument with Brand. She wanted to curl up in a ball and die. She had confessed her feelings for him, wept in public when she never wept and he’d thrown it back in her face. She was only thankful that there appeared to be far fewer men in the group—but by nightfall everyone would know.
No doubt there would be jokes and back slaps. All at her expense. Deep anger and resentment filled her. She didn’t need to hear it. She would take his advice and go.
With Brand’s words ringing in her ears about leaving, Edith marched out of the camp, expecting someone to stop her. No one did. With each step she took, a steady calm descended. It was better that she had discovered about Brand’s lack of feeling now rather than building up any expectation about a long life with him.
She put her hands on her knees and drew a deep breath. She was sick of putting her duty before herself. No one thanked her for it. She wanted to have her dreams, rather than living for someone else. But was this the right way to go about it?
Running away would mean others would suffer for something she had done. She had to face the consequences of her actions. Maybe Halfdan would listen and spare lives when Brand would not. She had to do something to fight.
Straightening her shoulders, she started back towards the camp.
The sound of a snapping twig made Edith freeze and press back against a tree. From the opposite side of the camp, men advanced stealthily towards the camp, but the men in the camp seemed unawares.
Horror flooded through Edith. Brand and all his men were in danger. She attempted to scream, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard and tried again.
‘Brand!’ she shouted. ‘We are under attack! To arms! To arms!’
Brand and his men instantly had their swords out, but the others rushed forwards, shouting their battle cry in Norse. She saw the first Norseman fall and knew that this was no ordinary attack. It had been planned.
When she caught a glimpse of a great hulking shadow she knew. Hrearek had not made his way to Ireland, but had gathered men here, intent on revenge. Edith remembered what Brand had said the first time they played tafl—Hrearek was a formidable opponent. Brand could not know if anyone was loyal or not.
She had unwittingly provided Hrearek with the opportunity. He must have guessed that she’d react that way. Had Halfdan’s messenger even been from him?
She grabbed a knife from the fallen Norseman. She ran towards where Athelstan stood, with his bound hands, and started to saw away.
‘What are you doing, my lady? Hide! Save yourself!’
‘Freeing you to fight.’
‘Why? We should run. The Norseman brought the trouble on his own head.’
‘It is a trap. Brand is in danger. I know the outlaws’ leader.’
‘Why should I lift a finger to help him? He wanted to kill us both.’
‘Because I ask it, Athelstan.’ Edith made one final swipe with the knife and tried to think of a reason which would appeal to Athelstan’s better nature. ‘He is a good man, the best. If he dies, we both die.’
‘I die anyway. Keep your head down, my lady, and hope for the best. We may yet escape.’
* * *
Edith’s shout had given Brand that instant of warning. Silently he cursed his folly. It had been too easy for the attackers.
