Page 51 of Her Rogue Viking
“Fiona told you of the enmity which exists between them?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Tonight, Brynhild tried to murder Fiona. It was only by sheer good fortune that I arrived home in time to prevent it. She survived, but next time, we may not be so lucky.”
“Sweet Lord,” breathed Taranc. “What happened?”
Ulfric briefly related the events of the evening, and assured the Celt that Fiona was safe, but that he feared for her safety as long as she and Brynhild shared a home. “I have to dosomething, and this seems like the right solution. I can trust you to take care of my sister.”
“You mean me to take her back with me, to Scotland?”
“I do.”
Taranc shook his head. “She is lovely, that much is true, but after what I have heard, I do not believe I even like your sister let alone wish to spend any time in her company. Have you punished her for this act?”
“No, though I consider banishment from her home will suffice as suitable chastisement.”
“I do not agree. She should be whipped for what she tried to do.”
“Despite all, I love my sister and I am not minded to do her injury however much that might be deserved. If you consider it absolutely necessary, I… I should not object to you administering a hard spanking, though you must not harm her.”
His companion narrowed his eyes. “From what you have told me it is clear that she would have harmed Fiona.”
“Even so, I will have your word on this, Celt.”
“Will you indeed? And there lies another problem. As you have pointed out, I too, am a Celt. Scotland is populated by Celts. Your sister would be desperately unhappy living among us there.”
“She will adjust, because you will help her to come to terms with what has happened.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
Ulfric shrugged. “I am not completely sure of anything, but I do know this. Brynhild cannot continue as she is. She is tearing herself apart. Despite her vicious words and deeds I know that at heart she is deeply unhappy, and very lonely. She blames the Celts for all that is amiss in her life, and has lost any sense of perspective she might have once possessed. I believe that she needs to be forced to think again, and I need to act before thisends in tragedy. One of them has to leave, and I will not let it be Fiona. So, will you do this? For Fiona, if not for me?”
“Your sister will despise you for betraying her. She will hateme.”
“At first, perhaps. But you must understand that I do not wish her harm and I will require you to offer her your protection, whatever happens.”
“She will not come quietly. I would have to subdue her.”
Ulfric heaved a relieved sigh. The man would do it. He was already planning how it might be accomplished; was that not tantamount to agreement? “You will do what is necessary to ensure her compliance, but I repeat, you will not injure her. I must have your word on this.”
“You would trust my word? The promise of a Celt? A slave?”
“I once offered you my word and told you that you may rely upon it. I did not let you down, and I know that you will not let me down. So, do we have an agreement?”
Taranc met his gaze, his emerald eyes steady, considering. He put out his hand. “Very well, Viking. For the sake of Fiona’s safety, and because I know that you are the right man for her even if neither of you yet recognises that fact for yourselves, I will do this thing.”
Ulfric took his hand and shook it. “Thank you. Now, let us return to our beds before either of us is missed. I shall tell you on the way back just how I plan to aid you in this endeavour.”
Three days later,Ulfric took his place at the long table to break his fast. Thedagmal,or day meal was always taken an hour or so after rising and was one of the main meals of the day. Fiona seemed to be in fine humour as she placed a cup ofmead beside him, along with a bowl of leftover stew from the previous evening. A night of mutually satisfying bed sport did wonders for her disposition, he reflected. He must continue to work on that. To his left, Njal was making short work of a dish of porridge with dried fruits, and Fiona went to help herself to a bowl also. Brynhild had declared her intention to leave at first light to gather winter garlic from the meadow so would no doubt take herdagmallater. The servants had already eaten, with the exception of Harald who had not been seen since the incident with the stocks. He had fled, no doubt fearing Ulfric’s wrath at his part in the affair.
The man was wise to make himself scarce. Harald had known well enough his master’s wishes on the matter and Ulfric would not let such insubordination go unpunished.
Brynhild had apologised to him for her part in what she seemed to consider a trivial misunderstanding. She claimed that she had intended for Harald to bring Fiona indoors after a few minutes, but he had failed to do so. She had been preoccupied with Njal who was unwell, so had not thought to check until at least a couple of hours had passed, and by then Ulfric had returned and had already released the girl.
Ulfric listened to his sister’s account but did not believe a word of it. Apart from anything, his son was in his customary rude good health. He saw no point, though, in pursuing the matter further with Brynhild. The time for reasoning with her was now long past and his path was set as far as she was concerned.
He had left the timing of the plan for Taranc to determine, but had privately hoped to have seen it executed before now. Maybe he needed to speak with the man again…
