“Ouch, what is that? Are you cleaning the wound or trying to kill me?”
“Just a bit of something I picked up from an acquaintance in the market. You’re not the only one with healing powers. You’ll be good as new in the morning. Now, quit being a baby and spill your guts.”
Just as I suspected, she continued her inquisition. “All right, start from the top and do not dare attempt to spare me from the grizzly details. I am not a child, Allete. If you do, you get the whole bottle.” She shook the putrid green vial at me.
I looked at her in the mirror as she stood behind me. “I know you are not a child. You are growing into a remarkable, albeit foul-mouthed, woman.”
“You bet your arse I am.” She grinned. “Now, get on with it.”
And so I did. I relived every detail for her and somehow managed to keep the tears at bay. After all, I was truly beginning to wonder how long I would be alive once I returned with Cathal to his kingdom—probably just long to bear him an heir. Once he had a male child, I would no longer have any value to him, unless he decided to keep me to meet his carnal needs. If that was what was to happen, then I would take matters into my own hands, literally. I would not live as a man’s slave. Death was a much better alternative, and one I would gladly embrace when the time came.
“The worse part of it wasn’t what Cathal did,” I said. “The worst part was Torben seeing it.” My stomach clenched as I remembered the look in his eyes and the embarrassment I felt at having him witness something so vile.
“He didn’t do anything?” Dayna asked.
“He wanted to, but Cathal was just waiting for a reason to have his guards stab Torben and Brant. I didn’t want that.”
“You have feelings for him.”
I nodded. How could I deny it? She was right. There were sparks between us, and I liked him so much more than I should. “I can’t be with him. Not only am I getting married, but he’s a guard. No matter how I feel about him, even without Cathal in the picture, I could never marry Torben.”
“It’s so wrong,” Dayna grumbled. “You shouldn’t have to be with someone you don’t love just because you’re the firstborn daughter to a king.”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to let Father or Mother down.”
“If they knew what Cathal was doing to you, they would never allow you to marry him.”
“And our kingdom would fall to ruin,” I reminded her. “We need what Cathal can offer.”
“We need to just kill him and take his kingdom,” Dayna growled.
“Bite your tongue, Dayna Auvray. That’s treason.”
“I don’t care. That man doesn’t deserve to be king of a mole hill. He needs to get a taste of his own medicine, preferably the kind that would stop his wicked heart in his chest.”
I wanted to disagree with her but I couldn’t, so I just kept my mouth shut. Instead, I let my thoughts drift to Torben, a man who was slowly stealing my heart. How was I going to marry Cathal when I wanted so desperately to explore what my guard and I had between us? It was a hopeless situation. I wanted to fall asleep, wake up, and realize it had all been a nightmare, or at least the parts that had Cathal in them.
“Never have I wanted to torture a human being without any mercy as I do now. Perhaps I have never known just exactly what I am capable of. But someone I hold dear to my heart is in danger. She drives me crazy. Yet thinking about a life without her leaves an emptiness inside me that I cannot bear. I would do anything to protect her. If that means torture or murder … so be it.”
* * *
~Torben
I was envisioning the most painful ways I could remove Cathal’s hands from his body when I heard the screams. Brant and I immediately moved to cover Allete. It did not go unnoticed that Cathal simply turned in the direction of the noise without offering any sort of shelter to the woman he was pledged to marry.
“Northmen!” I heard someone shout. My shoulders tensed as I looked at Brant from the corner of my eye.
At first, I feared someone had discovered one of my men masquerading as a Briton soldier. But I dismissed the idea quickly. Much more likely, some of Magnus’ men had been discovered. I had no reason to think that witch’s charm was no longer working, and Magnus’ men were sloppy, a reflection of their leader. I had not sent anyone back to check in with our Jarl, because I did not want to them risk being seen by the wrong person. It would look too suspicious if a palace guard or king’s soldier were seen continually sneaking off into the woods. But I had seen a few of our comrades, if that was what we should call them, dressed in peasant or merchant clothes, milling about the grounds.
“Do you not think you should go and see what the commotion is about?” Cathal asked me. He was straightening his cuffs, and his lips were tight, making his simple question sound like a command.
I did not particularly like taking commands, especially from men like Cathal who preyed on the weak and vulnerable. And there was no way I was going to leave Allete alone with Cathal and his men.
“The princess is our charge,” I said, looking him straight in the eye, something kings did not appreciate from those of lower rank. “We are not to leave her for any reason.”
The pompous ass waved my words off. “That was before she had my men and me to look after her. You are no longer needed here.”
Brant bumped me. It was subtle, as though he had tripped a little as he turned. That small bump spoke volumes. In essence, he was telling me shut the hell up. But he, of anyone, should have known that I did not take orders from men like Cathal. I was the commander of the warriors of the Hakon clan. I had proven myself in battle over and over. Therefore, during any battle, I was the final word. But now I knew something bigger than myself and my men was at stake. I had Allete to consider.
I turned to Allete and attempted to soften my voice. “Princess, would you like us to investigate the disturbance?”
“I—”
“You do not need to ask her.” Cathal cut her off.
His face was as red as a ripe tomato, and I thought at any moment steam would be coming out of his ears.
“I am her husband, and I will answer for her.”
I was about to correct him but Allete beat me to it.
“Excuse me,” she snapped at Cathal. She had turned her body so that she was facing him directly. Her back was as straight as a Viking short sword, and her eyes were that of a hawk eyeing its prey. She was beautiful.
“You speak out of turn, my lord. I am no man’s wife. Not yet. I am the princess of England, and I have the power to give orders to my own guardsmen.”