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“Only when you are well away from Byzantium.”
A heartening thought occurred to her. “You are coming to Stoneheim with me?”
He shook his head. “I will be jumping to shore any moment now, before the holding ropes are released.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I must ensure your safety. Only then can I take care of the villains in this case. The emperor needs to be informed of snakes in his midst. And Ianthe has to be protected afore I can leave.”
“I am not your responsibility.”
“I beg to differ.”
“I do not want to be your responsibility then.”
He shrugged.
“Where is Ivar, the traitor? He obeys me, not you.”
“Not this time.”
“But I am not done with my plant studies. And the imperial gardener is supposed to give me saplings from various trees to try in the Norselands. And unique rosebushes. And trellises for training ivy.”
At his stubborn demeanor, she went on, “And we have to wait for the other guardsmen. And Isobel ... I promised Isobel to help her get home.”
“They will come with me later. And I will bring the bloody damn bushes.”
“You will come to Stoneheim?”
“Of course I will. Eventually.”
She wanted to ask if he was coming for her or to take Runa, but she was too cowardly. It was a question she had put off for too long, and now her time had run out.
“I will ne’er forgive you for this.”
“Just add it to my other sins, then.”
“Have these last few days meant naught to you?”
“They have meant everything, Drifa. You must know that.”
“I know nothing,” she wailed.
There were shouts up above, and Sidroc told her, “I must go now.”
“Not yet, not yet,” she begged.
“Be safe, princess, and ... and tell my daughter I am coming.”
“And if you don’t come, if something happens to you to prevent your return ...” Oh gods! What if he should die afore I can tell him how I truly feel? Not that I am certain how I feel. Oh gods! “You face danger all the time, what if you should die, what then should I tell Runa?”
Pausing to clear his throat, he choked out, “Tell her I cared.”
He walked away then, leaving her stunned. Words for his daughter, but none for me?
But then his face popped back into the space. “One more thing, heartling,” he said in an oddly raw voice, “I am not as cold as you think I am.”
Dithering: the bane of a busy Viking’s life!...
