Lord of Raven's Peak - Catherine Coulter [87]
“What will you do?”
“I will speak to all my people. I will speak to them of loyalty and show them Cleve’s and Sarla’s innocence. They are already doubtful, believing that they confessed only to save you. That will leave you, Laren, in their minds. None other, just you. I will deal with it, for by all the gods, I have no choice.”
He left her standing there, her face pale, wondering what he would do, if he would be forced to kill her, a miserable slave who murdered his brother, despite Taby.
Sarla’s gown hung loose on Laren, for she had no belt to fasten it to her waist. The overtunic hung nearly to her knees and even the two brooches couldn’t make it drape properly.
When she walked into the outer chamber, only the women were there, not more than a dozen, all working: smoking herring just brought up from the fjord, cleaning cloth before dyeing it, working the large loom in the corner of the longhouse, kneading bread in the huge trough, so many things they were doing, all everyday, very normal household chores, and Laren realized she wanted to be part of it. She walked to the fire pit, to Sarla, and thanked her for the gown.
Sarla looked at her up and down and gave her a crooked grin. “You look passing strange, Laren. You are still so very thin. Come, eat some porridge.”
“After I eat I want to cook.”
“Aye, it is your punishment for your insolence.” She paused, then added quietly, “Though I doubt the punishment is still in effect since Erik is dead.”
“I want to cook.”
“Do you feel all right?”
“I wish you had not fed me the drug, for my dreams were vicious shadows all concealed in darkness.”
“I just wanted you to be safe. Now everyone is thinking beyond the obvious. Merrik is wise in his speech.”
“You weren’t wise, Sarla, neither you nor Cleve. You were foolish.”
“I could not stand there by my fire pit stirring some ridiculous pot of stew whilst everyone accused you and Cleve of murdering Erik.”
“You are very brave.”
Sarla just looked at her. “Nay, I am weaker than you can imagine. Cleve is the one who is strong.” She paused, opened her mouth to say more, then just shook her head.
“Have you seen Taby?”
“He is with the other children outside. I believe Kenna is teaching him wrestling.” She shook her head. “I feel very sorry for Kenna. And for Caylis. Both she and Megot have nothing now. There is not much justice in that, I think.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“I didn’t realize until just this morning that Merrik is now master of Malverne. Oh, I knew Merrik was the master now, but I didn’t realize what it would mean. Letta told me. She is very pleased about it. She made me feel as though my time here were nearly over. I wanted to slap her.”
“Don’t worry about that one. Merrik said since Malverne is now his, he will send the Thoragassons on their way. Perhaps he will do it today. Why don’t you tell Letta that she will be gone from Malverne much more quickly than you.”
Sarla looked up to see Letta walking toward them. “By that smug look on her face, I don’t think Merrik has yet told them to leave.”
Laren wanted to keep her temper and she knew she would lose it if she remained. She heard Sarla whisper “Coward!” but she kept walking away, more quickly now, until she heard Letta call out, “Stop, slave! I wish to speak to you.”
She sighed, then turned. “What is it you wish now, Letta?”
“My father is with Merrik right now. He is bargaining over your purchase price. He wants you, for he believes you have some worth as a skald, but to have a murderess in his longhouse distresses him. He fears you might became angered at him and kill him.”
Laren just stared at her.
Sarla said, “That is nonsense, Letta, and well you know it. You will hold your tongue. You are a guest here, nothing more, and you will cease strutting yourself about as mistress. You will cease tormenting