To Love Again - Bertrice Small [189]
“You have done well, niece,” Ragnar Strongspear said, and then led his men quietly through the gates into the courtyard. “Where is the mistress of the hall? And how long before Wulf Ironfist’s return?”
“Cailin sleeps in the solar with her children,” Aelfa replied. “As for her husband, he should return in a few days’ time, I expect.”
“Secure this place,” Ragnar said to his second-in-command, Harald, and then he turned back to Aelfa. “Fetch the lady Cailin to me, girl, and her children, too. I will want food also.”
“Yes, Uncle,” Aelfa said. She hurried off back into the hall to do his bidding, only realizing too late that Cailin always drew the ladder to the solar up each night. There was no other way into the room but through the trapdoor. As Ragnar strode into the hall, she ran back to him and explained the dilemma.
“No matter,” he said. “She must come down eventually, and I will be waiting for her. The lady Cailin is a most toothsome wench.”
“You desire her?” Aelfa was surprised. She thought Cailin far too prim and proper for her lusty uncle. She was also too old, being past twenty.
“Do not be fooled by her dignity and manners, girl,” he told her. “Beneath it all she is a woman, and a fiery woman, I will wager.”
The sleepy and surprised inhabitants of Cadda-wic were roused and brought before Ragnar Strongspear. Outside, the men-at-arms were rounded up, subdued, and marched into the hall, including the half-conscious Bran-hard.
“This place is now mine by right of conquest,” Ragnar said in a sonorous voice. “No harm will come to you if you obey my wishes. If you try to rebel, you will be killed. Now start your day as you normally would, and someone bring me some food. I am fair starved!”
For a moment they looked at him, still but half awake, and totally unaware of what they should do. How had this happened? How had Ragnar Strongspear gained entry to Cadda-wic? It was a common thought.
“You will obey Ragnar Strongspear for now,” Cailin said as she came into their midst. “I want none of you harmed.” She was very beautiful in a dark green tunic dress decorated with gold threads. Cailin turned to Ragnar and demanded in proud tones, “How came you here?”
His eyes devoured her. By Woden, she was a beauty, and he would have her this night beneath him! “By means of a Trojan horse,” he answered her. “Do you know the story? Antonia told it me.”
Cailin nodded. “I know the tale well,” she said, and then a light of understanding dawned in her eyes. Her gaze swept the room and found what it was seeking. “Aelfa,” she said. “Aelfa was your Trojan horse, was she not, Ragnar Strongspear? Who is she?”
“My brother Gunnar’s eldest daughter. She is fifteen, and very wily,” he said, chuckling.
“The girl, Aelfa, has betrayed us,” Cailin told the gathering of her people. “She is Ragnar Strongspear’s niece.”
A terrible groan arose from Bran-hard. “Bitch!” he cried, and then flung himself before Cailin. “Lady, you must forgive me! I desired her, and she knew it. She came to me last night as I kept watch and offered herself to me. Then she fed me drugged wine to render me unconscious. It is my fault that the hall is taken! Forgive me!”
“You are a fool, Bran-hard, but get up and go about your duties. What is done is done, although you are not likely to escape some punishment from my husband when he returns,” Cailin told him.
Bran-hard scrambled to his feet. His complexion had a decidedly yellow-green tinge to it. He looked as if he would be sick at any moment. “Thank you, lady,” he managed to gasp.
Cailin realized now that the reason Aelfa had fixed her attentions on poor Bran-hard and the hapless Albert was that they were the two men assigned to the gatehouse. Each took his turn in rotation, keeping the watch through the night. Aelfa did not care for either of them, and poor Albert could have just as easily been her victim had he been on duty last night. It was only bad luck for Bran-hard that it had been his turn.
“How did Aelfa communicate with you?” Cailin asked Ragnar as they seated themselves at the high