AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rose sat down, too, no longer caring about her skirts, suddenly just too weary to be standing.
“They won’t find us now, will they?”
“We need to get to one of those islands,” he replied. “Find somewhere to hide. When the sun rises they’ll see us out here, and they’ll get to us. Miles won’t let me have you if he can help it.”
She thought about that. “So this is a game between the two of you? Like tug-of-war? And I am the prize.”
“Maybe. But be sure of one thing, lady. I do not mean to give you up.” He was staring at her earnestly in the starlight, but Rose refused to believe in him.
She made her voice chilly—why not, it matched her poor frozen toes. “You and Miles know each other well, don’t you?”
He straightened up, wiping his dirty hands across his tunic. “We have fought together from time to time, but his way of fighting was never mine. He has no honor.”
Honor. Aye, it was something Gunnar Olafson appeared to set great store by. But as Rose had learned to her cost, appearances could be deceptive. He was a liar and a brute, and yet still he spoke of honor. Well, why not put his honor to the test?
“Will you take me to Crevitch, to Lord Radulf?”
He seemed to be observing her in the darkness. Was he waiting for an explanation?
Rose turned her face away, staring at nothing, her voice struggling to be as emotionless as she wanted it. “I know Lord Radulf sees me as a weak counter in his game, something to be used and then discarded when it has lost its importance. But I must think of Somerford now, and he is the only one who can right the wrong. He has the men to fight Fitzmorton; I do not.”
“Radulf will listen to you, lady.”
Surprised, Rose turned again to face him. “You sound as if you know him.” Her face was open, puzzled. She waited.
Gunnar was tempted to tell her the truth. Would she believe it? Earlier, in her chamber, she had preferred to believe him a murdering monster, and he had played along with her, making their bargain of the flesh. Now he wanted her to look through the pretense and see him. Even though it was probably already too late.
He took a chance.
“My father, Olaf, is Radulf’s armorer, my mother, Gudren, is midwife to Lady Lily.” He spoke softly, in the matter-of-fact way that robbed the words of their power to surprise. “They are loyal to him and have been for many years. I have made my own way in the world, but Radulf is a good man, strong and true. When he asked me to come to Somerford in answer to your request for mercenaries, to play at being Fitzmorton’s man, I agreed. I was in Wales when his message came and I was glad to leave. I was tired of petty squabbles between barons who wanted more than they deserved, and this seemed like a chance to do something important, something that needed doing
. Radulf was very…concerned.”
She was no fool. She understood what part of the tale he was leaving out. “You mean he didn’t trust me. Aye, well, ’tis to be expected. A woman, alone. The Normans think women are useful for breeding and no more.” She flashed him a glittering look, and Gunnar knew she was remembering what he had said in the stable at Somerford.
The words had been for Arno’s benefit, but he chose to let it pass. Instead he laughed and said, “If Radulf was ever a typical Norman, then Lily has put him right! He sent me because he dared not upset her so near her time by coming down on you himself and demanding an explanation! Aye, it was underhand perhaps, but—”
“If all this is true, what did he offer you in return?” Her quiet voice stopped him dead.
How did she know? Gunnar wondered. Again she had cut through his clever words and found the truth. Was she a witch? She looked mysterious and secretive in the night shadows, her face a pale oval, her eyes large dark hollows, her hair a black cloud brushed by starlight. And yet if he touched her skin, Gunnar knew she would be soft and warm, if he kissed her mouth she would be hot and needy.
She already suspected the truth, and it was a time to be honest, so he told it to her.
“He offered me Somerford Manor.”
She was silent a moment. “Ah,” she said.
Nothing more. No screams of hurt and anger, no agonized weeping, no recriminations. Gunnar would have known how to deal with all of those. But that soft “ah” as if she had known all along that he was only after her land. He could say more, try and make her understand…There was no time.
First he must save her life. Then he could think about winning back her trust.
Gunnar stood up. Grimly, he looked about him. “I think I see where I went wrong,” he said confidently. “Come. It will be dawn soon, and we have far to go.”
He reached down to help her to her feet.
Rose gave him her hand, but removed it as soon as she was up. He sensed her cool withdrawal and could not blame her for it. Gunnar sighed, and concentrated on the here and now. He moved forward again, finding solid ground, cautiously pressing on into the Mere. Ahead of them lay one of the many islands, this one a low, flat-topped mound silhouetted against the stars. If they could reach it before the sun rose, they might be safe for a little while.
Gunnar wondered if Ivo had escaped by now, following after Alfred and the miller’s family, to Crevitch. Had he found the messenger, Steven? Sweyn, Reynard, and Ethelred could take care of themselves. They would know how to read the situation and what action to take when and if it became necessary. Ivo had been the one he had been most worried about, Ivo whom Miles hated and would have killed for the flimsiest of reasons. ’Twas a shame Ivo had not dealt with his elder brother years ago, but to Ivo blood-family was sacred. In essence, Gunnar supposed, that was the difference between Ivo and Miles.
