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“Those who have not served you long,” Argus said. “The ones who have served you through endless battles do not question you. Their trust and respect remain strong.”
Fia sighed in silent relief that Argus did not surrender the names of the warriors since, feeling her husband’s rage, she feared what he might do to them.
“Separate them,” Varrick ordered. “Put them on sentinel duty with an older warrior. They need a lesson in loyalty.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Fia was pleased that her husband did not let his rage rule but rather handled the difficult situation with wisdom.
“One other thing, Argus,” Varrick said. “No one goes beyond the castle walls without my permission.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Fia made it back to the table before her husband opened the door.
“Are you going to pretend you did not hear that exchange? Varrick asked as he approached his wife.
She smiled. “I was going to try.”
He shook his head, bewildered. “How can you smile and joke when you just heard that there are those who want to see you burn at the stake?”
“I have faith that you would never let that happen. Besides, the fools do not realize that snow covers the ground in abundance. It would be difficult to find enough dry wood to burn me at the stake.”
He shook his head again, only this time he smiled. “You think quickly, wife.”
“Wisdom always prevails over anger and fear. If those warriors were not so fearful, they would have realized that hanging or drowning me would work better.”
Varrick cringed. The images of his wife burning at the stake was bad enough to imagine without adding hanging and drowning to it.
He took her in his arms. “Never would I allow that to happen to you.” He rested his hand on her stomach. “To either of you.”
“I know,” she said, resting her hand over his. “That is why I do not let it worry me.” She kissed him lightly, enjoying his potent, forest scent that wrapped around her like a loving embrace. “Now let’s see if I can find anything that might explain Brother Luke’s sudden death.”
“There are few items here that will be able tell us much of anything,” Varrick said, reluctantly releasing her and immediately missing the feel of the way she tucked so perfectly against him as if they fit as one.
“You’re right,” Fia said.
He forced his focus on the items on the table.
“He lived a sparse life but then that is the way of a monk.” She looked from one item to the next. A cross. A comb missing several teeth. A bowl. A tankard.
The body reveals the secret.
Of course, she should have thought of that first, but was grateful for the revelation.
She turned to her husband. “I need to see the body.”
“That is not wise, Fia,” Varrick warned. “It is already thought that you cursed him dead. People will assume you wish to do him more harm.”
“Then you must sneak me into where the body is being kept since there is no way to bury him with the ground frozen.”
When she shook her head, Varrick assumed she had thought better of it and was relieved, until she spoke.
“Nay. It would not be good for you to take me there. People will think I have bewitched you and that you do my bidding. I must go there alone.”
Varrick let loose with a hardy laugh.
“I am not joking,” Fia said, annoyed he thought it humorous.
